Adrenaline: A Lestappen Story

𝟐𝟑 - 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥

"I don't think it has to be that way," Charles pleaded. He stood up from his place near the fire, maintaining a close distance to Max. The confession hadn't been an easy one to make, and it was clear that it had taken everything in the man to accept that he had surrendered to his feelings. He believed he had let Charles win in that process.

"There's nothing saying we can't have feelings for each other or give up winning if we do. It shouldn't have to be one or the other," he spoke with a softness in his voice, yet beneath it, there was an ounce of desperation, as if trying to convince the man that this was okay before he had a chance to retract. "I promise never to ask you for anything in terms of racing. I can keep the track professional and separate it from our personal life, but what I can't do is have you out of my life," his voice was only loud enough to fill the space between their faces, which wasn't much. "I asked you if you would still like me if I won because I was scared that the only appeal to me was that I wasn't a threat. I thought you liked me back, and in that moment, I was just really scared that if I became good, you'd lose what it was that you saw in me." He knew that if there was ever a time to be vulnerable, it was now.

"Max," he was timid, using the back of his hand to rub his eyes, avoiding any tear stains this time around. "Your father taught you that there can't be feelings in racing, but I think the entire sport is overflowing with them. It wouldn't be what it is if everyone was perfectly calculated and kept themselves from giving in to what they feel; there would be no passion. I have feelings for you, and I've had them for longer than I was able to admit to you."

To unlearn things that you were taught to do your whole life may be one of the hardest things to do. Max had been taught in a harsh way to repress his emotions. "Don't cry, that's for girls, for pussies," his father would have told him multiple times from a very young age. He had been taught to be cold, to think before feeling, to act before speaking. Speaking on the basis of emotions had been engraved in his brain as something bad. That was why, when he wanted to tell Charles all that he felt, no sound came out even when he opened his mouth. What Charles seemed to ride with such ease was a mountain to climb for Max. This was, after all, Max's biggest hurdle.

"I guess you'll have to teach me how to do that," Max said, rubbing his thumb against the brunette's cheek, "to feel."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Max's heartfelt confession echoed in Charles's mind, replaying the willingness to try for them. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile, unable to be suppressed. "I'll teach you," he agreed, almost teary-eyed, reinforcing the blond's observation that he was comfortably in touch with his emotions.

Charles had spent nights pondering the aftermath of his initial confession to Max. While he hoped for the man to reciprocate his feelings, the reality of it happening caught him off guard. He didn't let his hopes soar too high, wary of delusion, but even in his wildest fantasies, he hadn't imagined an outcome as positive as this. Max was not just opening up but admitting a readiness to embrace emotions after a prolonged period of suppressing them.

"You seem to be really good at it," Max smiled, his gaze filled with fondness for the other driver. "No one ever taught me anything about it," he said, the bittersweetness in his tone dominating the conversation. "It always made me feel like someone else had control over me," he confessed, pulling his hands away from the brunette. "Or at least that's what I was told, that if I gave in to my feelings, I'd lose control of myself."

"And look where I am now," he chuckled. "I guess it was kind of true; I crashed into Carlos because of something he said about you." He lifted his eyebrows, diverting his gaze. "And yet, I wouldn't do the same to you even if I really needed to."

Sympathy for Max welled up in Charles as he understood Jos' criticisms extended beyond karting to Max's emotions and character. Wrapping his arms around Max, Charles closed the gap between them, fitting together like puzzle pieces, allowing vulnerability to surface. Head resting on Max's shoulder, he acknowledged the depth of the man's commitment, realizing he would reciprocate. He'd protected Max above his own teammate when he'd been asked whether the crash had been purposeful despite knowing the answer— his connection to Max put into question just how loyal he truly was to Ferrari.