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“I’m planning to pop the question to Lando this weekend...”
No response. They were in the middle of their fourth round of playing FIFA when Carlos mentioned his plans for his next date night with the young brit. The man beside him had all his attention focused solely on the flashing screen in front of them.
“Charles, I'm talking to you.”
The man huffed in annoyance, throwing his head back dramatically as the spaniard paused their game. Chucking the controller to the side, he turned to face the other man, adjusting himself on the sofa. There was a look of apprehension on Carlos' face and Charles couldn't figure out why. Lando and Carlos had practically been married for almost forever. The two had moved in together, adopted a small puppy they addressed as 'their little munchkin' and talked about one another with the kind of affection an old married couple would share.
"Well, it sure took you long enough"
Carlos scoffed before groaning into his palms, tapping his foot in agitation. The monegasque still couldn't figure out why the other man was that worked up. He had been by Carlos' side through thick and thin but had never seen him in such a state. He was tempted to crack a joke to relieve the tension but something in his mind warned him against it.
be better, Charles. you can be better.
"Carlos. Carlito", he started, shuffling across the sofa, wrapping an arm around the older man's shoulder. "There's no way Lando is gonna turn you down. The kid loves you more than he loves his milk... and we know how much he loves milk." The spaniard sputtered out a laugh at that, leaning into his best friend's embrace.
"That's not what I'm worried about Charles..."
All those jokes for nothing. They were back where they started, the mood, once again, tense. He felt the loss of warmth from Carlos' body as he pulled away to look the monegasque in the eye. His face was expressionless and Charles didn't know what to expect.
Ever since they had met, all those years ago at football camp, there were no secrets between the two. There were no boundaries between them, physical or emotional. It was almost like there was a shared sense of telepathy between them, each understanding the other with little words spoken. This time, it all felt so different.
"Okay.. you know how much you mean to me right?" Charles confusedly nodded. "You're like my brother, and we've always shared all our important life moments..." He eagerly agreed, getting more impatient by the second. "So, I thought about this a lot... If it makes sense or not -"
"OH MY GOD, are you breaking up with me?!", he feigned horror.
The spaniard whacked him across the chest, causing Charles to yelp as he chuckled, "Get to the fucking point Carlos."
With a loud sigh, the older man blurted, "Iwantyoutobemybestman."
Charles was sure it was just a buzz that he heard. He squinted his eyes, letting out a perplexed 'huh?'. Carlos groaned, almost as if repeating his words was causing him a huge amount of embarrassment.
"I want you as my best man... if you'll have me."
He could hear the words, clear as day but remained still. Internally, he was somersaulting. His inner fangirl came to life, a plethora of bachelor party ideas rapidly flashing through his mind. a boys trip! no. golf and dinner. no, no! drink into the night. no... maybe they could do all three?!
Externally, he tried to nonchalantly shrug, "Y-yeah mate.. Seems cool."
But when he saw Carlos' eyes twinkle as he cracked a large smile and launched himself at the monegasque, Charles couldn't help but smile back into the warm embrace. His best friend was getting married! well, if Lando says yes...
Charles had mentally prepared for the sour situation wherein the young brit did reject the spaniard's proposal. Not that it would happen... he hoped. He would need to stash up on the alcohol in his cabinet and get some conventional feel-good movie they can play in the background while Carlos mumbles on about his heartbreak. It was almost scary how well thought-out his plan is.
He'd been there for the older man in the past, distracting him from the pain of a broken heart. So, for the five years, he and Lando were together, Charles was glad to not have to bear any of the spaniard's sadness. The two were nauseatingly adorable and Charles couldn't have been more thrilled for them. His best friend was happy and that made him happy, it was that simple.
"You'll have to give a speech you know.", Carlos chuckled into the monegasque's shoulder.
Charles fell back against the cushions with a lazy smirk and a hazy attempt at a wink, "Can't wait".
_______________________
Lando had shown up that morning, giddier than usual, with donuts and coffee for the dutchman, who was still half asleep. Yet, he had let the younger man inside, wincing at the energy and enthusiasm that was present in his living room.
The man babbled on about a plethora of things, most of which flew over Max's head as he splashed some cold water across his face. He took tiny sips from the takeaway cup of decaf that lay on the counter, the cogs in his brain slowly starting to turn. The brit's voice was a lot clearer now, the words actually comprehensible. Unfortunately, he tuned in to something about Lando 'melting into a puddle', the statement leaving him more confused than before.
He was essentially jolted back into life when Lando dragged him onto the couch in the centre of the living room. His brain finally caught up with him when he noticed the hand that the brit had thrust toward him.
"Woah..."
oh my god. Max was trying his best, to not burst into tears at the sight of the silver piece of metal that lined his best friend's left middle finger. Carlos had finally proposed the previous night and the brit had, expectedly, accepted.
"I'm getting married!!!!!"
His mouth was agape in pleasant surprise and no words came out, but he slowly nodded. His baby blue eyes were fixated on the ring, fingertips delicately holding Lando's hand. When he finally got over the beauty of the jewellery and looked up to see his best friend's face, he slipped into another trance.
The boy was glowing. His smile reached his eyes, which twinkled with joy. In all the years that Max had known him, he was sure he hadn't seen the brit this happy. Even that one time he had got a 'milk carton' birthday cake, which he called "the greatest thing ever", he hadn't looked so joyous. Max couldn't help mirror the smile on his face.
"I'm glad Carlos finally got his shit together.", he joked. "Tell me everything !"
Lando excitedly responded, admiring his hand as he dreamily recounted the events of the previous night. What started off as a normal date night and how it turned into possibly the best day in his still young life.
"We had dinner at his place, take out from the place we went to for our first date," Max remembered the day Lando had come home from that date, down with an unpleasant case of food poisoning.
'Maxy the guy was great; I think I love him.. but the food - fuck', he had gagged before running into the washroom.
Hence there was worry on his face when Lando told him that they might have a similar situation once again. "We didn't eat it though! It was just there.. for sentiment purposes I think."
The confusion on his face continued to grow and Lando realized that.
"Okay long story short, Carlos made me dinner. We drank and talked. In the middle of it, he got up to presumably get down on one knee but stumbled and fell." of course, Carlos was a clumsy mess.
"The ring case popped out and I took it. Cue the emotional speech followed by me squealing and accepting."
Max smiled. The younger man continued about the small proposal set up that Carlos had arranged for in the patio - a shit ton of balloons laid across the floor and candles lit up the area, as a banner reading "MARRY ME?" adorned the wall. They played around with the balloons, danced under the stars, and scurried back into the warmth of the house when it began to rain. Max wasn't the biggest romantic but a small part of his heart melted hearing the brit talk.
"We cuddled by the fireplace, with plenty of happy tears to deal with. Soo after all that, sloppy make-out sessions, and a lot of great sex I'm sitting here talking to you."
Max uncomfortably shuddered at the ending of the brit's explanation. He really could've done without that piece of information. Nevertheless, the rest of the story was cute... kind of. The important thing was Lando was getting married to a guy that he loved and who loved him back. That's all that mattered.
"Dibs on best man!", the dutchman perked up.
Lando blushingly giggled in agreement. "I wouldn't have anyone else."
The two continued their chat whilst munching on donuts as Max cooked them some eggs and toast. Lando went on and on about the preparations that they had to make for the wedding, his tone ranging from excitement to panic. The dutchman only chuckled at the younger man not even attempting to calm him down.
He just moved to set the table, passing the brit a plate with his food. He hoped the younger man wouldn't be able to speak with an omelette stuffed in his mouth. Oh, how was he mistaken.
"Oh, my days, Max. So much to do!" He cut into the fluffy omelette. "Invites..." one bite. "Clothing..." another taste. "The location..." He smeared some jam onto his toast. "The food..." a gulp of his juice. "The music..." a bite into the toast. "The seating arrangement..."
Max was sure he would explode. Carlos had only proposed a day before but here sat Lando, talking about the special day like he had been thinking about it his entire life.
Well, in all honesty, Lando was quite the romantic at heart. His idea of romance was so pure and innocent, the dutchman wished it remained untainted. Max's idea of romance was... well nonexistent. He considered himself a realist, believing concepts like 'love' were more suited to the fairytales and stories children grew up hearing.
For him, an individual not annoying him to death was the low bar set for romance. It seemed easy enough but not many succeeded. Lando had tried to get him to go on dates with some of Carlos' friends, hoping that one day the four of them would be able to double-date, but Max had strictly forbidden him from doing anything of the sorts after that one time the brit had tried and spectacularly failed.
"I cannot believe you thought of setting me up with that entitled, smug french imbecile.", he had fumed, after returning from the disaster of a date, before banging his room door shut.
Lando had just confusedly looked up at Carlos as they were cuddled together on the couch, watching the telly. "Should we tell him that he's monegasque?"
The couple had kept quiet that day and Max had, to date, maintained his annoyance at 'Carlos' french friend'.
He was snapped back to reality when Lando spoke a little louder, extra panic in his voice, "Maxy you've got to help me!!! I think I'm losing it."
Reaching across the table, he linked the brit's fingers with his own, calmingly rubbing his thumb over it. "Hey, I'm your best man. This is literally what I'm here for.", he explained with a reassuring smile.
The younger man took in deep breaths, calming himself down. He had Max. He was going to be alright. He knew the perfectionist that was Max Emilian Verstappen and was sure that the dutchman would take care of everything; performing the duties of 'best man' effortlessly. One big thing was out of the way. There wasn't much to worry about now. And just as he thought that his phone buzzed - hola cariño, you talked to him about Charles yet?
And once again, the burden of dread was plonked onto Lando's delicate shoulders. Fuck.
_______________________
They were waiting at a restaurant for Lando and Max to arrive when Charles had practically scoffed out a laugh as Carlos told him that Max was going to be Lando's best man and that the two were expected to work together for the sake of the couple.
He had met the dutchman once and was certain they would never face each other ever again. Carlos and Lando had done their best to keep them apart from one another. The disdain Max had for the monegasque was apparent to all and the younger man's ability to thrive off annoying the dutchman complicated things further.
He frowned when the spaniard flicked him on the head. He could see the worry and uncertainty on Carlos' face. "Listen, this is important to me and Lando... to Lando more importantly. Try not to fuck it up because of your petty issues with Max?", the older man almost pleaded.
It hurt Charles a teeny-tiny bit that Carlos had to actually tell him that. "Well, it's Max that's holding this grudge against me... but I'll do my best to stay out of his way.", he reasoned. The spaniard let out a relieved sigh, with a weak smile as he shifted around in his chair.
The two sipped their drinks, Charles managing to lighten the mood with one of his trademark stupid jokes. It was when they were on their third round of cocktails that the two men they were waiting for appeared.
Slightly tipsy, Carlos stumbled into Lando's arms, greeting him with a messy kiss. The brit giggled into the kiss, taking a seat next to his boyfriend before he acknowledged Charles. The monegasque just raised his beer bottle towards the man, his lips pressed in a thin line. When his doe brown eyes met the sky blue ones of the dutchman, he cracked a small smile.
"Hello Max, it's been a while"
Max stood motionless; his eyebrow arched. Was Charles trying to take the mick? He was sure that's what was happening and didn't really know how to respond. He opted for a curt nod, before settling himself to the monegasque's left, opposite Lando.
"Right, so hope you both are ready for two months full of exciting wedding planning?!", the brit elated questioned. The lack of a reaction from both the men was noticed by Lando, whose face immediately dropped. Upon getting a kick to the shins, under the table, from Carlos, the monegasque forced a smile as he talked through gritted teeth, "Get me a few more of these beers and I'd be fit to take on the world, not just your wedding."
The youngest man wholeheartedly chuckled and Charles felt a bit better about himself, almost like he had done Carlos proud.
"Yeah, I'll need an endless supply of gin and tonics if I need to work with Charles for the next two months.", added Max, showcasing his very poor attempt at a joke. The table was painfully silent. With every passing second, the dutchman was growing redder and his desire to dissolve into thin air was growing stronger.
It was when Charles laughed out, "You've become funny, Max. Don't worry, the drinks are on me.", the other two men chuckled as well. His voice was dry and the 'ha-has' that he kept inserting in between words were a clear sign of the unwillingness with which the monegasque had spoken the words.
Max's mind refused to let him believe that Charles had just been kind to him. That Charles had bailed him out of an embarrassing social situation. That Charles had done it for non-selfish purposes. Nope, he just would not believe it. Despite the hints of suspicion that clouded his mind, a small part of his heart was grateful.
The four spent the rest of the evening eating and drinking whilst discussing the plans the newly engaged couple had for their wedding. Anyone who watched them wouldn't know how they got any work done in their semi-drunken states but by the time they were ready to leave, both Charles and Max had a slight semblance of what they had signed up for.
It came as a shocker to Charles that being 'best man' wasn't all booze and bachelor parties. It didn't really come as a surprise to Max that the monegasque didn't actually know what he was supposed to do. He wasn't as drunk as the other three and seemed desperate to get the younger man to drop the 'act' that he had been putting on that entire evening. Even whilst buzzed Charles maintained his composure around the dutchman, having to literally bite down on his tongue to stop from making any 'unnecessary comments', as Carlos would call them. Barring a few moments of witty banter, the interactions between him and Max hadn't caused issues. Carlos and Lando were content.
Not being a lightweight like the others, Max was designated driver that night. He drove through the streets of Florence, with Carlos and Lando huddled together in the back seat and Charles riding shotgun. The couple was dropped off at the spaniard's house, where he expected the monegasque to get off as well.
"My house is literally on the way to yours.. Just drop me off there.", the younger man bluntly stated. When Max raised an amused eyebrow at the sudden change in tone, his sight dropped to his lap as he added a quiet 'please'. now, that was more like it.
The car ride was silent and when Max pulled into the monegasque's driveway he noticed Charles dreaming away in the passenger's seat. He looked so at peace and serene, the dutchman hesitated as he shook him awake. With a startle and a few stumbles, a muffled 'thank you', he had sauntered into his home, leaving the older man behind.
They meet again, a couple of days after the night they had all got together. The brit and spaniard were momentarily by their side before leaving the two alone to figure it out.
"I don't think I said a proper thank you for you dropping me home that night...", the monegasque started. Max eyed him, trying to understand what he was playing at. Maybe Charles had genuinely become nice, he thought for one rational second before he shook it out of his head.
"Carlos isn't here. You can stop pretending." Once again, it came out much harsher than he had intended.
The younger man scoffed in disbelief. "Fucking hell Max, I'm trying here okay. I really am... I don't want to screw this up for Carlos but you're making it so goddamn hard."
"I'm not doing this for you or for me. I'm doing it for them... and if you're not gonna help me out here, it's just going to break their heart. Hate me all you want but don't punish Lando for it.. You know how much this means to him."
shit . Max hated when Charles was right. The pettiest part of him was a bit salty over the fact that the monegasque had taken the moral high ground first. Regardless, he knew he had to put their differences aside for the sake of their best friends. With a long, deep sigh he stuck out his hand as a truce, "For Carlos and Lando?"
The tension from the younger man's face eased, forming a small smile, as he completed the handshake. "For Carlos and Lando."
Just for that slight moment, they both felt assured that they could make this work. That they would be alright.
_______________________
"Why are the borders and font white but the cover black?", the monegasque questioned, with the tone of a complaint as they inspected the various invitation cards options that were presented to them at the shop. Currently, he was holding Max's choice.
"I mean black and white are a little dull for a wedding non?"
Max tiredly exhaled. With every passing second, the dutchman was sure Charles was just a pretty face with no substance to back it up.
"It's a wedding invitation, Charles. I don't think the colours really make a difference to the whole theme."
The younger man let out an offended gasp at the dutchman's statement. Frowning, he proceeded to explain the importance of visual aesthetics that a wedding should possess, from the smallest aspects to the more noticeable ones.
of course, he cares this much about how things look.
Nonetheless, Max was impressed. This was the first time Charles had been actively involved in the wedding prep.
"Here, look at this!", the monegasque's voice snapped Max out of his daze. In front of him, lay a piece of paper with designs roughly sketched out and words shabbily scribbled on it.
"We can create our own card.. They accept requests!"
Maybe it was the way Charles' eyes twinkled as he suggested the idea or the actual beauty of the design the younger man had conjured up, Max didn't have it in him to refuse the man. With a subtle nod, he watched the monegasque chat with the attendant, detailing all their requirements. If asked about it, he would deny it, but a proud smile crept onto his face as Charles gave him a triumphant look after getting the job done. They were off to a good start.
The more time they spent together, the simpler it became to get work done. Cars weren't a suitable mode of transport while travelling through the cobbled roads and lanes so the two had to drive around the city in Lando's father's old Vespa. There was something poetic about the two driving through the Italian landscapes in a vintage vehicle, carrying bags of wedding materials.
Oftentimes, the individuals they were dealing with at stores confused them for the couple waiting to tie the knot. It had first occurred when they were at the caterers, helping test out the quality of food for the special day. The two were busy trying out the appetizers, stuffing their faces as the chef explained the intricacies of each dish. Nodding along and letting out sporadic hums of approval, it's like the two were in a delicious world of their own.
"Oh my god, Max you have to try this!", the monegasque distastefully spoke through a full mouth, as he shoved a spoon in the other man's direction. Without a moment's hesitation, Max opened his mouth allowing the younger man to essentially feed him. Eyes shut, he let out an obscene moan at the taste.
oh fuck. They were close enough for Charles to notice the light freckles that highlighted the dutchman's nose and cheeks. how adorable. He could feel his own face flush at the sight in front of him, as Max finally released the spoon from in between his lips after licking it clean, opening his eyes in the process. Maintaining eye contact the entire time was a terrible mistake. He could see the dutchman's eyes flicker down to his lips and he was tempted to plant one of him right there. Subconsciously his body leaned forward before being interrupted by an awkward cough.
"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt... but you may enjoy more of these moments on your honeymoon. May we please finalise the orders?"
As Charles' face reddened further, the older man coughed robustly at the head chef's insinuation. Through awkward laughs, he stammered out a clarification, which had left the man in charge unamused. Realising he didn't really care about their personal lives; they quickly selected the menu for the wedding before walking out with an apology.
Stepping out of the restaurant, they never spoke of it again. Living life as if they didn't want to fuck each other ten minutes ago.
The last time they had been mistaken for the engaged couple was at the florist's. They had ridden up there to place the order for the centrepieces and the other flower decorations. Max had wanted to finish the bookings over the phone but the monegasque had insisted they go to the shop.
"It'll be so much fun to go there. We can see the pretty flowers for ourselves! Pleaseeeeeee Max!!", he had pleaded with those twinkling doe eyes, and the dutchman just couldn't find it in him to refuse.
As Charles explored the tiny shop with excitement, Max just stood by the counter watching. He had left this task to the younger man, trusting him to put together a beautiful creation. After all, beauty was his thing. He observed as the monegasque picked up the pastel shades of tulips, bringing them up to his nose and inspecting them with care. he noticed the frown on Charles' face as he passed by the roses, and watched his face light up again as he neared the calla lilies.
"He has quite a nice eye for flowers.."
The dutchman turned to face a petit, old woman standing behind the counter. She was gently staring at Charles, who continued busying himself with the wonderful collection of flowers, a smile etched onto her face.
"Not many ignore the roses and run straight to the lilies of the valley... What's the occasion?"
"A wedding", he responded with a grin. Her smile widened. Now that he was looking at someone that wasn't Charles, he noticed the small name tag on the woman's worn-out frock - Marta. Beyond her, were a group of two other women with a couple of children sitting in a circle, each holding a string of flowers in their hand. how hadn't he seen this when they had entered?
He continued making conversation with the old lady till Charles arrived, his face as bright as the sun. In the small basket, he had collected a variety of flowers, most of them on the lighter part of the colour spectrum. The dutchman paid attention as the younger man explained the way he wanted each flower to be presented.
There was just this intensity, yet gentleness, in Charles' tone as he conversed with the woman who scribbled the instructions down in her mini notepad. The creases by his eye when he smiled, the way his whole body shook when he laughed, his constant need to keep running his hands through his hair... Max viewed them all with a growing sense of endearment. oh shit.
As they bid the woman goodbye and prepared to leave, the two young kids the dutchman had seen before, reappeared. Tugging at their legs for them to bend down to their height, they each placed a flower crown sort of thing on their heads. The monegasque giggled, giving the girls a short hug as he complimented them. Blushing, they scurried away behind the old woman, who they had learned was their grandmother.
"Ah, lilacs! Young and innocent love... Wish you both all the happiness in the world", she sweetly said, as the two wordlessly gazed at each other. Thanking her once again, they finally left.
Once again, they didn't talk about it.
_______________________
Despite all the progress they had made, there still were times when Max was convinced that everything Charles did was purely out of spite, and he wanted nothing more than to get everything over with. Like that time when they were cake tasting and Charles had smashed his face into the pastries when Max was apparently 'taking too long'.
"Now you've got a little of each flavour on your face, which one tastes best?", he had bluntly probed, as the dutchman tried his best not to explode.
There had been moments where they felt like friends, sometimes crossing that fine line and at others straying so far away in the opposite direction. It's not like they talked or hung out aside from when they were stuck in a room going through wedding magazines or riding the Vespa to various locations that fulfilled various purposes.
Well, that was until Charles had shown up to his house two days before the wedding, uninvited, a bottle of gin in his hand. "I'm assuming you have the tonic water", he had smiled before walking past the helpless dutchman. Every bit of common sense in his body was urging him to politely ask the younger man to leave. Yet, he turned his back and shut the door.
Surprisingly or unsurprisingly, Charles made a mean gin and tonic. They had settled themselves on the living room couch, maintaining the silence as they clinked their glasses and sipped. Max wished he could have conjured up something half as good. The vibrance of the gin was balanced out by the light, bittersweet flavour of the tonic water and the taste was addicting.
They revelled in the awkward silence till the second round of drinks. Max couldn't stand it anymore.
"Why're you here?"
No answer. The younger man continued his workings with the sliced lime and ice. He handed the dutchman his glass once again, leading him out to the hall, lightly plonking himself onto the sofa.
"To get you drunk."
Max eyed him from behind the glass, not looking the least bit convinced. He tipped his head to the side, hoping to somehow intimidate the monegasque. They were on opposite ends of the couch, a respectable distance between the two.
"Even though that's not why you're here, you are still not doing a good job of it.", he pointed out, finishing the remains of his drink in one gulp. fuck, he's never going to do that again.
That caught Charles off guard. He looked amused, an eyebrow raised at the older man's words and actions. With a swing of his own drink, he once again headed towards the kitchen, Max on his tail.
This time when they returned, they moved a bit closer. Unintentionally of course.
"Okay since you won't tell me why you're here, I'll ask you something else." He took a sip of his drink. "How do uh you know so much about flowers?"
Charles tiredly sighed. The ice cubes in his glass rattled as he took a long gulp. Clearing his throat, he spoke, "My uh mum loves gardening." Max's face softened. This was the first time they had talked about their families.
"When I was a child, I would go pick flowers with her.. and she would teach me about each of them.", he recounted with a faint smile. "She'd tell me stories about each flower and what it meant.. At the flower shop the other day, I felt like a child again..."
He hadn't been asked a question but the dutchman nodded his head in acknowledgement. Seeing this side of the younger man was certainly different. They weren't friends, they didn't have drinks together and this situation had left Max confused. A good kind of confused, though.
For the first time, they were getting along. They had realised that if they could sit and communicate like normal human beings, things maybe wouldn't have been so difficult. Right now, everything was good.
"Can I ask you a question now?"
"Fill up my glass and we can continue", he laughed.
They were in the kitchen again, Charles concocting their drinks and Max leaning against the counter, beside him.
"Why were you so mad at me that day?"
His face felt hot, his hands felt clammy and his throat felt dry. He needed his drink or any drink for that matter. The monegasque was measuring the amount of tonic when he asked the question. He'd have to wait.
With a deep exhale, he started, "Well you stood me up. Was I supposed to be celebrating that?" The younger man didn't dare look up at him.
"And yes, before you argue, being two hours late to a date without any warnings, is considered standing me up..."
"I'm sorry", he handed Max his drink.
Both their tipsy selves stumbled back to the couch, now sitting next to each other, knees touching. They drank in quietness.
"I felt like absolute shit that day.. cause I actually liked you. Or the image of you.. what Lando had made you out to be. But then you actually showed up, no apology, no explanation. And I somehow felt worse..."
His voice was shaking as he spoke but he was determined not to cry. He had done enough of that. He could hear the younger man beside him gulp down his drink. Their hands lightly touched by their thighs, his eyes fixated on that. After a few moments of quiet, he heard Charles' rough voice.
"If I could go back to fix that, believe me, I would. I fucked up.. I was a huge dick to you and I'm sorry."
"I'm trying to be better.. not just with you. Carlos told me to sort stuff out with you.. and I hope over these two months I kinda showed you that I don't want you to hate me...", he slurred, dropping his head back as he gaped in the dutchman's direction.
He could feel the intensity of the monegasque's gaze on him and he knew if he looked at him, he'd be a goner. Maybe that's what he wanted as he let his head fall back, turning to face the younger man.
"I don't hate you. Even when you accidentally took my clothes when we trying on our groomsmen suits at the boutique, I was mad at you.. but I didn't hate you.", he assured the man with a chuckle.
Even in the darkroom, Max could see the monegasque's smile. "Thank you, Max"
They stayed like that for a while, staring into each other's eyes. When it got uncomfortable, Max shifted to place his glass on the table, casually grazing the monegasque's thigh in the process. He could swear the younger man shivered at the touch, a small gasp escaping his lips. He was certain, that he wasn't imagining it.
So, he did it again, and this time he had the great honour of watching Charles bite his lip hard to prevent whatever filthy sound that was going to come out of his mouth. Max was kind of glad about that. He was drunk, he didn't really know what he was doing.
Their breaths lightly fanned their faces, the smell of gin numbing their senses. They were so close, one move was all it would take. Liquid courage was already in their system, but neither had it in them to make that crucial move.
When the older man hazily leaned forward, Charles had his eyes shut, in wait. This was their moment. He only felt a pair of lips press against the corner of his mouth, as the dutchman mumbled a 'good night Charles' as he struggled to stand. Ultimately, he managed to stabilise himself, a sly smile playing on his lips, "Y-you can uh use the spare bedroom, I'll umm see you in the morning" before drunkenly sauntering into his room.
He just collapsed back onto the cushions, a playful smile on his face. what a fucking tease.
_______________________
"So, how are the nerves?", loudly asked the monegasque, as he made his way into the spaniard's allocated dressing room. His grand entrance fell flat as he lay his eyes on Carlos collapsed on the bed, face buried in the kingdom of pillows.
"Oh god, Carlito...", he whispered as the bags he was holding slipped from his hands. He rushed to the man's bedside, caressing the spaniard's hair lightly, leaning down to have his mouth near his ear.
"ARE YOU DEAD?!", he screeched.
The poor man, panicked, flipped off the bed, falling to the carpeted floor with a huge thud. Oh, he was just resting. He rose to a sitting position to find Charles cackling on the other side.
"You dick, what the actual fuck was that for?", he questioned, clearly rattled. It took the monegasque a solid minute to stop snickering before he could compose himself enough to answer, "Just wanted to see if you were all there.. I need you to be on the highest alert!"
Carlos just squinted at the younger man, deciding against chastising him that day. It was his wedding day, the day that he had been waiting for from the day he had met his british fiance. There was nothing that could bring him down.
"Whatever, have you got the suit?" Charles nodded. The spaniard looked at him expectedly, "Go on, where is it?"
Scrunching his face, he pointed beyond the older man's shoulder, "The shoes are in the smaller bag..." Lying in a clump was his newly ironed wedding suit. deep breaths Carlos, just a few more hours and this will be over.
He scrambled the bags in his hands as he got to his feet, before strutting off in the direction of the bathroom, not sparing the monegasque a glance. Charles hung his head with a groan. you couldn't do a single thing without fucking up, could you Charles? He patiently waited for the older man to finish his shower before he began to leave so that he could get ready himself.
"AY, you look great! I'll be back in a bit... And uh sorry for ruining the mood"
"Charles..."
He turned around to see Carlos with a loose tie in his hand. The tension in the air was broken with the waves of laughter that followed. Shaking his head, a smile etched across his face, he carefully fitted the tie for the older man.
"You're getting married and still can't tie a tie. Hope Lando knows what he's in for", he chuckled.
On the other side of the hall, Max was doing his best to maintain his calm. It was like it was his wedding day, the jitters keeping him on his toes. He had managed to get Lando ready for the ceremony, leaving him in the room with his parents as they were having an 'emotional moment'.
"Hey whatcha doing here?!"
He shrieked at the voice. It seemed like it was Charles' mission that day was to scare everybody he possibly could. The dutchman was so lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice the monegasque beside him.
"Oh.. hey.. I-I uh was just exploring the place."
The younger man nodded. "You've definitely done an excellent job inspecting the same spot for the past ten minutes... What's wrong?" Max shut his eyes, exhaling tiredly as his shoulder slumped.
They walked into the nearest empty room, the monegasque grabbing a chair for the dutchman.
"I'm rehearsing my best man speech... I've uh never spoken in front of so many people before and I'm scared I'm going to ruin everything if I don't know it properly.."
The stress was evident in his voice and Charles pitied him. Here he was, ruining things left, right and centre with only a feeling of guilt but doing little to change his behaviour. Then there was Max, doing everything perfectly, making everyone happy yet putting so much pressure on himself. He never understood why.
you make me want to be better Max.
Sitting beside him, he softly spoke, "I have been seeing you fret over this speech for the past two weeks. It's not like a script you've to follow. You forget something? Fuck it, just say what you feel... even it's something stupid." Max whined at the advice, ready to retort before he was interrupted again.
"Nothing you do will screw anything up Maxy... Besides, if something goes that wrong, I'll botch up my piano performance. We can be fuck ups together!" That elicited a genuine laugh from the older man.
"I just know you'll do great..." Side hugging the monegasque, head on his shoulders, he grinned as he remembered the first time he had caught the younger man playing the instrument.
They weren't on talking terms, tolerating each other's existence for the sake of their best friends. Max had been searching through the wedding magazines Lando had given him, to get an idea as to what he was supposed to be focusing on. To say he was bored was an understatement. He was halfway to taking a nap when his ears pricked up at an unfamiliar sound. Slow yet mesmerizing.
He followed the tune into the neighbouring room and that's when he saw it. A certain monegasque was sitting at the huge, shining black instrument; a grand piano, coaxing impossibly soothing and amazing melodies from it. He seemed lost as his fingers flew over the keys like swallows darting in a pond for fish. His body swayed to the music, and Max just watched, enamoured.
The second he got a whiff of the dutchman's presence in the room, the music abruptly stopping with a harsh sounding key. He stared at the older man in embarrassment, eyes wide, before muttering a weird apology and running out. Max had remained glued to his spot, severely confused as to what had just happened. But he was convinced that Charles was no longer just a pretty face.
"I don't think I said it that day but you are quite literally talent personified."
_______________________
They were standing at the altar, opposite one another, waiting for the two grooms to arrive. Everything had turned out flawless, from the decorations to the seating arrangements to Charles' performance on the piano. They were almost in tears at how well they had put things together. Rightfully, they were incredibly proud of their comprehensive success project.
As the soon-to-be-wed couple appeared down the aisle, the two were busy exchanging looks. They knew it was wrong, their one last job as best men was to be supportive through the final moments of the wedding. Yet, as the spaniard and brit recited their vows, professing their love in front of their loved ones, Charles and Max were practically eyefucking behind their backs. Literally.
Charles had only seen the dutchman in a suit when they were trying them on at the boutique and that day the fitting had been all over the place. Currently, it fit him just right and the younger man was unabashedly ogling at him from the other side. There was this sense of elegance about him but Charles wanted nothing more than to violate every bit of grace that the older man possessed.
Across the aisle, Max could feel himself getting hot at the look he was receiving from the monegasque. They were subtle but had maximum impact. He tried to look away, to concentrate on the sweet vows that their best mates were reciting, but it seemed an impossible task. With Charles wearing a navy-blue tux to match his dark blue, the dutchman wasn't sure he could keep the unsaid words in any longer.
I just can't believe the way I feel about you; like a river meets the sea, stronger than it's ever been.
They were drawn out of their trance by the sound of applause. The 'I DOs' had been exchanged and they were sharing their first kiss as a married couple. Seeing them leave, Charles hooted and Max cheered as the two walked back down the aisle, hand in hand. Their union was complete.
Staying back, they ushered the handful of guests outdoors to the tables as they waited for the food to be served. In the meanwhile, Max followed by Charles gave their best man speeches, raising a toast to the newly married couple. Fortunately, or not, neither of them messed up, and if they did it's not like anyone would've known.
They evoked a few tears from their friends that had become family and the customary "aww's" and irregular laughter from the audience. They got teary-eyed as well, especially Max who hugged the young brit close as he 'warned' Carlos with the usual protective threats. Charles was a bit more reserved with his tears, cupping the spaniard's face before murmuring something about "wanting all the happiness in the world for you".
After a few more speeches and drinking glasses of champagne, the crowd enjoyed their gourmet meal. The hums of approval or outright compliments they received about the food left them both with a smug look.
"I guess we really do work well together..", Max sat in the chair next to the younger man. Looking back at him with a knowing smile, Charles just giggled.
In a buzzed setting, beside each other, they had found a small patch of noiseless comfort. They quietly observed the people around them, from Lando and Carlos stealing kisses to the spaniard's little cousins that frolicked around, playing with the gardenia centrepieces.
we've come so far since that day and I thought I loved you then.
Charles knew he should say something. About those looks, the absent-minded glances of their hands, just them around one another. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to, before reaching into his coat pocket to pull out a small packet.
The dutchman frowned at the brown envelope as the younger man handed them over to him. "The photos we had taken at the studios that day were developed so uh I thought we could see them together...?" oh .
While they were on the hunt for a wedding photographer, they visited the people Lando had recommended, crossing each individual off the list. This was their final stop and both prayed that this man, one Daniel Ricciardo, would be the answer to all their questions.
The studio was brightly lit as they spoke with the professional, detailing what was expected of him. The man had informed them that he wasn't into wedding photography nor portrait photography, much to their dismay. However, it seemed like they had prayed hard enough as he did indicate he was open to giving it a shot.
Ensuring they didn't get too carried away in their excitement, they asked the man for some work references. The older man had just blankly stared at the two. Had they not listened to a word he said.
"Well, we can just do an impromptu shoot now. You guys can be my models!"
Instantly, they declined. The dilemma of finding a photographer still loomed large over their heads, and with that in mind, the dutchman spoke, "Charles here can model. He's got the looks for it non?"
The younger man glared at him. Daniel was down with the idea, his camera set up ready.
"Wait, then so does Max. He looks great today! Look at the... white shirt and shorts... Uh, what a look!"
The older man had protested, having the monegasque physically drag him in front of the cameras, before finally giving up. How Daniel hadn't lost his patience yet was a miraculous achievement. The two continued to argue until Charles had ultimately smacked the dutchman's head, telling him to behave. As they turned to the camera, an attempt at a genuine smile on the younger man's face and a forced one on Max's, the aussie photographer stepped away.
"Okie, you guys are done here!" wait, what?! when had they even begun? "I think these have come out amazing!"
He had only shown them around four pictures that day. All candids, with two of Max and two of Charles. They had been impressed enough to book him for the vent and there he had been, handing the monegasque an envelope with those and a few more photos from that day.
They were all in black and white. Candids of Charles 'scolding' the older man, a spooky photo of Max taken in the middle of one of his eye rolls and lastly a split-second snap of them looking at each other, expressionless, yet conveying a magnitude of emotions.
"I looked at him as a friend until I realised I loved him.", scribbled at the back.
In their desperation to not be photographed alone, they had opened a can of beans that both had been ignoring for way too long and one, which they planned to continue ignoring till they couldn't anymore. well, wasn't that healthy.
The announcement of Lando and Carlos taking to the middle of the lawn area they were situated in for their first dance gave them a reason to focus on something that was not each other. The two slow danced to some romantic pop song that the brit was obsessed with, holding each other close against the setting sun. Another round of applause echoed by the time they finished, sealing it with another kiss. Now, the other couples in attendance took to the makeshift dance floor as the party had finally begun.
While everyone around them rejoiced, the two awkwardly sat together. Being uncomfortable around each other was not something they were used to, and they hated it. There was tension in the air and they knew it, but neither knew how to break it. That was until the dutchman straight up popped the question.
"Wanna dance?", he held out a hand.
The younger man's eyes flickered from Max's face to his hand. He nodded eagerly, wiping his clammy palms against his suit pants before interlocking their fingers and guiding them to the dance floor. Like it was the ploy of fate, a slow pace song began as they adjusted their hands.
Finally, with Charles' hands around the dutchman's neck and Max's hands firmly placed on the younger man's waist, they gently moved to the melody. Their faces were mere inches apart, features relaxed and soft. As the monegasque twiddles with the ends of Max's hair near his neck, the older man let out a low gasp, tightening his grip. Right, this was getting unbearable.
"We like each other, I think that's pretty well established.", the older man silently spoke, eyeing Charles up in the process.
The monegasque bit his lip and nodded, shyly smiling. Stepping closer, he dropped his forehead against the dutchman's shoulder, inhaling his cologne. Their bodies were pressed together, the moment highlighted by the fairy lights that decked the place. They could hear Carlos hooting in the background, but neither could break away from each other, spellbound.
"Maybe a wedding is too far ahead, but I would definitely want to plan a date with you." This time it was Max's turn to blush.
and isn't it just so lovely to think, that all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?