Dopamine | Adrenaline Book Two

7- An Old Friend

Having spent the entire night fighting, confessing, making love, and talking until sleep became too powerful to resist, Charles could have slept through anything. As the light through the window began to target his face directly, he whined softly and buried his head into Max's shoulder, pulling the soft covers over his naked body and cuddling closer.

"I love you," were the first words out of his mouth.

Awakened by the faint sound of Charles's voice, Max slowly opened his eyes, his eyelids feeling heavy as he was immediately hit with the sensation of a hangover from the previous night's ventures. Softly smiling at him, Max began to notice the boat's swaying was much stronger than the night before. Taking a moment to fully grasp the situation, Max draped his arm over the brunette, silently running his hand over his spine, his fingers slowly caressing him as his eyes wandered around the room.

When his gaze landed on the window, his eyes widened. There was no view of any other boats or the pier, only the endless ocean.

"Where are we?" Max raised his voice, startled, as he sat up and pushed Charles off him. The sight of the open door made the blond begin to panic. "We didn't leave the door open, did we?" he frowned, jumping out of bed to pick up his clothes from the floor, which were now dry.

"Where the fuck has he taken us?" Max whispered sharply to Charles as he hurriedly dressed, tossing Charles's clothes over to him.

"I don't know, I was asleep," Charles whispered through gritted teeth, hoping it would muffle his voice.

Realizing he left his suit outside on the deck, Charles had no choice but to put on the older man's clothes again, still surprised they weren't too small on him, considering their height difference. As he slipped into the pants, the boat's swaying caught him off balance, knocking him to the ground with a loud thump. Charles looked up at Max with wide eyes, wondering if the older man now knew they were awake.

"He saw us," Charles stated the obvious. "Do you think he'll tell anyone?" he said in a panic, standing back up and keeping a small distance from Max, as if they hadn't already been caught naked in bed together and as if pretending they weren't together was still an option.

Charles didn't know Fernando Alonso very well, but he could answer his own question, knowing the man wouldn't expose them without reason. He asked a more appropriate question instead: "What if he blackmails us?"

It was a possibility, one they were too deep in to avoid, especially if there was any photographic evidence. Fernando could have easily taken some when he'd opened the door.

Taking the first steps out the door, Charles looked around and didn't see any signs of the older driver but heard faint music coming from the upper deck. Assessing their options, Charles could still see the faint glimmer of the pier, but getting back there on their own was out of the question.

In a walk of shame, he began making his way upwards, looking back at Max. "Should we have a story ready?" he asked, realizing it was something he should have discussed before making it this far up.

"Only if you promise to make it entertaining," a voice called from above. The signature Spanish accent was missing, replaced by a German one that Charles could recognize anywhere.

Breaking his gaze from Max and looking upwards to the couple of steps they had left before reaching the deck, he saw Sebastian Vettel looking down at them with amusement, leaving the younger boy utterly confused.

"Your breakfast is getting cold. Are you guys coming up or going back down to my bed?" he asked. But upon seeing how red Charles' face became, he quickly backpedaled on his teasing nature, knowing the boy's sensitivity. "Come on, boys, it's just me up here. Don't make me feel guilty for enjoying my boat."