Unbroken hopes|| Charles Leclerc x Max Verstappen(lestappen)Wildest dreams book2

"Good morning, world champion"

Max lay awake in the soft morning light, gazing at the ceiling with a calm smile, his thoughts lingering on the events of the previous day. His emotions were still a bit raw, but in a good way—there was so much to process. Beside him, Charles was fast asleep, his face half-buried in the pillow, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only movement in the room. Max's gaze softened as he watched his husband, the new Formula 1 World Champion, completely at peace after the most intense battle of his life.

Max couldn't help but feel proud of him, even though this was the first time in nearly five years that he wasn't the champion. It felt strange, foreign even, but there was also something deeply satisfying about seeing Charles reach the pinnacle of the sport. He deserved it, without a doubt, and Max had been there to witness his rise every step of the way.

In the days and even weeks prior Max's thoughts weren't entirely free of worry. In the back of his mind, a small voice whispered concerns he couldn't shake—how would people react if he wouldn't win, like he lost yesterday. The orange army, his legion of passionate fans, had always been fiercely loyal to him. Would they turn on Charles, or be thinking Max hadn't fought hard enough because they were together? Would they accuse him of going soft in the final battle?

And then there was his father.

Jos Verstappen had always demanded the best of Max, ever since he was a boy. Winning wasn't just an option; it was the only option. For years, Max had been on top of the world, giving his father everything he'd ever dreamed of. But now, someone else had taken his place. He knew his father adored Charles now—years had passed, and their relationship had softened—but that old fear, the one that lived in the shadows of Max's mind, still lurked. Would his father have been disappointed?

Max let out a quiet breath, shaking his head slightly as he pulled back to the present. He couldn't dwell on them now. He wasn't a child anymore, and he knew how to handle his emotions, even if some fears never fully left him. Besides, he couldn't let those fears cloud the pride he felt for Charles.

Max turned his gaze back to Charles, still sound asleep, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Memories of yesterday flashed through his mind—the celebrations, the chaos, and the overwhelming happiness that followed Charles's championship win. He remembered how Charles had been wrapped in his mother Pascale's arms, then his brothers, Arthur and Lorenzo, all of them relieved and overjoyed. The weight of years of hard work and sacrifice had fallen off their shoulders, and Max had stood back, watching with a smile as the moment belonged to Charles and his family.

But even as Max stood back, Pascale hadn't let him stay there for long. She had pulled him in, her arms wrapping around him as she congratulated him too, not just for his skillful battle but for being right there with Charles, pushing him to be his best. Max had felt his eyes sting with emotion, and though he'd tried to brush it off with a smile, they saw right through him. Pascale had hugged him even tighter, her warmth and acceptance almost overwhelming in the best possible way.

Arthur and Lorenzo had been there too, offering their congratulations, not just for Charles but for Max as well. And then Max had looked over and seen Charles, just released from his own mother's embrace, being pulled into the arms of Jos. His father, the man who had pushed him so hard for so many years, was there, clapping Charles on the back with a proud smile. That moment had filled Max's heart with joy. Seeing his father proud of Charles, too, made everything feel even more perfect. In the back of his mind he always kept longing for his approval.

Max had hesitated for a second before approaching his own family. The little fear about what they might say had still been there, but his worries had quickly melted away. His sister Victoria had cracked a joke, teasing him in that sibling way that always made him roll his eyes but laugh at the same time. His mom had hugged him tightly, her smile telling him that she was just as proud of him as she had been every other time he'd crossed the finish line in first place. His dad had patted him on the back, telling him how proud he was of the fight, and for the first time, Max didn't feel like he had to prove anything more to him.