Chapter Text
CHARLES
On Friday morning, there was a secret meeting. A secret meeting with Lando, Carlos, Pierre, Daniel, and Lewis. A secret meeting with conveniently only people who knew about Charles’ crush on Max.
Charles had intervened accidentally. His aim was to find Carlos to ask for information on where Fred was, but rather walked into his driver’s room to be met with all of them with their eyes wide like deer caught in headlights. Caught, would be correct.
“What the f*ck is happening?” Charles accused, raising his eyebrows judgementally.
“Nothing…” Lando replied, sing-songy. Charles’ glare at him was enough to make him clear his throat, sending a helpless glance in Carlos’ direction, who just shrugged helplessly.
“What’s going on with you and Max?” Daniel inquired, finally giving him a clue on what the meeting was about.
“Nothing. I’m still crushing on him if that’s what you want to know,” he explained, feeling oddly betrayed that they’d host a secret gossip session about his pathetic crush.
“Charles,” Pierre mumbled but immediately shut his mouth when Daniel elbowed him in the side.
“What?”
Sending a glance at Daniel’s stern expression, he shook his head, telling him that he didn’t mean anything. Their twin telepathy wasn't even needed for Charles to know that he meantsomething.
Did he mean to say that Charles was being stupid about this? That it was entertaining for him to have a crush on Max for the first week, but this has reached tragic levels.
When Charles was ready to bolt out the door, aware of how utterly miserable he was acting, Daniel grabbed his arm, holding him in place with a too-tight grip.
“We need to talk,” he announced.
Instead of keeping him with the group, he motioned to his own driver’s room. Charles led the way, feeling like he was a student taking the walk of shame to the principal’s office. Although this wasn’t shame, it was fear. Max’s protector was asking to speak with him alone. He’d f*cked up.
The door was closed behind them, and Daniel was pacing the floor.
Pacing.
Daniel never paced. He was the most collected and stress-free person Charles had ever laid his eyes on, but here he was roaming around the room like if he stopped moving, he’d die.
“Daniel—”
And like having words in the room made Daniel snap out of his headspace, he instantly interrupted him, “Do you remember what I told you? When we spoke about having a crush on Max.”
“Oh my God. Do you… Is your crush back?” Charles asked, nervous. Daniel would win that war any day of the week. Actually, it wouldn’t even be a war since he’d surrender the first second.
“What? No.”
All of Charles’ disappointment leeched out of him, only to be replaced with that previous fear of the unknown reason behind Daniel's unusualness.
“I told you to leave him alone if you didn’t want to take things further,” he clarified, giving him a knowing look.
“I know- I…”
“He’s noticing. Max is noticing. Like I said he would. If you’re ever going to pull out, you’re going to do it now. Do you understand me?” he informed and threatened.
The news was too much for Charles to wrap his head around. Of course, he was flirting with Max because he’d realised that he wanted their future to exist as more than ‘friends’.
It was the fact that Max was noticing that set his heart racing. He didn’t know whether to feel nauseous, excited, or terrified… No, he felt all of those things.
“He’s noticing,” Charles stuttered out. The concept was still unnatural in his mind.
“I f*cking told you he would, Charles,” Daniel groaned.
It took too long to realise Daniel was so angry because he thought Charles was about to bow out now. That was the last thing he would do. Now was the full send moment. If Max rejected him, he’d probably go on a bender and have multiple one-night stands in just one night. If not… then holy sh*t, right?
“Daniel, I want him,” he reassured. He realised he sounded like a creep way too late, but there was undeniable relief on Daniel’s face. “I listened to what you said. I started flirting with him because I wanted to take things further. I swear,” he explained further. “He’s noticing,” he repeated in a whisper because he still couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“Yes.”
“How? What has he told you?” Charles insisted, because he needed to know how far along Max was into realising his crush. His plan still needed time. Time so that when his secret was out, Max might respect their friendship enough not to spread the word if he was disgusted by him.
He'd only had the past five weeks to begin flirting with Max, and that was only when they saw each other on the track – and in Monaco to play padel. It wasn’t long enough, yet when he thought about it, it was too long as well.
“You know I can’t tell you. I endorse you doing whatever you’re doing with him if you’re following through with it, but I won’t tell you anything Max tells me. Sorry,” Daniel reminded him.
It made Charles feel betrayed that Pierre told Daniel about his feelings towards Max straight away. He needed someone to keep his secrets the way Daniel kept Max’s.
Selfishly, though, he wished Daniel didn’t do that for Max. He needed answers right now, not for him being a good friend.
“Come on. I need to know what he’s thinking. Does he want me to stop?” Charles rushed out, eager to know whether his thing with Max was making him grossed out.
Daniel sighed, clearly debating the right way to word things. “He hasn’t used the words uncomfortable or creepy yet.”
Ah ha! So there was a chance that Max wasn’t going to hate him forever now. His flirting wasn’t making him feel uncomfortable – hopefully. Which meant that he could continue with it, right? He could continue trying to get Max to gain a crush on him.
*
It was stupid how much effort it took to get Max to crush on him. Normally he had girls pining over him everywhere he showed up. Whether fans or just random girls who thought he was attractive at bars and clubs. The point of the story is that Charles had never fought this hard in his life for someone. Why Max?
*
Max was there. Max was always somewhere in the grasp of Charles. Whether in the same country, paddock, or room. There was no escaping him.
In no world did Charles genuinely want to have distance between them, but in moments like these, when he knew he was about to do something ignorantly stupid, he wanted him gone.
“Hey, Max,” Charles greeted.
It wasn’t an accident, them being in the same place this time. Charles had assumed Max would either be in his hospitality or driver’s room. With that default knowledge, he did the only logical thing and hunted him down.
Thankfully, he was outside of the team building, on the tables where very few Red Bull workers were drafting last-minute strategies. Which meant that it could at leastseem like Charles was just strolling by and spotted him.
“Hey, Charles,” Max greeted, glancing away from the laptop that was in front of him. He was doing work. He was running over his strategy. He was busy.
But Charles didn’t care. The knowledge that Max wasn't disgusted or even uncomfortable about his change in behavior was circuiting in his brain like electricity.
He was about to push their boundaries, but he didn’t care. It was like he was running on adrenaline.
“You know how we’re no longer hating each other?” he questioned, leaning forward across on his elbows, indicating he was about to suggest something.
“Yeah?” Max carefully said, shutting his laptop and giving his full attention to Charles. Good.
“I was thinking… It’s about time we take our relationship to a new level, don’t you think?” Charles announced, his voice too suggestive at that moment, purposely toying with Max.
“A new level?”
“Mhm. Friends,” he finally revealed.
Friends. He was lying through his teeth on that one. But how the f*ck are you supposed to go from ‘not hating each other anymore’ to ‘crushing on each other’? You can’t. This was a very specific and fragile procedure. It would be slow, but Charles was willing to put in the effort.
Friends was a step in the right direction.
“You want to be friends?” Max checked. The shock on his face was, dare Charles say, cute.
“If I say I like you, will you say it back?” he offered, a smirk falling on his face at the way Max swallowed and scanned his face for seriousness.
Of course, Charles was being serious. Hell, speaking those words would be more of the truth than what Max would expect, and that kind of made his heart beat faster, knowing that he’d be keeping something from Max – something so important and delicate.
“Sure,” Max agreed. The hesitance that was on his face previously had washed off as he straightened himself up, leaning onto the table to mimic Charles.
It was now or never. Their moment to declare friendship and for Charles to let out the big secret in a way that wouldn’t keep it hidden. It felt childish for his heart to be beating out of his chest, and for a sense of excitement to flood his chest. It was immature to be that yearning to get the words off of his chest and mind. But this would help, wouldn’t it?
“I like you.” The words left his mouth casually, sounding normal, in the friendship way. Although for a moment Charles was scared there was something else mixed in their – stone, cold truth.
“It back,” Max replied. Technically, keeping his word by saying it back— literally. The smug look on his face was so annoying, so aggravating, so- so Max, and Charles seriously couldn’t be mad at him for it.
Oh, but he could pretend.
“Tu es vraiment énervant. Chaque chose que tu fais m’énerve, et tu as tellement de chance que j’ai des sentiments stupides á ton égard, sinon tu aruais des ennuis. Je le jure—“ His voice was full of an unbelievable amount of aggravation, but his words were loosely translated to, ‘You’re so annoying. Everything you do annoys me, and you’re so lucky that I have some stupid feelings for you, otherwise you’d be in so much trouble. I swear to—‘, but Max didn’t need to know that, and he clearly didn’t because his interruption had nothing to do with calling him out.
“Stop being mean to me or I’ll fall in love.”
Too many emotions were flying around Charles’ head at his little remark. Endearment and adoration - at him being so witty and well... Max again - shock - at how unexpected the response was - mixed with tension and frustration - because Max had no idea exactly what that entailed.
It took too long to realise he’d been staring at Max with a bewildered expression. The only reason he’d even come to that conclusion was because Max had cleared his throat and squirmed in his seat slightly. Visibly, Max had become nervous and regretful, like he’d said the wrong thing, which he definitely hadn’t if his end goal was to get Charles just that last bit infatuated with him.
Speak. The concept became too hard. For at least just a millisecond until the memory of wanting to go all out – be bold – had reminded him the entire reason he was there was to flirt with Max.
All he could do was continue, since that’s what Max had said to ‘stop’ about, “Comme je le disais, vous êtes l’une des personnes les plus odieuses au monde." (As I was saying, you are one of the most obnoxious people in the world.) "Presque tout ce que tu fais me rend fou, et parfois c’est parce que tu es si parfait." (Almost everything you do drives me crazy, and sometimes it’s because you’re so perfect.)
“Charles,” he spoke after Charles paused. A bright flush covered his face, and it was so stupidly amusing how sensitive Max was… He’d only ever really seen Max this flustered in a few situations, not around anyone besides Daniel and… well, him now. “You’re so annoying.”
“I love it when you say my name,” Charles confessed, starting to find joy in the American pronunciation with his Dutch accent lacing it. It made it unique - made it Max.
Max choked on air, which meant that Charles was actually having an effect on him. He was winning in this mind game that Max was unaware of and definitely not willingly playing.
“I don’t know if, in this situation, I should kiss or kill you,” Max mumbled. The blush on his face was as red as that night in Qatar, his lip was bit in between his teeth, and his eyes flicked down to his closed laptop. Anything but shameless or confident.
Be bold.
Charles leaned in further, the small table allowing their faces to be no more than a few centimetres away. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do in public, but there was no control over himself right now. His brain took the reality of Max flirting with him and running wild with it.
“Can I pick?” he requested, tone seductive and deeper than normal. Once again, Max choked on nothing, his eyes squeezing shut for real, and his breathing was wrong. Charles had pushed too far—
“Charles,” he all but gasped out. “I-I should get back to work.” He’d made Max Verstappen stutter, perhaps the first person ever to achieve such things. Unfortunately, he’d achieved it the wrong way, Max would be finished with him after that.
Too bold.
“Yeah, you should,” Charles agreed, sitting back in his chair and regaining his composure. Max didn’t reach for his laptop, his mouth agape and twitching, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. Deciding to do him a favor, Charles stood up, his stomach full of knots and his head lightheaded.
Never again would he flirt with Max. Not after that. There would be no surprise if Daniel approached him tomorrow, telling him to back off.
*
'Tomorrow' was much different than he’d expected.
Carlos, Pierre, Daniel, and he were in Daniel’s hotel room after the sprint race.
Personally, he’d only slipped down one place during the nineteen-lap race, landing him in P3. A podium, technically, if they were doing one, but because it was just a simple, short race, a podium wasn’t needed.
Although, as a substitute, the top three drivers stood together to get a picture. The winner (Max) in the middle, and in this case, Charles on his side. Just maybe he grasped Max’s waist a little too hard, but only because it would be the last time he'd have the opportunity to do so.
Really, not being on a podium didn’t mean much to him. The results from the sprint were promising ahead of the proper race. Even better, he’d taken pole the day before. Which meant, finally, Charles had faith that a podium was in his grasp again.
Carlos was versing Pierre in FIFA while Daniel hosted the music blasting from the speaker. Charles sat on the singular couch, off further away from everyone, giving him the advantage to boredly scroll on his phone.
Pierre had dragged him along, probably noticing his lower-than-normal mood after the disaster with Max the previous day.
The sound of the door opening was only heard by Charles since the speaker was far away from him. His eyes flicked up to see Max walking in, his eyes coincidentally also landed on Charles. He made his way towards the group of people, neither of the three taking too much attention besides Daniel, who distant-mindedly waved off to him. Rolling his eyes, Max walked to where Charles was sitting— now rather tense.
“There's no other chairs. Can I sit here?” he asked, pointing down to him. At first, Charles thought he was asking for him to move, but then he focused on where his finger was pointing, into his—
“Max, that’s my lap,” he clarified.
“I know—“
“If Charles doesn’t want you, I’ll gladly—” Max had turned around slightly to look at Daniel while he spoke.
So, with hot jealousy running through his veins, Charles’ hands grabbed onto his hips from behind, practically yanking him into his lap. With Daniel’s sentence ending abruptly since his plan was a success, Max’s surprised squeak was heard over the music just for Charles.
The smirk plastered on Pierre’s face made Charles finally acknowledge the hands that were still possessively wrapped around Max’s waist. His fingers subconsciously flexed around him, resulting in Max shifting slightly where he was perched on his lower thighs.
It would be weird to have his hands uncomfortably to the side of Max’s legs, wouldn’t it? But this made it seem like they were a couple – his hands around his waist while he was sitting on his lap – even if it was only in front of their friends.
Finally, he moved his hands away, reaching for his phone and scrolling on it behind Max’s back again. Throughout his time on Twitter, he heard Max and Carlos arguing about who was better at FIFA since Carlos’ playing tactics and skills ‘sucked’ and has he ‘even played this game before?’.
Their rivalry became out of control quickly, and in no time, Pierre was leaving for his own hotel room. Max casually slipped off his lap to the empty seat next to Carlos with the remaining controller, and Daniel was still absentmindedly nodding his head to the music.
Max did end up winning. And again. And again.
Charles tried not to think about the fact that Pierre had left meant he, too, no longer had to be there in order to ‘be more social’. A part of him just wanted to witness Max destroy Carlos at a game he loved so much.
Eventually – on the fifth game – Carlos won, and everyone decided to wrap things up in order to get some well-needed sleep for the race the next day. Back in his hotel room, Charles received barely any sleep, having been kept up all night with circling thoughts of Max.
No one would just request to sit on someone’s lap if that someone made them uncomfortable, right? So… so, yesterday Charles hadn’t made him overly uncomfortable if he was willing to… sit on Charles’ lap.
Was he overthinking this, or was it normal for anyone to sit on someone’s lap if it wasn’t in an attempt to- to flirt? Was Max finally returning the whole flirting thing? Was Max… Was Max flirting with him?!
No.
No. No.
No, he couldn’t’ve been. Charles was reading this all wrong. There were just no chairs left. And it was very normal for friends to sit on each other. Carlos had sat on him before, Charles had sat on Pierre before, and Lando isalways sitting on Carlos - actually... that didn't really hold a good argument in this case considering their not-exactly-friends relationship.
Why wouldn’t Max have sat on Daniel’s lap then? That was his best friend out of all of them. Wouldn't that be the most comfortable? Or was it awkward for them to do that with their history of crushes on each other?
No. Charles had seen them be touchy with no feelings behind it on multiple occasions.
So, why Charles?
Why if not…
If not Max flirting back for once.
