Chapter Text
The Red Bull factory was a hive of activity, with the whirr of machinery and the murmur of engineers discussing the finer points of performance. During this controlled chaos, Max Verstappen stood, his keen eyes observing every detail as the Red Bull mechanics worked diligently on his car. He occasionally leaned in to ask for minor adjustments, his voice cutting through the din with authority and precision. Linda, ever composed and efficient, approached him with a purposeful stride, the tablet held securely in her hands. She waited for a moment when Max wasn’t deep in conversation with the mechanics before stepping forward.
"Mr. Verstappen, this is the request sent from Lady Victoria," she announced, her voice clear yet respectful of the surrounding activity.
Max glanced at her, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "Do I need to remind you that this is the Red Bull factory?" he said, his tone sharp as he accepted the tablet from her.
Linda, unfazed, met his gaze steadily. "And you are the heir to the Verstappen household, sir."
With a resigned sigh, Max began to read the document, his eyes scanning each line with a mixture of annoyance and duty. "Any news from my wife?" he asked, his tone softening as he looked up at her.
Linda nodded. "He's sent pictures of him and Leo swimming, asking when you'll be home, and wondering if you like the new vases he bought at an auction."
A genuine smile softened Max’s features. "Well, I miss him too." His eyes darted to the chat on Linda's tablet, where he noted the image of a vase. "He's always beautiful, wearing anything."
Linda looked puzzled. "Sir, it's just a flower vase. What do you mean?"
Max chuckled softly. "The bracelet he's wearing is something I got for him at Saint Tropez. Give me the tablet." He exchanged tablets with Linda, his fingers moving quickly as he typed a response.
"Do you need anything else, Linda?" he asked, his attention momentarily shifting from the screen.
"All clear. I'll send the news to Lady Victoria," she replied, then added, "My tablet, sir?"
"I'm taking this," Max stated firmly.
"Sir, you have your own phone to chat with your wife," she pointed out.
"He's answering, Linda," Max replied, his focus already back on the message.
Recognising a losing battle, Linda inclined her head. "Well then, have a nice day, my lord."
As she walked away, Max remained engrossed in his dual tasks: overseeing the intricate adjustments to his car and connecting with his beloved.
Three days had passed without a single notification from Charles. The silence gnawed at Max, who found himself repeatedly checking his phone, scrolling through their past chats. Charles had a habit of sending pictures, snapshots of his daily life that Max meticulously organised into various folders on his phone, creating a personal collection dedicated to Charles Leclerc. As Max reviewed their last exchange, he noticed that the last thing he had sent to Charles was a picture of himself in a meeting with Checo. Perhaps, just perhaps, Charles assumed he was too busy with updates and responsibilities to reply.
Max: Schatje, do you need anything while I’m in the UK?
sent at 9:15 AM
It took only three minutes for Charles to reply, and he did so with a photo.
Charles: Amourr, I think there’s a problem with our gate sensor. Just now, it didn’t recognise my car.
Max: I’ll tell someone to fix it. Where are you now?
Charles: I’m thinking about buying a new piano. We don’t have one at home.
Max: Found any you like?
Charles: I don’t know, it’s hard to choose. Everything is beautiful.
Charles: Max, I met someone I know. Talk to you later.
Max: Will do. Love you.
Max stared at the screen, a smile playing on his lips. The short exchange brought a sense of relief, a reassurance that despite the silence, everything was alright. He quickly forwarded the gate sensor issue to the appropriate personnel, ensuring it would be taken care of promptly. His mind wandered back to Charles. The image of him browsing through pianos, surrounded by elegant instruments, made Max’s heart swell with warmth. He could picture Charles, his eyes lighting up as he examined each piano, fingers itching to play.
It was late night in Milton Keynes, and Max Verstappen was at the end of a gruelling week of work. He felt the weight of fatigue in every muscle, but his mind refused to rest. The thought of departing for Monaco the next day should have brought him comfort, yet unease gnawed at him, a constant, restless whisper in the back of his mind. Determined to distract himself, he scrolled through his Red Bull emails, addressing any unfinished tasks. He was resolute not to let work interfere with his precious moments with Charles once he returned home.
A new notification caught his eye: an update regarding their CCTV software. Max had meticulously installed cameras in every corner of their penthouse, linked directly to both his and Charles's phones. Intrigued, he opened the app and began reviewing the live feed. The timestamp showed that it was an hour earlier in Monaco. The house appeared empty, suggesting Charles was still out, perhaps with family or friends.
Driven by curiosity and a growing sense of longing, Max began to replay the previous recordings. The footage captured Charles in various moments of their daily life: playing with Leo, working out, cooking, and cleaning their home. Each scene was a poignant reminder of the life they shared. Max felt a warm affection as he watched Charles move through their home, his presence filling the spaces Max longed to be.
Then he reached the recording from the day he had left for the UK. Charles arrived home, a bouquet of flowers in his arms. As Max watched, his heart sank. The Monegasque seemed exhausted, his movements slow and laboured. To Max's horror, he saw Charles sink to the floor, his back trembling. The high-definition footage made it painfully clear that Charles was crying.
Guilt hit Max like a physical blow. He had always known Charles to be resilient, but witnessing this vulnerability was heart-wrenching. The sight of Charles, crumpled and weeping on the floor, filled Max with an overwhelming sense of responsibility. How had he not seen the depth of Charles's loneliness? The marriage was a lifeline for both of them, and Max realised how crucial his presence was. Without him, Charles was utterly alone, bearing the weight of their relationship’s expectations.
Max continued watching, his heart heavy with sorrow. He saw Charles in their bedroom, loathing the empty bed. He noticed how Charles had arranged pillows under the blanket, mimicking Max’s presence. Charles curled up, leaning against the soft fabric as if it were Max himself. The sight was almost too much to bear. It was clear that Charles missed him desperately, a fact that cut through Max's heart like a knife. He knew he was a clingy person, but this footage revealed the depth of Charles's feelings, feelings he had been hiding to avoid burdening Max.
The next day's footage was equally heart-wrenching. Charles was smelling his flowers, dancing with Leo in the kitchen, looking so beautiful and yet so heartbreakingly alone. Max’s heart ached with longing. Charles then went to the wardrobe, donned one of Max’s Red Bull sweaters, and continued dancing. Despite often expressing disdain for Red Bull paraphernalia, Max realised it was a way for Charles to feel connected to him during his lonely days. The irony was not lost on him; Charles wore the sweater to feel close to him, even though he claimed to hate it.
Then the doorbell rang, and Max fast-forwarded through the visit from the lawyer handling the asset transfer. Once the lawyer left, Charles's joy was palpable as he celebrated with Leo, throwing himself onto the bed with childlike glee. Swinging his feet in the air and as always, Leo was there to share everything that happened within their penthouse. This side of Charles was new to Max, a hidden depth of personality and emotion that he had never fully appreciated.
However, the following moments were too much for Max to bear. He watched Charles have breakfast with their wedding photos beside him, as if Max were there. The delicate kisses he placed on his phone screen, where Max knew their photos together resided, each gesture screamed of a profound and painful longing. Charles was doing everything he could to feel close to Max, to fill the void of his absence.
Max's eyes filled with tears. "I’m the worst husband, aren’t I?" he whispered to himself. The depth of Charles’s loneliness and longing was a stark reminder of how much his presence meant. The next day, as Max prepared to leave for Monaco, he couldn't shake the images of Charles from his mind. Every moment replayed in his head, a vivid reminder of the pain his absence caused.
Charles had always been a sleepy person, especially within the comforting walls of their home. The room was dimly lit, with just a few soft lights casting a gentle glow. He remembered dozing off in the living room while watching a series, but now he found himself in their bedroom. The warmth against his back and the familiar weight of an arm draped over him. Did someone-
“Maxyy,” Charles murmured, turning slowly to face his husband. There, beside him, Max slept soundly, wearing a Ferrari shirt, what a view.
“Maxyy, welcome back,” Charles whispered, pressing a tender kiss to Max’s arms, careful not to wake him.
“That’s a sweet way to wake up your husband, Charles,” Max’s voice was soft, and his eyes fluttered open, filled with warmth. Charles couldn't look away, his heart pounding with the disbelief of seeing Max again. It felt almost like seeing a ghost, a presence so longed for that it seemed unreal.
“Baby?” Max’s hand reached up to caress Charles’s cheek. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“No,” Charles replied, his voice barely a whisper as he scooted closer, pressing himself against Max’s chest, his hands clinging to Max’s back as if to anchor himself in reality. “I’m just...so happy you’re here.” Max’s arms wrapped around Charles, holding him close, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. “I’m home.”
Charles buried his face in Max’s chest, inhaling the familiar scent that brought comfort and security. “I missed you so much,” he confessed, his voice breaking with emotion.
Max’s grip tightened, his own heart aching with the weight of their separation. “I missed you too, Charles. More than you can imagine.”
For a moment, they lay there in silence, the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, each finding solace in the other’s presence. Max gently ran his fingers through Charles’s hair, a soothing gesture that slowly eased the tension from his husband’s body. Max cupped Charles’s face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “Thank you for waiting for me Schatje, for being strong.” Charles nodded, a small, relieved smile playing on his lips.
Max leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Charles’s lips. They held each other close, letting the warmth and comfort of their reunion wash over them. Just the two of them, together at last. As they lay there, Max continued to soothe Charles with soft touches and whispered reassurances, feeling the weight of their time apart slowly lift. Charles’s breathing evened out, and he drifted back into a peaceful sleep, nestled safely in Max’s arms. Max watched him for a while, his heart full.
Charles woke up that morning, a sense of disorientation washing over him as he glanced around the empty room. For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming, like a teenager pining for his crush, though in this case, his crush was also his husband. He sighed, feeling the familiar pang of longing. Then, he heard faint noises coming from the kitchen. Curious and hopeful, Charles slipped out of bed and padded softly down the hallway. As he entered the kitchen, he saw Max fresh from a bath, his damp hair glistening in the morning light. He was wearing only a pair of shorts, with his Ferrari polo shirt draped over a chair. The sight was enough to make Charles’s heart skip a beat.
Max noticed his footsteps and turned, a loving smile spreading across his face. "Morning," he greeted softly, crossing the room to meet Charles. He grabbed Charles’s waist and effortlessly lifted him onto the kitchen table, wrapping him in his blankets.
“Morning,” Charles replied, his voice tinged with shyness. His cheeks turned a rosy pink, reminiscent of a high schooler experiencing their first blush of love. The touch of Max’s cool hands on his warm thighs sent shivers down his spine.
Max leaned in and planted a soft peck on Charles’s cheek, his eyes twinkling with affection. "You’re blushing," he teased gently, his arms encircling Charles’s waist.
Charles’s heart fluttered at the casual intimacy of Max’s touch. Unable to resist, he hugged Max’s strong arms, holding on tightly. This was what he had missed so much, the simple, tender moments of connection that made everything else fade away.
Max chuckled softly, his breath warm against Charles’s ear. “I’ve missed this,” he whispered, his hands tracing soothing patterns on Charles’s back. “I’ve missed you.”
Charles nestled closer, his head resting on Max’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you too, Max.”
For a few minutes, they remained like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the world outside fading into insignificance. The warmth of their bodies, the rhythm of their breathing, and the shared silence spoke volumes. Max pulled back slightly, brushing a strand of hair from Charles’s face. “How about some breakfast? I was just about to make something.” Charles nodded, a content smile spreading across his face. So happy he was the real Max, not some sort of sleep-awake dreams from his long for the man.
Max helped him off the table, his hands lingering on Charles’s waist as they moved to the kitchen counter. Charles watched as Max busied himself with preparing breakfast. The domesticity of the scene filled Charles with a profound sense of peace. Charles, comfortably sprawled out with his legs on Max’s lap, savoured his food while Max gently caressed his calf.
“So, the piano. Wanna check them with me?” Max asked, his fingers tracing light circles on Charles's skin.
“Yes! Let’s go!” Charles replied eagerly, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He hurriedly grabbed Max’s arms, almost straddling his lap in his enthusiasm.
Max chuckled at Charles’s infectious energy. “Monaco is small. I suggest we take this to the Netherlands instead. I’ve booked a few appointments at different piano stores for you to look at. I don’t know much about pianos, but you can teach me. Plus, my family misses you. We can make a trip out of it.”
As Max spoke, his gaze softened, captivated by the sight before him. Charles, with a bit of food at the corner of his lips, his eyes still hazy from sleep, and his delicate hands holding onto him, looked absolutely beautiful. Max felt a pang of protectiveness and love. How could he ever leave this enchanting creature alone? Without Charles, he felt incomplete, defensive, and deeply lonely.
“Okay, let’s go!” Charles agreed readily, his excitement evident. He seemed willing to go along with whatever Max had planned, perhaps too eager to escape the solitude he felt. But Max understood. He would take care of everything, ensuring Charles had what he needed and more.
“Alright, we’ll leave this afternoon,” Max said, his voice filled with determination. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect for you.”
Charles leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Max’s lips. “Thank you, Max. I’m excited.”
Max smiled, his heart swelling with love. “Anything for you, Schatje. Now, finish your breakfast so we can get ready.”
Charles grinned, resuming his meal with renewed excitement. Max continued to watch him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. This was his life now, filled with love, laughter, and the promise of endless mornings just like this. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Charles blushed easily whenever he was with Max, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink that only deepened the more time they spent together. His smile, radiant and genuine, seemed to shine as brightly as the sun itself. He would yap about everything, his words tumbling over each other in his excitement and affection. Whenever Max was around, Charles transformed into a lovestruck teenager. His usually composed demeanour gave way to a more animated, almost giddy version of himself. It was endearing to see, and who could blame him? Max Verstappen had that effect on people, especially on Charles.
In the presence of the man he loved, Charles’s guard was down, and his emotions were laid bare. He would blush at Max’s affectionate words, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably at Max’s jokes. The way he looked at Max, with eyes full of admiration and love, spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings. Max, on his part, loved this side of Charles. He adored the way Charles’s face would light up, the way his smile could brighten even the darkest days. Seeing Charles so happy, so in love, made Max’s heart swell with pride and affection. He knew that Charles’s transformation around him was a testament to the strength of their bond, and he cherished every moment of it.
“Where are you going, Charles?” Max called out, noticing Charles heading towards the staircase. He hurriedly closed the distance between them and grabbed his hand.
Charles turned, a rushed glint in his eyes. “To the second floor. I think they have another collection up there,” he said, glancing towards the grand piano that was visible from the first floor.
Max smiled; his curiosity piqued. “Well, let’s go then.”
Without missing a beat, Max wrapped his arm around Charles’s waist, guiding him towards the staircase. The gesture was so natural, so intimate, that it felt like they were back at their penthouse, where such displays of affection were a regular part of their lives. Charles’s cheeks heated up, the familiar blush creeping across his face. He glanced up at Max, feeling a mix of shyness and happiness. “You know, you don’t have to hold me so close all the time,” he said, though his tone was ashamed rather than complaining.
Max chuckled, his grip tightening slightly as they ascended the stairs. “But I want to,” he replied softly. “I love having you close.”
As they reached the second floor, Charles’s gaze wandered over the new collection of art and antiques on display. But he found it hard to concentrate with Max’s arm still firmly around his waist, the warmth of his body a comforting presence.
“See anything you like?” Max asked, his voice a low murmur in Charles’s ear.
Charles’s blush deepened as he looked around, finally settling his eyes on a beautifully ornate painting. “That one,” he said, pointing. “It’s stunning.”
Max followed his gaze, nodding appreciatively. “It is. You’ve got a good eye, Schatje.”
They continued to explore the second floor, Max’s arm never leaving Charles’s waist. Every so often, Charles would catch Max’s eye, and they would share a secret smile, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they shared.
Eventually, they made their way back to the grand piano. Charles’s fingers itched to play, and he glanced up at Max, a silent question in his eyes.
Max nodded, understanding immediately. “Go ahead,” he said, releasing his hold on Charles just enough to let him move towards the piano.
Charles sat down at the bench, his fingers gliding over the keys. As he played, Max stood close by, watching with admiration. The music filled the room, a beautiful melody that seemed to capture the essence of their love.
When Charles finished, he looked up at Max, his cheeks still flushed. “What do you think?” he asked, a bit shyly.
Max leaned down, pressing a kiss to Charles’s forehead. “It was perfect, just like you,” he said softly.
“Oh, if only he knew,” Charles thought to himself, feeling the kiss from Max lingering on his forehead, making his cheeks burn even more. Max had a way of doing that, turning even the simplest gestures into something that made Charles feel warm all over. Max had walked away to speak with an attendant, likely arranging for the piano to be wrapped and delivered. Charles tried to compose himself, taking deep breaths to calm the heat on his cheeks and the fluttering sensation in his stomach. He glanced around the room, attempting to distract himself with the other artworks and antiques on display, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Max. The way Max’s eyes sparkled with affection, the warmth of his embrace, and the gentle touch of his lips on Charles’s forehead, it all combined to make Charles feel like he was floating on air.
Taking a seat at the grand piano once more, Charles let his fingers dance over the keys in an attempt to steady himself. The familiar rhythm of the music helped, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of excitement and love that bubbled within him. Each note he played seemed to echo the emotions swirling inside him. A few minutes later, Max returned, his expression one of satisfaction. “They’ll have it wrapped and sent to the manor first by tomorrow,” he said, his eyes locking onto Charles’s.
Charles nodded, his fingers stilling on the keys. “Thank you, Max,” he said, his voice soft. Max shrugged, moving closer until he was standing right beside Charles. “I want you to have everything you love.”
They were walking back to the car through the VIP room, Max's hand lingering possessively on Charles’s waist. Charles's cheeks were still warm, the lingering effects of Max's affectionate gestures making him feel like he was on fire. As they reached the car, Max opened the door for Charles, a gentlemanly gesture that only added to Charles’s flustered state. Once inside, Max placed his palm on Charles’s thigh, a reassuring yet electrifying touch that made Charles’s heart race. The weight and warmth of Max’s hand were almost too much to bear.
For the rest of the ride back to the manor, Charles could barely concentrate on anything but the hand on his thigh. He squirmed slightly in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position, but every movement seemed to only intensify his awareness of Max’s touch.
“M-Maxyy,” Charles stammered, his voice tinged with nervousness. “Thank you. For everything today.”
Max glanced over at him, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Sweetheart, we are married, please,” he said gently. His thumb began to stroke small, soothing circles on Charles’s thigh.
Charles felt a fresh wave of heat flood his cheeks. “I know, it’s just... you’re making me so nervous,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Max glanced at Charles, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “I’m sorry, honey,” he said softly. “I haven’t seen you for so long. Please forgive me.” His voice was earnest, filled with the regret of missed moments. Charles immediately hugged Max's arm, his face softening. “I- I liked today’s outing. It’s the best day ever, really. I mean it.”
Max’s eyes softened at Charles’s words, the weight of guilt lifting slightly from his shoulders. “O-okay,” he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulled the car into the driveway of the manor. As the engine quieted, Charles turned to Max, his eyes bright with emotion. “Thank you for making a day for me,” he said earnestly. “I love you, really.” Max reached out, cupping Charles’s face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing over Charles’s cheeks. “I love you too, Schatje,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “More than anything.”
Charles’s heart swelled at Max’s words, the sincerity in his eyes making him feel cherished and adored. “You always know how to make me feel special,” he murmured, leaning into Max’s touch. Max smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Charles’s forehead. “That’s because you are special,” he said softly. “And I promise, I’ll always make time for you, no matter what.”
Unlike before, when he had to leave Charles for a planned trip or a sudden engagement, now Max was free to enjoy the rest of the day with the Monegasque. There were no pressing obligations, no schedules to adhere to, just the two of them, basking in each other's presence. Max glanced at Charles, his heart swelling with gratitude. To be loved by Charles Leclerc, to be the one who made him smile and blush, that was all he could ever ask for. The thought filled him with a overwhelming sense of happiness and contentment.