Chapter Text
Pressing the base of his palms into his eyes, Sebastian sighs, “I told you, not even Mattia knows.”
Charles chokes on air, sputtering out incomprehensible words, “What do you mean Mattia doesn’t know, he knows everything!’
“Well he doesn’t know about this!” Sebastian throws his hands up into the air and a small frown settles onto his face, “and you are not to tell him, or anyone else for that matter.”
Charles whines, dragging a slow hand down his face. Sebastian gives him a pointed look.
“But you know I hate keeping secrets!”
“Well I’ve been doing it for years.”
“That is not something to be proud of.”
“Why not?”
“It’s basically a form of lying!”
“You’re the one who walked in on Kimi and me without knocking!”
Charles lets out a little squeak; “don’t remind me! I need to bleach my eyes now and it’s all your fault.”
“What you walked in on was a two-man job, so don’t just blame it on me.” There was now a flicker of amusement behind Sebastian’s eyes as he watched Charles squirm uncomfortably at the mention of his and Kimi’s post-race activities.
Before his younger teammate could respond, Sebastian ruffles his brown hair lightly, “Just keep it a secret alright,” his tone softens; “we don’t want the publicity just yet,”
Charles nods solemnly as Sebastian gets up to exit his motorhome room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
How nice it must be for Sebastian and Kimi to have each other, only a few garages away from loving comfort. He wonders how long they’ve been together, and he wonders how the ever-stoic Iceman had fallen for the friendly German.
He begins to see them in his memories, glued to one another at every GP they’ve attended, whether it be the driver’s parade, the conferences, dinners and even the flights.
He thinks about the fights they must’ve had, the feeling of having to hide from the world.
He thinks about loving someone who understands him, the pressure, the legacy.
His mind wanders as he lies on his back atop the covers of his small bed, legs strewn about haphazardly. He feels a deep tiredness sweep over him, and he falls asleep thinking of a sharp jaw and the dark blue of a red bull suit.
+
Pierre frowns in concentration as Charles scores another goal in FIFA. They’re both seated on the floor with their backs against the edge of the bed, controllers in hand.
He grumbles, “lucky shot.”
Charles slaps Pierre on the back and laughs while placing the controller away, “that would be seven lucky shots then eh?”
“Oui.”
Charles’s hotel room is neat and tidy, his luggage bag tucked into a cupboard and everything is in its place. Pierre slowly lies down on the floor as Charles plops onto the bed, his head thumping onto the soft pillows. The clock ticks in the background, eight-thirty p.m.
They both take in the silence. A rarity when it’s the two of them together.
“You’ve been really quiet today.”
Charles scoffs, “No I haven’t”
“Sure, Charles.”
“I haven’t”
“I hAvEn’T”
“Are you five?”
“Are you five? You’re sulking a like a baby!”
Charles sits up straight and sighs, a small pout forming. “I can’t tell you.”
Now it’s Pierre’s turn to sit up, he stares at Charles with wide eyes, “you can’t tell me? Since when do you keep secrets?”
His best friend looks away and fiddles with a hangnail. “Since now”
Pierre continues to stare, mouth hanging slightly open.
He can see Charles’s fingers twitching and realises that it must be a serious matter. He’s never really seen Charles this way before, reluctant to share something.
“Hey, its okay, just promise me you’re not in trouble.”
His features change from an empty look to a set of narrowed eyes that glinted with a hint of amusement. “You think I’m in trouble? Is that how you think of me?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“How dare you.”
“Just tell me.” Pierre whines, dragging the last word.
“It’s nothing!”
Squinting, Pierre pinches his cheek, “then why are you blushing. Hah! You like someone.”
Charles now looked as red as his fireproofs. This wasn’t how he was expecting covering for Seb’s secret would be.
Pierre calmed down and smiled softly. He ruffled his best friend’s brown hair and leaned back, “You know you can tell me.”
Charles was thinking overtime now and before he knew it, he was mumbling Max’s name out loud. There goes the thought that’s been haunting him, he thinks.
He sinks into old feelings of rage and anger he felt towards the Dutchman in the first half of the season. Emotions that fuelled dirty thoughts. The fact that with just one sentence; Max manages to make his blood boil in ways no one else is capable of.
Pierre froze and stared, A giggle escaping. “You like your rival? Mon Dieu Charles.”
Looking up, Charles sighs and makes peace with the fact that he’s just blurted out something he’s avoided thinking about for the past two months. ‘For Seb and Kimi’ he thinks.
“It doesn’t matter, he hates me.”
“Sexy.”
Charles makes a face and Pierre starts singing. “Charles and Max sitting in a tree, K-I-L-L-I-N-G.”
“Mature.”
“Only for you, popstar.”
Instead of a sharp quip, Charles simply smiled, “Merci, Pierre.”
“À tout moment, popstar.”
+
Max is lying on his bed, slumped against his pillows eating a stale pretzel as he watches ‘The Proposal’. It’s eight-thirty at night but he feels drained, passing up an invitation to go out exploring with Antonio, Hulkenburg and Daniel.
He realizes he can hear Charles and Pierre in the room across from him, faint laughter echoes through his door from time to time. He hears a sort of banter and bites his lip, they must be having fun, he thinks. He considers asking the Ferrari prince to shut it but he’s too lazy to move.
He’s almost nodding off, hardly paying attention anymore when his phone rings abruptly. Groaning, he reaches for it and peers at the caller ID.
CHRISTIAN
Sighing, Max picks it up and clears his throat, trying to steer away from the fact that he was almost asleep.
“Yeap?”
“Max? Are you busy?”
Staring at Ryan Reynolds holding a dog on screen Max answers, “uh…”
“Remember Eileen?”
Oh no
~A FEW HOURS EARLIER~
Practice 1 is about to start in a couple hours and Max has yet to check in with Christian, trundling around the back of the motorhomes with Lando, Alex, George and Pierre.
Loud laughter and guffaws echo along the pathway. Lando is beet red as the rest of them poke fun at him.
Alex snorts, “isn’t it date night tonight?”
“Shut up!” Lando squeaks.
George coos and earns a slap on the back of his head. “Awh come on little Lando, I’m sure Carlos doesn’t appreciate you harassing people.”
“I don’t have a crush on Carlos!”
Pierre giggles and pats his shoulder, “Alright, alright, I’m sure Lando will tell us in good time, he’s a big boy.”
Lando straightens up and grins, “that’s right.”
Max pushes air out of his nose in a little laugh and Alex whirls in on him. “What about you max, I know u wike someone.”
“Ew.”
“Come on don’t lie, I keep hearing you tell Christian you like someone. He even asked me about it”
Max halts and throws his hands in the air. “He keeps trying to set me up with his niece!”
George raises an eyebrow as Alex slings an arm around his shoulders, Lando has a confused look plastered on his face and Pierre is evidently pressing his lips tight to prevent laughter from escaping.
George is the first to speak, breaking the silence. “if he keeps asking you then you’ll have to prove it to him sooner or later.”
Grumbling, max starts walking again, “Trust me I’ve thought of that.”
The others catch up and Lando pats Max on the back solemnly and grins, “You’ll think of something.”
~NOW~
You’ll think of something.
The Proposal plays in the background, a muted sound.
Lando’s words stick in his head as they mix with Charles’s laughter slipping through the door, short and perfect.
Groggy and tired, a half-formed idea takes place.
His phone crackles a little, “Max? You still there?”
“Christian I told you, I like someone else.”
A drawn out sigh is heard from the other end of the phone call, “We both know that’s a lie Max, why can’t you just give her a chance?”
Taking a deep breath Max steels himself, “I like Charles. Leclerc.”
Silence.
“Christian.”
“Is that - is that why you were so reluctant to tell me who it was?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Alright. Uh alright. Yeah. We’ll talk about this tomorrow yeah?”
“Okay.”
“Okay, Max…”
“Goodnight,” he bids, clicking his screen off and tossing his phone onto the nightstand.
If he falls asleep right away listening to deep laughter from the hotel room across from him, nobody would know.