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Chapter Text

Sebastian loved being on the track; he loved the feeling of the car soaring down straights and around tight corners.

He loved hearing the crowds scream as their favourite team passes the finish line first.

Times like this though he loves more. The bright sun seeping into his skin as he lies on the thick blanket in his garden. A glass of homemade lemonade to his right and his new book to his left.

The two greatest loves of his life frolicking around in the pool causing droplets of water to splash up and onto his warm legs.

“Lew please don’t drown Charlie, Mattia will hit us with a law suit so big we’ll both go bankrupt,” He calls on a laugh, watching his boyfriend’s desperately try to dunk each other under the water.

“The little fucker called me old,” Lewis argues, grinning wildly when he finally manages to knock Charles off his feet and push him below the surface.

“You are old,” Sebastian teases on a mischievous smirk that turns into a grin when Lewis glares in his direction.

Charles laughs and the older man pushes him back under the water.

“Say that again and I’ll drag you in here too,” Lewis warns on a faux glare.

He only smiles angelically in return because Lewis really would force him into the pool and unlike his shirtless boyfriends he’s still fully clothed.

The summer break has been a welcome distraction from the particularly stressful season.

Mercedes are still struggling with their car which has often led Lewis to spend evenings pouring over data trying to figure out what’s going wrong, and not to mention his back pain from their porpoising issues.

Charles is fighting a brutal title battle with both Redbull cars. The internal pressure from the team seems to be getting to the younger man. Even during the break he’s been spending hours on the phone with Mattia, always coming back looking like he’s exhausted. It’s something Sebastian and Lewis have agreed to keep an eye on. They are both fully aware of the searing highs and lows that comes with a championship battle.

Sebastian’s season so far has been, well, pretty good. He’d managed to drag the car into the points most races, always beating out his teammate. The media are praising him rather than dragging his name through the dirt. Still though he can’t enjoy it too much whilst the people he loves more than anything are struggling with their own issues.

He peeks out from under his sunglasses when Lewis drops down on the blanket next to him, resting his arms behind his head. Sebastian’s eyes run down the toned muscles of his stomach and arms. The man might be in his late 30s but he looks like he could be on the runway.

“He has way too much energy. Sometimes I wish he had an off button,” Lewis mumbles, leaning over Sebastian to steal a sip of his lemonade.

“Thief,” Sebastian mutters on a smirk, but not doing anything to stop him. He leans up on his elbows when Lewis has lied back down and watches Charles messing about in the pool. “He’s the one that’s going to keep us young once we retire,”

Lewis opens one eye to squint up at him, “Or he’s going to send us into an early grave,”

Sebastian laughs and lightly smacks his boyfriend on the arm, “You’re the one who went and fell in love with a 24 year old,”

“You fell in love with him first!”

And Sebastian can’t argue with that. As soon as he left Ferrari he’d started sleeping with Charles. The strain of being teammates no longer hanging over their heads and allowing them to enjoy the other properly.

It only took a few months of hooking up in hotel rooms and he fell in love with Charles. Luckily for him Charles felt the same way.

It was a random post-race evening during the 2021 season when they invited Lewis to join them for a threesome. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun, and besides Sebastian always had a crush on the older man.

One night turned into every weekend and then before they all knew what had happened, they were in love.

Sebastian is in love with two drastically different people but he couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

There’s a splash from the pool and he looks over to see Charles pulling himself out and walking towards them.

The younger man stands over them shaking his head and limbs to dry himself off.

“Honestly Charles, use a towel,” Sebastian hisses, wiping the drops of water from his sunglasses and face.

“Can’t be bothered to go and get one,” Charles responds on a grin, throwing himself down between the two men and landing awkwardly.

Lewis grumbles to himself but moves over allowing Charles to spread out between them, his legs resting over Lewis’ and his head on Sebastian’s stomach.

“You’re a menace,” Sebastian mutters fondly, leaning down to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

Charles grins and tilts his head back, spotting the glass of lemonade. He pushes Sebastian’s face away and stretches his arm to grab the glass, slowly sipping it at an awkward angle.

“Have both of you forgotten where the kitchen is? I made that drink for me,”

“It’s tastes better when it’s yours,” Charles replies cheekily.

Sebastian scoffs and uses his finger to tilt the bottom of the glass as Charles is drinking it, causing the remaining liquid to tip onto the younger man’s face.

Charles splutters, quickly sitting up and in turn digging the heel of his foot into Lewis’ thigh.

“Charles!” Lewis snaps, pushing the Monegasque’s foot off and sitting up to glare at him.

“Seb, you dick! It’s all sticky!” Charles moans, gently pushing Sebastian in the chest. “It was his fault! He knocked the lemonade all over me!” Charles accuses.

“You shouldn’t have stolen my drink,” Sebastian smirks.

Lewis rolls his eyes at them, "I thought we were coming out here to relax in the sun,”

“We are,” Sebastian agrees, pushing Charles off him, “Go and wash it off, I don’t want you making me all sticky,”

Charles scowls at him but Sebastian is already picking up his book and trying to find the right page.

Lewis watches the younger man walk off into the house, “Do we pick on him too much?”

The German smirks and lowers his book, "No we pick on him just the right amount. He’s a menace but he knows we love him,”

Lewis grins and lies back down on the blanket closing his eyes and enjoying the peace and quiet that will inevitably end once their boyfriend is back.

Sebastian shuffles down on the blanket and rests his shoulder against Lewis’ on a soft smile.

The man opens his eyes and presses a kiss to the blonde’s lips, “Read to me,”

Sebastian complies on a smile and starts reading the chapter on irreversible damage to the ozone layer out loud. It’s a dreary topic but the sounds of the German’s voice relax Lewis enough he feels his eyes flutter shut.

Sebastian had only been reading for ten minutes when they realise there’s something blocking the sun.

Both men’s eyes flicker upwards, and matching frowns appear on their faces when they see their boyfriend towering over them with a cheeky grin and holding a bucket of water.

“Payback is a bitch,” Charles declares gleefully.

Sebastian throws his book to the side and unsuccessfully tries to grab the younger man’s leg, failing when he steps back slightly.

“Don’t you dare, Charles, I mean it,” He warns in the tone he used to use when they were teammates and the younger man was driving him insane.

Apparently it doesn’t work this time though because Charles tips the bucket directly over both their heads and then sprints back into the house on a laugh, clutching the bucket in his hands.

Lewis and Sebastian sit up on an groan, swearing to themselves and rubbing the cold water off their skin.

“Remember what I was saying about him putting us in an early grave?” Lewis grates, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips.

Sebastian stands up with a smirk, “The only grave we should be worrying about is his. The little bastard,”

Lewis stands up next to him on a grin, “Shall we get our own payback?”

It doesn’t take them long to find their boyfriend who had decided the best place to hide would be in one of the spare bedrooms.

They manhandle him onto the bed and Sebastian is just glad he doesn’t have any neighbours, because the screams of laughter coming from Charles could easily be mistaken for a murder.

_______________________________________________

Sebastian and Lewis share a concerned look when there’s a crash and French curses from the kitchen.

When Charles had declared that he wanted to make them both dinner, they’d immediately shut the idea down.

Charles Leclerc is many things but one thing he isn’t is a good cook. No matter how simple the dish was Charles finds a way to either burn it to the point their smoke alarm starts blaring, or undercook it to the point they all get food poisoning.

Both Lewis and Sebastian had tried to teach their younger boyfriend to cook a few basic dishes, but when it always ended in Charles throwing a fit and accusing them of treating him like a child, they stopped.

It didn’t matter to either of the older men who cooked anyway. Sebastian and Lewis both enjoyed cooking and it meant they got to try out new vegan dishes.

So when Charles expressed his desire to cook them dinner, they’d tried to convince him that they’d rather him just relax and focus on the rest of the season.

The attempts hadn’t worked though and so after helping Charles find a simple vegan chilli recipe, he’d rushed off to the kitchen to start preparing it.

“I’m going to see if he needs any help,” Lewis blurts, when there’s another loud bang from the kitchen.

Sebastian reaches across the sofa to rest an arm on the older man's leg, “Don’t, you know he’ll just start moaning about how we don’t think he can do anything,”

Lewis nods his head on a resigned sigh and leans back into Sebastian’s arms.

The clashing and swearing from the other room only gets louder though and Sebastian can’t help but worry about the state of his kitchen.

“Charlie,” He yells, tipping his head back against the sofa and waiting for the kitchen door to swing open.

It does and a very stressed looking Monegasque pokes his head out of the door, tomato sauce smeared down his cheek.

“Yeah?” Charles queries, quickly shutting the door behind him but it was pointless because Sebastian had already seen the smoke drifting in the kitchen.

He shuffles around on the sofa and narrows his eyes on the younger man, "Have you turned off the smoke alarm?”

“No,” Charles answers quickly. Lewis snorts in amusement and Sebastian rolls his eyes. Charles had never been a good liar.

“How’s it going? Are you sure don’t want some help?”

The younger man glares at him, “Don’t do that, Seb! Don’t treat me like a child! I can cook one stupid dinner on my own!”

It’s an issue that comes up a lot in their relationship; Charles accusing Lewis and Sebastian of treating him like a child.

It’s not even something that they mean to do but them both being at least a decade older than Charles means they are a lot more mature and arguably know a lot more.

Lewis turns around on the sofa and smiles softly at their boyfriend, “We are just asking if you need any help, Charlie. Do you?”

“No, I’ve got everything under control,” Charles murmurs, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’ll be ready soon,”

He rushes back into the kitchen, shutting the door quickly again when smoke starts to escape.

“Turn the smoke alarm back on, Charles! I’m not dying in a house fire because you were too proud to admit you burned something!” Sebastian yells, making Lewis laugh out loud next to him.

“You know we are going to have to eat it no matter how horrible it tastes, he’ll just sulk all night if we don’t,” Lewis drawls, turning off the documentary they’d been watching.

“I was watching that,” Sebastian complains, wrestling with Lewis’ hand to try and retrieve the remote.

Lewis pulls it back on a smirk and lets out a squeak when the German lands on top of him, struggling to grab the remote.

“Lewis, I’m serious I was watching it,” He snaps, pinning the older man’s hand holding the remote up and prying his fingers away.

Lewis pokes two fingers into the man’s side and Sebastian smirks down at him, “You know that only works on Charles,”

The Brit huffs in annoyance when Sebastian sits back with his reclaimed remote and flicks back to his documentary on The Beatles.

“It’s boring man, you weren’t even alive when they were around,”

Sebastian arches an eyebrow at him, “So? I can still appreciate their music. It’s better than that stuff you listen to,”

“I don’t know what your issue with Kanye West is. Charles likes his stuff,”

“Charles is also barely in his mid twenties, that should say it all,”

Lewis scoffs and smacks him in the arm, “Dick,”

Sebastian catches his wrist and pulls him into a kiss on a grin, “I love you despite your music taste,”

“Yeah the same to you,” The Brit mumbles, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss, whilst sneakily trying to grab the remote back.

Sebastian feels him reach for it and pulls away on a smirk, “Nice try,”

They wrestle around on the sofa again until Charles walks in from the dining room and looks down at them with a smirk, “You two are children. Dinners ready,”

“Shut it, you menace,” Sebastian quips, turning the TV off and standing up to ruffle the younger man’s hair.

Charles bats his hand away, and grabs Lewis’ to pull him up off the sofa, “Come on, I’ve added some extra spices in the chilli. It’s going to be better than either of yours,”

The older men share an apprehensive look at the idea of Charles doing anything but following the recipe word to word, but trail after him regardless.

“So, what do you think?” Charles asks eagerly looking between his boyfriends once they’ve sat down at the table and he’s convinced them to try it first.

Lewis chews his mouthful slowly, desperately trying to keep it in his mouth. “It’s really nice, Charlie. When you said you added some extra spices what did you mean?”

Sebastian forcefully swallows his mouthful and hides his smile behind his hand as he looks at the older man struggling to gulp down the chilli.

Charles shrugs his shoulders and takes a sip of his water, “I just added some other stuff Seb had in his spice rack, and I put some more salt in it,”

“Oh yeah you can definitely taste the salt,” Sebastian comments on a smirk, dragging his fork around the bowl to try and inspect what else the younger man had added.

Charles narrows his eyes on him and folds his arms across his chest, "You hate it,”

Sebastian’s eyes widen and he reaches his hand out to grasp the man’s own, “I don’t. It’s just got a lot of flavour. It’s really good for your first try,”

Charles pulls his hand away on a glare and takes a tentative bite of his own food.

Lewis and Sebastian grin when Charles scrunches his nose and swallows the mouthful.

None of them say anything as they look down at their bowls of what some might describe as chilli.

“Let’s just order from that Indian restaurant down the road,” Charles mumbles, resting his head on his bent arm.

“At least you’re pretty,” Sebastian jokes.

“And an extremely talented driver,” Lewis adds.

Charles looks between them on a scowl, "Fuck off,” He hisses, before they all burst out laughing.

_______________________________________________

Lewis looks between the brooding men on a sigh. Sebastian is dragging his fork around the bowl of vegan pasta and Charles hasn’t even looked at his food, instead choosing to glare down at his phone.

When his engineer had told him that the red flag was due to a crash between Sebastian and Charles, his heart stopped.

Images of Jules and Anthoine flashing through his mind as he desperately shouted through the radio asking for an update.

The rain had been hammering down on the track and most drivers had been pleading over the radio for it to be stopped.

Lewis’ heart finally felt like it started beating again when he rounded the corner on the way to the pit lane and saw both his boyfriends out of the car and seemingly okay.

He didn’t miss their body language though and it was obvious both were absolutely fuming.

“You two are going to have to talk at some point,” Lewis comments dryly. The two men had engaged in a shouting match in Lewis’ drivers room after the race - spitting heated insults at each other - but haven’t said a word since. 

He had to actually drag Charles onto the plane with them to go back to Switzerland following the race. The younger man outright refusing to be in the same space as Sebastian. 

The flight had been tense and Lewis felt like a referee sat between them watching them shoot glares at the other.

“I’ll talk to him when he apologises,” Charles spits, and Lewis already knows where this is going. 

Sebastian scoffs in annoyance and drops his fork on the table, “Apologise? The only thing I can apologise for is not teaching you better when we were teammates,” He snaps, “I’m sorry that I assumed you’d learnt your lesson after the first two times you crashed into me,” 

“Seb, come on,” Lewis interjects on a frown, “Don’t go bringing up the past,” 

Charles shoots dark eyes across the table at his boyfriend, “You’ve ruined my fucking chance at the championship! All because you were so desperate to get your shit car on the podium!” 

“Charlie, you still have a shot at the championship. The season is nowhere near done yet. I’ve seen crazier things,” Lewis soothes, reaching a hand across the table and grasping the younger man’s hand. Charles looks down at their entwined hands and glares, pulling his hand free. “Don’t Lewis, I know you blame me too,” 

“Of course he blames you! Everyone could see that it was your fault! You tried a ridiculous move and it backfired! You’re reckless, Charles. You always have been!”

Lewis scowls at Sebastian. He’d hoped having a nice dinner together would calm the atmosphere but it seems to only have made things worse. 

He won’t admit it to Charles because he’s pretty sure the Ferrari driver would lose his head but from what he can tell the crash was his fault. Charles has had a sequence of bad races though and he doesn’t want to make things worse. 

The Ferrari driver had driven an excellent race making it up from tenth due to his penalty and ending up fighting Sebastian for the P3 position. That was until he tried to overtake without leaving enough space, resulting in them both clipping each other and spinning off the track.

“The stewards didn’t seem to think it was my fault!” Charles argues and Lewis doesn’t point out that they haven’t put any blame on Sebastian either. 

“Knowing Mattia he probably payed the FIA off. Anything for the Ferrari Prince,” Sebastian mutters sharply.

Charles shoots up off his chair and Lewis has to jump up too, placing an arm over his chest in warning, “Don’t, Charles. Sit down,” 

Sebastian stands up too, a smirk plastered on his face and daring eyes. Lewis flicks his head to the German, “Seb, man, you are better than this. Can’t we just move past this?” He pleads. 

Sebastian ignores him, his eyes not leaving the younger man’s, “What are you going to do to Charles? Are you going to hit me? Will that make you feel better about screwing up our races?” 

Charles pushes against Lewis’ arm, but the oldest man rearranges his hold on his boyfriend, gripping his shoulder to keep him in place. 

“You did it on purpose! You never got to win a championship with Ferrari and so you don’t want me to get one! Admit it!” Charles accuses, his eyes morphing into slits when the German bursts out a bitter laugh.

Sebastian shakes his head on a roll of the eyes, “Honestly Charles,” He starts his voice becoming quieter and condescending, “I’d love for you to win a championship with Ferrari but if today is anything to go by you’re just not ready. You’ve still got a lot to learn, kiddo,” 

The patronising pet name is enough for Lewis to know he’s fighting a losing battle. He wonders if he should have just let Charles go back to Monaco so that both his boyfriends could have processed the race themselves before taking it out on each other. 

Charles pushes past Lewis with a steely determination, and shoves his hands into the blonde’s chest. Sebastian is obviously expecting it though because he doesn’t stumble and instead grips the younger man’s wrists, staring him down. 

Lewis pushes them apart, resting a firm hand on each of their chests. His eyes flick between the two men and he frowns, “I know you’re both angry but we always promised each other that we wouldn’t let racing affect our relationship. You two love each other and I don’t want this to come between you or for me to end up in the middle of it all,” 

Sebastian’s face softens and Lewis can feel him relax against his hand, “I’m sorry Lew, this isn’t fair on you,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to the older man’s cheek, “Charlie, we’ll talk about this tomorrow when we are in a better head space. Let’s just have our dinner and then watch a film,” 

Lewis breathes a sigh of relief. Sebastian isn’t the same man he was 10 years ago. He’s more mature now and Lewis has never been so thankful. 

They both watch Charles hesitantly waiting for his reaction, and the flicker of pure insolence in his eyes suggests it’s not going to be a very good one. 

“Fuck you, Seb,” He hisses, “I don’t even want to look at you right now,” 

The Monegasque stalks out of the room, leaving his phone on the table and they hear the front door slam. 

Sebastian shrugs his shoulders as if he wasn’t expecting anything other than that reaction, “I tried. I’m not going to fall over and beg him forgiveness when I’m not at fault,” 

Lewis pinches his nose and glances at the abandoned phone, “He’s not even taken his phone. What if something happens to him? We have no idea where he’s gone,” 

Sebastian wraps his arms around the older man and presses a chaste kiss to his neck, “He’ll be fine. I know he acts like a child sometimes but he’s not and he can look after himself. He’ll be back in an hour,” 

Lewis pulls back with worried eyes, “If you say so,” He relents, resting their foreheads together, “I shouldn’t have made him come back here. I thought it’d be better for you two to clear the air but I think you both needed some space,” 

The German shakes his head on a soft smile, “You did the right thing. I want him here. He might be a menace but I love him even if he did ruin my best race of the season,” 

“You really were amazing man, I can’t believe you were about to drag that tractor up to the podium,” 

Sebastian steps back with an arched eyebrow, “You agree it was Charles’ fault right?” 

Lewis rolls his eyes fondly and pokes the man in the stomach, “I’m not taking sides, Seb,” 

Sebastian grins and claps his hands together, “That is basically you agreeing then,” He quips, pushing their lips together. 

Lewis opens his mouth to deepen the kiss before pulling back on narrowed eyes, “Don’t you dare say anything to Charles,” 

The German only laughs and pulls the older man’s mouth back to his. 

Two hours later they’re sitting on the sofa cuddled together and pretending to watch a shitty film, both casting the occasional worried glance at the rain outside. 

“Where the fuck is he?” Sebastian mutters, looking out of the window again and only seeing his car. The sun has set now and the temperature has dropped. 

Lewis casts his gaze over to the front door, hoping the young man will burst through with a dimpled grin. 

The anger that Sebastian was vibrating with earlier seems to have vanished and has been replaced with dread at the thought of their boyfriend out in the rain, cold and heartbroken. 

“I bet he’s got lost, you know how clueless he is when it comes to directions,” Sebastian murmurs, “I should go out and look for him,” 

Lewis stands pulling his boyfriend up with him by the hand, “We’ll both go,” 

They pull on their coats and pile into Sebastian’s pick up truck, agreeing that they’ll drive down to the lake first. 

Charles had always said it was his favourite part of Switzerland and the only thing that could ever persuade him to move out of Monaco. 

As soon as they reach the lake they spot a dark figure kneeling down on the grass at the lake side.

“Fucking hell, man,” Lewis breathes, pulling up his hood and swinging the door open to run over to his drenched boyfriend. Sebastian chases after him, not even bothering to shut the car doors.

“Oh Charlie,” Lewis purrs, dropping down next to the younger man and pulling the sniffling boy into his arms, “Charlie, sweetheart, it’s okay,”

Sebastian kneels down next them, caressing the younger man’s cheek, and using his thumb to wipe away the falling tears. “Let’s go home, Charles,” 

A sob escapes Charles’ mouth and he drags in a shaky breath, “I’m a fucking failure. All I do is fuck everything up. They must be so disappointed in me,” 

Lewis’ heart breaks at the ragged words. He doesn’t need to ask who they is. Everyone knows the ghosts Charles carries with him everyday. 

He tightens his arms on the boy, resting his cheek on wet hair, “Don’t talk like that, sweetheart. They will be so proud of you. We are so proud of you. You’re not a failure, your team is failing you. You’re doing everything right,” 

“Bullshit,” He spits, scrubbing at the tears on his cheeks, only for them to be wet again by rain drops, “You were right Seb, I’m not ready to be a champion. I’ll never be ready,” 

Sebastian sighs and pulls Charles so he’s resting between them, both of them wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders. “I didn’t mean that, Charlie. I was just angry. You’re ready to be a champion. It’s Ferrari that aren’t. You’re strong, fearless and amazing. You inspire me everyday,” 

The Monegasque pushes his face into Sebastian’s chest, his body trembling from a mix of tears and the cold, “I don’t think I can do this anymore. Every time I feel like something is going my way it doesn’t,” 

Lewis can’t help but worry what this must look like if someone walks by. Three race drivers cuddled up beside a lake in the dark and under the heavy rain. One of them balling their eyes out and the other two not far behind. 

“Let’s go home and talk, Charlie. It’s freezing out here and you’ve probably already caught a cold,” He declares, standing up and waiting for Sebastian to do the same before they lean down and gather their boyfriend between them, leading him to the car. 

Sebastian drives them back to the house, shooting concerned looks at Lewis in the backseat as he holds the crying boy in his arms. 

As soon as they make it through the front door, Sebastian tells Charles to take his wet clothes off, eventually deciding to do it himself when the boy makes no effort to move. 

Charles doesn’t react when the German pulls off his sweatpants, shoes, and socks. The tears are still falling and he lets out a cry when Sebastian tries to pull him away from Lewis so he can remove his thin t-shirt. 

“Please, Charles, I need to get you out of these clothes,” He begs, looking to the older man for help. Lewis gently pries the boy off him enough to allow Sebastian to remove his top. 

Sebastian runs up the stairs ahead of them to turn on the shower and heat it up. Lewis leads Charles up to the bathroom letting the boy cling onto him so tightly he can feel his nails digging into his skin. 

The two older men quickly strip off their clothes and Lewis pulls off Charles’ boxers, before guiding him into the large shower cubicle. 

Charles collapses to the floor, his back up against the tiles and his head dropping forward to his bent knees. 

Lewis has never seen his boyfriend like this before. After Monaco the younger man was devastated but it was nothing compared to this. The look of pure fear on Sebastian’s face implies he’s never seen him this way either. 

Lewis sits down on the floor next to him and pulls Charles into his lap so that they’re under the warm spray of the shower. 

“Charles, please talk to us. We love you and it’s breaking our hearts seeing you like this,” 

The brunette looks up at him in anguish, “You shouldn’t love me. You two don’t need me. I’m nothing compared to you. You’re world champions and I’m just a failure,” 

Sebastian crouches down beside them with teary eyes looking just as out of his depth as Lewis is feeling. 

Lewis cards a hand through the the younger man’s hair, “I don’t love Seb because he’s a world champion, Charlie. I love him because he’s him and I love you because you’re you. You could be a fucking waiter and I’d still love you. You’re our sunshine. You brighten the darkest days with your smile. You help us keep hold of our youth. We need you, sweetheart,” 

He looks down at Charles and searches for any sign that the words have sunk in. A sign that their gorgeous boy remembers what he means to them. 

“You’d be better off without me,” Charles utters between tears, “Everyone would,” 

The heartbreaking statement is enough to force the tears Lewis has been desperately trying to hold. They drop onto Charles’ hair mixing in with the stream from the shower. 

“Stop it, Charles,” Sebastian snaps, causing both Lewis and Charles to jolt in shock at the outburst. The German grips Charles’ chin between his fingers and roughly turns his face so they’re looking at each other, “Don’t you fucking dare talk about yourself that way. You’re the most important person in our lives and we wouldn’t survive without you. Your family wouldn’t. All of your friends wouldn’t and you’ve got more than anyone I know. People love you, Charles, and if I could burn Ferrari to the ground for what they’re doing to you I would,” 

Charles sniffles and Lewis can feel the world brighten when a smirk tugs at the younger man’s lips, “I don’t think Mattia would be very impressed if you did that,” He mumbles.

Sebastian scoffs on a watery grin, stroking his thumb across the boy’s cheek, “I don’t give a fuck. I’d do anything to protect you,” He looks at the oldest man on a soft smile, “Lewis would too. You know that right?” 

Charles let’s out a breathy laugh and nods, “I know,” 

“Good, and don’t you ever dare forget it. I will not be impressed if we have to traipse down to the lake in the pouring rain again to search for you,” 

Lewis smiles at the warmth in Sebastian’s tone and hugs the boy tighter, glad to just see a semblance of a smile on his face again. 

“I’m sorry,” Charles utters, looking between them ashamedly. 

Lewis shakes his head vehemently, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Charlie. We will always be here for you, no matter what,” 

Sebastian let’s out a groan and wiggles his back against the wall, “Can we stand up now and actually wash ourselves? Lewis and I aren’t as young as you and if this is killing my back, I can’t imagine his is much better,” 

Lewis scoffs and shoves the German in the shoulder knocking him off balance. Sebastian falls back into the corner of the cubicle on a grin. 

“Maybe you should get one of those seats in here, you know that old people have in their showers,” 

Sebastian arches an eyebrow at Lewis, “Are we going to let him get away with that?” 

Lewis grins, “Not a chance, man,” 

Charles attempts to stand up and sprint out of the cubicle but the two older men yank him back down between them and dig their fingers into all the places they know will make the younger man fall apart in giggles. 

Lewis looks over the squirming, giggling mess between them, and smiles at Sebastian. 

Sebastian smiles back and the unspoken thankfulness that their beautiful boyfriend is okay again falls between them. They know that this isn’t the end of the trouble Charles will have, it’ll only get harder as the season progresses, but together they can get through anything. 

The teasing turns to kisses and the three of them melt into each other’s mouths, clinging onto what often feels like the only people keeping them afloat. 

After Sebastian moans about his back again they wash and dry themselves, before falling into the large bed.

Charles snuggles between them, his eyes slowly blinking shut as the exhaustion of the day hits him. 

“Seb,” He murmurs sleepily, his head resting on the German’s chest, “I still think the crash was your fault,” 

Sebastian stares down at him, and for a second Lewis worries that they’re going to start arguing again, then he snorts in amusement, ruffling Charles’ dark hair, “I’m sure you do, Charlie. We’ll agree to disagree on that one I think. Just like Brazil,” 

“Brazil was your -“ Charles starts to argue but Lewis clamps a hand over his mouth on an amused smile, “Go to sleep, Charlie,” 

Charles smirks and snuggles down further into the bed, his head on Sebastian’s chest and his back pressing into Lewis’ front. A whispered “love you both,” before the telltale heavy breathing escapes his mouth that means he’s asleep. 

Lewis looks down at him on a frown and presses a soft kiss to the back of his head, “I had no idea that he was struggling so much. We need to keep an eye on him. I don’t think my heart will survive a repeat of tonight,” 

“I should never have let him leave when he was in that state at dinner,” Sebastian mumbles regretfully, and Lewis reaches a hand across the boy between them to cup the blonde’s cheek. 

“We had no idea that it was going to get as bad as it did. It doesn’t matter now anyway, he’s right here and we’ll never let him get like that again,” 

Sebastian nods solemnly and turns his face to press a kiss to Lewis’ palm, “I love you, Lew,” 

“I love you too, Seb,” 

_______________________________________________

As soon as Lewis hears the bathroom door click shut he turns to Charles who is scrolling on his phone, an arm tucked behind his head. 

“I’m going to meet the guy selling the XR750 today. I’ll be gone a few hours and so you need to keep Seb distracted, okay Charlie?” 

Charles’ eyes widen and he drops his phone on his bare chest, “I can’t do that! He’ll see right through me, he always does! Why can’t I go and pick up the bike?” 

Lewis strokes a finger down his boyfriend’s side, smirking at the shiver it elicits, “Because the guy is expecting me, I’ve been arranging it. He’ll be confused if some bright eyed kid turns up,” 

“Don’t call me a kid,” Charles bites, rolling onto his side and nibbling the older man’s neck. Lewis let’s out a moan but pushes him back on a smirk, “Stop distracting me. I know you’re not a kid but you look young and I’ve spoken to this guy already. It’s really important I collect it today,”

Charles sighs and rolls onto his back again, grabbing his phone from where it had fallen next to him. 

Tomorrow is Sebastian’s 35th birthday and they’d been racking their brains for what to get him for months. The German had been no help whatsoever, always assuring them all he wants is to spend the day with them. 

It was during a press conference that Sebastian had answered the one motorbike he’d always wanted but never been able to get his hands on was the Harley Davidson - XR750. Charles who had been seated a few chairs down from him made a mental note to tell Lewis. 

Lewis was thrilled that they’d finally found something they could get their boyfriend that he actually wanted, and he’d scoured the internet for days trying to find someone selling one. 

They hear the shower turn off after only five minutes. Sebastian always had quick showers and encouraged both his boyfriend’s to do the same for environmental reasons. 

“I’m going to tell him that I’ve got a sponsor event to attend. Do not ruin the surprise Charles,” Lewis hisses and Charles smacks him in the arm on an affronted look.

“I won’t! I can keep it a secret for one more day! I’ve kept it this long!”

Lewis levels him with a pointed stare, “Only because I’ve been around to make sure you’re keeping your mouth shut. Seb’s smart, don’t let him trick you into telling him,” 

“Lew, I will definitely be able to keep it a secret. I’m not that stupid,” 

“You’re not stupid at all, Charlie,” Lewis promises, pulling the younger man into his side and pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Why are you calling yourself stupid again, Charlie? What did we tell you about calling yourself that?” Sebastian asks walking back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

Charles flicks panicked eyes to Lewis and the older man glares back, already regretting the plan of leaving the younger man alone with Sebastian because he’s so fucking bad at keeping secrets. 

Sebastian turns back around from the drawers where he’s pulling out a t-shirt and eyes them both suspiciously when neither of them reply, “What were you two talking about?” 

Charles’ eyes drop to the mattress and Lewis pinches his leg under the cover, making the boy yelp. 

“We were just talking about the race the other day,” Charles babbles, “And about how I’m stupid for losing the rear around the last corner,” 

The German pulls on his jeans and leans back against the drawers with crossed arms and narrowed eyes, “You won at Silverstone, and I don’t remember you ever losing the rear. You drove a brilliant race,” 

Charles feels his cheeks flush and he flicks cautious eyes to Lewis who is looking everywhere but his direction, “No, well - um - you were quite a bit behind me. You wouldn’t have seen it,” 

“What were you really talking about?” 

Lewis shakes his head on a smile, “We were talking about Silverstone, Seb. Why are you being so weird, man?”

Sebastian looks at him in disbelief then focuses his attention on the youngest man, “Charlie, look at me,” 

Charles keeps his gaze on his phone but can feel both men’s eyes on him. Sebastian has always been able to read him too easily. It’s a blessing and a curse. 

“Charles,” Sebastian warns, dawdling over to them on a smirk. 

The Monegasque jumps out of the bed and rushes past his boyfriend, dodging the hands that shoot out to grab him by the waist. “I’m having a shower,” He calls behind his back, locking himself in the bathroom. 

Lewis keeps a straight face as Sebastian gawks at him, “I know you two are planning something,” He drawls. 

The oldest man shrugs his shoulders on an arched eyebrow, “I have no idea what you’re going on about, Seb,” He replies evenly, “By the way I’ve got a sponsor event to attend today. Can I take the truck? It’s only a couple of hours away,” 

“What’s the event?” 

“Just some photoshoot for Tommy Hilfiger. George will be there too,” He lies on a smile. 

Sebastian looks at him sceptically, “In Switzerland?” 

Lewis hums in agreement and the blonde leans over the bed, holding himself up with his hands against the mattress. Their lips meet and Lewis wraps a hand around the man’s nape, pulling him closer, “I might not be able to get it out of you but I will be able to get it out of Charles - he’s never been able to lie to me,” Sebastian mumbles against his lips, biting down gently. 

Lewis pulls back on a roll of the eyes, “Still have no idea what you’re talking about. Can I take the truck or not?” 

Sebastian presses one final chaste kiss against the older man’s lips before standing back up, “Yeah that’s fine. Are you going to be back for dinner?” 

“Definitely. I’ll cook tonight. I’m going to leave in about half an hour so I’ll be back before 5pm,” 

The bathroom door opens and Charles walks out with wet hair and hesitant eyes. Lewis shoots him a warning look and Sebastian smirks. 

“Just me and you today, Charlie. Apparently Lew has a sponsor event. What do you want to do?” 

“Oh yeah? The Puma one right? I remember you talking about it the other day,” Charles utters, smiling at Lewis and feeling awfully proud of himself for keeping up the lie. 

Sebastian snorts in amusement. 

“No, the Tommy Hilfiger one,” Lewis grates, narrowing his eyes on his boyfriend. 

Charles’ eyes widen and he grabs some of his clothes out of the drawer Sebastian cleared for him months ago, “Oh yeah - yeah - sorry, I remember now. Anyway I’m going for a run,” He proclaims, running out of the room holding his clothes and with the towel slipping down his slim waist. 

Sebastian watches him run out on a grin and turns back to Lewis, “I’m going to have fun with this,” 

Lewis gives him an unamused look and pushes pass him to use the bathroom. 

By the time he’s showered and dressed, Charles is walking back up the stairs to change out of his running gear. 

He crowds the younger man against the wall, “Where’s Seb?” 

“He’s downstairs reading the newspaper. I managed to sneak by him without any questions,” 

Lewis sighs in relief, “Good. You’re going to come with me to get the bike. Seb’s on a mission to find out what we are planning and he’ll get it out of you if you’re alone with him,” 

Charles arches an eyebrow at him, “That will just make him more suspicious, no? He won’t be able to get me to tell him. I can lie for one more day,” 

Lewis repeatedly prods his boyfriend in the side and the younger man squirms and pushes him off on a glare, “Oh yeah there’s no way he’ll be able to get it out of you,” Lewis replies, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Get changed, we are leaving in 10 minutes,” 

Charles huffs a breath in annoyance but wanders off into the bedroom and Lewis heads downstairs. 

“Charles is going to come with me,” He informs his boyfriend’s back. 

Sebastian turns around on the chair and lowers his newspaper, “And why would Charles, a Ferrari driver, need to go to a Mercedes photo shoot?”

Lewis pours himself a cup of fresh coffee and takes a seat next to him, “He wants to see George. You know how close they all are,” 

“Maybe I can come,” Sebastian suggests, resting his chin on his bent arm and eyeing the older man. 

“Yeah man, you’re more than welcome. It’s going to be pretty boring though, not really your thing,” 

Sebastian hums thoughtfully but they’re interrupted by Charles pounding down the stairs, “I’m ready,” 

Lewis downs the rest of his coffee - grimacing when the hot liquid burns his throat - and gets up from the table. He leans over to press a kiss to the German’s lips, “We’ll be back in a few hours, love you,” 

“Love you too,” Sebastian mumbles once the man has pulled away and is wrapping an arm around their boyfriend. 

Sebastian eyes Charles, silently assessing him. The youngest man withers under his gaze and looks away, “Love you Seb, bye,” He calls over his shoulder as Lewis drags him out of the front door, grabbing the car keys on the way. 

“That was a close call,” Charles laughs as they slide into the truck. 

Lewis turns to him on narrowed eyes, “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever known. When you eventually retire I hope you know there’s no future for you in acting,” 

Charles scoffs and slaps him on the arm, “Hey! I was in the new Disney film remember,” 

“You had one line and it’s an animation,” Lewis deadpans, starting up the truck. 

Charles huffs and leans back in the seat, “I’m not that bad,” 

Lewis turns to him on a grin and squeezes his knee, “You are but it’s okay. As your boyfriend it’s actually quite reassuring that you can’t lie,” 

Lewis instructs the younger man to put the address for the seller into his phone. They take advantage of not having Sebastian in the car with them and listen to Kanye West for most of the journey. 

The drive takes them about three hours in the end because much to Lewis’ annoyance they have to stop at several gas stations so Charles can use the toilet. 

They bicker about Charles having the bladder of a child and their favourite Jay Z song before pulling up in front of the large house. 

“Stay here,” Lewis instructs, ignoring the look of indignation on the boy’s face and pressing a kiss to his cheek, before climbing out of the truck. 

The seller is a nice guy and Lewis transfers him the money once he sees the bike is in pristine condition and he’s had a test drive down the road. He grins at Charles as he steps off the bike and sees the look of jealousy on his face through the front window. 

It takes all three of them to lift the bike into the back of the pick up truck. Lewis grabs the blanket they take for picnics out of the back seat and covers the bike with it. 

He’s about to start the car up when Charles’ phone starts blaring the generic IPhone ringtone. The younger man pulls it out of his pocket and his eyes widen when he sees who’s calling. 

“It’s Seb,” He panics, looking at Lewis. 

“Answer it and put it on speaker,” 

“Hey Seb, everything okay?” Charles asks, holding the phone near his mouth. 

“Charlie, how’s it going at the photo shoot? Are you bored out of your mind yet?” 

Charles forces a laugh and it sounds so unnatural that Lewis shoots him a look. “No it’s not too bad. I’m just waiting with George for Lewis to be done then we’re coming back,” 

“Perfect. I need to talk to George about something FIA related. Can you pass the phone to him?” 

Charles can hear Sebastian’s smirk through the phone. 

“Um - yeah - yeah - course, let me put him on,” He stutters as Lewis is mouthing what the fuck are you doing at him.

He waves the phone around in the air, his arms flailing in panic. 

“Charlie?” Sebastian questions, and Charles repeatedly smacks his head against the window. 

“Sorry Seb, George isn’t here,” He babbles. 

“I thought you were standing with him?” 

Charles clears his throat and he’s glad that Sebastian can’t see him because he knows his face is the same colour as his Ferrari shirt. 

“I thought it was George next to me but it wasn’t, it’s a photographer,” 

Lewis sighs and drops his head to the steering wheel in exasperation. 

“Right so you mistook one of your best friends for a photographer you met for the first time today?” Sebastian drawls. 

Lewis is gesturing for him to end the call and Charles nods frantically, “Got to go, bye Seb,” He spits, ending the call and dropping the phone on his lap as if it might burn him. 

He glances at his boyfriend on a sheepish smile and Lewis just shakes his head on a fond smile, “I fucking love you, you know. At least when I retire I know I’ll never be bored with you around causing trouble,” 

Charles pouts, “I don’t cause trouble,” 

Lewis kisses the pout off his face and strokes a thumb across his cheek, “You do but don’t worry Seb and I will always be there to get you out of it,” 

The drive back to Sebastian’s house is just as long because as Lewis expected they had to make several stops along the way for a toilet and then for something to eat. 

“I’m going to put the bike into the garage, you go in and make sure Seb doesn’t come outside,” Lewis instructs when they arrive onto the country road leading up to their boyfriend’s house. “Do not blow this, Charlie. We’ve only got to get through tonight and then we can give it to him,” 

“Shut up, I won’t,” Charles insists, although he’s already not trusting himself to keep up the lie.

Lewis practically shoves him out of the car and he pulls out his key to Sebastian’s house, letting himself in the door. 

It looks like there’s no one in and he breathes a sigh of relief as he settles down at the kitchen counter, grabbing a bottle of water off the side. 

He’s scrolling through his phone and sipping from the bottle, when two fingers dig into his sides from behind. 

He spits out his mouthful of water on a squeal and drops his arms to his sides, flipping around on his stool to find Sebastian grinning at him. 

“You’re back. How’d it go?” 

Charles forces a smile, “It was good. What did you do today?” 

Sebastian leans in to press a kiss to his lips, “How’s George?” He asks, ignoring the younger man’s question. 

Charles starts to panic again when Sebastian’s hands move to his sides on a smirk and he throws desperate eyes to the front door, waiting for Lewis to come in. 

Apparently luck is on his side because the front door swings open and Lewis walks in on narrowed eyes when he sees them. 

The oldest man quickly distracts Sebastian with talk about what they’re going to have for dinner and Charles spits out an excuse that he’s going to go and stream upstairs. 

Lewis makes sure not to leave his boyfriends alone together all evening because he knows it’ll only take thirty seconds of Sebastian’s relentless fingers digging into Charles’ sensitive body and he’d blurt out everything. 

Both of them are feeling quite confident in themselves as they lie in bed that night, Sebastian softly snoring behind Charles. 

“I can’t believe we actually pulled it off. I hope he likes the bike,” Charles whispers on a grin next to Lewis’ face. 

Lewis hushes him with a kiss and they fall asleep with smiles on their faces.

Sebastian open’s one eye and shuffles closer to Charles on a soft beam, placing an arm across him and over Lewis’ back. 

He won’t tell either of his boyfriend’s that he’d seen an email from the seller on Lewis’ laptop when he was using it to check his work emails. His heart is too full from the lengths they’ve gone to surprise him and it has been fun teasing Charles all day. 

Chapter Text

Sebastian rolls his eyes when he realises what Charles is watching - for what feels like the hundredth time - on his IPad.

The younger man thought it was absolutely hilarious to find clips of his and Lewis’ press conferences from the early 2010s.

“Charles, do you really have to watch that again? What is your obsession with our old press conferences?”

Charles shrugs his shoulders, grinning when the camera zooms in on Lewis as he answers a question, “They’re funny. It’s crazy that you two were like my age back then,”

“Yes well that’s how life works, Charles. We weren’t always this old,” Sebastian retorts dryly, rolling his eyes again when Lewis smirks over at him.

“Your hair was awful then, you’ve definitely got better looking as you’ve got older,” Charles comments, smiling at Lewis and fiddling with one of his braids, “You too actually, Seb. You looked like a school kid,”

“Wow thanks Charlie, that’s a backhanded compliment and a half,” Lewis mutters, pushing away the brunettes hand.

“A what compliment?” Charles asks on a furrowed brow.

Lewis smiles and ruffles his hair, “A backhanded compliment. It means like a compliment that isn’t really a compliment at all,”

Charles frowns, “Oh well I meant it as a compliment,” He assures his boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his lips for good measure, “I wonder if I’ll get better looking with age too,” He muses.

“I hope not, you’re already incredibly vain as it is. Not to mention Lewis and I will only get worse looking,”

Lewis leans forward in the bed to shoot the German a glare, “Speak for yourself! You might be worried about losing your hair but I’m only getting better, man,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly, glancing down at the screen when he hears his own voice.

“You were such a brat back then Seb,” Charles teases, dodging the hand that comes out to smack him round the back of the head.

“Why do you think I always tell people that you remind me of a younger me?”

Charles scoffs on an affronted look, “Fuck you,”

Sebastian’s eyes twinkle with mischief and he grins, “We’ve already done that this morning and I’m not sure if I can manage another round right now,”

“I take it back, you’re still a brat now,” Charles retorts, fidgeting when Sebastian’s fingers digs into his ribs under the cover.

Lewis snatches the Ipad from the youngest man’s hands on a grin, “Let’s watch an F1 classic,” He glees, searching for the video and placing the IPad between them all.

Charles groans when he sees the video, whilst Lewis and Sebastian just laugh.

Not for the first time Charles wishes the decade old video of him and Max at the karting track hadn’t somehow gone viral on social media.

“Just an inchident on the race,” Lewis mocks with a perfect accent.

“Your English really hasn’t got much better since then which is worrying,” Sebastian teases, nudging the younger man’s shoulder with his own.

Charles pouts and the two men press chaste kisses to his cheek until he’s smiling again. Lewis replays the video once more because how can he not?

As they’re watching it again he tries not to dwell on the fact that when it was taken he was already racing in Formula 1.

He was racing and winning world championships when Charles was a moody 13 year old.

“Were Seb and I your heroes?” He asks the youngest man on a smirk, although genuinely curious to hear the answer.

Charles snorts, “No! Senna was! You two weren’t racing until I was like 10!” He quips on a laugh, eyes widening when the two men narrow their eyes on him, “But I mean I looked up to you of course, especially Seb because I knew him from the Ferrari Driver’s Academy,” He rushes to add.

Sebastian smirks, “I think it’s more reassuring that we weren’t your childhood heroes, that’d make me feel like an old creep,”

Lewis agrees on a nod of the head, “Definitely,”

“I don’t disagree with you two being old creeps though, I am a lot younger than you,” Charles jokes on a grin, regretting it as soon as fingers dig into his abdomen from both sides.

_______________________________________________

Lewis’ eyes meet his boyfriend’s across the paddock. He heads over and slides in between Carlos and Mick. 

“Great race today, man,” He praises Carlos, slapping a hand on his back, then turning to Mick, “And you kid. It shows real talent being able to put a Haas into the points,” 

Mick grins at him and Sebastian ruffles his hair, “Thanks Lewis. It was about time I finally got some points. I kept reading on Twitter that I might be losing my seat,” 

“I’ve told you to keep off social media for that exact reason,” Sebastian lectures on narrowed eyes, “The people saying that have no idea what it’s like to drive a race car. You’re doing everything right, Mick,”

“I’m not old like you, Seb, I like to use Twitter and Instagram,” Mick teases, ducking to avoid the hand aiming for the back of his head. 

“Why are all of you lot so cheeky? What happened to respecting your elders?” Sebastian snaps on a faux glare.

“You’re one to talk, these guys might not have been around but I remember how you used to be,” Lewis quips, nudging the German’s arm with his own. 

Sebastian shrugs his shoulders on a grin and then scans his eyes around the paddock searching for the familiar red. “Where’s Charles? Is he still doing media?”

Carlos grimaces, “I think he went back to his drivers room. Mattia was giving him a hard time about his mistake on the last lap and he looked pretty wrecked when I saw him,” 

Lewis’ eyes darken at the idea of Mattia doing anything but bowing down to Charles. The Monegasque is the reason they have a chance at the championship for the first time in years, and he gives his whole bleeding heart to that team. Not that they deserve it.

“He got P2. How can Mattia be pissed off about that?” 

Carlos grabs the back of his neck and looks between the two older men on a frown, “I think the pressure is getting to everyone. I don’t want to bad mouth the team but it’s not a great environment at the moment,” 

Sebastian hums knowingly. He can recall the toxicity that consumed Ferrari whenever it seemed like they had a shot at bringing home the title. It’s enough to drive anyone insane. 

Ferrari will draw you in with dreams of bringing the team back to the top, only to slaughter you if you don’t manage it. 

“How is Charles getting on with everything? He refuses to talk about it when I try and ask,” Sebastian questions the Ferrari driver. 

Lewis eyes the Spaniard. He’s not entirely sure if Charles has told his teammate about their relationship. They’d all agreed almost a year ago that they would keep it between them. 

Only a few of their close friends and family know. He’s fairly certain that Charles considers Carlos to be one of his best friends so he wouldn’t be too surprised if the younger man is aware of their relationship. 

Carlos doesn’t bat an eyelid at the question and if he thinks it’s weird that Sebastian is checking in on Charles, he doesn’t show it. 

“He’s not been talking too much to me either. I can see that he’s different to last year but when I try and ask him about it, he just smiles and promises he’s fine,” 

“He’s the same with me. I found him crying in the car park the other day after FP1 but when I tried to find out what was wrong, he just told me not to worry,” Mick comments on a frown. 

Sebastian shoots shocked eyes at the youngest man, “You never told me about that,” 

“I know, I’m sorry. Charles told me he was going to talk to the both of you when he got back to the hotel but I’m guessing he never did…” Mick trails off looking between Sebastian and Lewis. 

They share a disturbed look at the idea of their boyfriend crying in a car park and them having no idea. 

It concerns Lewis that other drivers have also realised there’s something going on with Charles. It’s not like he and Sebastian hadn’t been aware after his breakdown at the lake last month, but now it seems it’s worse than they thought. 

Both of them have been doing their best to support Charles however they can but the younger man doesn’t make it easy. Anytime they try to talk to him about how he’s coping with the season, he shuts them down. 

“He didn’t mention it no,” Sebastian drawls, locking eyes with Lewis, “We’ll go and find him,” 

“Have fun celebrating tonight you two, don’t get too drunk,” The German warns on a grin, ruffling Mick’s hair, “I’ll see you soon, kiddo,” 

Lewis congratulates them both again and heads off in the direction of Ferrari, Sebastian by his side.

“We better not see Mattia on the way, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from strangling him,” Sebastian mutters. 

Lewis arches an eyebrow at him. Sebastian isn’t a violent person but he’s protective of Charles, and he wouldn’t put it past the man to actually strangle the team principal. 

“I’m more inclined to strangle Charles. I knew he’d been hiding stuff from us,” 

Sebastian wraps a comforting around his shoulders, “I know the feeling. We’ll get him to talk,”

They wander through the Ferrari building, luckily avoiding Mattia, and the mechanics are used to seeing them there so don’t give them a second look.

He raises his hand to knock on his boyfriend’s door - recalling the time he hadn’t before and ended up walking in on Arthur crying about a breakup - but Sebastian rolls his eyes and pushes it open without announcing their arrival. 

The room is pitch black and they’re about to close the door until they hear ragged breathing coming from the other side. 

Lewis flicks the light on and is met with the sight of Charles crumpled on the floor in the corner of the room, his knees tucked up under his chin. 

“Fucking hell, Charlie,” He chokes, rushing over to his boyfriend and dropping to his knees in front of him. 

Sebastian slams the door shut and falls down next to him. 

“I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe,” Charles cries, grabbing at his chest as the tears drip down his cheeks. The hyperventilating causing his words to come out in broken shouts. 

Lewis grips him by the shoulders and lowers his gaze to meet his favourite green orbs, “Yes you can, Charlie. I promise you can. Just copy me,” He instructs calmly, “Deep breath in, deep breath out,” 

Charles’ eyes are wide with fear as he tries to copy his boyfriend but the ringing in his ears and the feeling that someone is choking him, makes it too hard. 

“I’m dying,” He spits through laboured breathing. His heart felt like it was going to burst any second and the worried looks on the older men’s faces only increases his anxiety. 

“You’re not dying, sweetheart. You’re having a panic attack. You need to take deep breaths. Copy Lewis,” Sebastian frets, wiping as many tears from the boy’s cheek as he can but giving up when they keep falling. 

“Pierre,” Charles begs with shaking hands that come up to grab his hair, roughly tugging it. 

Lewis jumps up and looks down at the German, “I’ll get him. Try and get his breathing under control,” He shouts, sprinting out of the room.

Sebastian grips the younger man’s wrists and pulls them away from his hair, “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart. I need you to slow your breaths okay? I know you can do that, you can do anything,”

Sebastian does his best to demonstrate slow and steady breaths but his boyfriend isn’t focusing on him - green eyes darting around the room and the short breaths are only speeding up. 

There’s tears dropping onto his cheeks as he grips the younger man by the arms, shaking him slightly to gain his attention. 

“Focus on me, Charlie. Deep breaths, come on,” He pleads, “Slow and steady,” 

The door crashes open and Pierre drops down beside him, “Calamar, it’s okay, it’s okay,” The Frenchmen soothes, glancing at the older man, “You two should wait outside,” 

Sebastian falters, not wanting to leave his boyfriend but Lewis drags him up and out of the door before he can argue.

They fall back against the wall, wiping away the tears that have stained their cheeks.

“This is not normal. He’s practically falling apart. How did we not notice things are this bad?” Lewis rasps, a distraught look on his face. 

They’d had brief discussions about their boyfriend; the short temper, skipped meals, and restless sleeping. 

It’s not like they couldn’t notice the change in his behaviour. They just hadn’t realised it was this bad. They thought they had time to let Charles open up when he was ready.

They were wrong. They’ve run out of time. 

Charles is so young and it’s obvious the unrelenting pressure of Ferrari is drowning him. The boy is still at the point in his career where racing is his whole life and it consumes his every being. 

And Lewis knows how that feels - he remembers being so enthralled with racing that it’s all you live and breathe for. All that matters is winning and hearing the crowds scream your name as if it’s a hymn. 

Racing is still everything but maybe it’s just getting older that means he now prefers the quiet moments at home with his favourite people. The constant travelling, sim work, and seat fittings get tiring very quickly. 

Its not the same anymore and it took him a while to admit it. Racing used to make his blood run but now it’s watching Charles try to explain a new tik tok trend to Sebastian as the man looks at him in disinterest. 

Now it’s walks around the lake holding hands with Sebastian whilst Charles runs ahead on a grin and threatens to push them in every five minutes, until one of them grabs him and secures him to their side with a kiss to the cheek. 

Now it’s game nights where they are all so ridiculously competitive that they have to stop half way through when it’s obvious an argument is brewing. 

Racing used to make his blood run - nothing ever felt the same - until he fell in love with Sebastian and Charles. They’re what keeps his heart beating now. 

He’s just not sure what keeps Charles’ heart beating. When they are alone and racing is the furthest thing from their minds, Charles is deliriously happy. He radiates youthful enthusiasm and endearing innocence. 

Lewis wishes it could be like that all the time. He wishes he could protect Charles from anything that would ever hurt him. 

“I don’t know how to handle this. He needs help, Lewis. Proper help,” Sebastian agonises, knocking his head back against the wall. 

Lewis pulls him into his arms and releases a shaky breath, “We’ll get him help. We’ll look after him, Seb,” He murmurs into the blonde curls, clinging onto the man. 

Pierre walks out of the door with a solemn look and they jump apart, shooting desperate eyes at him. 

“He’s okay,” Pierre confirms and Lewis closes his eyes briefly inhaling a deep breath. Charles is okay. Their beautiful boyfriend is okay.

“He’s asleep now. When he has a panic attack he’ll normally sleep for a few hours after,” The younger man explains, running a hand down his face, “I didn’t realise he’d started getting them again. He never said anything,” 

“Again?” Sebastian probes, “He’s had them before?” 

“When Jules died and when his Dad died. I’ve never seen him like that though,” Pierre answers before glaring at them both, “You should have told me he‘a struggling again! He’s my best friend!” 

Lewis blinks at the outburst. The younger drivers would never normally talk to them that way, with the exception of Charles. They have their own way of dealing with their boyfriend though.

“We didn’t realise it was this bad. He has been hiding it. We would have told you if we knew,” Sebastian promises, resting a hand on the younger man’s arm, “What should we do? I don’t know how to help him,” 

Pierre stares at him - probably deciding whether or not to continue berating him - before sighing. 

“Talk to him and if he keeps shutting you out then speak to Lorenzo. He’s the only one that was ever able to get through to Charles once Jules and their Dad died,” 

Lewis tries to ignore the pang in his chest at the thought of him and Sebastian not being the ones Charles would open up to. It’s selfish and unproductive. 

Sebastian knew Lorenzo better than him due to his time as Charles’ teammate. 

The oldest Leclerc boy had been apprehensive about their relationship at first, concerned that he and Sebastian were taking advantage of his little brother. 

After a few months he came round to the idea and Lewis had a good relationship with him now, both of them bonding over the chaotic nature Charles brings into their lives. 

“Thank you, Pierre. I don’t know what we would have done without you,” Lewis admits. 

He’s glad that Charles has so many people in his life that care about him. He just wishes Charles would realise it too. 

Sebastian and Lewis sit at the table in the younger man’s room and watch him as he sleeps soundly on the sofa. 

It amazes Lewis how peaceful the boy looks when he sleeps. There’s no pressure of carrying a team on his shoulders, and he looks so young. 

It’s almost three hours later when Charles wakes up and blearily looks around the room, smiling when he sees them. 

They pull him into a bone crushing embrace and whisper words of love and admiration, before wrapping him between them and taking him back to his hotel. 

Lewis looks over at Sebastian in disbelief as Charles babbles on about a new song Carlos had shown him. 

The complete obliviousness to what happened earlier baffles him. As if he hadn’t caused Lewis and Sebastian to nearly have a heart attack. As if they hadn’t witnessed him crumble in front of them. 

Sebastian must feel the same way because after listening to the younger man go on for a few minutes, he pulls the phone out of his hand and pauses the song. 

“Charlie, we need to talk about what happened earlier,” 

Charles rolls his eyes on a smile, and Lewis has to clench his fists to stop himself shaking some sense into the boy, and yelling at him for his obvious disregard of his mental well-being. 

The smile on his boyfriend’s face isn’t even his real smile. It’s his media smile. It’s not the one reserved only for him and Sebastian. 

Lewis almost wishes he didn’t know the difference. A part of him craves the days when he was still getting to know the younger man properly and he couldn’t differentiate between a forced smile and a genuine one. 

Because now he has to sit by and watch as Charles lies through his teeth and shrugs off the concern, knowing he’s in pain but not admitting it. 

“Look, I’m sorry you guys saw me like that. It was nothing though. I was stressed after talking with Mattia and it got to me. I’m fine really,” 

Sebastian scoffs angrily and pushes himself up in the bed so he’s eye level with the younger man, “It’s not nothing, Charles! You had a panic attack and we know that you haven’t had one for years!,” He yells, before noting the defensive look in the younger man’s eye and lowering his voice, “I’m not blaming you for anything, Charlie. We just want to help you and we can’t if you won’t talk to us,” 

Charles tries to snatch his phone back from the German but he holds it out of his reach on a glare. “Talk to us, Charles,” 

The Monegasque arches an eyebrow and shrugs his shoulders, “There’s nothing to talk about, Seb. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you both that I’m fine,” 

Lewis shifts in the bed and levels his boyfriend with a glare, “You can say it as many times as you want Charles but we won’t believe you, not when it’s obvious you’re not,” 

“Don’t act like you fucking know me! You don’t know anything!” 

This is the side of Charles he doesn’t like. He loves every side of Charles but he doesn’t like this side. 

The side that defends and puts up walls when no one is attacking. The side that amplifies his immaturity and shows he hasn’t yet properly learnt how to deal with his emotions. 

“I do know you, Charles. Seb and I know you and we want to help you, so let us,” 

Charles growls and climbs over Sebastian, standing at the edge of the bed looking every bit of the beautiful boy he is, with messy hair and bright eyes. 

“I don’t need help,” He grates, green eyes taunting them, “Are we going to watch something on TV or are you both going to keep going on about this? If you are I’d rather be alone,” 

“Fuck sake, Charles,” Sebastian snaps, slamming his fist into the mattress, “Stop acting like this is normal! You either talk to us or a professional. We are not letting this slide anymore,” 

“A professional?” Charles snorts, “Who the fuck do you think you are? You can’t tell me what to do, Seb! I know you think you’re in charge because you’re older than me but I’m not some kid! I’ve never asked for your help!”

“Why haven’t you asked for our help?!” Sebastian yells, before inhaling a calming breath. 

He slides out of the bed and stands in front of the younger man, “I’ve never thought I was in charge of you, Charles. I know you’re not a kid. You’re young though and I’m worried about you,” He confesses, “That’s who I am. I’m someone that loves you more than anything and I want to help you,” 

Charles’ eyes drop to the floor and Lewis let’s himself relax slightly knowing their boyfriend was finally going to tell them what has been going on. 

He would stand with Charles through anything. There’s nothing that could stop him from being there for his boyfriend. 

Unless it’s Charles himself. 

The Monegasque looks back up and Lewis almost recoils at the fury in his eyes. The eyes that are normally dancing with mischief or blurry with sleep. 

“Get the fuck out,” He snarls, “Both of you, get out,” 

Lewis moves to stand next to Sebastian, the heat of Charles’ eyes cutting through him like a knife. 

“Don’t do this, Charlie. Don’t push us away,” Lewis begs, reaching out a hand to rest on the boy’s shoulder, only to have it pushed back with force.

Charles steps toward them and Lewis can’t even see the green in his eyes anymore. His pupils are so blown that they are just black balls. 

“Get out now,” 

Sebastian clenches his fists at his side, “We are not leaving, Charles. This has gone too far now. You need help,” 

They both jump when Charles’ fist slams into the wall, causing the white plaster to crack. He drops his head to the wall and turns his back to them, the anger causing his body to vibrate. “I won’t tell you again, get the fuck out,” 

Lewis and Sebastian share a look and begrudgingly grab their phones from the side tables. The only thing worse than leaving Charles alone would be him hurting himself. 

Lewis’ eyes pinpoint on the new cuts decorating the boy’s knuckles and he knows it will only get worse if they stay. 

“This isn’t over, Charles. We’ll give you time to calm down but we’re not letting this go. Sort you fucking hand out, you’re bleeding,” Sebastian shouts over his shoulder as they exit the room. 

They lean against the door in silence and inhale sharply when the loud cries echo from the room. 

_______________________________________________

Charles groans when he hears his name being called again. 

“Leclerc!” Sebastian yells, when he doesn’t reply within ten seconds. 

He drags himself from the sofa and over to the bedroom, peeking his head around the door. 

Sebastian and Lewis are cuddled up in the bed, blankets piled on top of them and looking like they’re feeling very sorry for themselves. 

Flu medicine and dirty tissues litter the bedside table. 

“What’s up?” He asks, grimacing at the wet cough escaping Lewis’ mouth. 

“Turn up the heating, Charlie, it’s freezing,” Lewis moans. 

He rolls his eyes. It’s anything but freezing. He’s already turned the heating up to an unbearably disgusting temperature and there’s no way it’s going any higher. 

“It’s already on high enough. I read on Web MD that the fever will only last about 12 hours. You just need to get through another few hours,” 

Lewis moans and aggressively blows his nose, “I don’t care what Web MD says, this is going to last a lot longer than a couple of hours, Charles. Turn up the heating. It feels like I’m dying,” 

Considering that Sebastian and Lewis are both high performance athletes, they’re massive crybabies when it comes to being sick. 

Charles doesn’t want to be insensitive but he’s spent the entire day bringing them drinks, soup, and new blankets. If he didn’t know any better he’d think they were enjoying having him at his beck and call.

“Is that your professional opinion, Dr Hamilton?” He asks dryly, smirking at the sleepy glare coming from the oldest man. 

Sebastian reaches out his arm feebly before letting it fall down the side of the bed, “Don’t be a cheeky bastard,” He warns hoarsely, his voice scratchy and weak, “We’ll remember this the next time you’re sick and trying to crawl all over us,” 

Charles grins, “I don’t get sick, I’ve got a good immune system. Must be my youth,” 

Lewis leans up slightly on a glare then drops his head back down on the pillow and burrows into his boyfriend’s side, “Come and give us some cuddles, Charlie. You’re always warm,” 

“No way,” Charles spits, “We have a race this weekend, there’s no way I’m getting sick,” 

Sebastian tilts his head on a smirk, “I thought you didn’t get sick because you’re so youthful?” 

Charles opens his mouth to reply and then closes it again. Damn Sebastian and his ability to always use his own words against him. 

“Come for a cuddle, Charlie. We’ll do our best not to breathe on you,” Lewis calls, limply holding out his arms then moving one hand to his mouth as he’s overcome with a coughing fit. 

He really does love Sebastian and Lewis. He loves them more than anything but there’s absolutely no way he’s getting into that bed with them when there’s only four races left in the season. 

After sleeping in one of the spare rooms last night he’d managed to avoid whatever bug they’d caught, and he plans to keep it that way.

“No, I can’t risk getting sick. Do you want some more soup? I can go back to that shop,” He offers, hoping the promise of Lewis’ favourite vegan soup will distract him. 

Sebastian rolls over in the bed and looks at him with puppy dog eyes, “We could be dying, Charles, and you won’t even come and give us a hug. I had no idea you were so cruel,” 

Charles rolls his eyes, “You’re not dying, you’ve got a cold. You are both being crybabies. Imagine what people would say if they knew you acted like this when you were sick,” 

The German levels him with a glare but it’s not very intimidating when his nose is bright red and his eyes are half lidded. “You’re so horrible. We are always so good to you when you’re not feeling well,” 

The comment makes him feel guilty. It’s true that he rarely gets ill but when he’d caught covid last year both Lewis and Sebastian had been amazing. 

They stayed with him the whole time, not caring that it was contagious. They cuddled him in his bed and let him watch his favourite films, despite hating them. 

Lewis drove half way across Monaco to go and get him his favourite ice cream. 

He releases a resigned sigh and crawls in between them in the bed. The older men immediately cling onto him and even though they feel like literal radiators, he wraps an arm around them both. 

“If I get sick and have to miss the race, I will never forgive either of you,” He warns but there’s no malice in his tone. 

Lewis huffs a breathy laugh onto his neck, “If you do I’ll crash into Max so that you both get no points,” 

That actually makes Charles laugh and he presses a chaste kiss to both the men’s foreheads, “Thanks Lew, at least I can always count on you,” 

Within a few minutes of him being squished between his boyfriend’s they fall asleep, soft snores sounding in his ears. 

Charles carefully pulls out his phone from the pocket in his shorts and holds his phone up to take a selfie of them. This was prime black mail material. 

He cringes when the phone makes the camera shutter noise but lets out a sigh of relief when neither men stir next to him. 

Opening up Instagram, he leans back against the pillows and scrolls through his friends’ post when there’s a mumble from his side. 

Charles looks down and sees one of Sebastian’s eyes squinting open at him on a smirk, “Tomorrow when I have the energy I’m going to make you delete that photo. Nice try, Charlie,” 

_______________________________________________

“This is so unfair,” Charles moans on a pout, resting his head on a bent arm. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes and ignores the younger man as he places down three lettered tiles to spell out joke on the board. 

Lewis hums in approval and grins over at him, “Not bad, Seb. 15 points. You’re still in the lead but only by 12,”

The oldest man’s hand hovers over his own tiles, desperately trying to search his brain for a word containing letters p, h, z, e, k, n, and a. 

He stares at the words already spelt out on the board and smirks as he places down three of his tiles to make the word zone using the o from Sebastian’s.

He flips Sebastian off on a smug grin, “13 points! Who’s the better scrabble player now, Vettel?” He jeers. 

The German waves a dismissive hand in front of his face, “You’re ahead by one point, don’t go getting too cocky. I’ve still got plenty of letters to use,” 

They turn to the youngest man who is ignoring them and scrolling on his phone. 

Lewis reaches over and snatches the phone from him on a glare, “No using phones whilst we play, you little cheat!” 

Charles shoots indignant eyes at him and folds his arms across his chest, “I wasn’t even looking up words! I hate this game. Why can’t we play monopoly?” 

“Because the last time we played monopoly you ended up throwing the board across the room and knocking over Seb’s trophy from Japan,” 

Charles smiles guiltily over at the blonde who is looking back on narrowed eyes. 

“I still feel like that was deliberate because you never got over the strategy giving me the win,” He quips, laughing when Lewis groans and Charles glares at him.

“I’ve told you so many times it wasn’t deliberate! I only threw the board because you two were targeting me! It was an accident!” 

“Well done, Seb, you’ve set him off again. I thought we put this behind us months ago,” Lewis rasps, reaching a hand over and squeezing the youngest man’s shoulder, “We know that it was an accident, Charlie. Don’t we Seb?” 

Sebastian shrugs his shoulders on twinkling, mischievous eyes, “I don’t know, I’m sure I saw him looking for something to aim at before he threw it,” 

Charles slams his hand on the table and pouts, “I didn’t! I didn’t even realise it was the Japan trophy until you said it!” 

“Seb!” Lewis warns, kicking his shin under the table. 

Sebastian yelps and rolls his eyes fondly, “Fine, fine. I know it was an accident. Now hurry up and have your go, Charles. I’ve got an idea for a word,” 

Charles shoots him a final glare before lowering his eyes to his own tiles and sighing, “I can’t think of a word,” He moans, “English isn’t my first language, it’s not fair,” 

“English isn’t Seb’s first language either but he’s scoring a lot of points,” Lewis points out on an arched eyebrow. 

“Yeah but Seb is…” Charles trails off waving his hand in the air searching for a word and landing on, “Seb,” 

“He’s clever and I’m stupid,” 

Sebastian points a finger at him in warning, “Don’t say that. What did we tell you about calling yourself stupid?” 

“Not to do it because I’m not and it’s bad for my self confidence,” Charles mumbles, throwing his hands in the air in frustration, “I am though! I can’t think of any words!” 

“Come on, Charlie, just put a two letter word down. You must be able to make one of them,” Lewis placates, smiling at him encouragingly. 

The Monegasque looks between his boyfriend’s with his best puppy dog eyes. The ones that he knows they can never say no to. “Can one of you help me please? You’re both soooo clever,” 

Sebastian snorts and prods him in the side, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Leclerc. We are not helping you, we are playing against you. If you can’t think of a word then skip your go,” 

“How many points am I on Lewis?” 

Lewis looks down at the notepad and back at the youngest man on a smirk, “22,” 

“And what about you and Seb?” 

“I’m on 104 and Seb is on 103,” 

Charles drops his head to the table on a groan, “I give up. You two never let me win anything,” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes and pulls the younger man up by his hood, “Stop being a brat. Are you taking your go or not?” 

Charles shakes his head and tries to grab his phone back from Lewis, only getting a slapped hand in return. 

The German shrugs his shoulders and places down all seven of his tiles on a cheeky grin. “77 points! Beat that Hamilton!” 

Lewis looks at the word on a furrowed brow, “What the fuck is that? That’s not a word!” 

“Yes it is. Chutzpah basically means audacity,” 

The Brit shakes his head on a glare, “That is not a word. Use it in a sentence,” 

Sebastian grins, “Charlie is a brat but you have to admire his chutzpah,” 

“Hey!” Charles protests. He’s not really sure what the sentence means but he’s pretty sure he should be offended. 

“Do you even understand what I just said?” Sebastian asks dryly, and the youngest man shoots him an affronted scowl. 

“Seb, I’ve never heard of that word before. It doesn’t count,” 

“Just because you haven’t heard it doesn’t mean it’s not a word, Lewis! You haven’t heard of a lot of words!” Sebastian argues. 

Charles looks between them on a bored expression as they continue to argue about the word chutzpah. 

Just as he’s about to leave them to play without him so he can go upstairs and stream, he realises neither of them are keeping an eye on the bag of tiles. 

Lewis had made sure it was in the middle of the table because he didn’t trust either of them not to cheat. He was right to think that. 

Charles casually leans over the table and digs his hand into the bag, keeping an eye on the two older men as they continue to shout at each other. 

He grabs a handful of tiles and shoves them in the pocket of his hoodie. Sebastian looks at him on narrowed eyes and pauses mid argument, “What are you doing, Charlie?” 

Charles sits back down on what he hopes is an innocent smile, “Nothing,” 

Lewis levels him with a glare, “Were you just trying to see what letters we have? That’s cheating, Charles! If you’re not going to play properly then don’t play at all!” 

“I wasn’t cheating! I’m ready for my go now. Can I go?” 

Lewis and Sebastian assess him suspiciously but let it go so Lewis can take his turn.

A few goes later and Charles is grinning wildly as he places down another 36 point word. His boyfriend’s have been praising him the last few turns but now they’re glaring at him. 

“How have you got enough tiles to make that word, Charles?” Sebastian interrogates before looking in the bag of tiles and scoffing when it’s empty, “And how have we already run out of tiles?” 

“Have you taken extra tiles, Charlie?” Lewis questions on a glare, trying to pull the boy over to him. Charles slaps his hands away on a pout. 

“No! Why can’t you just accept that I’m not as stupid as you thought?” 

“We don’t think you’re stupid, Charlie. Don’t try and turn this around on us. Just be honest, have you stolen some extra tiles? We won’t be mad,” 

Charles looks at Lewis hesitantly, trying to work out if he really means it. He watches the two older men share a look and decides they definitely will be mad. 

“I haven’t! I swear!” 

Sebastian huffs out a breath and shoots his arms out, grabbing the youngest man and manhandling him onto his lap. 

“Empty your pockets right now,” He warns, tugging the boy back when he tries to pull out of his hold. 

“No! I don’t need to prove anything to you!” 

Lewis stalks around the table and glares down at his boyfriend, “Empty your pockets now or we’ll do it,” 

When Charles gives no indication that he’s going to comply, Sebastian digs his hands into the boy’s pocket, ignoring the shout of protest that comes from Charles. 

Sebastian pulls out a handful of tiles and holds them out to show Lewis on a glare, “You cheeky little bastard. I knew you were cheating! There’s no way you knew what Melancholy meant!” 

Charles leaps off Sebastian’s lap and attempts to run out of the room, only for Lewis to grab him by the waist and shove him back on the German, “Do you know what happens to cheaters?” Lewis drawls, smirking down at him. 

Charles’ eyes widen and he desperately tries to wiggle out of his boyfriend’s hold, “I’m sorry! I wanted to win! I’ll never do it again!”

Sebastian and Lewis give him a look of indifference before digging their fingers into the boy’s sides and ribs, laughing as he flails around on squealing giggles. 

Charles makes a mental note to never cheat again. 

Chapter Text

Watching Max Verstappen overtake him on the last lap in Abu Dhabi was hard. No, it was soul crushing.

An eighth world championship snatched from his hands in a matter of seconds. The one that would have put him in the record books - one more than Michael Schumacher.

It was the closest he’d ever come to retirement.

The line of drivers slapping consolatory hands on his back, murmuring condolences did absolutely nothing to take away the pain.

He’d cried in his drivers room for the first time in years. He felt his legs collapse beneath him and then nothing. The exhaustion overcame him and it felt like his body had given up. He had given up.

There were no emotions left. Everything was numb and it almost felt surreal. How did it all go so wrong so quickly?

It was only when Sebastian and Charles forced their way in to his room and wrapped strong arms around him, that he cried again. That he remembered he was alive and he had people that loved him.

Sebastian had promised him he’d come back stronger next year, that he’d claim his eighth title and go down in history.

Lewis had believed him. He was fucking Lewis Hamilton. He was born to win.

Then the season started and it all came crashing down. After years of success Mercedes’ didn’t have a car to compete for the title.

Dreams of going down in history as the greatest race driver there had ever been felt impossible to reach.

The season isn’t even half way done yet and he’s sick of it. He’s sick of struggling in a car that feels like it’s going to break his back. He’s fed up of watching his teammate, who’s practically a child, beat him in every race. This kid who looked up to him his whole life and held him in such high regard, is now is out performing him.

Retirement has never looked so appealing. He’s not even sure he’ll be fit enough to race again next year with the way his back is feeling.

It’s the new generation of F1 that are on the podium race after race now. Youthful, fresh faces smiling under the confetti and covered in champagne.

It’s Charles standing up there with his dimpled grin and fans screaming his name. It’s Charles replacing him on the top step where he’s spent the last however many years.

And he’s proud of his boyfriend. He’s ecstatic for him. But there’s a bitter taste to it all. A part of him that wants to tell Charles to take a year off so he can get his eighth title.

Charles has over a decade in the sport left - he’s got time. Lewis doesn’t.

“Do you want some tea?” Sebastian’s voice calls from the doorway and he looks up to find the man smiling softly, dressed like he’s been out on the farm.

“Please,” He breathes, leaning back on the sofa and pushing aside all the data he’d been going over. It’s pointless.

Lewis closes his eyes and tries not to think about the rest of the season; the inevitable disappointment, his 24 year old teammate coming ahead of him in the championship.

The sofa shifts and he opens his eyes to see soft blue ones. Everything else was changing but the thing that never changed was those blue eyes. He’d always be able to look into them and feel at home.

Sebastian pulls him into his side and rests a comforting hand on the nape of his neck.

“I know,”

The two words are enough. The recognition of the fatigue the season has brought. Sebastian knows. He’s been through the same struggles. He’s had the media speculating his talent. He’s had a car that can’t get you out of Q2. He’s had an arrogant kid come into his team and show him up.

Sebastian understands.

“How the fuck did we end up here, man?” He snorts, burrowing his face into the crook between the blonde’s neck and chin.

It wasn’t all that long ago that it was him and Sebastian on the podium every weekend. The two of them coating each other in champagne and being praised as the best in Formula 1.

Now they comfort each other in bed after DNF’s and 12th place finishes. Now they have the future of the sport lying between them going through his own title fight and all the struggles that come with it.

“Life,” Sebastian replies wistfully, “We got older, Lew, and the kids rose up,”

The changing of the guard.

Lando out performs Daniel. Charles out performed Sebastian. Max out performs Checo. George out performs him. The kids are rising.

He remembers being the young hot shot in the paddock and the older drivers looking at him warily, knowing he would beat them. Lewis had just always assumed he’d retire before he switched sides.

“It’s crazy, man, it’s like they can just get in any car and fucking perform,” He bites, pulling back and grabbing the mug of warm tea off the table.

There’s something different about the new generation of F1. It’s not just that they are all friends and have grown up together, which in itself is a first for the sport. It’s that they all seem to be able to adapt to any car.

If he was being a bitter old man about it he might try to find a connection between their ability to excel in any car and the obsession with game consoles. They’d grown up using different technology. They are the most adaptable generation there has been so far. When he’s in a better mood he might ask Charles about it just to see the adorable look of outrage on his face.

“I know,”

It’s the same two word reply but it’s enough. Sebastian knows. He had the front row seat to Charles beating him over two seasons.

“I miss it, man. What if this is how it’s going to be until we retire? Barely able to drag cars through an entire race, let alone up to the podium,”

Sebastian sighs and tilts his head to look at him, “It’s best not to look back, Lew. We still have time. You still have time,”

“I don’t know if I do,” He muses, stroking a finger down Sebastian’s beard, “I’m scared I don’t. Not with the likes of Max, Charles, George and fuck even Lando. What if this is it?”

He can feel Sebastian’s grin and he strokes his finger across the curves of his lips, “Lewis, they might be quick but they’re all still consumed by youthful arrogance. We’ve got experience and experience always comes out on top,”

The front door smashes open, banging into the wall, and Lewis can’t help the smirk on his face as he watches Sebastian briefly close his eyes to try and stop himself from lecturing their boyfriend about it.

The hurricane that is Charles Leclerc flies into the room looking every bit of the devil he is, dressed in Ferrari red.

“Hey,” He greets, wide eyed and joyful as he squishes in between them on the sofa, knocking Lewis’ cup of tea everywhere in the process.

“Careful, Charles,” Lewis grates, placing the half empty mug on the table and wiping the hot liquid off his sweatpants.

“You be more careful, you should have been holding it better,” Charles accuses on a grin, batting Sebastian’s hand away when he ruffles his hair.

“Have you been going over data?” Charles asks, eyeing the bits of paper on the table and grabbing at them. Lewis snatches them away and folds them into his hoodie pocket.

“Get off, I’m not giving Ferrari any insider information,” Lewis gripes, pushing the boy back into Sebastian’s chest when he tries to pull the papers from his pocket.

Charles snorts in amusement, resting his head on Sebastian’s shoulder as the man wraps an arm around his waist, “Like we need any insider information from Mercedes. I was thinking more that I could give you some tips, you know because I’m beating you every race,”

Lewis can’t help the smirk on his face. There’s the youthful arrogance. A part of Lewis misses the naivety. The undoubtable belief that everything will keep going your way. Sebastian is right. Experience, he realises will always come out on top - it’s knowing what to do when things don’t go your way.

“Don’t get too cocky, Charlie. The season is long and I can still come back to beat you a few times,”

“I’d like to see you try,” Charles taunts on an awful attempt at wink, before bolting upright and almost smashing into Sebastian’s chin in the process, “Oh! I just remembered! I’ve got a present for you two!” He shouts excitedly, jumping off the sofa and running to wherever he’d thrown his bag when he came in.

“Is it just me that feels like I age quicker when he’s around? How can someone even have that much energy,” Sebastian grumbles, quickly downing his mug of tea.

“What do I always tell you? He’ll put us in an early grave,” Lewis replies on a laugh, turning his attention back to their young boyfriend when he walks in the room holding two photos.

“We did some new headshots for the fans,” Charles explains on a grin, handing over the signed photo of him in his Ferrari gear, “I figured you two would want my autograph,”

“Gee thanks, Charlie. It’s everything I ever wanted,” Sebastian deadpans, placing the photo onto the table.

Charles giggles and falls between them on a grin, “Well you two are my biggest fans right?”

“Always,” Lewis confirms on a smirk, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

And he is Charles’ biggest fan. It’s not just soft blue eyes that are his home; it’s vibrant green ones too.

Even if they are looking at him from the top of the podium and Lewis is nowhere near it.
_______________________________________________

Lewis inhales a deep breath and counts to ten in his head. Formula medicine had taught him plenty of coping mechanisms to deal with stress and to keep himself calm.

Nothing could have prepared him for this kind of stress though.

“Charles!” He snaps, grabbing the bag of flour from his hands, “Stop spilling it everywhere! We won’t have any left!”

“I’m not! It was a tiny bit!”

Lewis pinches his nose and looks down at the half bag of flour decorating the kitchen counter and the floor, “Go and sit in the other room with Seb. You’re driving me crazy, man. It’s his turn to put up with you now,”

Charles tries to wrestle the bag of flour out of his hands and they tug it back and forth between them, “Let go, Charles,” He grates, keeping one hand on the bag and using the other to push Charles back by the chest.

“I want to help! Let me do something!” The younger man protests, tugging the bag of flour back hard.

Hard enough that it rips down the middle and spills all over the floor.

“Fuck sake, Charlie!” Lewis yells, looking down at the minimal bowl of pancake mix on the kitchen counter, “You’re not helping, you’re making everything harder!”

“Don’t shout at me!”

Lewis shoots a scowl at the boy, “Stop giving me reasons to shout at you then,” He barks, “Get out of here now,”

Charles folds his arms across his chest and stares at him, “Make me,”

“Don’t test me, Charlie. I’ve only had one cup of coffee and I’m really not awake enough to be dealing with your shit,”

Charles’ eyes twinkle with mischief and Lewis knows that look all too well, “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t,” He warns, watching the boy pick up the bowl of pancake batter.

Before he has a chance to react the batter pours onto his head and Charles is looking at him with playful eyes.

“Does that count as helping?” The Monegasque asks on a grin.

“You little fucker!” Lewis roars, scooping a handful of batter that was still stuck in the bowl and gripping the boy by the nape, smearing it over his face.

Charles splutters and pushes him off with a hard shove to the chest, not bothering to wipe the mixture from his face.

He picks up the jug of oat milk they’d measured and holds it out threateningly.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Charles,”

The scowl on his face is apparently having no affect on his boyfriend who is grinning with wide, playful eyes.

This is the side of Charles he fell in love with first. The high-spirited, troublesome side that amplifies his youth.

It’s also the side that has him wanting to rip out his hair and strangle his boyfriend.

“What happened to the pancakes?”

They turn to the voice behind them where Sebastian is leaning on the counter with an arched eyebrow.

Lewis and Charles glance at each other before simultaneously shouting,

“Charles happened!”

“Lewis wouldn’t let me help!”

Sebastian shakes his head fondly on a laugh and walks round the counter to them.

“Charlie, go and wash your face then wait in the other room,” He instructs, squeezing the boy’s upper arm.

“Why am I the one that has to go? You two always gang up on me!”

“Because you’re a little shit!” Lewis argues, “I told you to get out earlier. You’re cleaning up this mess,”

“No I’m not,” Charles insists, stepping towards his boyfriend on a glare.

“Yes, you are,”

“That’s enough, you two are acting like children. Charles, go, now,” Sebastian asserts, pulling the younger man by the arm and pushing him in the direction of the door.

“But, Seb,” Charles starts to argue, and Sebastian turns slightly to point a finger at him in warning, “No, Charlie. No arguing. Go,”

The look of defiance in his eye reminds Sebastian of the latter half of 2019. When Charles stopped looking at him with pure admiration and started to bite back.

The naive 21 year old who’d he’d started the season with - who worshipped the ground he walked on - had unleashed his fangs, and they spent months verbally sparring in debriefs and hotel rooms.

He remembers after the podium in Singapore and how his teammate had stared at him like he was praying for his downfall. Charles got what he wanted in the end - even if by then it was everything he didn’t want.

Charles scoffs in anger and palms the jug he’d still been holding in his hand, before stepping towards Sebastian and tipping it over his head.

Lewis covers his mouth with his hand to hide the smile and watches as the German turns around slowly to face the youngest man. He wipes away the stray bit of liquid that has dripped onto his cheek and flicks it onto the floor.

“Oh you’ve really done it now, Charlie,” Lewis quips on a grin, ducking his face when the blonde shoots him a glare.

Charles bites his lip, looking like he’s definitely regretting everything that has just happened.

“I’m going to give you three seconds and if you’re still standing in this kitchen then I won’t be held accountable for my actions,” Sebastian growls and Charles sprints out of the room, not looking back.

“Do you think we are too far into the relationship now for us to break up with him and it not be messy?”

Lewis laughs and cups his cheek, “I think we’d miss him after an hour,” Sebastian raises an eyebrow and he scoffs, “Okay, two hours. The first hour would be quite peaceful,”

“You’ve got batter in your hair,” Sebastian notes on a smirk, poking at his dark hair.

“You’ve got oat milk in yours,” He retorts, flicking a wet blonde curl.

“Remind me never to let Charles anywhere near this kitchen again,” Sebastian drawls, looking around at the mess, “Actually remind me to murder Charles,”

Lewis leans into press a kiss to his lips and mumbles, “I’m going to murder him first,”

Murder was an exaggeration. They’d never hurt Charles - in fact they’d only hurt someone for Charles.

Lewis is glad that there’s three of them. That he has Sebastian to share annoyed looks with when their boyfriend is being particularly irritating. He’s glad he has Sebastian to help manage the chaotic whirlwind that is Charles Leclerc.

He’s glad he has Charles who he can laugh at Sebastian with when the man becomes teary at a documentary. He’s glad he has Charles who when things feel heavy can light up the room.

They melt into each other’s arms, pausing between kisses to try and wipe away the pancake ingredients dripping onto their faces.

After ten minutes of Lewis avoiding carding his hand though milk covered curls, Sebastian pulls back on a sigh, “Let’s get cleaned up, I think I can hear Charles in the shower,”

Lewis grins and follows the German up to the bedroom where they strip off their clothes and go into the en-suite.

Charles looks at them on wide eyes, freshly showered and a towel wrapped around his lithe waist.

“You look clean, must be nice,” Sebastian drawls, stepping towards the boy who pivots to the right and darts past them both.

“Oh he’s scared,” Lewis laughs, pushing the blonde into the shower cubicle and turning on the water.

Sebastian leans into his chest to avoid the cold spray, forcing him against the tiled wall, “He should be,”

“Do you want me to wash your hair?” Lewis asks, sticking out a hand to test the water and smiling when it’s warm.

Sebastian pulls him under the water and hands him the shampoo, moaning when he massages it into his scalp.

Lewis remembers falling in love with Sebastian. He fell in love with him before Charles.

Sebastian had always been there. They’d shared the highs and lows together. His love for Sebastian was a comforting kind of love; the love he can imagine having his entire life, the love that you feel in your 30s when you’ve already been through your fair share of toxic relationships. It was a warm kind of love that felt like he was always being wrapped in an embrace.

Loving Sebastian was easy. It was natural. It felt like he’d loved him forever.

He fell in love with Charles harder. It consumed him. Charles’ radiance and enthusiasm drew him in and he fell without worrying about the consequences. His love for Charles set his body on fire. The sensible part of him knew it could end in tears - his tears. Charles was young and so beautiful. He could drop him and Sebastian as if it was nothing and find an endless line of models to fall in bed with him.

He didn’t though and Lewis let himself feel comfortable with the idea that maybe Charles really did love him just as deeply. He never questioned it with Sebastian - how could he when the man gave him his everything?

Charles though who had been hurt so much in his short life had walls. He didn’t love as easily. Lewis used to stare at the devilish grin on the boy’s face and wonder if he would ever love as freely as him and Sebastian.

Charles used to murmur the three words into his mouth when he was on the edge of an orgasm and Lewis didn’t believe him. He never believed him.

Until Charles started saying it when they were watching TV, or as they swam in the pool. He believed him then and the natural love he felt with Sebastian, suddenly felt natural with Charles too.

He loves Sebastian and Charles for different reasons - but he loves them both just as fiercely.

They make quick work of getting cleaned up; Sebastian reminding him about water usage and the impact it has on the environment.

“Is it time to murder our favourite little menace?” Sebastian asks on a grin once he’s pulled on a clean t-shirt.

“You hold him down this time, last time the little fucker pinched me so hard it bruised,”

Sebastian snorts on a nod of the head, holding out his hand and leading Lewis downstairs on the hunt for their boyfriend.

They stop in their tracks when they walk into the kitchen to find it clean and Charles standing behind the counter pouring milk into three bowls of cereal.

He looks up at them on a sheepish smile, “There’s no flour left to make pancakes,” He explains, pushing the bowls of cereal over the counter.

The two older men look at each other on raised eyebrows then take a seat at the counter, pulling the bowls towards them, “I wonder where all the flour went,” Lewis drones, winking at the boy.

Charles blushes and looks at the floor, which only makes them laugh.

“Sorry for you know throwing stuff on you,” The youngest man mumbles.

Sebastian narrows his eyes, “It’s okay, Charlie. We’re used to your chaos by now. You’ve done a good job cleaning up,”

Charles raises his eyes to look between the two men, “I heard you,”

Lewis frowns at the look of anguish in the younger man’s eyes, “Heard what? What are you on about, Charlie?”

“I heard Seb talking about you two breaking up with me,”

Sebastian sighs and rolls his eyes fondly, “That was a joke, Charlie. Don’t be silly,”

Charles doesn’t reply, instead grabbing two mugs from the side and filling them up with fresh coffee from the pot. He slides the mugs over on a small smile.

It’s so endearing that Sebastian has to look away. Their little menace who actually believes they could ever live without him. Their menace who has no idea of the impact he’s had on their lives.

“Come here, Charlie,” Sebastian says softly, opening his arms. Charles hesitates and the German arches an eyebrow, “Charles, come here,”

He relents and walks around the counter, standing in front of Sebastian’s stool and falling into his arms.

Sebastian wraps strong arms around him and presses a kiss to his hair, “We love you and you’re never going to get rid of us. Stop being silly. It’s weirding me out seeing you make us breakfast and coffee. You should be sitting on the counter babbling away like normal,”

Charles pulls back on a pout, “You’re angry at me,”

Sebastian shakes his head on a smirk, “No, I can never stay angry at you - especially when you look at me like that,” He promises, poking the boy in the stomach.

Charles looks over his shoulder apprehensively at Lewis and the older man sighs and pulls him back by his hood into his chest, “You’re a little demon,” He says fondly, pressing kisses down his neck, “But you’re our little demon,”

“So we can forget about it?” Charles asks hopefully, looking between them on a grin.

Lewis laughs and presses a kiss to his hair, “Oh not a chance, Charlie. We’ll make you pay once we’ve had breakfast,”
_______________________________________________

Lewis cards a hand through the soft, dark hair attached to the head resting in his lap. The slow breathing coming from below him is a sure sign that Charles is asleep. He picks up the remote and turns the tv down so it doesn’t disturb his boyfriend.

“Do you want to just order tonight? Chinese?” Sebastian asks, walking into the room wearing a t-shirt splattered in oil that means he’s been working on one of his vintage cars in the garage.

Lewis shoots him a glare and lifts his index finger to his lips, “Be quiet, Charlie is asleep,”

Sebastian grimaces and mumbles an apology, walking into the living room and crouching down in front of where Lewis is seated on the sofa to be level with the younger man’s face.

“I like him so much better when he’s asleep and not mouthing off,” Sebastian whispers on a grin, pressing a kiss to the pale cheek, “How long has he been sleeping?”

Lewis picks up his phone and checks the time, “Almost an hour. He looked ready to keel over by the time we got back here though - must have had a rough day,”

“Not that he’d ever tell us about it,” Sebastian mutters darkly, “I’ll order him his usual. Are you hungry or do you want to wait a bit?”

“I’m starving, man. Order me that vegetable stir fry,”

Sebastian arches an eyebrow, “No kung-pow chicken then?”

“You’re not funny,” Lewis mumbles, extending his leg to knock the German off balance. Sebastian falls onto the floor on a chuckle.

He drags himself back up to a standing position using Lewis’ sturdy knees to pull him up, being careful not to jostle the sleeping head on his lap.

Sebastian leans into kiss his boyfriend and murmurs against his lips, “I’m going to have a shower then I’ll order,”

Lewis smacks him on the ass as he walks by and settles a bit lower on the sofa, continuing to comb his fingers through Charles’ hair.

Almost half an hour later a freshly showered Sebastian settles himself on the sofa, gently lifting Charles’ legs and placing them over his lap as he sits down.

“It’ll be here in twenty minutes, you should probably wake him up,”

Lewis raises his eyebrows at his boyfriend, “Why do I have to wake him up?”

Sebastian shrugs his shoulders on a smirk, “He’s always moody when he gets woken up. I’d rather him be moody with you,”

The Brit rolls his eyes but lowers his head to place chaste kisses along the boy’s neck, “Charlie, wake up, sweetheart,” He murmurs, shaking slim shoulders when the gentle approach doesn’t work, “Charlie, wake up,” He says louder.

Charles groans and pushes his face deeper into Lewis’ lap, “Go away,” He moans.

Sebastian snorts and shifts the younger man’s legs off his lap and into a sitting position before grasping the boy’s shoulders to pull him up. He grins when Charles leans back on the sofa obviously awake but with his eyes firmly closed.

“Open your eyes, Charlie. Dinner will be here soon,” He pokes a finger into the toned stomach and Charles opens his eyes on a glare.

“What’s the time?” Charles grumbles, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and snuggling into Lewis’ shoulder.

“It’s late. I’ve ordered Chinese. I got you your favourite,” Sebastian informs his boyfriend, reaching over to stroke a finger down his cheek.

“I’m going for a run,” Charles announces, stretching his arms above his head on a moan and jumping off the sofa.

“Charles,” Lewis frowns, “We’ve ordered food. It’s too late to go for a run. We’ll all go in the morning,”

The Monegasque waves a hand dismissively, “I’m not hungry, you can have mine, Seb. I really need to get a run in before I go to bed,”

Lewis and Sebastian share a concerned look. It’s the third time this week that their boyfriend has refused dinner.

Normally Charles would just go to bed and they wouldn’t push it, knowing he’s been exhausted from the season. The following day they’d make sure he eats enough and it wasn’t too much of an issue.

Today though they’d been racing and they were both completely aware that Charles hadn’t eaten at all because Andrea had told them. The trainer had approached them after the race to ask if they’d noticed Charles’ eating habits changing.

“You need to eat, Charles. You haven’t eaten all day. There’s no need for you to go for a run now. Sit down,” Lewis nags, pulling at the younger man’s hand.

Charles shakes him off on a smile. Lewis’ heart pangs at the lack of genuineness behind it. It’s not the dimpled smile that he sees every morning when Charles is barely awake and giggling at everything.

“I had dinner with Andrea after the race so -“

“Don’t lie,” Sebastian interjects on a glare, “Don’t lie to us, Charles. Andrea told us you haven’t eaten all day and that you’ve been skipping meals,”

Charles levels him with a menacing glare, “He had no right to do that. Anyway, it’s not true. I had dinner with him after the race,”

Lewis shakes his head on a sigh, “Why would he tell us you haven’t eaten if you had?”

“I don’t know! He must have forgotten! We don’t all go around remembering every little thing we do, Lewis!” Charles hisses defensively, stepping back on a scowl when Sebastian tries to pull him down to the sofa.

“Charlie, don’t do this,” Lewis breathes, dragging his hand down his face in exasperation. He can already tell how this is going to turn out.

Charles is on the defensive and when Charles gets this way it only ends with him screaming heated insults until he and Sebastian can’t take it anymore and start throwing them back.

They’d either all end up in bed furious and ignoring each other, or Charles would sleep in the spare room arguing he wanted to be alone.

They’d hear the soft cries through the walls and try to console their boyfriend only to be hit with another barrage of insults.

If they were in the bed together Charles wouldn’t cry. He did everything he could not to show what he saw as weakness in front of them.

It’s something Lewis never liked or understood. Both he and Sebastian had often sought comfort in the younger man’s arms when they’d been going through hard times.

He thinks that must be what love is; seeking comfort in the person you need more than anyone - for him it was two people.

Charles though would never seek comfort in them. On the rare occasions they’d managed to console him it had only been because he was too exhausted to fight them.

“Don’t do what, Lewis?“ The boy snarls, “What am I fucking doing that you don’t like now? There’s always something!”

Sebastian stands up and crowds his boyfriend, “Stop it, Charles. Stop lying to us. We’d never lie to you so don’t lie to us,”

“I’m not lying!” Charles exclaims, throwing his arms out in frustration, “Andrea is lying!”

Lewis scoffs in anger and pinpoints the younger man with a glare, “Why would Andrea lie, Charles? It’s his job to make sure you are healthy and he obviously doesn’t think you are,”

“I don’t know why he’d lie,” Charles barks, “Maybe he doesn’t want me to win the championship. I don’t know, but he’s lying,”

Sebastian snorts, “You’re being ridiculous now, Charlie. Andrea cares about you and I know you care about him. This is nothing to do with the championship, this is about you running yourself into the ground,”

“Everything is to do with the championship, Sebastian! I’m sorry that it has been so long since you’ve fought for one but this is what it’s like!”

“You won’t win a championship by doing this to yourself, Charlie,” Lewis murmurs, standing up and trying to pull the younger man into an embrace.

Charles shoves him off and easily holds the glares directed at him from his boyfriend’s. “Maybe I fucking will!”

“No you won’t. At the rate you’re going you’ll end up in some rehab facility and forced out of F1. We know what it’s like to win a championship, Charles, and you will never win if you keep this up,”

Lewis shoots wide eyes at the harsh words. It’s not like he doesn’t agree with his boyfriend but they normally tried to calm the younger man down before reverting to brutal honesty.

Charles laughs bitterly and turns around, kicking at the table in the centre of the room, “I hate when you do that! You two think you’re so much fucking better than me because you’ve done it all before! It’s always been like this hasn’t it? You two teaming up against me and I’m just this fucking kid you feel sorry for! I’m fucking done with it and I’m done with the both of you!”

Lewis flinches when Sebastian lurches forward and shoves the younger man against the wall, holding him in place with an arm across his chest.

“Shut your mouth, Charles. Don’t go saying things that you can’t take back! We don’t team up against you. I’m sorry if it annoys you that we are older than you and we’ve been in Formula 1 longer than you, but that’s how it is. We don’t think you’re a kid but sometimes you really fucking act like one! Just be honest with us about what’s going on!”

Charles pushes against Sebastian’s arm, desperately trying to relinquish the pressure against his chest. It’s futile though because Charles might be slightly taller but Sebastian is bulkier and stronger. “Get off me! Get off me, Seb!” He roars.

Lewis’ heart breaks at the hoarseness in his boyfriend’s voice. He rests a hand on the German’s arm, “Seb, come on. Let him go. You’re hurting him,”

Sebastian flicks wet eyes to him and the last whole bit of Lewis’ heart shatters. He can tell it’s killing Sebastian to see Charles like this.

“No,” He spits, “I’m tired of watching him do this to himself and if this is the only way he’ll talk to us then this is what we’ll do,”

Sebastian looks back at the younger man. Charles who he’d held in his arms after he’d won his first gran prix on the same weekend he’d lost a childhood friend.

Charles who he loved so much it hurts but never fails to push every button.

Charles who he would protect until his last dying breath.

“Lewis, please,” Charles cries, trying again to push their boyfriend off him but giving up and leaning his head back against the wall, tears staining his cheeks.

It takes everything in Lewis not to drag Sebastian off the younger man, but he knows he’s right. Charles will never open up to them unless he’s forced to, and as much as it’s killing Sebastian to see the boy like this - it’s hurting him just as much.

“No, Charlie. We want to help you. Let us help you,”

Charles points his head up to the ceiling and let’s out a frustrated cry.

A knock on the door startles them. Charles scrubs at his eyes and the anguish in them is replaced with heated fury.

“Go and answer the door, Seb,”

Sebastian shakes his head. “No. This is it, Charles. No more kicking us out of your hotel room, no more talk about you leaving. This is it. You’re not getting out of it this time,”

The knocking persists and Charles growls, “Answer the fucking door, Seb! It’s your house!”

Sebastian glances at Lewis who nods and walks over to the door, finding a very wary looking teenage girl holding their food.

He grabs someone’s wallet off the side - not even bothering to look who’s it is and hands her a wad of notes; hoping the massive overpayment will make her forget about the screaming she would definitely have heard.

It does the trick because she looks down at the money on a grin, “Thank you, enjoy your food,”

Lewis accepts the warm bag and dumps it on the side, closing the door and walking back into the living room to find his boyfriends in the same position - just with a lot more tears.

“I’ll talk to you,” Charles whispers, looking down at the floor.

Sebastian looks back at Lewis on a small smile and must relinquish his hold slightly because Charles manages to overpower him, and push him off.

“You manipulative little fuck!” Sebastian roars, trying to push the younger man back against the wall but Charles is better prepared this time and pushes back.

Lewis rushes between them wary that they might start throwing punches soon and that’s something they’d never done. It’s something he hopes they will never do.

“You both need to calm down right now,” He barks, forcing his arms around Charles when he tries to shove their boyfriend in the chest.

“Where is this going, Seb? Are you two just going to hurt each other all night? I can’t sit by and watch that,” Lewis cries, feeling the emotions overpower him and the tears start leaking from his eyes.

“I don’t know - I don’t fucking know. Charlie, please. Talk to us,” Sebastian begs, dropping to the sofa with his head in his hands and tears racking through his body.

Charles looks between them and his eyes start to water again, “Stop,” He snaps, “Stop crying, please. I hate when you cry,”

“We can’t when you are doing this to yourself, Charlie. We love you and this is hurting us, maybe just as much as it’s hurting you,”

Charles flicks his eyes to Lewis’ and let’s the words sink in. His body crumbles in the older man’s hold.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry,” He cries, “I - I - I think I need some help,”

Lewis wraps his arms around him tightly and holds his beautiful boyfriend. His beautiful boyfriend who cares more about him and Sebastian than himself. Who will destroy himself until there’s nothing left but can’t stand to see them upset.

“We’ll help you, Charlie. We’ll always help you. You’re our everything,”

Sebastian stands up and wraps his arms around them both, “We’re going to get through this together, Charlie. We will never leave your side. You need to eat something and then we’ll talk okay? We’ll figure this out,”

Charles pulls back and Lewis’ heart in his throat because he knows how easily Charles can close himself off. He knows Charles might turn around and start screaming in their faces again.

“Okay,” Charles whispers.

And Lewis breathes a sigh of relief. They’ll get through this.

_______________________________________________

Charles watches with a solemn expression as his boyfriends load up the car with a tent, sleeping bags and everything else they could possibly need.

Lewis turns to look at him with an arched eyebrow, “You could actually help instead of just sitting there looking pretty,”

Charles smirks from his position on the bench, “You two seem to be doing just fine,” He quips, pulling out his phone and scrolling through Instagram.

Lewis leans on the edge of the car and smirks as Sebastian grumbles to himself whilst trying to push the ice box in the boot with everything else.

“I still feel like this is a terrible idea. Charlie? Camping? They don’t even belong together in the same sentence, man,”

Sebastian looks up on a proud beam after finally managing to arrange everything in the boot, “He’s never been before! Everyone should go camping at least once in their life. Besides how much chaos can he cause in the woods?”

Lewis arches an eyebrow, “Have you met him?”

Sebastian slams the boot shut on a scoff, “It’ll be fine, get in the car,” then turns back to the younger man, “Let’s get going, you menace,” He orders.

Sebastian drives them down deeper into the woods. The highway has long gone and they’re following some kind of dirt road.

“You’ve been here before?” Charles asks curiously from the back seat, taking in their surroundings and frowning at the lack of reception on his phone.

He tries to push down the sense of uneasiness in him at the vast forest around them. If there was ever a place he’d get murdered it would be here. He also wouldn’t put it past Lewis and Sebastian to murder him here and discard of his body.

Sebastian glances in the mirror at him on a grin, “Many times. You’ll like it Charlie,”

“It looks like something out of a horror movie,” Lewis retorts dryly.

“I’ll look after you, sweetheart, don’t worry,” Sebastian replies on a chuckle, squeezing Lewis’ knee. The older man pushes him off on a roll of the eyes.

They pass a campsite and there’s a few other people scattered around, which makes Charles feels a lot better about the whole getting murdered in the woods thing.

“See they’re having fun,” Sebastian gestures at some university aged boys sitting around a campfire and drinking beer.

Charles raises his eyebrows, “They’re kids, anything is fun to them,”

“They’re probably not that much younger than you,” Sebastian points out on a smirk and Charles rolls his eyes.

They drive to the bottom of the trail and are met with a large lake, the sunlight is starting to fade and it looks like a postcard.

“It’s beautiful,” Lewis murmurs and Sebastian beams over at him.

Charles leans his head forward through the gap and admires the view, “It’s alright. Monaco is better,”

Sebastian pulls up near the lake. Charles and Lewis watch him get out of the car and walk over to the edge of the lake.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Lewis groans, resting his head against the window.

“We could drive off and leave him here,” Charles suggests making Lewis laugh.

“Get out and see what he’s doing will you?”

Charles sighs but opens the car door, “What are you doing?” He shouts, stumbling out of the car and almost falling face down into the mud, flipping off Lewis who is laughing at him.

Sebastian turns back to him on a grin, "Just looking for somewhere for us to get set up. We need to make sure it’s high and flat,”

Charles has a thousand questions as to why they need to be somewhere high but he doesn’t bother asking them - knowing he’d be at risk of one of the older man’s lectures on camping safely.

Sebastian seems to settle on somewhere because he walks back over to the car and pulls out a broom. Charles hadn’t even seen him pack that, why would they need to do any cleaning in the woods?

“Come on Lew, we need your help,” The German calls, walking back round the passenger side and dragging his boyfriend out of the car.

Lewis looks at the broom in his hand, “What’s that for?”

Sebastian holds it out to Charles on a smile, “Sweeping the dirt. You get started, Charlie. Lewis and I will get the tent ready,”

Charles looks at Lewis who is shrugging his shoulders in an I have no idea either way.

Sebastian seems to sense his confusion because he rolls his eyes fondly and forces the broom into his hand. “Sweep any sticks or rocks away, we can’t put the tent up over them,”

“Oh right,” Charles mumbles, attempting to sweep the spot of mud next to them.

Sebastian sighs and grabs the broom out of his hand, doing a much better job already. "You’re lucky you’re pretty,”

Charles grins and goes back to stand next to Lewis who is watching their boyfriend in bewilderment.

“Seb, are you sure we need to do all this? I used to go camping a lot as a kid and we didn’t do this,”

“This is how real campers do it, Lewis. Go hard or go home, that’s what the kids say right?”

Charles scoffs, “They definitely don’t say that, you’re showing your age Seb,”

Sebastian turns back to him on a faux glare and points the broom at his chest, “Keep it up and I’ll throw you in the lake,”

“I’d like to see you try,”

“Okay,” Sebastian replies nonchalantly, dropping the broom and stalking over to him. Charles squeaks and hides behind Lewis, “I’m sorry, I take it back,”

Lewis laughs and grabs him around the waist, pulling him round to his front.

“Throw him in,” The oldest man jeers, pulling Charles back when he tries to run to the car.

Sebastian stops in front of them in a grin, “Let this be a warning to you, Charlie, keep being a cheeky little bastard and you’ll end up in that lake,”

“He doesn’t know how not to be a cheeky little bastard, it’s in his blood,” Lewis jokes, poking his boyfriend in the side.

The German rolls his eyes fondly and walks over to the car to retrieve the tent, lying out the poles on the floor.

Lewis leans down to help him set them out, “I’m an expert at putting up tents man, I can do it in ten minutes,”

“Alright Sir Hamilton,” Sebastian drawls, ducking to avoid Lewis’ hand coming to smack him in the head, “Show me how it’s done,”

“Watch and learn, Vettel,”

Charles and Sebastian share a smirk when ten minutes passes and Lewis is still struggling to figure out the different types of poles.

“What kind of tent is this? Is this some crazy German one?” He seethes, kicking one of the poles.

“Thought you were supposed to be an expert,” Charles mumbles, eyes widening when the oldest man shoots him a scowl.

“Lake,” Lewis warns and it’s enough to shut Charles up.

Sebastian pulls the youngest man into his side on a grin, “Does the expert need some help from us amateurs?”

Charles laughs and it turns into a squeal when Lewis repeatedly pokes him in the stomach. He steps back on a glare, “Seb’s the one that said it!”

“Yeah but we can only do this to you,” Sebastian glees, grabbing the younger man by the waist and digging his fingers in his side.

And Lewis can’t help the fond smile on his face as he watches Charles wriggle in Sebastian’s hold. They can only do that to him and they definitely take advantage of that - but how could they not?

How could they not when they got to see the side of Charles they loved the most? The carefree, adorable side.

Charles squirms and giggles, “Stop it! It’s not funny!” He protests breathlessly.

The German let’s him go and presses a kiss to his forehead, “Let’s get this tent up. Charlie, you read the instructions out and we’ll put it together,”

Lewis hands the instructions up to Charles who starts to read them in a rather authoritative tone.

“Pole A needs to slot into Pole C,”

Lewis looks up at him with a glare, “You need to tell us which pole is which Charles,”

“Pole A is the long one,”

Sebastian sighs, “That doesn’t help at all, Charlie. There’s loads that are the same length. Which colour tag does it have on it?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know that?” Charles snaps, throwing his arms in the air.

Lewis snatches the instructions off him, “It literally says it right here,” He barks, pointing at the instruction booklet.

Charles feels something nip at skin and jumps, “There’s insects everywhere!” He hisses, waving his hands around.

Sebastian just laughs at him as he starts to put the correct poles together following Lewis’ instruction, “Man up, Charlie. It’s just a few bugs,”

Charles glares at him just as he feels another insect crawling up his arm, “They’re massive, Sebastian! If I catch some kind of disease out here then Mattia will sue you!”

Sebastian slides four of the poles together only to have Charles fall back into him whilst waving away a bug and knock them apart, “Fuck sake, Charles! There’s bug spray in the bag. Use some of that and then wait over there! We need to get this tent up before it gets dark,”

Charles shoots the man a scowl and trudges off to the car, “This was your stupid idea,” He mumbles under his breath.

“What did you say?” Sebastian asks and it’s in the tone Charles knows well. The tone where Charles is annoying him and he’s one second away from wrestling him to the floor and torturing him with his relentless fingers.

Charles locates the bug spray and turns to the older man on a grin, “Nothing, Seb,” He calls, spraying the bug spray all over him until he starts coughing and throws it back in the bag.

“What’s taking you so long?” He snaps, walking back over to his boyfriends who are still trying to put up the tent.

Lewis turns to him on a glare, “Lake!” He warns, “And shut up complaining! You couldn’t do it any quicker! Why don’t you actually help instead of fucking about?”

Three hours and four arguments later they’ve managed to put up the tent and blow up the air mattress. Although they’re not really on speaking terms anymore. Sebastian and Lewis are shooting him glares and he’s sending them back just as furiously.

Charles had always thought it would be racing on the track that tested their relationship, little did he know it would only take a weekend camping together.

He leans against the car with his arms crossed over his chest and probably looking like a petulant child but not caring.

Lewis pulls out three fold up chairs from the boot and sets them up in front of the tent. He looks at the younger man on a soft smile, “Come and sit down with us,”

Charles pouts but walks over, taking a seat next to his boyfriends.

Sebastian pulls out a bottle of whiskey from God knows where and fills up three plastic cups, putting considerably less in one. Charles watches him with a disgruntled expression.

He accepts the glass Sebastian hands him on a frown noting the difference in the amounts and the older man rolls his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, you’re a lightweight,” The German teases, prodding him in the side and then doing it again for good measure. Charles bats his finger away on narrowed eyes.

They lean back in their chairs and sip at their drinks, looking out at the lake.

“This is nice, yes?” Sebastian asks, not taking his eyes off the water.

“Yeah it’s nice Seb, this was a good idea,” Lewis agrees, finally feeling relaxed for the first time all day. He turns to the Monegasque on a smile.

“Charlie? You enjoying your first time camping?”

Charles scoffs, “Oh yeah, it’s great. I’ve only been bitten five hundred times and we’ve only nearly broken up twice despite being together for over a year,” His voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lewis and Sebastian share a look.

“Lake?”

“Lake.” Sebastian confirms, standing up.

Charles bolts out of his chair and holds out his arms, “Don’t you fucking dare, I’ll murder you both in your sleep,”

“I’ll grab his arms, you grab his legs?”
_______________________________________________

Sebastian turns up his best of the 80s playlist to try and drown out the moaning coming from the backseat.

It almost worked until a head of perfectly styled dark hair pops through between his and Lewis’ seats.

“Why do I always have to sit in the back?” Charles groans, digging his hand in the bag of vegan sweets Lewis has placed in the car console and pulling out a sour snake on a grin.

“Because it’s Seb’s car so he drives and I’m older than you so I get the front seat,” Lewis answers, slapping the boy’s hand away when he tries to take a handful of sweets. “No more. You’re even more annoying hopped up on sugar,”

“That excuse only works when you’re a kid! Why can’t we take it in turns?”

Lewis turns his head to the side and grins at the face poking through next to his shoulder, “Seb prefers me in the passenger seat. I don’t piss him off as much as you do,”

“That’s not true!”

“It is, he told me,”

Charles gapes and turns his head to the driver’s seat where the German is doing his best to ignore the argument next to him, “Seb! Is that true?”

“Right now, yes,” Sebastian grates, taking his eyes off the road to shove the boy in the shoulder and back into his seat, “Sit back,” He snaps, then does a double take in the rear view mirror, “Is your seat belt off?”

Charles leans back and rests his head against the window, “There’s been no cars for the last 20 miles, Seb. We’re not going to crash,”

Sebastian glares at him through the mirror, “I don’t care, Charlie. Put your seatbelt on. Mattia would not be happy if he knew you weren’t wearing one,”

“Charles,” He barks when the younger man ignores him, “I will just pull over and do it myself, and I won’t be gentle,”

The Monegasque rolls his eyes on a sigh but plugs his seat belt in, “Happy? Now you can crash if you want,”

Lewis turns around from the passenger seat to glare at him, “Stop being such a brat, Charles. Are you still sulking because we are not going to the lake?”

“I’m not sulking! I’m not a child!” Charles snaps, kicking the back of Sebastian’s seat when he snorts, “I just don’t understand why we couldn’t go there. I wanted to go swimming,”

“There’d be too many people, Charlie, you know that. We’re trying to protect you,” Lewis placates, handing him another sour snake on a smirk to combat the uncharacteristic frown on his boyfriend’s face.

Charles hums in acknowledgment and pops the jelly snake in his mouth.

Lewis and Sebastian had always been more concerned about their relationship affecting his career than their own. They planned to retire next year but he still had at least a decade left.

He would be the one facing all the media scrutiny if they were outed, and the older men refused to let that happen.

Charles unplugs his belt and leans forward, poking his head back between the seats, “Can I choose a song, Seb?”

“No you can’t and put your seatbelt back on,”

Charles sits back on a roll of the eyes, “God, why are you in such a bad mood?”

Sebastian’s eyes flick to the mirror and Charles withers under the scowl being shot his way.

Lewis and Charles look at the German in confusion when he pulls over at the side of the country road.

“What are you doing?” Lewis asks, “Is there something wrong with the car?”

Sebastian turns around in his seat, ignoring Lewis, and glares at the youngest man, “Get out, you’re walking the rest of the way,”

Lewis bursts out laughing and Charles gapes at him, “No! We are still like five miles away! It’d take me like 2 hours!”

“Get out or I’ll drag you out,”

“Seb! Why? I haven’t even done anything!” Charles protests, folding his arms across his chest.

“If I hear one more word out of your mouth then you are walking, got it?”

Charles opens his mouth to protest but a stern look from Lewis is enough to make him change his mind. He nods his head on a pout and looks back out the window.

Sebastian pulls back onto the road, glaring at the grin on Lewis’ face and feels himself start to relax again.

Until, “Seb?”

“What, Charlie? You’re not doing a very good job at keeping your mouth shut,” Sebastian hisses, looking in the mirror to find a frown on the younger man’s face.

“I’ve left my phone on charge at your house, can we go back?”

He doesn’t even bother to reply, just turns up the music even louder and carries on for the last few miles until they reach the hiking spot.

“Seb, did you hear me? I’ve left my phone at home,”

Lewis smirks at his boyfriend when he grips the steering wheel tighter and clenches his jaw.

He turns around and can’t stop the laugh that escapes his mouth, “Charlie, you’ll be fine without your phone for a couple of hours. Be quiet yeah?”

Sebastian gives Lewis a grateful smile, resting a hand on his knee and squeezing it gently.

They arrive in the empty car park near the large hills they’ll be hiking up, and file out of the car.

It’s always a secluded spot and one of Lewis’ favourites - even if most of his memories here revolve around Charles spending most of the time complaining.

Sebastian grabs his backpack and the bottles of water from the ice box in the boot, handing one to Lewis and Charles.

The younger man refuses to look him in the eye when he accepts it and he pulls him into his side, pressing a kiss to his temple, “Do you want to bring the football? We can have a game when we get to the top,”

Charles looks up at him with an arched eyebrow, “Am I allowed to talk now?”

Lewis scoffs a laugh from beside them and Sebastian pushes the younger man away on a glare, “You’re such a cheeky little bastard. It’s not like you ever stop talking anyway. Grab the football from the boot,”

Charles grins at him and retrieves the ball, running after Sebastian and Lewis who have already started heading up the track.

Sebastian grabs Lewis’ hand and brings it to his face to press a kiss to it, “It’s moments like this that make me think when I do retire I won’t even miss racing, it’s beautiful out here,” He croons, looking around at the bright blue sky and the vast green around them.

“Yeah I know what you mean, man. I can imagine myself walking here for the rest of my life,”

The German arches an eyebrow, “I hope you imagine me walking with you too,” He muses on a smile, craning his neck to look at the younger man dawdling behind them, “And that little menace,”

Lewis smiles and pulls the man into his side, “Of course,” then hesitates, “And maybe some other much littler menaces,”

“One day,” Sebastian promises, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “One day we’ll have it all, Lew,”

Lewis smiles to himself. One day they will have everything but right now with the sun warming their skin and his two favourite people around him; he doesn’t need anything else.

“How long are we giving Charles before he starts complaining? I’ll put money on half an hour,”

“Oh yeah? How much money are we talking?” Sebastian grins, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand to hold.

Lewis narrows his eyes on him, “£100,” He answers, smirking at the look of disinterest on the blonde’s face, “Don’t pull that face. You spend most of your time in England now, you need British money, man,”

Sebastian snorts and shakes his head, “Fine but you’re giving him too much credit. I’m saying fifteen minutes,”

They stop in the middle of the pathway and grin at each other, shaking hands, “You’re on, Vettel. I’m going to buy myself something nice with your money,” Lewis teases, leaning into press a kiss to the man’s lips.

They pull apart when a shout comes from behind them, “Why are you two shaking hands?”

Lewis turns back to the younger man on an innocent smile, “No reason. Just enjoy the sunny day, Charlie,”

Charles gives him a look that suggests he knows there’s more to it but doesn’t ask anymore questions.

He runs to catch up with them and Lewis throws an arm around his neck, noting the red tinge on the boy’s face, “You’re already burning. I told you to put some sun cream on,”

Charles touches his face with a grimace, “I wanted to tan,” He mumbles, looking over at Sebastian, “Seb, do you have sun cream in your bag?”

Sebastian pulls his backpack off on a roll of the eyes and digs through it, “Yes because I knew you’d need it. You’re literally as pale as a ghost, I don’t know why you’d ever think you could get away with not putting any on,” He mutters, handing his boyfriend the bottle.

“Ghosts aren’t real, Seb,” Charles grumbles, stopping at a bench to rub sun cream all over his face, handing his sunglasses to Lewis.

“They are, my house is haunted. It used to be owned by an old farmer and he still hangs around to make sure everything is being looked after. You might want to remember that the next time you destroy my kitchen, you wouldn’t want him coming after you,”

Charles looks up at him with narrowed eyes, “Shut up, Seb! There’s not a ghost in your house,”

Sebastian turns to Lewis with a smirk, “You’ve seen him before right, Lew?”

Lewis forces back the grin from his face, and looks down at Charles with a stern expression, “It’s real, Charlie. I’ve seen him a couple of times. I’m surprised you never have,”

“Both of you shut up, I know you’re lying,” Charles mutters but the nervous look in his eyes and the chewing of his lip gives him away. He hands the bottle back to Sebastian on a glare and stalks ahead of them, holding the football.

“Do your arms too, Charlie,” Sebastian calls, holding out the bottle only to receive a middle finger in return.

Lewis chuckles quietly and shakes his head, “That was mean. He’s going to be begging us to sleep with the lights on for months now,”

“Yeah well that’s what he gets for being a little bastard,” Sebastian responds on a grin, shoving the bottle of sun cream back in his bag.

Lewis and Sebastian walk hand in hand to the top of the first hill where Charles is lying on the grass.

“It’s too hot to be hiking, I want to go swimming,” The Monegasque moans.

Sebastian looks down at his watch then at Lewis on a smirk, “It took twenty minutes, I’m closer so you owe me £100. I’ll take bank transfer or cash,” He declares on a cheeky grin.

“No way, man! We were both wrong so no one wins!”

“Someone always has to win, Lewis, and this time I win. You can just give me the money when we get home,”

Lewis scoffs and bumps their shoulders, “I’m not giving you anything. Do you not know how a bet works? We were both wrong,”

“£100 please,” Sebastian quips, holding out his palm on a grin.

“Cheeky prick,” Lewis growls, tackling the blonde to the floor and straddling him.

Sebastian looks up at him on a grin, “You’re a really sore loser, Lew. You’re normally much more gracious than this when we race,”

Lewis pulls his bottle of water out from his shorts pocket, unscrewing the lid and holding it over the man’s face threateningly, “Either agree that no one won or I’ll pour this all over you,”

“That’d be a waste of your water and I’m not sharing any of mine with you,” Sebastian retorts, although it’s an empty threat because he definitely would. He’d do anything for Lewis.

Lewis presses a hand on the man’s chest on a faux-glare, “Agree no one won or I’ll do it,”

“I won,” Sebastian glees, laughing when the water pours over his face, “It’s actually quite refreshing,”

Lewis snorts and leans down to press a kiss to the German’s lips, “You’re so annoying,”

They pull apart when a stream of water trickles onto their heads and look up to see Charles standing next to them with a grin and his now empty bottle.

Lewis climbs off Sebastian and drags the younger man to the floor, grinning when Sebastian appears next to him to hold down Charles’ arms.

“That wasn’t very nice, Charlie,” Lewis snarks on a smirk, pushing the boy down again when he tries to wriggle free.

“You poured it over Seb! I was just joining in! You two always gang up on me!” Charles complains, struggling against them.

“It’s more fun that way,” Sebastian retorts, looking at Lewis with their own form of silent communication before they dig their fingers into the younger man’s body.

Charles giggles hysterically, writhing underneath them. They only stop when his breaths become a bit too ragged and Lewis pulls him up to lean against his chest so he can catch his breath.

“So unfair, you’re both horrible to me,” Charles mutters breathlessly on a pout, only smiling again when Sebastian moves his wriggling fingers closer in warning.

Lewis loves Charles the most like this. He wonders how many people have got to see Charles Leclerc in this way; his defences down and unbridled joy on his face. He wonders how many people have got to see Charles screaming with giggles underneath them as his body betrays him and he can’t help squirming.

He tugs the boy closer to his chest and wraps his arms around him tightly, “I don’t know what we’d do without you, Charlie. You’re our sunshine,”

“I mean we’d probably go a lot longer without any grey hairs,” Sebastian jokes, clamping a hand around Charles’ foot that tries to kick him.

“Let’s get going, we’ll only go to the top of the other hill seeing as you two wasted most of our water,” Sebastian announces on a faux glare, standing up and holding out a hand to Lewis.

The Brit accepts it gratefully and drags Charles up with him, slinging an arm around his neck.

“Just give me that £100 later, yeah?” Sebastian quips, grabbing Lewis’ hand and holding it when it comes out to push him in the chest.

“Why are you giving Seb £100?” Charles questions on a frown.

Lewis and Sebastian share a grin, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Charlie,” Lewis soothes, pressing a kiss to his temple.

They don’t end up making it the top of the second hill because Charles starts moaning about it being too hot to walk any further.

Instead Lewis and Sebastian end up chasing him back to the car, laughing at the screamed words complaining that they are always picking on him.

Later that evening after they’ve eaten - and Sebastian has found some after sun for Charles - the younger man walks back into the living room and lies across them on the sofa, “My arms are all sun burnt,” He mumbles, sighing contently when Lewis cards a hand through his hair.

“You only have yourself to blame, Charlie,” Lewis retorts on a smirk, glancing over to the window when there’s a loud bang from outside.

The wind has picked up again and it’s blowing around Sebastian’s garden ornaments. He furrows a brow when the German grins mischievously.

“I think that might be Sven,” He drawls, grinning wider when Lewis and Charles look at him confusion.

“What?” Lewis baffles, leaning over to feel Sebastian’s forehead to make sure he’s not suffering from sun stroke.

The man pushes his hand away and looks at Charles, “Sven - he’s the farmer I was telling you about who died here. He must be around tonight,”

Charles bolts upright on a glare, and Lewis wraps an arm around his waist so he doesn’t fall off the sofa, “That’s not funny, Seb! I know there’s not a ghost! They’re not real!”

Another loud bangs come from outside and Charles’ eyes widen in fear.

“I think you’ve upset him, Charlie. I’d sleep with one eye open tonight,” Lewis cautions, shooting a smirk at Sebastian.

They both burst out laughing at the look of pure horror on their boyfriend’s face.
_______________________________________________

“We’re all in a press conference tomorrow together,” Charles drawls, scrolling down his itinerary for the following day on his phone.

Sebastian glances up from his book with a look of mild disinterest, “Really? I never look at who I’m with, I just turn up and try to get through it,”

Lewis hums in agreement, “Same, it’ll be nice to be together though. Hopefully make it a bit more interesting. They’re such a drag normally, man,”

Charles shrugs his shoulders and leans back on the pillow to send a selfie in the Twitch group chat, “I only check so I know if I’ll be with Max,”

“Is that so you can prepare yourself to scare him off?” Sebastian asks on laugh which only gets louder at the look of annoyance on the younger man’s face.

“Yes! He is my rival after all,” Charles snaps, growling when his boyfriend’s laugh, “Why is that so funny?”

Lewis calms his laughter and looks at his boyfriend with as much of a straight face as he can muster when he’s seconds away from laughing again, “Charlie, you’re the least intimidating person I’ve ever met. Even Yuki is scarier and he’s like five foot tall,”

“I can be intimidating!” The Monegasque protests, schooling his features and glaring between the older men.

Sebastian places his book on the side table and arches an eyebrow, “Is that supposed to be intimidating? Because you just look like a kid who’s been told they’re not allowed to have anymore sweets,”

Charles groans and lowers himself in the bed so he’s lying down, folding his arms behind his head, “What does that even mean?”

Lewis leans on his elbow and looks down at him on a smile, running his fingers across the hairless chest, “It means you’re too cute to look intimidating. That’s not a bad thing though. It’s why you were voted the best looking driver in that twitter poll F1 did,”

Charles huffs out a breath and moves his forearm to cover his eyes before mumbling, “I don’t care about that stupid poll,”

Sebastian snorts and pokes him in the side, “You went on about it for weeks! You even had the cheek to tell me and Lewis we should be nicer to you or you’ll find someone better,”

Charles smiles sheepishly and sits back up to lean over Lewis and place his phone on charge, “I don’t think I said that,”

Lewis takes his phone and grabs the charger chord when Charles can’t reach to get it, before turning back to him a faux glare, “You definitely did say it, and you were drunk only one of the times,”

Charles smirks as he rolls over in the bed his cheek resting on the pillow, and closes his eyes, “Well obviously neither of you listened. You two are just lucky you get to share a bed with the best looking driver,”

“The most arrogant too,” Sebastian comments dryly.

Lewis scoffs, “Lucky to have you kicking me in your sleep the whole night?”

“Well looking at how many votes I got in that poll I’m sure there’s plenty of other people that wouldn’t mind me kicking them all night,”

“Unless you want me to kick you out of your own hotel room you should probably shut up now,” Sebastian warns, tugging at Charles’ hair.

“No need to be jealous - you were both top five, that’s not bad for middle aged men,”

Charles squints one eye open when neither men reply, worrying the teasing has gone too far. He’s met with two glares.

“Fuck, don’t,” He giggles, pushing off their attacking fingers from his sides, “I’m too tired,”

“Go to sleep then and shut your mouth,” Lewis grins, lying down next to him and throwing an arm over his back.

Sebastian turns off the light and lowers himself in the bed, resting an arm over the younger man’s back and grasping Lewis’ hand.

“Maybe the press conference tomorrow will be fun,” He glees, grinning over at Lewis and pressing a kiss to Charles’ back when he groans.

By the time they’ve woken each other up properly the next morning they’re all running late and head straight to the press conference.

Charles excuses himself to go to the toilet on the walk over, only causing Lewis and Sebastian to roll their eyes and tell him he should go to a doctor about his child like bladder.

He rushes back to the media room mumbling apologies, and smirks when the only seat left is the one between Lewis and Sebastian.

“Charles, thank you for joining us. Is everyone ready to start?”

Everyone nods and they answer the same questions they do every week.

How well suited is the car to this track?

How is the atmosphere in the garage after last week?

Are you confident you can get the most out of the car this weekend?

Charles smirks over at Lewis as Fernando is answering a question and the older man lifts a hand in front of his face to mouth you look very intimidating.

Charles rolls his eyes and Sebastian swallows a laugh, playing it off as a cough.

“Andrew Harper, BBC. Lewis, Sebastian, four years ago when Charles was a 20 year old rookie in Sauber, you were asked if you had any advice for him. He’s now leading the championship and leading one of the top teams, has your advice for him changed?”

The question causes the three of them to flick their heads back to the reporters.

“Sebastian, let’s start with you,”

Charles smirks over at his boyfriend trying to catch his eye but the German is looking down at the microphone in his hand on a soft smile.

“I can’t actually remember what advice I gave Charles four years ago but I’m sure it was similar to what I used to tell him when we were teammates. As for now, I don’t think there’s anything I can tell Charles that he doesn’t already know. He’s proven race after race that he’s quick and he’s got the mentality of a champion. He’s going to be the man of the future and I’m looking forward to seeing him go onto win many championships,”

Sebastian drops the microphone to his lap and shoots a smile at the younger man next to him.

“Thank you, Sebastian. Lewis, any advice for the young man to your right?”

“I agree with Seb, I don’t think there’s anything we can advise Charles on at this point. He’s having an awesome season. Anyway, Charlie -“

Charles shoots his eyes to the older man at the slip up. Lewis and Sebastian are the only people that ever call him Charlie. They’re also the only people he’d let call him that.

Lewis clears his throat on a sheepish smile, “Charles, sorry. Charles knows that if he ever does need advice he can come to us. We’re always willing to help out the younger drivers,”

The press conference finishes after a few more questions that Charles does his best to answer whilst trying not to panic that people will have caught on to Lewis’ mistake.

As soon as the conference finishes they all filter out of the room and back to their garages to prep for FP1.

Lewis sends a message in their group chat apologising for using their nickname for him - Charles and Sebastian reply telling him it doesn’t matter and they don’t think anyone noticed.

After a successful but tiring day of strategy talk and track laps Charles opens his hotel suite door not surprised to find Lewis and Sebastian already sitting on the sofa watching TV.

“Hey, how’s the car looking?” He asks leaning against the doorway on a smile.

Sebastian grimaces, “We’ve got improvements to make,”

Lewis nods in agreement, “We’ve got a whole list of improvements to make, man. You looked good at practice. Is it going to be your seventh pole in a row tomorrow?”

He shrugs his shoulders on a smirk, “We’ll see how it goes. Max is looking quick too,”

“You’re quicker. Come here, Charlie. I want a cuddle from the best looking driver,” Lewis teases, holding out his arms.

Charles grins and moves over the sofa, dropping onto Lewis’ lap and snuggling into his chest.

“Lew,” He mumbles on a smirk after a few minutes of them silently watching the TV.

“What’s up Charlie?”

Charles raises his head and grins at the older man, “Do you remember how you always said it would be me that outed us because I’ve got a big mouth? I think you owe me an apology,”

Lewis snorts and pushes the younger man off his lap and onto Sebastian’s who grunts at the weight before wrapping his arms around the slim body.

“Shut up, Charlie. I didn’t out us. No one has even said anything. I still think it’ll be you that does it,”

“It’ll definitely be you, Charlie. I’m always prepared to walk into the garage and have everyone in my face because you’ve fucked up in an interview,” Sebastian teases, “Luckily for you, Lewis and I will always be around to get you out of trouble,”

Charles huffs out a breath on an affronted look, “How has Lewis messing up in a press conference come back to you two targeting me again?”

“Because you’re our little menace,” Lewis replies as if it’s obvious.

Charles doesn’t get a chance to retort because the two older men shift him between them and start pressing soft kisses to his neck.
_______________________________________________

“We need to see him!” Charles yells, slamming his hand down on the nurses desk. 

The elderly nurse shakes her head, not looking up from the computer, “I’ve told you already, young man, it’s family only. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow during visiting hours,” 

Lewis pulls his boyfriend back, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “Stop it, Charlie. We’ll come back tomorrow. Mike has said that he’s fine and it’s just a concussion. He’s asleep now anyway,” 

Lewis is sounding a lot calmer than he’s feeling. When Toto had informed him after the race that Sebastian’s spin into the wall had ended up with him being taken to the hospital, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

Sebastian is his anchor. His heart. The danger of the sport washes over most drivers until they are faced with it in the worst way.

The only reassurance he’s had all evening is from Sebastian’s team principal who spoke with the doctors and confirmed Sebastian suffered a mild concussion and is only being kept overnight as a precaution. 

It’s times like this that he wishes their relationship was public. Not being able to go and see his boyfriend because he’s not family is enough punishment in itself. Sebastian and Charles are his family.

“I can’t go until I’ve seen him,” Charles cries, and Lewis doesn’t miss the curious glances from some of the Aston Martin engineers. 

This was not the place for Charles to be having a breakdown, it’d only end with them outing their relationship. 

He pulls the younger man into his side and over to Mick, “I’m taking him back to the hotel. You should go too. They’re not letting anyone in to see him,” 

Mick stands up on a frown, “He’s going to be okay right?” 

Charles looks up too, and Lewis finds himself faced with two pairs of wide, young eyes looking at him as if he had all the answers. 

He doesn’t have all the answers. He’s just as scared but he’ll be brave for the younger men. He’ll be brave for Charles.

The two young men looked ready to fall. They would collapse to the earth and he would be the one that needs to catch them.

He had to be able to hold Charles up as the walls came crashing down. He had to be able to do that for him.

“He’s going to be fine. It’s just a concussion, I’ve had one loads of times,” He assures them. He has had a concussion before but when it’s the man he loves everything just seems scarier. 

“Go back to your hotel, Mick,” He reinforces, before guiding his boyfriend off the ward. 

Charles isn’t saying a word - snivelling and rubbing at his teary eyes - as they approach the Mercedes he’s been given to use for the week in Mexico. 

“Charlie, Seb is going to be fine. You know how stubborn he is. We’ll go and see him tomorrow, okay?” He promises on a soft smile as he gently pushes the younger man into the passenger seat. 

Charles looks over at him and all Lewis can see is the frail teenager he hugged at Jules’ funeral. He hadn’t even known Charles then but the boy had been standing there, stoic and strong, trying to stop the tears falling. 

He looked just as broken then as he does now.

“I’m scared,” Charles mumbles, leaning his head against the window. 

Lewis squeezes his knee and smiles, “I’ll look after you, Charlie. You don’t need to be scared,” 

Neither of them really sleep much. Charles wakes up every half an hour, sweating and screaming out Sebastian’s name, sometimes Jules’, and Lewis hugs him close, willing him to go back to sleep. 

He never takes his eyes off his boyfriend, watching his chest rise and fall, waiting for the inevitable moment he’ll sit up and scream the room down. 

Eventually he can feel his eyes blinking shut, and the soft breaths escaping Charles’ mouth act as a lullaby. 

Lewis wakes up when he feels the bed creak again. He opens his eyes ready to whisper soothing words to Charles so he can fall asleep again, but almost falls out of the bed when he sees Sebastian. 

“Seb! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital! Do the doctors know you’ve left?” He hisses, rubbing at his eyes to make sure it’s not a dream. 

Sebastian chuckles and pulls him into a tight hug, cautiously manoeuvring over the sleeping body between them. He presses a kiss to Lewis’ lips and cups his cheek, “I was discharged this morning, I’m fine, Lew,” 

“This morning? What time is it? We were going to come and see you!” Lewis babbles, grabbing for his phone off the side table. 

He gapes at the time on the phone, “Shit, Seb! I’m so sorry! I had no idea it was so late! We didn’t get to sleep until like 5am,” 

“Lewis it’s fine, I figured you guys probably hadn’t slept at all last night,” Sebastian replies on narrowed eyes, “You still look like you haven’t. Was it a rough night?” 

Lewis huffs a breath of air and wipes a hand down his face, “You know how Charles is after a crash. He was crying all night and then whenever he eventually fell asleep he’d wake up screaming from a nightmare,” 

Sebastian gives him a sympathetic smile, strokes a hand through Charles’ messy hair, “I hate worrying him like that. I know he only thinks of Jules and Anthoine,” 

“Shut up, Seb,” Lewis snaps. It’s so like Sebastian to only ever worry about everyone else whilst he was the one in a hospital bed. “We were fine. I’m just so glad you’re okay. I love you so much,” 

“I love you too, Lew. Who won the race by the way?” 

Lewis rolls his eyes and tilts his head down between them, “Who do you think? As soon as he was off the podium, he was dragging me into the car to get to the hospital,” 

“Oh so you had to be dragged to come and see me?” Sebastian asks with an arched eyebrow. 

“Shut up, obviously I was going to come straight away. Mike had already told me you were okay though and I was trying to keep Charlie from having a breakdown in front of your team,” 

The German grimaces, “Ah yeah. Do you think they suspected anything? No one has said anything to me,” 

“No, we’re fine. They all know you and Charles are close. I think they put the reaction down to that,” 

“Let’s go back to sleep. You look like shit,” Sebastian comments on a smirk, stroking his fingers over the eye bags under Lewis’ eyes. 

The Brit snorts and slaps his hands away, “Thanks for that. You don’t look much better,” He replies, lying back down in the bed once Sebastian is snuggled into Charles’ side. 

“He’s going to freak out when he wakes up and you’re next to him. I hope you’re prepared to be woken up with an arm full of Charlie and screaming in your ear,”

Sebastian leans up on one arm and smiles softly, “That sounds like a pretty good way to wake up actually. Go to sleep, sweetheart,” 

Lewis rests an arm over the boy’s back and grasps the German’s hand, “I love you,” He mumbles sleepily. Sebastian presses a kiss to his cheek and whispers the words back. 

“Seb! What the fuck!” The loud screech drags Lewis out of a peaceful sleep and he opens his eyes to see Charles kneeling in the middle of the bed, gaping at their boyfriend. 

Sebastian must have been up for a while because he’s sat up in bed reading his book. He opens his arms and pulls the younger man into his lap, “Morning Charlie,” 

Charles grips onto him and his body starts trembling with tears, “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital,” 

Sebastian drags a soothing hand down his back and presses a kiss to his cheek, “I got discharged this morning. I’m fine, sweetheart,” 

The Monegasque pulls back and rests his hands on the man’s cheeks, “I was so scared, Seb. I thought - I thought,” His words trail off into small hiccups. 

“Shhh, Charlie. I’m alright, I promise,” Sebastian pulls him back into his chest, carding a hand through his hair, “I’d never leave you, you know that. It wouldn’t be very fair for me to leave Lewis to put up with you all alone would it?” 

Lewis snorts and Sebastian looks over at him realising he’s awake, “Morning Lew, you’re looking a lot better now than you did earlier,”

Charles shuffles around in Sebastian’s lap to glare at the oldest man, “Why didn’t you wake me up when Seb got here?” 

“Because you’d only been asleep for about half an hour after screaming the room down all night and I wanted to make sure you actually got some sleep,” Lewis replies gently, pressing a chaste kiss to Charles’ ankle.

“What are we going to do with you, Charlie?” Sebastian muses, resting his chin on the younger man’s shoulder and tightening his grip around his waist. 

Charles leans his head back and looks up at his boyfriend with a grin, “Make me pancakes?” 

“Considering I was the one in hospital last night shouldn’t I be the one getting made pancakes?” 

Charles looks over at Lewis on a smirk, and the oldest man just shrugs his shoulders on a grin, “That doesn’t seem like a good enough reason to me,” 

Sebastian scoffs and kicks him in the leg, only making the Brit laugh. 

“Doesn’t seem like a good reason to me either,” Charles agrees on a grin. 

Sebastian’s fingers dig into the younger man’s sides and Charles giggles, squirming in his lap, “Stop! Lewis said it first!” 

“And? I don’t think that matters,” Sebastian replies on a grin, moving his fingers up to the younger man’s ribs. 

“Lewis! Make him stop!” Charles begs through laughter, trying to push the attacking hands away. 

Lewis stands up from the bed and smiles down at them, “Nah, I’m going to make some pancakes,” He calls, heading out of the room and looking back at them fondly. 

The ache he was feeling in his chest last night after leaving the hospital is non existent as he watches the two people he loves more than anything laughing together. 

Chapter Text

Lewis has had bad days before. He’s had days when it feels like nothing is going his way; the car breaks, his teammate beats him, and social media is alight with endless criticism.

Today is one of those days. His race had ended up with a DNF and any hope he had of crawling his way up to the championship fight had been blown up in smoke the same way his car did earlier.

As if things couldn’t get any worse he’d missed the flight he was supposed to be catching with Sebastian and Charles back to Switzerland.

He’d text in their group chat letting his boyfriends know that he wouldn’t be able to get the flight. Sebastian had sent a blunt reply back but said he would pick him up at the airport when he arrived later that night.

Sebastian was also having a bad day. The upgrades they brought to the car have made no difference and he finished at the back of the grid. It didn’t help his poor mood to have an elated Charles next to him on the flight still on a high from his win.

He’s exhausted and all he wants is to be in bed watching some shitty tv show. Instead he’s pulling up into the airport at 10pm because his idiot boyfriend had missed their flight earlier.

At least Charles had been preoccupied with steaming so he didn’t have to engage in conversation with anyone on the drive over.

He spots Lewis walking over and looking just as pissed off at the day as he felt. He’s not sure why he takes comfort in that - probably because this is the last place he wants to be too.

“Hey,” Lewis mumbles, stepping into the car after shoving his suitcase into the boot.

Sebastian glances over at him and tries to keep his cool. He knows that Lewis hadn’t finished the race and he would be in a bad mood - he’s in a bad mood too though.

“Lewis,” He mutters in greeting, pulling out of the car park. They don’t kiss, they don’t hold hands. Both of them are deep in their own heads.

The journey is silent for the first few minutes until Lewis sighs and rests his head on the window, “Sometimes I just feel like I might as well retire now,”

Sebastian wants to groan. This is not the conversation he wants to be having right now. He knows he should comfort Lewis. He should remind him that just because this season isn’t going his way doesn’t mean the next won’t. He should tell him that this year will only make his eighth championship more rewarding.

He doesn’t though because he’s just as fed up at himself and his team as Lewis is with his own.

“Retire then,” He retorts, keeping his eyes on the road even when he feels Lewis glaring at him.

“What?” Lewis questions, the harsh tone of his voice cutting through the atmosphere.

Sebastian glances at him and notes the subdued annoyance in the man’s dark eyes, not failing to miss the heavy eye bags too.

“If you want to retire then retire. You’re the only one that can make that decision,”

“Seriously, man? You’re saying I should retire? So all that spiel you normally give me about things getting better just doesn’t apply anymore?”

Lewis’ raised voice causes Sebastian to release a long breath. He’s too tired to argue but he hates when Lewis does that. He’s hates when Lewis twists his words.

“You said you should retire and all I’m saying is if you think that’s for the best then do it,”

Lewis scoffs and turns in the seat to stare at him. He flicks his gaze to look at him quickly before turning back to the road - it’s dark and the rainy streets need his full attention.

“Why are you being such a dick? Is it because I missed my flight? It wasn’t my fault, my meeting ran late!”

And that is enough to make him see red - because of course Lewis Hamilton is so self obsessed that he assumes his bad mood can only be due to him.

“I don’t care that it wasn’t your fault! I don’t care that you missed your flight! I do care about having to drive 20 minutes to come and pick you up when all I want is to be in bed!”

“You didn’t have to! I’m sorry that I’m such an inconvenience to you,” Lewis spits, “I was perfectly happy to go back to my house but you insisted on me coming to Switzerland! If you didn’t want to pick me up then why would you offer?”

He offered because he loves Lewis and he wanted to fall asleep next to his boyfriend knowing it would soften the blow of his terrible day.

He realises now though that his terrible day might just get worse.

It’s not often that he and Lewis argued. They were both more likely to argue with Charles relying on the other to act as the peacekeeper.

The last time they argued was so long ago that he can’t even remember what it was about. They’re both mature and reasonable so when they do disagree on something normally they can discuss it and come to an agreement.

Tonight though when they’re both reeling from their respectively poor days and exhausted from a brutal race; it’s the recipe for disaster.

“I wanted you to come because I thought that you’d be in a better mood! If I knew you were going to be like this then I would have told you to go home!”

Lewis laughs bitterly and kicks his legs up onto the dashboard. It’s a petty move because he knows it drives Sebastian up the wall.

The red mist that shines in Sebastian’s eyes only encourages him. He’d hoped he’d be able to come back to Sebastian’s house and let the two younger men indulge him after the day from hell.

Sebastian and Charles would tell him there’s nothing he could have done any better and he’ll come back stronger next year. The reassuring words would have been enough to allow him to fall asleep peacefully in their arms.

Apparently that won’t be the case though because Sebastian seems to be in just as horrible a mood as him. He’s fine with that - the adrenaline from the race is still lingering in his blood and he’s open to taking out his frustration in an argument.

“Get your fucking feet down,” Sebastian growls, grabbing at his legs with one hand whilst the other keeps the steering wheel sturdy.

“No,” He quips, smirking at the heated look in the man’s eyes, “I’ve had a shit day and I want to be comfy,”

“You’re acting like a child. You’re so fucking selfish,”

Lewis drops his legs to the floor and shifts in his seat, scowling at the younger man. “Selfish? How the fuck am I selfish? If I was selfish then I would have just gone home but instead I came to you because you asked me to!”

Sebastian pulls up in front of the house and stops the car. Lewis’ eyes widen in surprise - he hadn’t even realised they’d been close to the house.

The German turns to face him fully and normally the look on his boyfriend’s face would result in him soothing the man with hushed whispers of love but this time it just enrages him further.

“You’re selfish because everything is always about you! You’ve had a shit day so everyone else has to suffer through it too! My day hasn’t been great either, Lewis! Not that you care!”

Lewis isn’t selfish. He knows he’s not selfish. He gives more money to charity than any other driver. He uses his platform for good. He treats Sebastian and Charles like they’re kings. Lewis Hamilton is not fucking selfish.

The ferociousness that Sebastian hurled the words with though feels like a knife to the chest.

“You’re used to having bad days! You’ve been having bad races for two years! Don’t blame me because Charles joined Ferrari and you were kicked off the team for not being good enough!”

It’s harsh and unfair. It’s not even true. He hates the way that Ferrari treated Sebastian and if it wasn’t for Charles then he’d no longer be a Ferrari fan.

Still he knows that it’ll hurt the younger man and right now that’s all he wants.

“Fuck you, Lewis,” Sebastian hisses, stepping out of the car and stalking off to the house - not even bothering to help with the bags and suitcase.

Lewis watches him go and feels the rage burning inside of him. He leaps out of the car and retrieves his luggage before stomping after his boyfriend.

The house is quiet when he walks in and Sebastian has already collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the blank tv.

“Where’s Charles?”

Sebastian doesn’t acknowledge him but he hears the muttered reply of, “Streaming,”

He drops his bags at the bottom of the stairs, knowing it’ll annoy his boyfriend because he hates having clutter around the house.

“I’m starving, did you two already eat?”

“Yes. We ate hours ago,”

Lewis snorts and leans against the doorway narrowing his eyes on the back of the blonde’s head, “Thanks for waiting for me,”

Sebastian turns around on the sofa and arches an eyebrow, “We weren’t going to wait for you to get back. If you got the flight back with us like we all agreed then we could have eaten together. I assumed you’d eat on the plane,”

“Has me missing my flight really pissed you off this much? My meeting ran late! There was nothing I could do!”

Sebastian’s anger spikes and he edges off the sofa, storming over to stand in front of the older man, shooting heated eyes at him. “It’s not about the fucking flight! It’s about you being a selfish asshole! I don’t know why I expected anything different though. You’ve always been like this!”

Lewis lurches forward and he can feel Sebastian’s warm breath on his cheek and he can pick apart every shade of blue in the man’s eyes.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m selfish because I’ve had a shit day and I’m not dancing around after a DNF?!”

They stare at each other - blue eyes meeting brown. It’s the first argument they’ve had in months. Lewis almost forgot how tiring it is to argue with Sebastian. The man is more stubborn than anyone he’s ever met. This could go on all night.

“What’s going on?”

Charles’ nervous voice interrupts them and they turn to find their boyfriend standing on the bottom step of the stairs looking between them hesitantly.

It’s almost enough to make Lewis apologise to Sebastian even though he’s certain he’s not in the wrong. He knows that Charles hates when they argue.

It’s almost enough but it’s not enough - not when Sebastian glances back at him with the same look of fury he had before Charles came down. If he isn’t going to comfort their boyfriend then Lewis won’t either.

“Seb? Lewis? Why are you two arguing?”

Sebastian averts his gaze back to the youngest man, “Because Lewis is acting like the whole world revolves around him and we are supposed to just bow down at his feet when something doesn’t go his way,”

The comment lights a fire in Lewis’ chest and he shoves his hands into the younger man’s chest, molten anger rolling through him, “Fuck off, Seb! I don’t think that! You’ve been in a bad mood since you picked me up and you’re taking it out on me!”

Sebastian stumbles slightly and pinpoints his eyes back on the older man’s, before grabbing him by the collar of his t-shirt, “I am taking it out on you because you’ve not even bothered to ask me about my day! You think just because you’ve had a shit day that no one else can have one too!”

Charles pushes between them, pulling Sebastian off Lewis and separating them on a frown, “Stop it. You’re both allowed to have bad days but you don’t need to argue about it. I hate when you two argue,”

Sebastian snorts and pushes Charles’ hand that’s resting on his chest off, “I don’t care if you hate when we argue, Charles! People argue sometimes and you’re not some little kid that we have to protect from it! Grow the fuck up and stop being so immature! You’re so pathetic sometimes,” Sebastian snaps, running a hand through his curls and shaking his head.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth he regrets them, especially when he looks up to see the look of hurt on the youngest man’s face.

It’s not even Charles he’s annoyed at but the frustration from the day has pushed him to the point where he can’t gather the patience to reassure the younger man.

“I know that you and Lewis argue sometimes, Seb. I just don’t think now is the right time for you to be doing it. You’re both tired and angry,” Charles mumbles, dropping his hand from Lewis’ chest, “I was in the middle of a game with Lando. He’s waiting for me. I’m sorry about both your races,”

The older men watch him walk back up the stairs. Lewis looks back at the German who is now leaning against the wall, with his eyes closed.

“That was harsh, Seb,”

Sebastian opens his eyes and the fire that had been burning in them before has been replaced with dull exhaustion.

“I know,” He sighs, “I’ve just had a shit day. I didn’t mean to take it out on him,” He hesitates then grimaces, “I didn’t mean to take it out on you either,”

Lewis smiles slightly and shrugs his shoulders, “I should have asked you about it. I’m not selfish, Seb, but it’s hard to have sympathy for other people when you’re angry for yourself,”

“I know you’re not selfish,” Sebastian agrees quickly, “I think we should just go to bed. Our emotions are running high and nothing good will come out of this,”

Lewis reaches his hand out to squeeze the younger man’s shoulder, “I shouldn’t have brought up Ferrari. That was uncalled for,”

Sebastian huffs out a laugh, “It was true. I think we should probably just come to terms with the idea that we’ll probably have more bad races than good ones this year,”

Lewis pulls the man into a tight embrace tilting his head to press a deep kiss to his lips, “I love you, Seb. I don’t like arguing with you. You’re too important to me,”

“I love you too, Lew. Let’s go to bed and hopefully when we wake up everything will feel better,” Sebastian replies before pulling away on a frown, “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”

Lewis smiles and caresses his thumb over the man’s cheek. This man who loves him more than anything. This man who he loves more than anything.

“No, let’s go to bed. I’m not that hungry anymore. You can just make me extra pancakes in the morning,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly and kisses his boyfriend’s plump lips, “Anything for you,”

“You should apologise to Charles. I’m way too tired to mediate between an argument with you two. Sometimes I don’t know how Mattia put up with you two as teammates for so long,”

Sebastian snorts and rests their foreheads together, “Trust me, he didn’t put up with it. Our debriefs were always hours long. I’ll apologise though. He didn’t deserve that,”

He lets Lewis lead him up the stairs and they stand at the door of what Charles has converted into a version of a gaming room, listening to see if he’s still streaming.

When there’s no noise Sebastian slowly pushes the door open and sees Charles sitting in his gaming chair, scrolling down his phone with his headphones off.

The Monegasque looks up on a frown his eyes darting between them, “Have you two made up now?”

“Yes. We realised we were both just tired after a bad day,” Sebastian informs him on a small smile, “I’m sorry for shouting at you, Charlie. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I didn’t mean what I said,”

Charles shrugs his shoulders on a sheepish smile, “I don’t like you two arguing because I don’t like seeing either of you upset, it’s not because I’m pathetic and immature,”

Sebastian grimaces at the reminder of the heated words. “I know that, Charlie. I didn’t mean it, honestly. I love you, you know that,”

“I do,” Charles breathes, standing up and smiling at them, “I’m just glad you two have made up. I’m going to have another game with Lando and George in a minute. You two should go to sleep,”

Lewis nudges Sebastian out of the way and wraps his arms around the youngest man, “Congratulations for today, Charlie. I should have said it earlier,”

Charles pulls back on a frown, “You DNF’d. You don’t need to be happy for me,”

Lewis smiles and cups the boy’s cheek, “I do and I am. You drove an incredible race. I’m so proud of you and I love you, sweetheart,” He promises, pressing a kiss to his soft lips.

“Thank you,” Charles mumbles into his mouth before stepping back on narrowed eyes, “You two need to get out of here before I start streaming again. I’ll come to bed in a bit,”

“Don’t stay up too long, Charlie. You’ve had a long day too,” Sebastian reminds him on an arched eyebrow, stepping closer to kiss him.

They rush out of the door when Charles gets a text from George telling him they’re about to stream.

Lewis watches Sebastian get undressed and listens to Charles shouting through the walls at something Lando has done on their game; there’s nobody else he’d rather spend his bad days with.
_______________________________________________

Charles doesn’t turn around when he hears his drivers room door open - expecting it to be Carlos coming to get him for a Ferrari post race video.

He lets out a yelp of surprise when he’s harshly grabbed by the arm and shoved up against the wall.

Brown eyes glare at him. Lewis’ eyes. The older man looks ready to murder someone and he’s pretty sure that someone is him.

“What the fuck was that?” Lewis yells, using all his weight to keep Charles secured against the wall.

Charles looks down at him on a frown, thankful for the two inches he has on the man because sometimes he forgets that Lewis is actually a lot stronger than him. At least he has height.

“What was what?” He questions, although he already knows.

As soon as he’d pushed Lewis wide when they were both competing for P2 he knew it would end like this.

Lewis growls and pushes his arm deeper against his chest, making Charles groan in pain. Something flashes in the older man’s eyes and he takes off some of his weight.

“Don’t play dumb, Charles. You pushed me off the track! That was a dirty move! You know it was!”

Charles levels him with a stare, trying to keep his face neutral, “It was just racing, Lewis,”

Lewis snorts and steps back on a shake of the head. Their eyes meet in the mirror and Charles has to avert his gaze because if looks could kill he’d be dead on the floor.

“That was about to be my best race of the season until you pushed me off the track and George overtook me!”

Charles shrugs his shoulders, still avoiding his boyfriend’s eyes. He’s struggling to sympathise with the older man. As far as he can tell they’d been racing for a position and he was quicker.

There’s a part of him that is upset for Lewis losing out on two positions because he could have ended up on the podium, but there’s no way he’s taking responsibility for that.

“I wanted the win and I won. That’s all that happened, Lewis. I was quicker than you. It wasn’t personal,”

Lewis flips around and Charles has to force himself to maintain eye contact because the look his boyfriend is giving him is enough to make him wither on the spot.

“I’d fucking hope it wasn’t personal,” Lewis spits, “Is this really how you want to win your first championship? Dirty moves? People won’t respect you for it, Charles,”

Irritation surges inside him and the anger curls hot and unstoppable in his gut, like a blazing inferno that wants to burn him from the inside out.

“Fuck off, Lewis,” He snarls, “It was racing, that’s it. You’ve made some questionable moves in your career too. Don’t act all innocent just because you haven’t had a chance to compete this year,”

“Don’t turn this around on me, Charles! I could have won! My first win of the season and you took it from me!”

A look of bitterness sweeps across Charles’ face and he can feel his muscles growing tense, “You had no chance of winning, Lewis. I was a lot quicker than you. You would have got P2 at best. P4 is good anyway, you should be happy with that,”

It’s condescending but he doesn’t care, not even when Lewis steps toward him threateningly.

“You’re such an arrogant little fuck! You were not that much quicker than me! I was going to overtake you and you pushed me wide! Just admit it! Admit you were that desperate for the win that you deliberately ruined my race!” Lewis’ voice is so loud, so thunderous, that Charles can’t concentrate on what he said. He’s become a different person. His eyes have warped into a miserable black.

The door swings open but neither of them acknowledge it. They gaze intently at each other only inches apart, shooting scorching glares.

“Everyone can hear you two!” Sebastian hisses, slamming the door shut and cautiously taking a step towards them, “This isn’t the place for you two to be sorting this out,”

Lewis’ mouth twists wryly and his eyes glow with a savage fire, “There’s nothing to sort out. Charles is in the wrong but he’ll never admit it. If this is how he wants to become a champion then let him,”

Charles easily holds the unwavering glare directed at him as he scoffs on a roll of the eyes, “Please, Lewis, you’re being dramatic. If anyone else had pulled that move you wouldn’t think anything of it. Do you expect me to go easier on you because we are together?”

“I expect you to not force me off a track just because I was about to overtake you!”

“You were not about to overtake me!” Charles roars, face flushing in rage, before his expression turns brisk and his media mask takes over, “I won’t apologise, Lewis. We were racing and you ended up going wide. It’s happened to me before. That’s just how it goes sometimes,”

The anger on Lewis’ face becomes an effigy of contempt and the muscles in his jaw flick angrily, “You’re just as bad as Max. You’re aggressive and you shouldn’t be on the track if you can’t race fair. This isn’t karting, Charles,”

Sebastian watches the pinched look on Charles’ face switch into a predatory expression and grasps him by the upper arm, “Calm down, Charlie,” He warns, before turning to the oldest man.

“Lewis, let’s go. This isn’t going to solve anything. Charlie, we’ll meet you at the airport,”

“I’m staying an extra night in the hotel. I’m going out with Carlos, Lando and Alex. I think I’ll be heading back to Monaco after that until the next race,”

He’d planned on going back to Switzerland tomorrow but the rush of adrenaline streaming through his body is making it impossible to think clearly.

The idea of spending any time with the man who has just insinuated he shouldn’t be in Formula 1 seems unthinkable too - even if that man is the love of his life.

Lewis’ muscles stiffen and his breaths grow thin, “You’re unbelievable sometimes. You’re going to avoid me for two weeks because I called you out for an unfair move? Does the race really mean more to you than spending time with us?”

Charles’ eyes widen slightly at the question and he tries to mask the layers of unsettling emotions shooting through his body.

“Don’t make me choose between you and racing, Lewis. Racing will always come out on top,”

Lewis and Sebastian’s faces cloud with a mixture of disapproval and disappointment and it makes Charles’ stomach twist in an uncomfortable way.

They are race drivers. Racing is their life. It’s selfish but that’s how they all live.

At least he thought so.

“Just for the record,” Lewis begins, his voice dropping into almost a whisper as he watches the younger man, “I’d always choose you. I’d choose you over anything,”

The Brit stalks past him and out of the room, leaving the door swinging on its hinges. Charles looks at Sebastian hesitantly and feels sick when he sees the look of betrayal on his face.

“Seb,” He pleads, “It’s always racing, you know that. Everything in our lives has been to get to this point,”

Sebastian shakes his head on a frown, “Racing isn’t everything, Charles. Maybe you haven’t realised it yet but in a few years you will and I just hope you haven’t pushed everyone away,”

An ache pushes against Charles’ chest and he can feel the murky dark feeling like he’s going to cry creeping up on him, “I love you and Lewis, you know that. What am I supposed to do? Not race against you? That’s impossible!”

“No, racing is our job but when you love someone you try to understand things from their point of view. Lewis’ race suffered because of the move you pulled and let’s be honest you know it wasn’t fair. You don’t have to apologise but you could have been more understanding,”

Silence falls between them as Sebastian’s words echo around the room. The older man forces a smile and cups his boyfriend’s cheek, “Congratulations on the win, Charlie. Have a good night tonight and stay safe. I expect to be seeing you in Switzerland tomorrow,” He hesitates then presses a kiss to Charles’ cheek, “I love you so much, but I need to go and find Lewis,”

Charles watches him leave and is left alone with the realisation that he might have just hurt the two people he swore he’d never cause pain.

The lump in his throat becomes unavoidable and he tries to blink away the tears that start to drip onto his cheek.

As he drops to his knees everything that just happened replays in his mind. He’s never really thought about it before; whether he would choose Lewis and Sebastian over racing. It’s not something he hopes to ever have to do.

The knowledge that Lewis and Sebastian would choose him though makes him question himself. If he had to imagine the rest of his life would he be happier with them by his side or would be happier racing on the track?

The conflicting memories of lazy mornings with his boyfriends and standing on the top of the podium battle against each other in his head.

He wouldn’t always have racing. Formula 1 has an expiry date. It’s the kind of sport that will make you feel old before your time. A sport that will banish you after over a decade of success in favour of new talent.

He’s still the new talent now but he knows he won’t always be. He’s seen the toll the younger drivers have had on Sebastian and Lewis. Would he want to go through that alone?

Would he choose them over everything else?

Charles jumps up to his feet and sprints out of the door, pelting across the paddock ignoring the shouted congratulations coming from every direction.

Mercedes’ workers watch him in confusion as he blurs past them and barrels into their stars’ room.

He closes the door behind him and looks across at Lewis wrapped in Sebastian’s arms on the sofa. They look at him warily and he smiles, scrubbing a tear from his cheek.

“I’d always choose you too. I won’t apologise for the race, but I’m sorry it didn’t end the way you wanted. If I had to choose between the both of you and racing, it’d be you. It’ll always be you,”

The older men shuffle around on the sofa and make a space between them.

“I love you, Charlie. I don’t need you to apologise. I just need you,” Lewis assures him on a soft smile, holding out his arms.
_______________________________________________

Lewis sips at his cocktail. It’s fruity enough that he can’t taste the alcohol and he knows it’ll only take a couple more until he’s feeling a pleasant buzz.

Jenson leans back in the booth eyeing him and Sebastian, “I heard a rumour that you two might be retiring at the end of next year, but that can’t be true because you’d tell me right?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly and gulps down the last few dregs of his beer, “We’d tell you before the media, yes. Nothing has been decided yet but we’ve discussed it,”

The Brit arches an eyebrow at them, “What does Charles think of it? Won’t he miss having you both around?”

The mention of Charles causes Lewis to stiffen. Their boyfriend hasn’t handled the idea that they might be retiring next year very well.

It’s led to countless, pointless arguments. Charles, who is still in the prime of his career can’t understand why they would want to retire.

He doesn’t get that after well over a decade in the sport, they are both ready to move onto different things.

To Charles that means they want to move on from him. That would never be the case but the younger man is still struggling to accept that.

He scans the packed bar looking for his boyfriend to make sure he’s not too drunk. Charles had ditched them within half an hour to go and dance with his friends. He’d already been on his way to tipsy by then and Lewis doesn’t doubt for a second that they’ve all been downing shots since.

Jenson scoffs when neither of them reply, “I’ll take that as he’s not handling it very well,”

Sebastian squeezes Lewis’ knee under the table - it’s all they can get away with in such a public place.

“He doesn’t understand. He wouldn’t though. Can you remember being his age and racing being everything?”

“Can I remember?” Jenson mocks in faux outrage, “I’m not that old, Seb, you little shit. Yes, I can remember. Surely though he understands that you two have been at this a lot longer than him and it’s time,”

Lewis shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t think it’s necessarily the retirement that he’s upset about. It’s the fact that we won’t all be racing together. He thinks we’ll grow apart,”

“Which is ridiculous,” Sebastian adds hastily, “He just needs time to process it. Anyway, it’s not set in stone yet. We are considering it though,”

They all turn when they hear shouting from behind them and some of the younger drivers crowded around.

“What are they all shouting about?” Jenson queries, leaning out of the booth and assessing the situation, “Oh shit, we should probably get over there,” He spits, jumping out of his seat.

Lewis and Sebastian share a puzzled look but follow after the older man, swearing under their breaths when the scene unfolds in front of their eyes.

Max has Charles pushed up against the wall with a hand wrapped around his throat. They’re slurring heated words into each other’s faces as Daniel, George, and Pierre pull the Dutchman off.

Sebastian and Lewis push between them all and stand in front of Charles.

“Back off, Max!” Lewis snaps, when the blonde tries to push his way back to Charles.

“Are you okay, Charlie? Did he hurt you?” Sebastian asks, running his fingers across the marks on his boyfriend’s neck and frowning.

Charles pushes him off, standing on his tip toes to glare over their heads at Max. Lewis grabs his arm to pull him back down, “Charlie, are you okay?”

“He attacked me because I beat him,” Charles slurs and the words are barely understandable. His accent is stronger and his breath reeks of vodka.

“Fuck sake, Charles. How much have you had to drink? We are leaving,” Lewis orders sternly, trying to slip an arm around his boyfriend who is stumbling on his feet and looks like he could collapse any minute.

Charles pushes him off and lunges between them trying to grab at Max, who grabs him by the collar of his shirt.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Sebastian seethes, gripping his boyfriend by the shoulders and pulling him away from his rival. “Anyone could see and the media would be all over you! Mattia and Christian would be the least of your troubles!”

“It’s him! It’s always been him!” Charles argues, “Fucking Crashstappen!”

Max growls and tries to grab at him again until Sebastian steps in his way, shoving him back into Daniel.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Max. You’ve already left bruises on his neck. Racing stays on the track. Don’t you ever hurt him again,”

Max stares at the floor rather than looking at the scowls being directed his way from Sebastian, Lewis and Jenson.

“Yeah fuck off, Verstappen,” Charles jeers, eyes widening when Lewis turns to him on a glare.

“Shut your mouth, Charles. You’re only making it worse,” He turns to Daniel who is trying to calm down his ex-teammate, “I think it’ll be best if everyone goes back to the hotel. We’ll take Charles. Can you get Max back?”

Daniel nods and looks over at Charles on a frown, “Are you alright, kid?”

Charles opens his mouth to reply, shooting a glare at Max, and Sebastian can tell it’s not going to help the situation.

“He’s fine,” Sebastian answers quickly, “He’s drunk but he’s okay. We’ll look after him. Just get Max out of here,”

Pierre appears by their sides, murmuring French words to Charles as he cards a hand through his hair.

Daniel nods and drags the Dutchman away. Sebastian and Lewis turn back to their boyfriend and both wrap an arm around his shoulders, “Let’s get you back to the hotel, Charlie. Are you sure you’re alright? Did he hurt you?”

Charles drunkenly grins up at Sebastian, “I’m fine, Seb. Let’s stay for another drink,”

Lewis snorts in amusement, “If you have another drink then you’ll pass out. We are leaving, Charlie,”

“Are you two going to be alright getting him back?” Jenson asks, ruffling Charles’ hair as he pouts.

“We’ll be fine, but come back to Charles’ hotel for a drink if you want. He’s got a nice suite and he’ll pass out within half an hour so we can hang out,”

Jenson shrugs his shoulders, “Yeah? Why not. I don’t fancy spending the rest of the night with the other kids anyway. They’ll only make me feel old,” He retorts, looking over at the young drivers who are already ordering more drinks at the bar.

Pierre is still looking concernedly at Charles and Sebastian squeezes his shoulder, “Do you want to come back for a drink?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll stay with these guys. Just make sure he’s okay,”

“Of course. Who started it by the way? Did Max actually attack Charles?”

Pierre sighs, “Max did push him first but Charles wasn’t helping himself. He’s too drunk and he was winding him up,”

Sebastian nods in understanding. He’s fully aware of how much of a relentless little shit Charles can be when he’s drinking.

It still doesn’t mean he’s not going to warn off Max when they are next on the paddock for the bruises he’s left on his boyfriend’s neck.

They lead Charles out of the bar, his entire body weight leaning between them as he stumbles along.

The bar is only a five minute walk from the hotel Ferrari are staying in and Sebastian hopes that the fresh air will be able sober the younger man up a bit.

It doesn’t seem to be working at the moment though.

“Fucking Max. He’s such a dickhead,” Charles babbles, tripping over nothing and giggling to himself.

Lewis and Sebastian share an unimpressed look and rearrange him between them so his feet are barely touching the floor as they walk.

“We’ve told you not to rise up to him, Charlie. The media are already all over your rivalry and you two getting photographed fighting will not help anything,” Lewis cautions.

“Max attacked me for no reason! He was just pissed off about the race,” Charles complains.

“It wasn’t for no reason, Charles. I know that you were antagonising him,” Sebastian retorts, raising his eyebrows when Charles looks at him on an affronted look, “No, don’t look at me like that. I know that’s what happened and I know what you’re like,”

They drag a pouting Charles up to his hotel suite. Lewis using his key to the room when Charles realises he’s lost his.

“Help yourself to a drink from the minibar, Jens,” Sebastian instructs, before leading a half passed out Charles into the bedroom with Lewis.

Charles collapses back onto the bed, trying to pull the duvet over him when Lewis pulls it back, “Charlie, get undressed first. Your shirt has vodka spilt all down it,”

Lewis rolls his eyes when the younger man mumbles something incoherent in return and snuggles into the bed.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Lewis says as he starts to pull off his boyfriend’s shoes and clothes.

Charles looks up at him through half lidded eyes on a soft smile, “Love you too, Lew,”

Lewis smiles as he undoes his boyfriend’s shirt, his fingers caressing the bruises along his neck as he does, “Fucking Verstappen. I could kill him,”

Sebastian walks back into the room with a large glass of water and places it on the bedside table then perches on the edge of the bed.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Charlie? Do you need anything?” He asks, reaching out his hand to grasp the younger man’s, running his thumb across the back of it.

“Just need you two,” Charles moans, shifting under the covers when Lewis holds them up for him to slide under.

“You’ve always got us, Charles. Go to sleep,” Lewis orders softly, leaning down to press a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

Charles whimpers and rests his forearm over his eyes, “You two are going to leave me,”

Lewis pulls the younger man’s arm down and smirks, “We are not going to leave you, Charles. We are going to be in the room next door with Jenson. You need to sleep this off,”

“Don’t retire next year,”

Lewis and Sebastian share a look and let out simultaneous sighs. Charles’ drunken accusation suddenly making a lot more sense. The vulnerable side of Charles isn’t one they normally get to see but it always appears when he’s had a drink.

Sebastian cards a hand through the Monegasque’s dark hair, “We’ve spoken about this, Charles. We’ve not decided anything yet and even if we do retire then nothing is going to change. We’ll always be here and we’ll still come to as many of your races as we can,”

When there’s no reply he looks down at the younger man’s face and smiles slightly when he sees he’s passed out.

The older men both press a chaste kiss to their boyfriend’s cheek before quietly walking out of the room, flicking off the lights as they leave.

“Is he alright?” Jenson asks from the sofa where he’s made himself a whiskey coke.

Lewis drops down into the chair next to him and Sebastian walks over to the mini bar to make them both a drink.

“He’s fine. He’s passed out. The bruises on his neck are going to be to hard to explain to Mattia though,” Lewis comments dryly, gratefully accepting the drink his boyfriend hands him.

Sebastian snorts and takes a seat next to Jenson, “It’s not the first time he’s had marks on his neck that he has to explain,”

Jenson crinkles his nose, “That’s way too much information. I didn’t realise things were that bad between Max and Charles. I thought they got on these days,”

Lewis waves a hand dismissively and sips at his drink, “They do most of the time. I think tonight was a one off because of what happened in the race and the alcohol,”

“It better have been a one off,” Sebastian mutters.

They quickly steer into more cheery conversation topics; Jenson telling them about how his kids are, Lewis and Sebastian discussing their plans for the winter break.

Once they’ve waved Jenson off Lewis and Sebastian make a plan to have a word with Max about what will happen if he ever lays hands on their boyfriend again. The issue of Charles’ reaction to their retirement isn’t mentioned. That’s a problem for another day.

-

Sebastian is leaning against a wall in the paddock after qualifying when he sees Max walking by with his press officer.

“Max!” He yells, beckoning the young driver over. Max looks at him on a frown but says something to his press officer and dawdles over.

Before Sebastian can get any words out, Max looks at the floor and starts mumbling, “I’m sorry about what happened last weekend. I was angry about the race and Charles was annoying me. We’ve been competing against each other for as long as I can remember but I’ve never hurt him and I really regret it,”

Sebastian arches an eyebrow at the apology. He was expecting Max to argue. Why was Charles never this quick to apologise?

“I know how Charles can be, Max, but it doesn’t excuse you grabbing him by the throat. He had bruises all up his neck. I’m sure you won’t but just know if you ever hurt him again you’ll have me and Lewis to deal with,”

Max nods solemnly and offers a tight lipped smile at Charles when he sees him walking over to them with a furrowed brow.

Charles approaches his boyfriend, glancing at Max as he walks away.

“What were you just saying to him? I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Seb. I can look after myself,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly and throws an arm around the younger man’s neck, “I know you can. I wasn’t saying anything. I was just congratulating him on his qualifying. Well done to you too, pole sitter,”

Charles looks at him as if he doesn’t quite believe him but doesn’t ask anymore questions, instead delving into an analysis of his pole lap as Sebastian listens intently on a smile.
_______________________________________________

Charles squints one eye open when he feels the bed shift and through the dark room can just about see Sebastian walking out of the bedroom.

He doesn’t think much of it assuming that his boyfriend is going to get a drink and snuggles back into Lewis’ side.

After ten minutes Sebastian still hasn’t returned to the bed and despite the exhaustion seeping through his body, Charles can’t get back to sleep without knowing what the older man is doing.

He plucks his phone off the side table and groans internally when he reads the time. What is Sebastian doing at 2.18am?

Before his body can give in to the tiredness he drags himself out of the bed, tripping on one of his trainers in the dark.

Now he gets why Lewis and Sebastian are always moaning at him for leaving his shoes scattered around.

He quickly checks all the spare rooms and bathrooms making sure Sebastian hadn’t gone into one of them before treading down the stairs.

Stopping at the doorway of the living room he finds Sebastian sitting cross legged in front of the glass doors leading out to the garden.

One of the lamps is turned on and he can make out the older man’s slumped position.

“Seb, what are you doing?” He asks groggily, sleep still evident in his voice.

The German jumps and turns back to him on a glare, “What are you doing, Charles? Don’t just creep up on people in the middle of the night,”

Charles smirks and crosses the room to his boyfriend, copying his position on the floor next to him. Sebastian isn’t looking at him but he can see the tear stains on his cheek under the dim light of the room.

“Seb, what’s -“

“What are you doing awake, Charlie? You need to fly to Maranello tomorrow. Go back up to bed,” Sebastian interrupts his question, still avoiding his eyes and looking out across the garden.

Charles shuffles closer to his boyfriend and wraps an arm around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his temple, “I’ll be fine. My flight isn’t until the afternoon. What’s wrong? Why are you up in the middle of the night and why are you crying?”

Sebastian turns his head to look at him on narrowed eyes, “I’m not crying. Go back to bed, Charles,” He hisses.

Charles arches an eyebrow because the man might not be crying right now but it’s obvious he has been.

“You have been crying though,” He points out, “What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

Sebastian’s face softens and he readjusts their positions so Charles is tucked under his arm and he can card a hand through his dark hair.

Charles’ assumption that he’s had a nightmare is strangely endearing. The younger man was prone to nightmares himself, occasionally waking up in the night screaming for Jules.

Sebastian has never suffered from them himself despite the horrors he’s witnessed on the track. The only nightmare he’s suffering from right now is his own shortcomings.

“No, I didn’t have a nightmare, Charlie. Did you? Why are you up? Do you want to talk about it?”

Sebastian scans his eyes across his boyfriend looking for the telltale signs he’s been woken up by his own dark thoughts. He hadn’t heard any screaming though and normally Charles would be drenched in sweat and tears.

The Monegasque rolls his eyes fondly at the questions because of course Sebastian who has obviously been crying is more concerned about him.

“I heard you get out of bed and then you didn’t come back. Why are you sitting down here, Seb?”

“I’m sorry I woke you up, sweetheart. Go back to bed,”

Charles can feel the frustration growing at Sebastian’s deliberate avoidance of his questions.

He pulls back from the older man’s hold and pinpoints him with a stare.

“What’s wrong, Seb?”

Sebastian shakes his head on a sigh, “Nothing you need to worry about, Charles,”

“If you’re worrying about it then I’m going to worry about it. Tell me, maybe I can help - and if I can’t I can just listen,”

Sebastian gives him an unimpressed look, “I’m not going to unload all my worries on to you at 2am. You look exhausted,” He comments, dragging his finger across Charles’ face, “Go back to bed,”

Charles covers the offending digit with his hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the fingertip, “Tell me what’s bothering you, Seb,”

Sebastian leans back on his arms, stretching out his legs in front of him, looking out of the window. It’s clear that no matter how many times he tells his boyfriend to go back to bed, he’s not going to listen.

He glances over at him and debates whether he wants to burden him with his problems. Charles is already carrying so much on his shoulders and he’s too young to relate to the thoughts plaguing Sebastian’s mind as he tries to sleep.

Still it would be nice to have someone to rant to and Charles can be a good listener when he’s not fully awake.

“It’s nothing specific. It’s just the car, the season and everything else. Sometimes it feels like I’m not doing enough,”

It’s a vague statement and he knows Charles will call him out on it. If he could give specifics he would but there’s not any. It’s just the overwhelming feeling that he might be reaching the end of his career and he’s not done enough with it.

Charles furrows his brows, “What do you mean?”

“It’s just when I joined Aston Martin I joined to help build them up but we are struggling. Sometimes it just feels like maybe I wasn’t the right man for the job,”

Charles cups the man’s cheek and turns his head so they are looking at each other, “Seb, you are the man for the job. You’ve already done so much for that team. You’re a four time world champion. You’re like one of the best race drivers there’s ever been,”

It almost makes Sebastian laugh. There are times when he looks at Charles as the younger man is praising him and it still feels surreal that they are in this position.

Charles, who joined his team only a few years ago and proved himself to be one of the biggest talents the sport would ever see.

If someone had said to him back then - when he was watching his teammate dominate him throughout the season - that he’d be sitting on the floor of his house pouring his heart out to him, he’d have thought they were insane.

He hadn’t hated Charles when they were teammates despite what the media seems to think. The Monegasque had never made it easy to like him though with his insolent looks and smug smirks.

Sebastian had always assumed that he would be there for Charles to guide him through the sport if he ever needed it - although it quickly became clear he didn’t - and that would be as far as their relationship went.

Yet here he is sitting next to the younger man and hopelessly in love with him. There was no chance he would have let himself feel so vulnerable around Charles when they were teammates but now he knows he can rely on his boyfriend to comfort him.

It might have been rocky between them when they were teammates but even then he knew Charles saw him as a hero.

It’s changed into something different now, which Sebastian is glad about. Now, Charles doesn’t worship him like he’s some Formula 1 God, he just loves and supports him. It’s obvious still though that Charles thinks of him as someone he isn’t anymore.

It’s like the image Charles has of him in his head is out of date. Charles sees him as a winner. He sees him as a legend. He’s none of those things anymore.

Sebastian smiles slightly and tilts his head to press a chaste kiss to his boyfriend’s palm, “You’ve always held me in such high regard, Charlie. I appreciate it, I do, but I’ve not won a race in almost three years and I haven’t won a championship in almost a decade,”

“It’s not all about winning, Seb. You’ve done so much more. You’re building up a team. You’ll always be a champion no matter how long it’s been since you’ve won a race,”

Sebastian arches an eyebrow at him. The words are sweet but he knows for a fact that Charles’ life revolves around winning.

“Since when have you thought it’s not all about the winning?”

Charles smiles sheepishly, “Well to me it’s all about the winning but that’s because I haven’t won much yet. You have though and now you’re doing more important things too,”

Not the first time Sebastian wishes he was still as naive as his boyfriend. He wishes he could see everything so positively but years of losing out on championships and struggling in cars has changed his view and made him more wary.

It only takes one accidental click on a headline and everything you’ve ever achieved can feel meaningless. The words from someone you’ve never met diminishing your wins and openly criticising you as if they could do any better.

“You know sometimes I feel like people might be right and I might be past my time. I don’t feel like the same person that won those championships all those years ago,”

Charles gapes at his boyfriend unable to believe the words that have come out of his mouth. How could a four time world champion like Sebastian ever think he’s past his time?

If Charles could find every single person who has written a bad word about his boyfriend and destroy them all he would.

Although he’s got a championship to win so instead he’ll settle for calling out the ridiculousness of it all.

“That’s stupid!” Charles snaps, smirking at the glare the older man shoots him, “Well it is stupid! You’re still the same world champion, Seb. You’re just more experienced now. Redbull you would be so proud of the person you are now,”

Sebastian hadn’t planned on doing any serious self reflecting tonight. All he’d really wanted was to cry in peace but he should have known that would never happen.

He should have known that Charles would never let him get sucked into the endless spiral of self hatred.

If he thinks back to when he was at redbull and it felt like he had the whole world under his feet, beautifully young and winning - he thinks he probably would be quite proud of himself now.

He might not ever have gone on to win anymore titles but he’s pretty sure a younger him would understand why. There was never going to be a chance for him to win again when Mercedes were in their prime but he still gave it a good shot.

His expectations of racing changed when he left Ferrari and instead of being focussed on winning he wanted to help grow a team. He himself has grown as a person and so it only made sense he’d use his knowledge to build something better.

Sebastian feels a sudden need to burst out crying at the realisation he would be doing his younger self proud, and of all the people that could have made him realise that; it had to be Charles.

Charles who has never once doubted him, even when Ferrari threw him out like he was nothing - it was Charles who convinced him he’d go onto better things.

“I can’t imagine my life without you, Charles,” He replies after a while because it’s all he can think to say and it’s so earnestly true, “You were the constant in my life that got me through everything that happened in 2020,”

“Ferrari didn’t deserve you, Sebastian. They were the ones that lost out,”

The certainty in Charles’ voice makes Sebastian look at him and all he can see when he looks into the younger man’s eyes is love.

It’s strange to hear his boyfriend talk about his beloved team in that way. Charles would normally defend Ferrari as if it gave life to him - which he supposes in a way they did. They were the ones that kickstarted Charles’ career.

It’s the reason he’s almost certain they’ll never treat Charles in the same way they did him. He’s their golden boy. He’s one of their own. They grew him through the academy to be their greatest soldier.

Ferrari don’t deserve someone as pure and kind hearted as Charles Leclerc but as long as they manage to give the younger man everything he wants, Sebastian won’t say anything.

He sits up properly and pulls Charles into his side, pressing a kiss to his temple, “It’s not like you to be criticising Ferrari, Charles. They’re your dream team,”

Charles looks up at him with wide eyes that are so clear and honest, “I love Ferrari but I love you more. I wish you could see yourself how I see you. You’d never worry about whether you’re doing enough ever again,”

Sebastian smiles down at him. It’s impossible to be hard on himself when he’s got his own personal cheerleader around.

“I love you, Charlie. Thank you for always believing in me,”

The words will never be enough to portray how grateful he is to have Charles in his life. It’s actions that speaks louder than words and he’ll spend everyday showing his boyfriend how thankful he is to have him around.

“I’ll always believe in you, Seb,”

Sebastian doesn’t doubt that and for the first time in a while he realises he’s believing in himself again. If 25 year old Sebastian would be proud of him then why can’t 35 year old Sebastian be proud?

“What are you two sitting down here in the middle of the night for?”

Lewis’ voice catches their attention and they turn back to look at the older man standing against the doorway all bleary eyed.

Something about the way they look must set off alarm bells in his head because the Brit frowns and walks over to them, slipping an arm around Charles.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Lewis queries, looking over at Sebastian in concern.

Sebastian shakes his head and ruffles the younger man’s hair, “Charlie has just been talking me through my mid life crisis,”

Lewis frowns and reaches his free hand over to rest on the blonde’s knee, “What’s going on, Seb?”

“He thinks he’s not doing enough and that he’s passed his prime. I told him that’s stupid though,” Charles informs his boyfriend.

Sebastian wants to interject because the way Charles has summarised it makes it seem less profound than it felt to him - he doesn’t though because the younger man isn’t wrong.

“That is stupid,” Lewis agrees on a smirk, “You’re Sebastian Vettel. You’re the youngest ever world champion. Don’t ever forget that, Seb. You’ve made history in the sport and you’re still making history,”

“I think I’ve remembered that now,” He whispers on a smile and let’s a comfortable silence fall between them as they look out onto the dark sky.

There will be times when he catches himself falling down the bottomless hole of missed opportunities and self doubt, but at least he knows he can always count on the two people next to him to drag him out of it.

“Let’s go back to bed. I’m not falling asleep on the floor. My back can’t take it,” Sebastian announces, smirking when Charles jumps up and holds out both his hands offering to help them up.

They both roll their eyes at him and push themselves up off the floor, wrapping one arm around the younger man’s slim waist.

They’ll always hold each other up.

Chapter Text

Charles practically collapses into Lewis and Sebastian’s arms as they guide him from his hotel and into Lewis’ car.

Silverstone had been a shit show and although he wants to be in Monaco, in his own home - Sebastian’s flat is the second best choice. It’s close to the track and after having been numerous times feels like home too.

Anywhere with Sebastian and Lewis feels like home.

His body feels like it’s on autopilot as he lets his boyfriend’s control his every move - lowering him into the backseat of the car, and putting his seatbelt on.

The dull ache in his ribs from his argument with Mattia earlier is nothing compared to the numbness in his mind. How could Ferrari do this to him again? How had an argument with Mattia about strategy turned into the older man attacking him?

Everything feels surreal and he blinks twice when he realises they’ve already pulled up in front of Sebastian’s building, and he’s being dragged up the stairs.

“Let’s get into bed, Charlie,” Lewis instructs softly, pulling the younger man by the hand into Sebastian’s bedroom.

Sebastian follows in after them and slips an arm around his boyfriend, “Do you want to watch a film? You can choose,”

Charles doesn’t want to watch a film. He wants to crawl into bed and never wake up.

The German must take his lack of response as a no and smiles softly, “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s just go to bed then,”

The two older men make quick work of discarding their clothes, frowning at him when he makes no effort to do the same.

Alarm bells go off in Charles’ head. How is he going to get away with not letting them see his battered body?

He quickly pulls his t-shirt back down when Lewis tries to pull it over his head and the older man frowns.

“What’s wrong? Take your clothes off, Charlie,”

Charles shakes his head knowing that as soon as the older men see the bruise on his ribs, they’ll start asking a thousand questions.

“Turn the lights off first,” He murmurs, trying to push past Sebastian to turn the lights off but the blonde steps in his way on furrowed brows.

“Don’t be silly, Charles. Since when have you had any issues taking your clothes off? Come on, get undressed,”

Sebastian’s hands tug at the hem of his t-shirt and Charles pushes them away, “I want to sleep in a t-shirt tonight,”

Lewis narrows his eyes on him, “What’s going on, Charles? Why won’t you take your shirt off?”

“I just want to sleep in it tonight, I’m cold. British weather isn’t as nice as Monaco’s,”

The older men look at him in concern but don’t push it.

Charles can tell from the shared look between them that they haven’t let it go but he’s satisfied for now, and lies down on the bed in his boxers and t-shirt.

Lewis and Sebastian quietly natter together from either side of him about anything but the race. They don’t mention their respective successes. They’re too kind for that. It makes Charles hate himself - the fact that his boyfriends can’t be happy because they know what kind of race he had.

Charles tries to give enthusiastic replies when either of them desperately try to include him in the conversation, but he can’t muster the strength to act like he really cares about what they’re discussing.

“There’s a new documentary coming out on Netflix next week, it’s about sustainable farming,” Sebastian informs them, “I think we should watch it. It’ll be good to get some tips,”

Lewis smirks, “As long as you promise not to cry if they mention the ice bergs melting,”

“I didn’t cry last time, Lewis,” Sebastian snaps in annoyance. It has been a long time debate between the three of them - whether or not Sebastian had cried when they watched a climate documentary.

Lewis and Charles will always argue that the German did in fact cry, and that they had seen the tears dripping down his cheeks. Sebastian will proclaim it was hay fever.

The memory is enough to bring a smile to Charles’ face and he looks up at the older man on a grin, “You definitely did cry, Seb. Almost as much as you cried when I gave you my helmet on your last race,”

Sebastian scoffs on a roll of the eyes and pokes two fingers into the younger man’s ribs, frowning when he hisses in pain instead of the usual soft giggle.

“Have you hurt yourself? Show me, Charles,”

Charles shakes his head and Sebastian growls in annoyance, pinning the younger man down on the bed with a firm hand on his chest and lifting up his t-shirt, ignoring the protests coming from his boyfriend’s mouth.

He sucks in a breath of air when he sees the large yellow bruise on his boyfriend’s ribs, big enough that it covers one side of his rib cage.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Sebastian spits, running his fingers over the bruise, not stopping even when Charles squirms underneath the touch.

Charles shrugs his shoulders, “Must have been in the car,” He murmurs, not looking either of them in the eye.

Lewis looks at him with a raised eyebrow. He’s not sure why Charles still thinks he can lie to them - it’s always obvious when he’s not telling the truth.

“Tell us what really happened, Charlie,” He orders, then a thought runs through his head and he frowns, “Did someone do this to you?”

The flash of worry in Charles’ eyes is the only answer he needs and Lewis sits up in the bed, looking down at him, “Who the fuck did this to you? Was it Max? Did fucking Max hurt you again?”

Sebastian sits up on a scowl, “It better not have been Max. I warned him about what would happen if he ever hurt you again. Who was it, Charles?”

Charles looks at the blonde in annoyance. He knew that Sebastian had said something to Max after their fight in the bar.

“I told you not to get involved with me and Max! I can look after myself, Seb!”

“Don’t avoid the question, Charles,” Sebastian hisses, “Who did this to you? Was it Max?”

Charles doesn’t reply and Lewis shakes his head in anger, “That fucking dickhead. I’ll kill him. Pass me my phone, Seb,”

Charles’ eyes widen. He’s not sure what Lewis is going to say to Max but he knows it won’t be anything good and this really is nothing to do with his rival.

Charles grabs Lewis’ phone when the German holds it out and the two men look at him in annoyance.

“Give me my phone, Charles,”

“No! Max didn’t do this, I promise”,

“Who then?”

“It happened in the car,”

Sebastian scoffs, “Don’t lie, Charles. We know someone did this so just tell us who it was,”

Charles burrows his face into his hands. There’s no way he’s going to get away with not telling them.

“Mattia,” He whispers, “I was arguing with him in my drivers room after the race and he-he-he kicked me,”

Lewis and Sebastian’s eyes widen in shock, “Mattia did this to you? Mattia hurt you because you had the balls to argue about their shit strategy?”

Charles raises his eyes to look at the blonde, “He said I deserved it for not being a team player,” He murmurs, voice breaking, “I am a team player though, I always have been,”

Neither of the older men say anything for a few moments until Lewis hisses, “How fucking dare he? I’ll kill him. I can’t believe he’d do this to you,”

Sebastian growls in anger and clenches his fists,
“This is not acceptable, Charles. We are going to the GPDA about this and maybe even the police. This is not okay,”

“We are going to the hospital too. We need to check your ribs aren’t broken,” Lewis adds hastily, eyes tracking over his boyfriend’s ribs.

Charles sits up and looks between them, “No! It’s fine! I can handle myself! It’s not as bad as it looks!”

Lewis sighs and pulls the younger man half on top of him, being careful not to jostle him too much. “Charlie, we know that you can handle yourself but this is wrong. Mattia should never hurt you, no matter what you might say. You don’t need to do anything, we are going to sort this out,”

Charles groans at the looks of determination on his boyfriend’s faces. He knows that Lewis and Sebastian are protective and that they would do anything to help him. Sometimes though he wishes that they’d just let him sort out his own problems.

“This is nothing to do with either of you!” He snaps, moaning in pain when he pulls out of Lewis’ hold and puts pressure on his ribs.

Sebastian leans forward on a glare and grips his waist, “Stop throwing yourself around, Charles. You’ll make it worse. We need to go and get you checked out and then I’m making a call about Mattia,”

Lewis and Sebastian don’t hesitate and slide out of either side of the bed, shooting expectant looks at their boyfriend.

“I don’t need to go to the hospital and I don’t need you two involved in this. This is my team and I need to be able to sort things out myself,”

Lewis looks at him sceptically. Every instinct in his body is telling him to ignore the younger man and force him into the car so they can go the hospital.

The sensible side of him though knows that if Charles was in serious pain, he’d go. Charles wouldn’t want to miss a race by not getting checked out if he thought it was needed.

And he knows that Charles is capable of looking after himself. Ferrari is his team and it’s not Lewis and Sebastian’s place to get involved. Still, though this isn’t some driver fight, this is a team principal - who has a duty of care to his drivers - physically assaulting one of them.

He’s heard stories from Sebastian about how awful Mattia could be. It always seemed though that Charles never saw that side of the team principal. He was their golden boy and they loved him. Apparently that’s changed now that Charles has started realising he deserves better.

Lewis wonders how long this has been going on for. How long has Mattia been giving Charles a hard time? The annoyance rises in him at the thought of his boyfriend keeping it from them. He thought they’d moved past this by now.

He perches back on the side of the bed on a frown, “Why didn’t you say something, Charlie?”

Charles looks down at his hands and twiddles his fingers, “You were so happy about being on the podium and Seb was so proud of Mick getting points. I didn’t want to bring the mood down,”

Lewis sighs and rubs at his temples, sometimes he wishes he could shake some sense into his young boyfriend. “God, I’ve never known anyone as self sacrificing as you. You’re our first priority, Charles. You always will be,”

Charles frowns as if what Lewis said couldn’t be more wrong, “It’s not fair though. You two always look out for me and I don’t want to be a -“ He pauses, searching for the word, “What is the word? When someone is just something you have to deal with all the time?”

“A burden,” Sebastian answers on a frown, “And don’t you dare call yourself that. You’re not a burden, Charlie, and you never will be. We look out for you because we love you and that’s the end of it. That’s what being in a relationship is,”

“If you love me then you’ll let me handle this on my own,”

Sebastian physically recoils on a scowl, “Don’t try and manipulate us, Charles. I won’t let Mattia get away with this. Do you seriously expect me to sit by and watch as Mattia fucking Binotto kicks the shit out of you?”

Charles reaches out to grasp the blonde’s hand and brings it to his lips to press a soft kiss to his palm, “It’s never happened before and it will never happen again. I need you to trust me, Seb. Trust that I can handle this myself,”

The German narrows his eyes on him, ready to argue until Lewis speaks first, “We do trust you, Charles. We’ll let you handle this on your own if you tell us what’s been going on. How are you feeling?”

Charles releases a long breath and closes his eyes as he gathers his thoughts. He’d promised his boyfriends that he would always talk to them after months of him shutting them out.

It’s not as hard as he thought it would be - talking to Lewis and Sebastian always ended up with him feeling better.

“I’m trying so hard and I feel really alone,” He chokes out, opening his eyes and blinking rapidly to stop the tear he can feel, “I just - I just I don’t think I can do this anymore,”

Neither of the older men reply. They’ve learnt that when Charles starts to open up it’s best to let him get it all out first. Instead, they shuffle up next to him on the bed and pull him back between them to lean against the headboard.

“It feels like the team is against me. They want me to fail. I always thought Ferrari was my dream but I don’t think it is anymore. My dream is to be a world champion and they will never get me there,” Charles murmurs before lowering his voice, “I think I want to leave,”

The last part comes out in barely a whisper - as if saying it out loud is a sin.

“You deserve better than Ferrari, Charles. Have you seen the support you have on Twitter? Everyone is on your side. If you leave Ferrari then you will have the support,” Lewis promises, pressing a kiss to the younger man’s temple.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to leave,”

Sebastian smiles sadly and cups the boy’s chin in his hand, tilting his face towards his own, “Charlie, you’re the strongest person I know. It’s scary making a decision like this. I was scared when I left Ferrari but if you think it’s the right decision then you should do it,”

The Monegasque looks at him curiously through wet eyes, “When you told me not to waste it, did you mean not to stay at Ferrari?”

Sebastian tilts his head to the side on pursed lips, “I don’t want to influence your decision, Charles. This is something only you can decide but just know whatever happens, we will be here,”

Sebastian doesn’t tell him that’s what he meant. He doesn’t tell him that the scrawled handwritten message on his helmet was a warning to Charles. Leave Ferrari. You’re better than them. They will destroy you.

As much as he wants to protect Charles from Ferrari, he knows it needs to be Charles’ decision.

“Why did you have to leave, Seb? Why did you leave me on my own? I can’t do it alone,”

Charles knows it’s unfair. He knows that it’s unkind for him to ask Sebastian that. It was never his boyfriend’s choice to leave Ferrari.

The selfish side of him though knows that if Sebastian had stayed then he wouldn’t be feeling like this. Sebastian always supported him in a way Carlos never does. Sebastian would never let Mattia treat him like this.

Sebastian wipes a stray tear from the younger man’s cheek, “I’m sorry I left, Charlie but you know I had no choice. I’m better off now and it was for the best. I was glad that the team were focussing on you but I didn’t know it would end up like this. You’re not alone though, sweetheart, I might not be your teammate but I am still here. Lewis is here. We will always have your back,”

“I don’t know what to do,” Charles admits quietly, crying harder when his boyfriends pull him further down the bed and practically cover his body with their own limbs.

Ferrari might not love him but at least Lewis and Sebastian do.
_______________________________________________

Lewis trusts Charles.

He’s not the type of boyfriend to go snooping through phones or drawers looking for something unexpected. He’s 37 years old for fucks sake - he’s not some jealous teenager.

But Charles and Sebastian have been gone for seven minutes - on the hunt for some pastries in Monaco. Charles’ phone has buzzed sixteen times.

He wishes that Charles had just taken his phone with him so he wasn’t in this situation.

He’s been here before - the soul crushing pain of someone who promises they love you proving they don’t and falling into bed with someone else.

He just never thought it would be Charles.

Lewis’ fingers twitch with the compulsion to answer it on the tenth vibration, if only to tell the person on the other end that no, Charles’ apartment is not on fire and he's not in any danger. The urgency, the frequency of the texts is astounding. Even Pierre doesn't send this many unless he’s waiting for his best friend to log on to a game.

As text number twelve lights up Charles’ iPhone, the itch becomes unbearable. Maybe it is Pierre, maybe it's someone else. Either way, the fact that whoever it is is texting this much is wrong. Clearly worried about Charles, or in danger themselves, and simply needing someone to respond.

Lewis hesitates with his finger over the keypad, the word traitor chasing itself through his thoughts before he slides his thumb smoothly across the unlock button. Charles’ passcode is easy to guess. He should probably remind his boyfriend not to use his birthday in case a fan ever gets hold of his phone.

With one breathless pause in between, his fingers slip and another text lights up the screen. 

Jennifer.

Lewis swallows because he doesn’t know any Jennifers. Charles has never mentioned any Jennifers. He scours his brain for any conversations where his boyfriend had mentioned that name but comes up with nothing.

The feeling of betrayal heats through his body.

His fingers skid across the screen as he tries to open the text message discretely. He doesn’t want to invade anyone's privacy. If it's personal - maybe a distant relative or something - he doesn’t want to intrude on that. If it's an emergency, he doesn’t want to see the full-blown hysteria: he just wants the details needed to make a phone call to an emergency number without being called insane afterward.

He opens the texts and his stomach drops.
It's nothing raunchy, thank God. He’s not sure if he could sit here and pretend he’s not skimming through Charles’ phone calmly if they were.

There’s a chain of texts each one with a time and a date. He scrolls up through them feeling his world collapse around him. They’re meetings arranged around race weekends.

The most recent one from the other day when Charles had told him and Sebastian that he needed to be in Maranello for the day. The text though listed a Monaco address.

It feels like every nerve in his body has either frozen or left his vessel completely. His body has entered a state of shock; adrenaline.

Everything is absolutely stripped. Vulnerability. Disbelief. Disgust. Horror. Anger. Confusion. Shattering, crippling, traumatizing heart-break.

He’s been here before and he promised himself he’d never let himself feel like this again. He would never forgive Charles for sending him back to a place he tried to forget.

Lewis doesn’t even notice how engrossed in them he is until Charles and Sebastian storm through the door, their cheerful proclamation about finding fresh pastries falling on deaf ears.

It seems unreal, reading the texts and knowing that Charles has been responding to them: probably meeting up with this Jennifer.

Lewis is of course aware that Charles is bisexual. He is too. Lewis knows that before Sebastian, Charles had only slept with girls. He also knows that nearly every straight female on the planet would want to sleep with his boyfriend.

He just never thought that Charles would do this to them. He never thought Charles would cheat on them.

He swallows hard. It doesn't feel right, like someone's choking him or about to choke him.

Sebastian and Charles have paused at the foot of the bed and words spring to his lips before he can stop them.

"Who's Jennifer?”

And it crumples. Charles’ expression loses the bright edge of almost forced cheerfulness that it had acquired since his and Sebastian’s arrival - and God, it hurts to see how artificial it was, how easily it folds into a more neutral, more distressed one now - as he steps back, bracing himself.

“Jennifer?” Sebastian questions, looking between them in confusion, “What are you on about, Lewis?”

Lewis doesn’t answer him - just stares at Charles, waiting for his answer.

The younger man doesn’t look guilty but he’s never known anyone that can put on a mask like Charles. He’s seen it time and time again - the way he covers his emotions for the media. Nothing can throw off the Ferrari Prince.

Ferrari PR training has crafted him into someone that can lie through his teeth and not break a sweat doing it. Even if the people he’s lying to are the ones he claims he loves.

Lewis feels somewhat relieved that Charles doesn’t look like he’s hiding something. Ferrari might have trained him to be an actor but he’s never been able to lie to them - he and Sebastian had always been able to read him.

He knows, even before he starts speaking, that he will lose the argument. Hurting Charles is like ripping a part of his soul into pieces: it's not enough to cripple him but it's more than enough to keep him from ever, ever doing it consciously.

"Why are you going through my phone?" Charles asks, picking up his phone from the bed and shoving it in his pocket.

Lewis is not sure if it's more upsetting to hear the eerily calm note in his boyfriend’s voice or the rising alarm underneath it. Part of him wants to believe that he is calm, that it is all a misunderstanding and Charles is not concerned that he’s stumbled upon them. That he's unconcerned that Lewis has found the texts stored for hours after they've been sent.

"I'm not going through your phone," He says, because it's the only thing he can think of when Charles is here, looking at him like he’s somehow stumbled upon his darkest secret. "It's just that it-" He stamps down the sudden urge to slam Charles into the wall and force the truth out of him, instead he nonchalantly explains, “it keeps buzzing, because Jennifer won't stop texting you."
He lets the emphasis lie on the word, half-daring him to pick up the bait, to admit to this before he has to force it out of him.

Because there's no way around this. Even as Lewis speaks, the phone vibrates in Charles’ pocket.

Sebastian drops the box of pastries onto the bed on a frown and turns to the younger man with a frown, “What’s going on, Charles? Who keeps texting you?”

Charles’ face hardens and he flicks his gaze between the two men, “That’s nothing to do with either of you,”

“You’re sleeping with her,” The words are out of Lewis’ mouth before he can stop them. Sebastian turns to him on a gape, “Lewis, he would never do that. Charles wouldn’t cheat,”

He’s dumbstruck at the words that have come out of Sebastian’s mouth. Sebastian is smart, smarter than anyone else he knows. Surely his love for Charles isn’t clouding his judgement this much?

He would never have thought that Charles was capable of something like this either. Not his Charles, who serenades him with soft piano music and presses delicate kisses to his skin.

He’d never thought his ex-girlfriend was capable of it either though. People have a way of surprising you in the worst way.

Lewis wishes he could immediately shut down the idea like Sebastian, but he can’t. Love hasn’t been fair to him in the past and old wounds are reopening.

Anger erupts to mingle with frustration; Lewis’ rises slowly off the bed, the words already springing to his lips as recites the times and locations he’d read. He’d never be able to forget them now. They were the days Charles broke his heart.

“Shut up, Lewis,” The plaintive, almost annoyed tone in Charles’ voice doesn't faze him. Nothing could at this point.

The Brit lunges forward and grabs the phone from Charles’ large shorts pocket, stepping back when his boyfriend tries to grab it.

Everyone thinks that Charles is this vocal, expressive person, and he is, but sometimes the most distressing thing about him is the way he gets when he's genuinely upset. He closes down and closes off, trying to cover up the evidence of his hurt before it can alert anyone else.

"Give me my phone,”

Only this time it isn't hurt. This time it's shame, disbelief, and suddenly Lewis is backing away and clutching the phone, because the only leverage he has with him - the only thing Lewis has left with him, it seems - is this one connection. As soon as he gets it away, Charles won't speak to him.

As soon as he gets it away, they’re done.

Lewis isn’t sure what he’s doing - he’s convinced his mind has temporarily locked the portion devoted to sanity away to spare it from this impossibility - but words tumble over each other even as he stares at Charles, imploring him to stop this before it goes any further.

Please, contradict me. Please, tell me I’m wrong. Please, say it's a lie.

Charles doesn't say anything. He stares at him with the sort of exasperated impatience characterized by someone who sees nothing wrong in a situation.

The absolute disconnect he has from Lewis’ uncertainty - from his upset, if he’s being honest hurts more than anything he could have screamed or thrown.

"Why are you getting so upset?"

The words are stuttered, but the breach in calm doesn't reassure Lewis. If anything, it terrifies him more. Charles never discomposed like this, not when he knows he's on sure footing. Even when he's exhausted and upset and emotionally drained, he's not this discomposed, this detached.

It hurts to watch him lift his hands, making placating gestures.

Every part of Lewis wants to grab those hands and hold them. Anything to stop the look of vague bewilderment on his face, as though a trusted friend has suddenly turned feral.

And Lewis can't help it. He can't stop it; the inexplicable rise of emotions breaks over him.

All of it comes together - the hurt, the pain, the frustration - and he can’t stop the next words.
"You,” He says, and his strength is gone, the tears almost choking him, “are cheating on us Charles,”

"I’m not,” The Monegasque snaps, but without the same heat that he normally has. It's cold, icy without the sharp edges. Lewis’ throat tightens and his vision blurs as the screen lights up again even as Charles stares at him, edging closer. "I’m not cheating. Just give me my phone,”

Sebastian, who has been watching the scene unfold with nothing short of bewilderment grabs the phone from Lewis and looks down at the screen, “Why is someone called Jennifer asking where you are and why you’re not at her apartment yet?”

The German’s voice is eerily calm. Something twists inside Lewis and for a moment he’s afraid that he’s going to be sick on the carpet. The numbness feels all powerful, consuming, and he can't breathe.

Charles releases a ragged breath and tries to retrieve his phone again, growling when Sebastian pushes him away, “Answer the fucking question, Charles,”

“I don’t have to explain anything to either of you,”

Lewis feels the rage build in him at Charles’ audacity. He shoves the younger man against the wall, not lowering his pressure on the boy’s chest when he whimpers. Charles has broken his heart and he wants him to suffer in the same way.

“Yes you fucking do! You’re our boyfriend! I’m going to give you one more chance before I ring that number myself - are you cheating on us with a girl called Jennifer?”

“Say something, Charles! This isn’t fair!” Sebastian pleads, moving to stand next to Lewis.

Sebastian’s voice is raw. Trust, honesty and respect are necessary in a relationship, and Charles just shattered all three at once. They have been the victim of an emotional crime.

How could Charles fuck them over like this? When they trusted him. They loved him. They looked after him. They were loyal to him.

“There’s nothing to say, I’m not cheating on you. I would never do that to you. You know me,”

Sebastian sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he looks at the younger man. He does know Charles. He knows him better than anyone and the idea that his boyfriend would do something like this to them is unthinkable.

Yet he can remember when they were teammates and Charles confiding in him that he’d cheated on his girlfriend.

The Monegasque had been ruined - crying in his arms and cursing his own name. Sebastian had felt sorry for him. He had no loyalties to Charles’ girlfriend and he could see the pain it was causing the younger man. Charles was only 21 then, so young and still maturing.

He’s pretty sure Charles had never really loved his girlfriend, not in the same way that he loves him and Lewis. The fact that he has a history of this behaviour though doesn’t help his case.

“You’ve done it before,”

Betrayal flashes in Charles’ eyes and his jaw hardens. Sebastian had never thrown that in his face before. It was a mistake years ago and something he’s had to live with his whole life - knowing he’d ruined someone he cared for. It’s why he promised himself he’d never do it again. He hasn’t broken that promise.

Lewis gapes at him, “You’ve cheated on someone before? When I bled my heart out to you and Seb about what my ex-girlfriend cheating on me had done to my self esteem, you knew you’d made someone feel that way and still had the audacity to comfort me?”

Charles tries to grasp Lewis’ hand but the older man shoves him away with force, “Lewis, please. It was years ago. I’d never do that to you. I love you,”

Love. He loves Charles despite how much he hates him right now. He’ll probably always love him and the thought alone is enough to make him never want to see the younger man again.

“I won’t ever forgive you for this, Charles. We’ll be done,” Sebastian promises, pressing the number and placing it on speaker.

The telltale ringing sound echoes through the speaker and Charles forces his way forward, grabbing the phone and ending the call.

There’s no other way out of this now.

The youngest man stares at the floor, “Jennifer is a therapist I’ve been seeing for a few months. She’s been texting because I had an appointment with her today at her apartment but I didn’t go because you two turned up,”

Charles looks up and Lewis assessed his face. All he sees is his beautiful boyfriend. Charles isn’t a liar and right now he can tell the youngest man is telling the truth.

Sebastian looks relieved and Lewis realises he never really doubted Charles. The German’s faith in their boyfriend never wavered and he wishes he could have felt the same - instead he’s put Charles through hell for no reason.

“Charlie,” He whispers, reaching out a hand to stroke a finger down his boyfriend’s cheek, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Charles shrugs his shoulders and looks back down at the floor, “I didn’t want anyone to find out. I don’t know how Mattia will react if he finds out I’m seeing a therapist. I wanted to tell you both but I didn’t know how to,”

Lewis feels guilty now. His paranoia has led to Charles being forced into admitting something he wasn’t ready to tell them.

He feels even worse when he remembers what Charles had said - he was supposed to be meeting with his therapist today but he couldn’t because they came.

Sebastian sighs and pulls their boyfriend into a tight hug, carding his fingers through his dark hair, “You can tell us anything, Charlie. I’m really proud of you. Is it helping?”

Charles nods into the blonde’s shoulder, “Yeah. It’s good to talk to someone about racing that doesn’t really get it. She sees things in a different way,”

Hesitant green eyes flick to Lewis’ over their boyfriend’s shoulder, “I’m sorry for upsetting you, Lewis. I would never cheat on you though, I thought you’d know that,”

Lewis shakes his head in disbelief at the words coming out his boyfriend’s mouth. He shouldn’t be apologising.

The Brit wraps his arms around the two men and presses a kiss to Charles’ lips, “I’m sorry, Charles. I know that you’d never do that and I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I love you, sweetheart. Will you still be able to go to your appointment today?”

Sebastian pulls back on a frown, obviously only now recalling that Charles was supposed to be meeting the doctor today.

“You should go, Charlie. Lewis and I should have told you we were coming - we were just worried about you. Go to your appointment and we’ll wait here for you,”

Charles smiles slightly, “No, it’s okay. I’d rather spend time with you two. I’ll rearrange it,”

Lewis shakes his head vehemently. He won’t have Charles potentially missing out on something that could help him for years to come just because they chose to surprise him. “No, Charlie. Go,”

“Okay,” The Monegasque relents, before looking between them on a sheepish smile, “Would you two maybe want to come? I speak about you both a lot and I think Jennifer would like to meet you,”

Lewis and Sebastian share a concerned look. Lewis isn’t sure how productive it would be for them to sit in with their boyfriend.

Charles was not very forthcoming at the best of times but he suspects the younger man is able to express his emotions more clearly when he’s alone with his therapist.

“Is that really a good idea, Charles? Don’t get me wrong, if you want us to come then we will, but I’m just thinking about how this might affect your progress,” Sebastian replies, cupping the younger man’s cheek.

“It’d be nice to feel like I’m not alone in this,” Charles murmurs and the vulnerability in his voice sparks a wave of protectiveness in the two men as they wrap strong arms around him.

“You’re never alone, Charlie. We’re always here and we always love you,”
_______________________________________________

The last thing Charles said to Lewis and Sebastian was fuck you before he left.

Their argument had lasted for approximately 2 hours, ‘cause the moment Charles walked through Lewis’ apartment door, they were already at it with no signs of stopping.

He had just finished a gruelling day of sim work and strategy meetings. Beyond exhausted after being stretched to his limits by the team, but to be greeted by his grumpy boyfriends was just the icing on the cake, and definitely the last straw.

Charles had spotted his boyfriends seated by the dining table when he first came in. He couldn’t afford to waste time, his mind brimming with numbers and calculations overdue from his chat with the engineers, and he knew he shouldn’t mix work with home, but he was starting to lose his ability to manage what he could and couldn’t do in his life.

Lewis tilts his head and looked at Charles with weary eyes. “You said you’d be here yesterday. You’ve been gone for a week now? We haven’t seen you in ages and you barely reply to our messages,”

Charles isn’t sure where this attitude is coming from, because both Lewis and Sebastian know how hectic F1 driver’s lives are. They would have been going through the same thing when they were fighting for a championship.

He doesn’t understand why they suddenly have a problem with it now, of all times.

“It’s been like this since the start of the season and it became obvious we had a chance at the championship. It’s nothing new,”

“Yeah, but it’s getting kind of frustrating when you’re never around.”

That rouses something inside Charles. It paints him in an ugly shade of neglect that definitely isn’t for him.

“We don’t have kids, or anything, Lewis. What do you want me to be around for?”

Sebastian’s eyes are ablaze as he stands up in a hurry, sending the chair flying backwards and toppling onto the floor. “Did you just completely forget that you’re in a relationship? Do you not think about us at all when we are not right in front of you?”

Charles is starting to feel a little impatient, but he tries to remain civil. “That’s not what I meant and you know it, Seb. I think about you both all the time but I’ve got a lot of stuff on and I can’t keep on top of everything,”

Lewis scoffs in annoyance, “So we are the ones that get cast aside? What happened to you always choosing us over racing? We’ve really missed you, Charles, and you barely text us back,”

Charles felt like he had just been stabbed, a knife protruding through his heart and out his chest. And instead of removing it, Lewis made the choice to twist the knife in its wound.

“That’s unfair!” Charles roars, his plan of staying civil being thrown out of the window along with any plans for a relaxing night, “I have to be in Maranello! Racing is my life! It’s both of your lives too! I’m sure you two were just as selfish years ago but you didn’t have anyone calling you out for it!”

“We were and our relationships suffered. We don’t want to go through that again. That’s why we are asking you to think about us from time to time. You don’t need to spend everyday in Maranello, I know that Carlos doesn’t,” Lewis accuses, jumping off his chair in rage and standing next to Sebastian.

“All I do is think about you!” Charles screams, his cheeks red from anger, “I won’t sacrifice my first championship to comfort you both when you’re being needy though! You shouldn’t ask me to do that!”

Charles can see the shadows under both men’s eyes becoming more prominent. The stress of the season is damaging them too. They are supposed to be each other’s escape but right now it feels like a never ending cycle of hurt.

“We are not being needy, Charles! It’s not needy to want to see you more than once every two weeks! Why don’t you start acting like you give a shit if we are alive or dead?” Sebastian snaps, his hand gripping onto the chair to stop himself shoving his fist in his boyfriend’s face.

He understands that Charles is in high demand. This could be Ferrari’s first championship in fifteen years. Proud doesn’t begin to express his feelings for his boyfriend.

Yet the weeks of one word replies over text and the cancelled plans to attend sponsor meetings have become too frequent. Relationships shouldn’t be this hard. Loving Charles shouldn’t be this hard.

“What do you want me to do?! Do you want me to quit racing! Do you want to me to give up on the sport I love just to be your pretty little toy boy?! You’re both being unfair! I would never say this to you!”

Charles thinks he sees Lewis’ eyes glistening under the dim lighting, and he’d be a fool if he didn’t mistake those for tears. This is a bad argument. Maybe the worst they’ve ever had. They’re spitting words like they mean nothing.

But his rage is being fueled by the older men’s insufferable points, and there are so many things he wants to say that he can’t properly express without potentially hurting one of their feelings.

Charles is angry, but he doesn’t want to ruin their relationship permanently.

“We would never make you feel like this, Charles,” Lewis responds quietly, the rawness in his voice clear.

Lewis watches as Charles’ eyes turn to molten fire. The reaction of someone who feels like they are being wronged and everyone is against them.

He and Sebastian aren’t against Charles. They want to be with him. They want him to come home and tell them about his day. They want him to confide in them about his issues with the team.

Instead all they get is the ferocious side of Charles. The side that is exhausted after weeks of brutal commitments. It’s not fair. Charles thinks they’re being unfair, but it’s not fair for them to only get the side of Charles that they dislike the most.

They deserve the side of Charles they fell in love with, not the side that makes them question why they ever did.

Charles let’s out a bitter laugh, eyes gleaming with defiance, “Honestly I don’t know why I thought this could ever fucking work. You two are impossible,”


Lewis frowns not liking where this argument is going.

“You two have literally always held the fact I’m at the start of my career against me! You are just jealous! You always have been!”

Lewis opens his mouth to argue because that is ridiculous and he’s pretty sure Charles knows it too.

“Oh, you really want to go there? Okay, let’s go, since we’re naming everything we don’t like about each other,” Sebastian threatens in a low menacing tone as he backs the youngest man into a corner, “You’re selfish, immature, and arrogant. You spend so much time worrying about what Ferrari think about you that you seem to forget that Lewis and I love you for who you are!”

“No you don’t,” Charles barks, pressing his back against the wall to keep some distance between him and his boyfriend, “If you loved me for who I am then you’d have no issue with me being in Maranello,”

Lewis snorts in annoyance. Charles has always known how to manipulate them.

“I’ve never known anyone like you, Charles. Sometimes you make it impossible to love you,”

It’s fuel to the fire that had started as soon as Charles walked through the door.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to go like this but they are all suffering in their own way, and instead of talking about it they’ve decided to take it out on each other

Charles flinches and draws a deep breath. Lewis sees the colour in his eyes change.

“Fuck you,”

Lewis and Sebastian watch as Charles leaves, out of the door, out of their life, and leaving them behind in the ruins of their relationship.

Chapter Text

They’d never actually broken up. They’d never said the words.

But the gap between Lewis and Sebastian in bed and the obvious absence of Charles’ laughter means they might as well have.

They had an argument, and then another, and then it escalated even more with Charles screaming that maybe they'd be better off without each other as he slammed his apartment door in their faces.

And then they left and now Lewis and Sebastian are pissed off, but they are also worried. They’ve had arguments before, but Charles had never ever said anything remotely close to this.

It’s been four days since they spoke to Charles. In that time they’d tried to reach out to him but the texts and calls went unanswered.

They’d gone to his apartment, using their keys to enter the property, but every time it was empty.

Sebastian had never been more interested in social media before. He constantly nagged Lewis to check Charles’ accounts looking for any sign as to where he is. There hadn’t been any posts in days though.

Lewis rang Pierre asking if he’d heard from Charles. Pierre wasn’t very forthcoming and Lewis suspected he knew what had happened. Charles would have confided in his best friend and Pierre was trying to protect him.

Sebastian rang Lorenzo and Arthur, but neither of the Leclerc brothers had seen their sibling - they had been texting him about their Mother’s birthday though. So, at least Charles is alive.

The next race came quickly and it was the furthest thing from Lewis and Sebastian’s minds - especially when they arrived at the paddock for free practice and saw Charles kitted in Ferrari red and looking like he hadn’t slept in days.

Lewis tries to grasp Charles’ arm as he leaves the media pen. The younger man looks down at his hand as if it’s burning him and shakes it off.

Lewis steps back slightly, not wanting to give the cameras any drama but mostly not wanting to enrage his boyfriend? ex-boyfriend? anymore.

“Charles, please. This is stupid, man. We need to talk. You can’t keep avoiding us,”

Charles’ eyes are lifeless when they lower to find Lewis’ own. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen the brunette looking so dejected.

“This is over,” Charles hisses, following after Mia and not looking back.

Lewis deflates. He wants to break everything, to cry, to have the ground swallow him, to scream… instead he does nothing. He stands where he is, face void of emotion, staring at the of the love of his life walking away.

Charles wouldn’t be there to hold him when everything seemed to go wrong. He wouldn’t see him getting ready in the morning. He wouldn’t see his naked body bathed by the sunlight in the middle of the afternoon.

It sounded like he’s dead. But the worst part, as weird as it was, is that he isn’t.

Charles is still alive, getting ready to move on with his life, to win championships. To move on from everything he built with them and find someone new.

And as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t hate him. He couldn’t hate Charles for what he and Sebastian had agreed was a massive overreaction. He couldn’t hate Charles for throwing away their love as if it meant nothing. He would never hate him.

Sebastian appears at his side and leans in close to avoid the array of microphones hanging in the air. “Did you talk to him? Is he alright?”

Lewis wants to laugh. He’s pretty sure the limited words him and Charles shared couldn’t be counted as a conversation. It was an ending. An ending to their love story.

“I don’t think he’s coming back, Seb,” He answers. Back to our arms. Back to our beds. Back to us.

Sebastian frowns and shakes his head, “Of course he’s coming back. He’s had time to calm down. I’m not letting him act like this, Lewis. He at least owes us a conversation where we aren’t all screaming at each other,”

Lewis nods absentmindedly. Charles does owe them that. Whether or not they’ll get it though is another question. The way the younger man had looked at him sent shivers down his spine. There wasn’t even any anger in his eyes - it was pure disinterest. Charles didn’t care anymore.

Break ups are messy. This one would be particularly messy. They’d see each other nearly every weekend. Lewis would have to watch Charles up on the podium knowing he wouldn’t be the one celebrating with him that night. He’d have to watch Charles hide his emotions after a disappointment knowing he wouldn’t be the one to comfort him.

Then there were the mundane things. They need to give each other their keys back. They need to collect things from each other’s apartments.

All would hurt just as much.

It would be easier if he could just cut Charles out of his life.

Sebastian wants to talk about it but he doesn’t.

It's broken. They're broken, and no explanation is going to make that better. Lewis doesn't need to know exactly why, and in his experience with ended relationships, 'why' never has a clear cut answer. It's a rambling answer, too many words, excuses, and arguments, trying to make it work, hurting each other in the process.

He’s pretty sure it wasn’t their argument that resulted in this. The exhausted screams were just the last straw.

It wasn’t hard to miss the way they’d been arguing more. It wasn’t hard to miss the way Charles looked worse off every week after battling with his own team.

And it’s true what people say - you don’t realise how much you love something until you no longer have it. You can’t know the depth of the love until a separation.

To Lewis, Charles’ love was everything and Charles was his whole life. He’s realising now though that maybe it was only an episode to Charles.

You can love someone so much but you can never love people as much as you can miss them.

-

It's been four days, Charles reminds himself four days after he slammed his apartment door in his boyfriends faces.

He does it every day.

It's been five days.

It’s been six days.

It’s been a week and— another week.

And— well, you know how it goes.

Sometimes he feels like people wouldn't want to hear him, or that he'd be such a big burden to others if he'd actually voice out his thoughts.

Like how he can’t breathe without Lewis and Sebastian, even if he was the one who broke things off.

Like how he thought about them constantly, wondering what they were doing. Like how he still has Sebastian’s shampoo in his bathroom or how there's still a heart next to Lewis’ contact name.

Charles’ vision blurs as he slowly reads the preview of the text message. He’s not sure how many texts he’s received from Lewis and Sebastian since the start of the week - probably more than they’d ever sent throughout their entire relationship.

The phone drops from his hand with a loud thud and he breathes in shakily.

Charles is crying, he realises not surprised, it’s been this way every night. And he’s still sobbing, a wet laugh bubbling from his lips when he reminds himself this is all on him. He’s the one that left.

He sighs, his muscles aching as he stretches and stands up, tired from a day of track laps and pretending he’s okay.

He tries to convince himself this is good - that this is what he wanted. He wants to focus on the championship. He wants to be selfish and not have to worry about other people.

It’s futile because as much as he wants to win a championship, he wants Lewis and Sebastian cuddled up with him more. He wants their reassuring words whispered into his ear. He even wants them teasing him. He just wants them.

Things hadn’t been working though. Lewis and Sebastian expected too much from him. It’s like they forgot how gruelling racing can be when you’re fighting at the top - the strategy, the PR events, the sim work, and the endless meetings.

By the time he’d been done with his day there was never anything left in him to give his boyfriends. They got the empty shell of him. They got his face and body, but they didn’t get him.

It wasn’t fair and he knew that. It’s part of the reason he left. Lewis and Sebastian deserved better than that. They deserved someone who would be able to give them everything. They deserve each other.

But it wasn’t fair on him either. The older men liked to make him out to be some kind of villain - as if he enjoyed not seeing them, as if he enjoyed going days without hearing their voices. He didn’t but he had no choice. The demands of the team are piled on his shoulders.

He didn't want to breathe, because it hurt. Everything hurt, and he couldn't bear it. But at the same time, he didn't want it to stop, because he deserved it. He left them, he deserved every ounce of pain, every stinging tear, every regret. He deserved every moment of it, and it scared him, because he didn't think it would ever stop.

He ruined everything. He always ruined everything

It was pathetic; he knew it was. He was the one that had screwed up. He didn't deserve to be the one sitting there, wallowing. He didn't deserve to feel sorry for himself, and he didn't, not really. He didn't feel sorry for himself. He felt sorry for them, for ever thinking he was the sweet guy everyone made him out to be. For trusting him. For loving him. He deserved every ounce of anger he'd seen flushing their alabaster cheeks.

He stumbles off the bed, walking on shaky legs towards the hotel bathroom. He felt sick. His stomach tossed and turned. His head felt fuzzy. His eyes were blurry. His chest felt tight.

Oh God.

He fell into the bathroom, doubling over the toilet just in time to throw up the two or three bites of toast he'd managed to choke down at Andrea’s request. He tasted acid and sawdust. His insides heaved. His chest wrenched. His eyes burned, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

He couldn't think. He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe.

He didn't want to.

He felt separated. Detached. Vaguely, he registered that he was shaking. The floor is cold, hotel rooms always had that clinical chill.

His stomach lurched again, but he didn't move. There was nothing left. At all. There was nothing left in him; he felt hollow. Used up. Spent. He wanted to cry, to scream, to shout, to throw his fists and elbows and head against the wall, but that meant he had to move, and moving meant he had to stop…drifting. Or whatever he was doing.

-

Sebastian looks across the hotel room at Lewis who is making himself a cup of tea - anything to distract themselves from the ache in their chests.

Charles should be here. He should be with them in bed, or he should be plugging his PS5 into the TV then cursing as Lewis beats him in another game of Call Of Duty.

He never thought he’d lose Charles. They’d argued before and they’d always managed to work through it. They’d been teammates before for Christ sake - they’d said awful things to each other and got past it.

Yet all it took was one ridiculous argument, their frustrations pouring out, and it was over. Over a year together and it was done. Just like that.

And it’s so easy to hurt the people you love - the heated hostility and yelling - because you know they’ll keep on loving you. It’s a level of vulnerability that you only share with people that you trust whole heartedly.

-

The race went by in a blur. Charles isn’t sure how he managed to win because he doesn’t remember pushing on the straights, he doesn’t remember defending off Max, and he definitely doesn’t remember the champagne being sprayed.

It must have been though because now he’s in his driver’s room with sticky skin and damp hair. He looks at himself in the mirror, the sight of his own face making him feel sick.

The bags under his eyes are the worst they’ve ever been - he looks like a dead man walking. His skin is too pale and his cheek bones too prominent.

Without thinking his eyes drift to the reflection of the door, waiting for Sebastian and Lewis to walk in and congratulate him on his win properly. The same way they did every time.

No one comes though. Lewis and Sebastian had tried to approach him in Parc Ferme with proud beams on their faces but he’d ducked his head and followed after Carlos to the podium celebration. He tried to ignore the look of betrayal on their faces, it’d only add to his guilt.

The door opens and he flips around, hope building in his chest which quickly evaporates when the doorway is filled with red.

“Do you want to go out and celebrate, mate? Lando, George, and Alex are going to come,”

Charles forces a smile at his teammate. He’s definitely not in the mood to celebrate. It doesn’t feel like he’s got anything worth celebrating but drowning himself in alcohol does appeal to him - even if it’s just to block out everything in his head.

He might not have Sebastian and Lewis anymore but he’ll always have his friends. The people he’s known most of his life.

Before Lewis and Sebastian it was them. It was always them.

There are no anniversaries for the date of friendships, there are no balloons, hearts and dinners. It’s like friendship is thought of as secondary, as an afterthought, as something that is not as important — if not more important than relationships. 

But Charles’ friendships have been all this and so much more. It is till death do us part, it is in sickness and in health, it is a vow and a promise to be there for each other, to share your grief, your happiness and your life. 

It was Pierre he ran to when he kicked his boyfriends out of his apartment. It was Pierre who held him in his arms and hushed him with comforting words.

It was George and Alex who sat with him in his hotel room the night of his maiden win when everything felt too heavy. They barely spoke but the steady pressure of his friend’s shoulders against his own as they played on the Playstation kept him from falling apart.

They are the water that quenches his rage, they are the fire that inspires him when he’s too beaten down to move. They will keep him safe from his own thoughts.

“Sounds good mate, I’ll meet you back at the hotel?”

Carlos smiles on a nod and leaves, closing the door behind him. Charles falls to the floor and cries for the sixth day in a row.

-

Sebastian’s eyes blink open slowly when the generic ringtone breaks through his sleep fogged brain.

“Turn it off, Seb,” Lewis murmurs from beside him, rolling away and shoving his head under the pillow.

Sebastian shifts his body upwards still not entirely sure where the noise is coming from until he sees his phone vibrating on the bedside table.

He clumsily reaches out a hand to grab it, stiffening when his eyes open enough to make out the picture on the caller ID.

It’s a picture of Charles, one he took of him months ago. The Monegasque’s hair is sticking up in every direction - as if he’d been electrocuted. A sleepy smile on his face and half lidded eyes.

“Charles, are you okay?” He rushes down the phone. Lewis bolts upright in the bed, looking at him with panicked eyes.

“Seb, hi, It’s Carlos. I’m really sorry to ring you in the middle of the night but we’ve all been out and Charles is really drunk. Lando, George, and Alex have already gone back to the hotel but I can’t get Charles to come back with me. He’s not in a good way. I hate to ask, but would you be able to come and help?”

Lewis must have been able to hear the conversation because he’s already getting out of the bed and ungracefully pulling on his clothes.

“Text me the address. We’ll be as quick as we can. Is he okay?”

The silence over the phone is deafening and Sebastian feels his heart beating worryingly fast.

Carlos sighs, “I don’t think so mate. Just get here as soon as you can please,”

They get there in ten minutes. Sebastian is just glad that the club the younger drivers had gone to was a local one.

Carlos is leaning against the wall on the deserted street desperately trying to hold up his teammate who is limp in his arms.

“Fuck sake,” Lewis mutters, as they approach and Carlos looks up at them as if they are his saviours.

“I tried to get him to drink some water but he wouldn’t. Can you two help me get him back to the hotel?”

Sebastian shakes his head, “We’ll take him back to Lewis’. Thank you for looking out for him, Carlos, we’ve got it from here,”

The Spaniard looks between them on a frown, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? He told me that you had…”

Lewis sighs, “We haven’t broken up, not properly. We are just going through something. We love him, Carlos. We’re going to look after him,”

“I don’t know if he’d want to go back to yours. I just needed some help getting him back to our hotel,”

Lewis can feel his impatience growing. He’s glad that Charles has friends in his life that will protect him but why they think he needs protecting from them - he has no idea. As if they would ever do anything to hurt him.

“Carlos, it’ll be fine. We’ll make sure he’s okay. Are you going to be able to get back alright?”

Carlos gives them one last unconvinced look before nodding slightly and practically shoving the younger man into their arms.

Lewis and Sebastian grunt at the impact as they manoeuvre the paralytic body between them.

“Does he need to go to a hospital? How much has he had to drink?” Sebastian questions in concern, looking down at the brunette.

“He’ll be okay, a bad hangover but okay. He’s still awake,” Carlos replies, and to prove his point leans down in front of the slumped Ferrari driver and gently smacks his cheek, “Charles, you’re going back with Lewis and Sebastian. I’ll text you tomorrow okay?”

Charles mumbles something incoherent back but snuggles into Lewis’ shoulder.

Carlos snorts a laugh, “Look after him,” He orders, before walking off in the direction of his own hotel.

-

The cold air from the walk back and the three glasses of water they’d practically forced down Charles’ throat seem to have sobered the younger man up a bit.

Sebastian and Lewis look at him hesitantly as he stares across the Austrian skyline through the window.

"Charles…” Lewis is at loss. What could he say, what could make that beautiful boy open up to him once again?

"Talk to us. Please? If we don't talk, we can't... I don't understand what happened, Charles,”

“What do you want to talk about? I need to go back to my hotel. Thanks for looking after me,” Charles replies evenly, turning around so he didn’t have to face the two men.

Sebastian wants to strangle him. Sometimes Charles drove him so insane he wonders how he’s not in prison for murder yet.

“Let’s start with why you’re ignoring us,” He suggests harshly, “This isn’t how relationships work, Charles. You can’t just decide you don’t want to be a part of it anymore and then leave. We need to talk about it,”

He wishes that Charles would turn around so he could read him, but he doesn’t. The younger man stares out of the hotel window as if it could give him all the answers.

“What’s there to talk about? We are not right for each other anymore,” Charles answers quietly.

He doesn’t mean it and he knows if he turns around and looks into their eyes then he’ll cave. He’ll give in and beg them to take him back.

Then it will begin again. The endless cycle of him having to be away from them for Ferrari and it causing friction in their relationship.

The cracks in their relationship that will only get worse once the older men retire. He’s doing this for them just as much as him.

He doesn’t want to put them through anymore pain, and he doesn’t want himself to have go through anymore later down the line.

It’s inevitable if they get back together. In a couple of years when he’s still racing and they’re not - they’ll be in this same situation. Only it will hurt even more.

By then they’ll have years of memories that he’d need to burn from his brain just to be able to sleep at night.

“Look me in the eyes and say that. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t think we are meant for each other,”

Sebastian crosses the room to stand behind the younger man, his hand resting over his shoulder blade, “Look me in the eye and say it,” He repeats softly.

Charles can feel the tears start to prick at his eyes. The warmth of Sebastian’s hand radiates through his body and he’s missed the older man’s touch. He wants it to leave imprints on his skin.

“I can’t,” He whispers, “But it doesn’t mean that I’m not right,”

Lewis breezes past them and stops in front of the youngest man, gripping his cheeks in his hands, “You’re not right, Charlie. We belong together. Whatever this is we can work through it,”

Charles pulls away and moves to lie down on the bed, knowing his legs won’t hold his heavy body much longer, “I don’t know what more you want from me! I can’t give you anymore!”

“It feels like we are the only ones in this relationship,” Lewis argues, waving a finger between him and Sebastian, “You’re always checked out whenever we do actually get to see you, looking like there’s somewhere else you’d rather be,”

“Because there always is somewhere else I have to be! I don’t want to be away from you all the time but I have to keep up my commitment to my team,”

“What about your commitment to us, Charles? Do you not think we know how busy you are? Do you not think we are just as busy as you? It’s not an excuse though, when you love someone you always make time for them and you stopped doing that,” Sebastian challenges, sitting down on the edge of the bed and resting a hand on the younger man’s ankle, “It’s not fair for us to give you everything and for you to give us nothing in return. That’s not how relationships work. Do you understand what we are saying?”

And Sebastian makes it sound so simple that he could laugh. Every part of him is more committed to them than Ferrari but that’s not how the world works. It’s not realistic.

Ferrari has to be his life. He is the leader of the team albeit it hasn’t felt much like it recently. If he didn’t give them 100% they would throw him out and pin their hopes on a new talent.

Everyone said a lot of things about him. ‘Il predestinato’ the Tifosi called him. The Ferrari Prince. The nicknames had become a burden now. Weighing him down race after race. An unrelenting pressure that made him feel one race away from a burn out.

From the moment Jules died his future had been written out for him. It was his job to fulfil Jules’ legacy. To make him proud. To make his Father proud. He couldn’t let anything get in the way of that.

He’s pretty sure he’s destined to be alone anyway. Everyone in his life is taken from him too soon. Sebastian and Lewis will be no different. They will move on and he will stay in the same place, trying and failing to fill the shoes of legends.

“I love you! I love the both of you more than anything! I’d die for you! I’d murder for you,” Charles screeches, throwing himself up to a sitting position and looking between them, “But I need you to understand that my team is important too. They made me who I am, every bit of me is Ferrari. They own me. I owe everything to them. I won’t sacrifice that,”

Lewis sighs in defeat. Here they are again; at the same impasse. All of them so stubborn and refusing to budge. This is where it all went wrong last time. They screamed at each other but none of them were really hearing the words.

It can go one of two ways; they’ll argue and they’ll lose Charles for good or they can talk it out properly. He’s learnt from their mistakes this time.

“You don’t owe Ferrari anything, Charles. You don’t owe anyone anything,” Lewis soothes, sitting down next to Sebastian and clasping a hand over Charles’ mouth when he goes to argue, “The only person you owe anything to is yourself. You deserve to be happy and I don’t think you are,”

And something in Charles breaks. The tears start falling and his cheeks are soaked. “This will only get worse when you retire, you’ll start to hate me. I know it,”

Sebastian gapes when everything connects in his head. “Is this what this is all about? You’re worried about what things will be like when we retire?” He asks slowly, trying to gauge the younger man’s reaction.

Charles groans and closes his eyes, “It’s everything,” He cries, “You two are already upset about me being too busy but it’ll only get worse when I’m the only one racing and then we’ll break up again. It just feels like everyone is against me,”

“Firstly, Charlie, we haven’t broken up, okay?” Sebastian states on arched eyebrow, smirking slightly at the frown on his boyfriend’s face, “We’ve had an argument. We are still right here and we always will be. Secondly, you need to get this idea out of your head that everything will fall apart when we retire,”

The Monegasque frowns and looks between then, “But you two were so angry at me for not coming back to see you. It’d be easier if we weren’t together,”

“We were angry, Charles, but that was just because we missed you,” Lewis explains on a soft smile, stroking his thumb across the younger man’s cheek, “We just want to spend more time with you. I promise that even when we eventually retire our relationship won’t change. Things will be a little different because we won’t be racing but our feelings will stay the same. We’ll still love you more than anything,”

“I need you both to understand I’m trying so hard,” He sobs, “I’m trying but it feels like I’m drowning,”

Lewis remembers when Charles joined the sport - the paddock had been alight with whispers about the newest young hot shot. Max Verstappen’s famed rival.

At the time he didn’t think it was fair that Charles’ fate had already been planned out. He would do a year as a rookie and then he’d drive for Ferrari his whole career. He would bring the team back to the top. It would be enough to intimidate even the most seasoned driver but Charles was so worryingly young.

And as he looks at the distraught young man in front of him he realises that Charles has broken under the pressure. After years of carrying a struggling team on his back only to have them turn against him - he’s ruined.

“We do understand that Charlie. Everyone can see you’re trying your best but you can’t do this alone. You need to let people help you. When you isolate yourself in Maranello surrounded by a team that’s only causing you pain, it makes things harder. Let us be there for you. We want to be there for you,”

Charles pulls his head out of Sebastian’s chest and looks at the oldest man warily, “I can’t promise that things are going to get easier. I’ll still need to be in Maranello,”

“Do you promise that you’ll try? Promise that you’ll try to come home more? That you’ll try and make time for us?”

Charles frowns on a nod. Of course he would try to do that. He would do anything for them.

“Then that’s enough, sweetheart. We won’t ever ask for more of you than what you can give, and I’m sorry if it ever felt like we did,”

“I don’t deserve either of you,”

Sebastian smiles softly and presses a kiss to Charles’ lips, “You deserve everything, Charles,”

They all knew that however big a part they played in each other’s lives, they weren’t the only thing in them, and that made each other all the more important. They knew that they loved each other because they felt worthy of love, and that feeling was thrilling and reassuring, all at once.
_______________________________________________

Sebastian knows loss well, too well. Yet it still burns his insides, still makes him dig his nails into the palms of his hands until the stinging sensation radiates up his arms, down his chest and through his fireproofs.

It hurts more then he thought it would, more than he remembers it hurting. He can’t face his engineers, he knows he’s let them down, knows that if he hadn’t pushed so hard around that corner then he could’ve got them back on the podium. He could have recreated the joy that radiated around the garage a year ago. God if only-

“Seb,”

The voice interrupting his thoughts is the same one he hears everyday. The same one that wakes him up almost every morning. The same one that whispers hushed goodnights to him.

“Lewis,”

Lewis watches the German from the doorway, taking in the entirety of his driver’s room. It’s a mess. Sebastian had obviously taken his frustration from the race out on his belongings.

He knows that although Sebastian had seemed stable during the media pen - he wasn’t. He never liked to show his weaknesses on camera, preferring to keep his feelings locked away deep inside, safe from critiques and judgment.

There’s not too much he can say to his boyfriend. Sebastian knows he fucked up. Lewis knows he fucked up. Everyone watching knows it and it will be spoke about all week until someone inevitably makes a mistake at the next race.

Formula 1 is a dream that only very few will get to live. It’s a dream but it can be a nightmare too. There’s not many other jobs where your mistakes will be thrown in your face by taunting reporters. The unforgiving pressure can cause havoc on your mental health.

“What can I do?” Lewis asks gently, finally edging into the room and quietly shutting the door behind him.

Sebastian snorts and rubs his palms in his eyes until he’s seeing spots, “Get me a time machine,” He mutters, then drops his hands to look at Lewis, “I fucked up,”

Lewis shrugs his shoulders and crosses the room to his boyfriend, wrapping him in his arms, “You’re allowed to fuck up, Seb. You’re only human. You’re allowed to make mistakes,”

Sebastian sighs into his shoulder, “The mistakes I make now end up with everyone saying I should retire. At least ten years ago when I made a mistake they just said it was lack of experience. I don’t have an excuse anymore,”

He had lost that cockiness of young age, the feeling that he was immortal and unbreakable, the pride of being the best. The certainty that nobody could defeat him except himself had given way to a new person, someone with a tired smile and creases under his eyes who was unsure if he should even be in the sport anymore.

Sometimes, he feels like he just couldn’t catch a fucking break. From the media, from the nasty comments, from his body, from his car. From everyone’s expectations.

Lewis pulls back and rests their foreheads together, “They don’t know a fucking thing, Seb. You’re one of the greats,”

Sebastian feels like he’s choking. Where is the air and why can’t he breathe? Maybe he should just quit. He has had enough of this life.

“Sometimes it feels like I can’t fucking breathe. They are watching me and waiting for me to fail,”

“You need to ignore them, Seb. You never let them get to you before. Don’t let them do this to you now,” Lewis pleads, cupping the younger man’s face tightly.

And Sebastian knows that. He’s not sure why he’s started to pay attention to what the media are saying. Once you start to read it you can’t stop.

It’s so hard to stay confident when so many people are breathing down his neck and he has to keep ignoring them and he has to pretend everything is fine even if he can feel their words under his skin every so often and -

and if he’s being honest, he’s so tired of it all.

He wants more years, he knows that. He just doesn’t want more years like this. Years where the wins are becoming more of a distant memory every week.

“Why are we still doing this, Lewis? How long am I going to keep going on with a shit car?”

Lewis wishes that he could take the pain away from Sebastian. He’d shoulder it all himself it meant that his boyfriend could have one race where he got the position he deserved.

“This sport needs you, Seb. Look at how well Ferrari are doing now. Do you know how Charles is going to win the championship this year? He’s going to win it because of you. He’s going to win it because of all the work you put into that shit team when they gave you nothing back. Before Charles, you were the one that held Ferrari together. Now you’re the one holding Aston Martin together,”

Sebastian snorts and lowers his head to the man’s shoulder, “So I’m the one building up the teams and then all these young guns will come in and get the glory?”

Lewis tilts his head to look at his boyfriend on a smile, “Those young guns still have a lot to learn, Seb. You’re a four time world champion and no one can ever take that away from you,”

Formula 1 is the kind of sport that expects everything from you and nothing less.

Next week he’ll get in the car and go again.
_______________________________________________

Rain splashed against the clear glass of Sebastian’s living room window. The low murmur of the news presenter on the TV echoed throughout the otherwise silent room.

Charles watches the rain drip down the window as if the sky is crying with him. Whereas the rain drops onto the grass outside, Charles’ tears drip onto the wooden floor.

The view has become blurry and Charles isn’t sure if it is the rain against the window or the tears falling from his eyes.

He knew this was coming. Sebastian and Lewis had brought it up in conversation before when they were still mulling it over but now they’ve made their decision.

It felt like an ambush when they’d told him over the dinner table a few hours ago, as he’d been sitting their bathing in the joy of another victory and surrounded by his greatest loves.

Just as quickly as he passed Max on the last corner of the track to take the win though, was his happiness snatched from him.

Charles can’t even remember the last time he was deliriously happy - not in the same way he was as a child. His life now revolves around early mornings, strict fitness regimes, the endless press interviews and the long hours.

And to top it all off he’d now be doing it alone.

A hand on his shoulder drags him out his thoughts and he turns to find Lewis and Sebastian looking at him with worried frowns.

Lewis squeezes his shoulder, aimlessly dragging his thumb across the soft material of his hoodie, “Charlie, everything is going to be okay. I promise,”

Charles closes his eyes briefly on a sigh because Lewis can’t promise that. He can mean it with every fibre in his body but he can’t promise it.

There’s no way of knowing how the three of them not racing together will impact on their relationship. His boyfriends are convinced it won’t make a difference; that if anything it’ll make things easier.

They’ll no longer have to compete against each other. Charles will be able to tell them any issues with his car, with his laps, with his team, and they would be able to give him advice. They’d no longer have to keep things to themselves to benefit their teams.

“You don’t know that,” He breathes, trying to turn back around but not being able to when Sebastian pulls him into a tight embrace and cards his fingers through his hair.

“We do know, Charlie. This was always going to happen. You knew that,”

It only drags another sigh out of Charles’ mouth because of course he knew this was going to happen.

Lewis and Sebastian are a lot older than him, they’ve been in the sport for over a decade longer; of course they would retire before him. It was just something he tried not think about. Their presence on the grid, even if he didn’t always see them, offered him a sense of warmth that he’d never had before.

He’s not sure he can survive without them there. The two men had always been there even when they weren’t together, they were stoic role models who offered him advice and helped settle him in to the sport.

“Please stay,” He cries, and it’s unfair. It’s so unfair of him to ask that of them.

It’s unfair because he’s seen what over a decade of brutal racing has done to them, and he can see that they’re no longer in love with the sport.

It’s unfair because no one else can decide when someone retires. Lewis and Sebastian retiring is their choice and it’s only their choice.

And if he put aside his own selfish agenda then he would be happy for them. He’d be happy that they would finally have a break, that they would be able to spend time doing all the other things they enjoyed.

Charles is a race driver though, and race drivers are selfish.

“Charles, please. Stop asking. It breaks my heart to tell you no every time,” Lewis replies softly, almost fragile, as if his heart could break any minute.

Sebastian pulls back and holds him at arm’s length with his hands resting on his shoulders, “What is it you are worried about, Charles? Tell us and I promise once we’ve spoken about it you won’t be anymore. Is it that you’ll be lonely on the grid? You won’t, you’ve got so many friends. Is that you’re worried we’ll see each other less? We wont, we’ll come to as many of your races as we can and it’ll be just the same as it is now,”

It’s both of those things that he’s worried about and Sebastian’s comforting answers don’t soothe him too much.

But how does he tell his boyfriends that the thing he’s most worried about is them forgetting him?

How does he tell them he can imagine them spending everyday together getting into a routine of country walks and brunches without him when he’s off across the world.

That he’s worried they will realise they don’t love him like they love each other.

“You two will make a life without me, you’ll realise you don’t need me,” When he spoke, it sounded like his voice was made of gravel. His clear tone was undercut with a choking heaviness that forced him to pause several times. His watery eyes closed and a single tear, as clear as spring water flowed down his cheeks. Eventually he stopped trying and lowered his head in a quiet sob.

“Charles,” Lewis snaps, his voice catching in his throat, “That is ridiculous,”

Charles raises his eyes at the harsh tone in shock and finds the older man scowling at him.

“It really is, Charlie. If you worried about feeling left out then you really don’t need to be. Seb and I both have things we want to pursue separately, but we’ll always come home to each other,” He says, bringing a hand up to Charles’ cheek and cupping it, “But so will you. We’ll always come home and it’ll be like nothing has changed,”

“You’ll be spending a lot more time together though. You might decide you prefer it that way,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes because sometimes he can’t believe the things that come out of his boyfriend’s mouth.

As if anyone could ever get to have Charles Leclerc in their life in the same way they have had the privilege of and ever let him go.

Charles is still learning though. He’s still learning about his racing style, his strengths and weaknesses, and he’s still learning about life.

He’s still at an age where relationships are about finding out who you are, as much as about being with someone else.

“Charles, you are stuck with us forever, okay? We are going to be cheering you on when you win however many world championships you do. We are going to be helping you up when everything feels too much. We are always going to be here and we are always going to love you, okay?”

Charles smiles because he might still be sad to see his boyfriends leave the sport that they’d cemented their names in forever, but at least he knows they’re not leaving him.

“I don’t ever want to live without either of you,”

Sometimes when he’s in a dark place and the only light at the end of the tunnel are his boyfriends’ comforting arms, he’s sure of that. He’s certain that he wants to die before Sebastian and Lewis.

He can’t imagine living in a world where they’re not with him. He doesn’t want to live in a world where they’re not with him.

Chapter Text

Charles doesn’t quite understand how he got here. He’s sitting on his bathroom floor, naked, with the lights off. He can’t face himself, he’s too devastated. Too emotionally raw. 

He didn’t set out to do this. He didn’t ever have any intention of doing this to himself. They had been educated on mental health at Formula Medicine - about how the sport can be mentally draining. He’d brushed it off though.

He didn’t see how inflicting pain on yourself was supposed to make the emotional pain any less. No, he much preferred take his frustration out on the track. At least there he could normally get a victory out of it too.

Needless to say, he didn’t expect to be sitting here like this. 

It has been a disturbingly long day. He’d pushed too hard fighting for the P3 position and had ended up spinning off the track and falling back to P6. As if it couldn’t get any worse it all happened in front of Ferrari’s home crowd.

He might have survived the day if it wasn’t for Carlos taking first place. The Tifosi weren’t cheering his name anymore. He wasn’t their Prince anymore. In the same way they’d gone from screaming Sebastian’s name to his, they’d moved onto Carlos.

Charles had been pushed to the side. He would soon be forgotten as just another man who failed to bring Ferrari back to their glory days.

The shower that he’d hoped would wash away the stress of the day had only pushed him to his last tether. The images of the swarms of red chanting his teammates name, of Mattia berating him and singing Carlos’ praises, of Lewis and Sebastian’s sympathetic faces before he ran off to his hotel. It was too much.

So when the razor had accidentally nicked his arm as it fell from it’s spot on the shower caddy, Charles was already emotionally at his wits end.

He had been bent over trying to pick the razor up when he noticed the drops of red dribbling down his arm and mixing with the water. It was fascinating. Hypnotizing. And before Charles really understood what his body was doing, the razor was squeezed tightly in his fist and was cutting again. 

The pain was sharp and sudden, but faded as soon as the beautiful red started to run. He never realized how beautiful blood could be. The color was bright and painful but soothing at the same time. Stunning. He had watched as his blood fell to the bottom of the shower and mixed with the water until it turned pink and pooled around the drain. 

Charles stared at his wrist. He tried to breathe and will the thoughts away but they were swimming at the front of his mind. He deserved this. He deserved to feel nothing but sheering pain.

He brings the blade to his skin and that was that. The shame of not going to Sebastian and Lewis like they’d asked him to reduced each time the blade cut cleanly across his pale skin. They’d made him promise that he would talk to them if he ever felt things were getting too much. He’d broken his promise but this was better. He deserved this.

The blade is sliding into his skin for the fourth time when there’s banging at the bathroom door.

“Charlie, are you in there?”

Sebastian.

Charles freezes and the blade falls to the floor next to him. He cups his hand over his mouth trying to stop the sobs escaping. Sebastian and Lewis could never know about this. He can already picture the looks of pure dread on their faces. It’s enough to make him feel sick.

“Charles, open the door,” Lewis shouts, pulling at the door handle desperately but the iron lock across the top meant his attempts are futile.

“I’ll be five minutes, I’m in the shower!” Charles screeches back, jumping up from the floor turning on the lights, and desperately searching around for something to wipe up the blood dripping down his arm.

He curses internally when he realises he’s left his towel on the bed. The fresh cuts on his arms are starting to sting and he can’t even look at them. This was stupid. He never should have done this.

“Open the fucking door right now, Charles! I know you’re not in the shower!” Lewis yells, and the door vibrates on it’s hinges when the man forces his shoulder into it.

The tears are blurring his vision as he scrambles to turn on the taps. The water feels like acid on the cuts but at least the blood is washing away.

“Charles if you don’t open the door in three seconds then we’ll break it down,” Sebastian warns, continuing to hammer on the door.

Charles groans in frustration. The blood is still dripping out of his arm and it doesn’t seem like it’ll stop anytime soon.

There’s no escape. He knows that Sebastian and Lewis will break down the door with no regard for the consequences. Charles though did not want to have to explain to Mattia why Ferrari are footing a bill for a new bathroom door.

With one last look in the mirror, he scrubs at his cheeks and shoves his wounded arm behind his back as he opens the door.

Lewis and Sebastian assess him with narrowed eyes.

“What were you doing in there, Charlie?” Sebastian asks quietly, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, “You’ve been crying,” He deduces, stroking his thumb across the tear stains.

Sebastian wipes the stray tear from his boyfriend’s cheek and glances around the bathroom trying to figure out what he’d been doing in there.

The look of pure devastation on the younger man’s face implies it hadn’t been anything good. His heart breaks at the thought of Charles alone in the bathroom crying his bleeding heart out.

Lewis picks up a towel from the bed and holds it out to Charles. He goes to take it with his right hand before quickly pulling it back and hiding it again.

Lewis furrows his brow and steps closer, still holding the towel in his hand, “What are you hiding?” He asks, craning his neck to see what his boyfriend was keeping behind his back.

Charles shakes his head vehemently, “Nothing!” He cries, tucking his arm further behind his back, “Can you just pass me my clothes so I can get dressed, please?”

“Show me your arm, Charles,”

Charles shifts his gaze to the German. It was an order and there’s no warmth in his tone. Sebastian is in charge right now.

Sebastian feels the blood in his veins turn to ice as the realisation dawns on him. The distraught look in Charles’ eyes, the razor on the floor. It’s not the first time he’s seen a driver harm them self. He had hoped the the previous time would be the last though.

Charles is strong, perhaps the strongest person he knows. The idea that his boyfriend would ever do something like this is unimaginable.

“No,” Charles replies meekly, ducking his head at the heated look coming his way.

“Charles, show me it right now,”

He looks around searching for anything that could cover his cuts or distract the older men. Whilst he’s frantically trying to find a way out though, Sebastian must reach his breaking point because he flings his arm forward to grab Charles’ own.

Charles cries when the sudden move pulls at the fresh wounds and he cries harder when he looks up to see the faces of his boyfriends.

“Fuck, Charles!” Sebastian yells, pulling him closer and holding his arm in front of him, looking at the slits decorating his skin, “What the fuck have you done? You stupid, stupid boy,” He chokes, tears forming in his eyes blue eyes.

Lewis wraps the towel around his arm, mopping up the dribbles of blood coating his skin. “Oh Charlie, why have you done this?” He murmurs as he delicately wipes up the last drops of bright blood.

Charles can’t answer them. The shame is too much. What would his Mother think if she knew he’d done this? What must Lewis and Sebastian think of him?

He’s pathetic. He should have cut his wrist. He doesn’t deserve to be here anymore.

“Have you got bandages?” Lewis asks calmly, knowing Andrea normally made Charles carry some form of first aid kit.

Charles nods but gives no more of a response. Lewis sighs and moves to his suitcase, digging through for anything to cover up the ugly cuts on his boyfriend’s arm.

“Why, Charles? Why didn’t you come to us?” Sebastian questions roughly, the lump in his throat clear from the deepening of his voice.

He doesn’t get a chance to reply, not that he could have, because Lewis appears back in the doorway with bandages.

The oldest man looks at Charles with hollow eyes as he gently wraps the white bandages around his arm, a single tear dropping onto the fabric.

Charles looks down at his now bandaged arm and feels like he wants the ground to swallow him up.

“Get some clothes on so we can talk,” Sebastian instructs, slipping his arm around the younger man and guiding him into the bedroom.

Lewis and Sebastian help him get dressed when the tears start falling down his cheeks again and it becomes too difficult to do it himself.

He perches in the arm chair in the corner of the room avoiding the stares of the older men from where they’re seated opposite him at the end of the bed.

Lewis tries to form a sentence, anything to reassure his boyfriend. He can’t though because more than anything he’s angry at Charles, and he knows it won’t help the situation.

He’s angry that the younger man would ever resort to this rather than coming to them for help. For all he knows, Charles does this all the time as a way of coping. He likes to think they’d have realised - they see his naked body almost every day.

Charles would hide it though. He’d hide it in the same way he hides his emotions behind his flawless smile and perfect hair.

“How often do you do this, Charles?”

Sebastian’s voice breaks the tension in the room and the questions causes Charles’ wide eyes to flick to the older man’s.

“I’ve never done this before,” He splutters, and the look of uncertainty on his boyfriend’s face enrages him. Did Sebastian really think he just went home after races and cut up his own skin? This was a one off. This was everything getting too much. He’d never do it again.

“I haven’t! Anyway even if I had it’s nothing to do with you!” He snaps, glaring at the man.

Sebastian’s eyes soften, “Don’t, Charles. Don’t start getting angry. I want to help you. Do you promise me this is the first time?”

The change in tone encourages Charles to let his defences down. They know how to do this now. They knew how to talk about things.

“It’s the first time,” He confirms quietly.

Sebastian nods absentmindedly looking like his thoughts are running away from him.

He keeps his steady gaze on the younger man and racks his brain for any warning signs that they might have missed. How had they let Charles get to this point? How had they not seen he was struggling to the point where he would willingly harm himself?

“Why, Charles? What happened? Was it the race? You got P6, that’s not so bad. You raced well other than that corner. I don’t understand,” Lewis asks.

Charles sighs, he really doesn’t want to talk about it. He wishes Lewis and Sebastian would just let things go. He wishes they didn’t care so much.

“I don’t want to talk about it,”

Lewis’ eyes narrow and he scoffs in anger, “I don’t really care to be honest, Charles. You’re going to talk about it. There is no way that you’re going to do something like this and we are not talking about it,”

Charles shoots pleading eyes at his boyfriend - begging him not to make him do this. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s embarrassed. He’s a fraud.

Lewis glares at him though and he knows that they won’t let him leave the room until he’s opened up.

“Everything just felt too much today. Carlos won and I fucked up,”

“But why would you hurt yourself, Charles?”

Charles raises his eyes to look at them, and wonders if he should just tell them the truth.

They deserve the truth. He’s tired of lying to them.

“Because I deserved it,”

The words cause bile to rise in Sebastian’s throat. No one has ever been harder on themselves than Charles is. He recalls their time as teammates and the way Charles would let his mistakes on the track drag him down to the point he struggled to get back up.

He sighs and runs his hand down his face, “Come here, Charles,” He states, sliding over on the edge of the bed to make a space between him and Lewis.

Charles hesitantly walks over and sits between them, feeling himself relax when their arms wrap around him.

“You do not deserve this, Charles. I know things are hard for you at the moment but you do not deserve this. Do you feel like you want to do it again?”

“No,” Charles answers quickly, already knowing that if he said yes then this will turn into the older men forcing him to see a psychologist or something.

Lewis shoots him a look, “Don’t be like that, Charles. Don’t try and shrug us off. Just be honest. We are not angry but we need to know if you’ll need anymore help. Do you think you’ll do this again?”

Charles purses his lips as he thinks about the blade digging into his skin. It didn’t give him the satisfaction he thought it would. It gave him nothing. He doesn’t feel any better now, if anything he feels worse.

“No, I won’t do this again. I’m sorry,” He murmurs.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Charles. We just need to know if you ever feel like this again that you’ll come to us. I don’t know if I can trust you to. You promised that you’d talk to us,”

Charles looks down at his hands resting on his lap in shame, “I know. I should have. I didn’t want your sympathy though,”

Lewis considers strangling him. Charles had always been this way. As if reaching out for help is a sign of weakness. Charles refuses to act anything but strong. It always leads to situations like this; Charles breaking down in tears, Charles hurting himself.

You can only pretend to be made of stone with an impenetrable core for so long. Eventually it’ll catch up on you and the entire world come crashing down.

Lewis sighs and presses his lips the younger man’s temple, “Charlie, all we ever want to do is listen so that we can help,” He promises, stroking his thumb across the bandage, “We love you, sweetheart. This is not okay. It can never happen again,”

“It won’t,”

Sebastian shuffles on the bed to pull Charles’ back into his chest and presses a soft kiss to hair, “If it does then I’m going to talk to someone on your team. I won’t yet but I would recommend that you do. Someone there needs to know what’s going on,”

Charles tilts his head to look up at his boyfriend with narrowed eyes. Sebastian looks back just as fiercely, “No, Charles. If this happens again then I am talking to them. This is too serious. The thought of you doing this to yourself makes me feel sick. You’re amazing and I wish you could see that,”

“I don’t feel amazing, I feel like a failure,” Charles mumbles, feeling the lump in his throat and the way his lip starts to tremble.

“You are amazing, Charles. We’ll just have to work harder to show you,” Lewis murmurs into his hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo.

A world without Charles Leclerc isn’t a world Lewis would ever want to live in.
_______________________________________________

The fireworks light up the sky and the fans’ cheers echo around the stand. Charles jumps up and down on the podium, holding the large trophy with tears dripping down his face.

Mattia stands next to him, drenching him in champagne. The sticky alcohol washes through his hair, pushing it down on his forehead. The gold confetti falls around the three drivers on the podium, sticking to their wet racing suits and hair.

The Monegasque hands the trophy to his team principal and picks up the bottle of champagne, bringing it to his lips and gulping from the bottle. The sweat, tears, and alcohol combining to make his skin sparkle under the bright lights of the cameras.

Charles steps down from the top step and pulls Max into a tight embrace. The fans erupt in cheers at the sight. Max pulls back slightly and places both hands on either side of the younger man’s face, saying something that makes Charles grin widely. The Dutchman pulls the Ferrari driver in for a final hug before walking off behind the podium.

Sebastian has never known such an amazing atmosphere. The Ferrari fans are undoubtedly the best fans in the world and they have followed Charles through the highs and lows of the year. The first Ferrari championship in almost 15 years. There was only ever going to be one person that brought the red team back to their glory days. Their Prince.

“Charles Leclerc is the 2022 world champion!” The words reverberate around the Abu Dhabi track. The fireworks paint the sky in red and the crowd goes wild. Charles falls to his knees on the stage, the emotions overwhelming him to the point where can’t stand on his own feet anymore.

“He fucking did it man,” Lewis murmurs from beside him.

Sebastian turns to look at his boyfriend and smiles when he sees the unshed tears in his proud eyes.

“I always knew he would,”

As he watches the love of his life up on the podium the emotions begin to stir in him. The memories of his own world championship’s flicking through his head.

Everyone chanting his name and the feel of the trophy in his hand. He was only 23 the first time, just a kid. He’s glad to still hold that record although he suspects it might be broken in the next decade looking at the talent coming up through the Formula leagues.

He’s proud of the his career in F1, he might not have had the best years recently but he is still a four time world champion. 53 wins and 122 podiums. No one can take that away from him.

The fireworks blast into the sky and Charles feels like his whole life has been leading up this moment. His third win in a row and his first championship.

Microphones are shoved into his face, and people are chanting his name. The lights of hundreds of cameras are lighting up the paddock.

His friends run up to him, engulfing him in hugs. They are all crying. He’s crying. The emotions seep through him and he collapses to the floor on his knees. The grin on his face and the tears on his cheeks. He’s done it. He’s a world champion.

A camera flashes in his face as he kneels on the floor. That will be the photo posted all over the papers tomorrow.

He stands up knowing there’s only two people he wants to be with in this moment. He sprints to his room stopping to thank fellow drivers, team managers and reporters as they congratulate him. He’s as polite as he can be when all he really wants is to be back in his driver’s room.

He manages to escape when the fireworks start getting louder and everyone looks up at them in awe. He rushes off in search of the two people that will make the victory even sweeter.

Slamming the door open he grins wildly when he sees Lewis and Sebastian cuddled up on the sofa, looking at something on Lewis’ phone.

They jump up and he’s dragged into their bodies, tight arms wrapping around him and sloppy kisses marking his face.

“We are so fucking proud of you, Charlie. This was always going to be your year,” Lewis praises, cupping the younger man’s face between his hands and drawing him in for a deep kiss.

Charles pulls back and scrubs at the stray tears on his cheeks, “I’m the world champion,” He mumbles, mesmerised. As if he still can’t quite believe that the words Charles Leclerc and world champion could ever be in the same sentence.

Sebastian beams, caressing his thumb across the wet cheek, “You’ve always been a champion, Charlie. You’ll always be our champion,”

“I love you, I love you both so much. I couldn’t have done this without you,”
_______________________________________________

Lewis smiles as he watches Charles up on the podium. The younger man hadn’t quite made it to the top of the podium this year. P2 in the championship was the best he could do after suffering more than his fair share of DNFs.

It’s comforting to see it doesn’t impact on Charles in the same way anymore. The Monegasque is a world champion now and he’s older, he doesn’t let the losses hit him as hard, he only uses them to make him better.

Charles wraps his arms around Max and covers him in champagne, laughing as the Dutchman tries to grab the bottle out of his hands. They are the future of F1. They are the rivalry that will lead this sport for the next ten years.

Lewis is proud of both of them, one of them a lot more obviously, but still both of them. Max and Charles had come a long way from arguing over races and fighting in bars. They use each other to better themselves now and they’d become friends. It’s enough that Lewis has no qualms leaving the sport behind. The future of F1 is safe in their hands.

The fireworks in the sky mark the end of the 2023 season. Lewis’ last season. He had announced his retirement after the summer break. In the end it wasn’t really a difficult choice. He was no longer competing in F1. He was racing but he wasn’t winning any more. He didn’t live for racing anymore and his heart was no longer in the sport.

Formula 1 is ready for the new generation of drivers, like Charles. Lewis is ready to step aside and watch the younger man achieve many more wins. He used to love racing more than anything else. Now he loves Charles and Sebastian more than anything else.

Lewis thought it would be harder saying goodbye to the sport that had been his family - his home, for almost twenty years.

He remembers discussing the idea of retirement with Jenson and the older man assuring him that when the time came he would know.

And he was right. Lewis knows it’s time now. A part of him will always be at this track. His heart though, his heart will be wherever Sebastian and Charles are.

He smiles when Sebastian suddenly appears beside him, “I’ll meet you back at Charles’ hotel after the parties?”

Mercedes and Aston Martin were both throwing retirement parties for them. Lewis would have much preferred to celebrate the end of an era together but that would end with far too many questions.

So he nods and slips an arm around the younger man, “I’ll see you soon. Don’t get too drunk,” He teases, grinning when the German rolls his eyes.

Sebastian wonders off back to his garage and Lewis heads to his own.

Toto wraps him into a tight hug and thanks him for everything he’d done in the team, he of course also cheekily asks if there’s anyway he could convince Lewis to stay for another two years.

Lewis rolls his eyes fondly because the man has already asked him that several times. He repeats the same answer of it being time for him to retire and that he wishes the team many successes to come.

George had ended up third in the championship this year and Lewis is pretty sure with the right car he could win it within the next couple of years.

As if the younger man’s ears were burning, George waltzes into the garage followed by Charles. Toto smirks down at him and not for the first time Lewis wonders if he’s always been aware of their relationship and just didn’t say anything.

Lewis eyes Charles with a soft smile, and turns to his teammate.

“You had a great year, George. I’ll be rooting for you next year,”

Charles scoffs in amusement behind them and George grins, “You can root for both of us. Thank you for everything, Lewis. You taught me more than I thought was possible. It was an honour being your teammate,”

The kind words warm his chest. He knows that the younger man has always looked up to him. There’s a picture of them meeting for the first time over a decade ago, when George is just a small boy looking up at his hero.

It often felt like George still was that small boy throughout the two years they were teammates. The kid hung onto his every word, and unlike when Sebastian and Charles were teammates, they managed to get away without any crashes or tension.

“You’re going to do great things, George,” He replies softly and he’s sure of it.

Mercedes might not take the title next year because Ferrari and Redbull are developing their cars unbelievably fast.
But when they do finally make it to the top again, Lewis has no doubt it’ll be George Russell leading the way.

George pulls him into a tight hug until he’s dragged away by Toto, already discussing plans for next year.

Lewis turns back to Charles who is grinning mischievously at him. He arches an eyebrow and wraps an arm around the younger man’s neck.

“You’ll be back on that top step before you know it, Charles. I’m really proud of you,”

“It won’t be the same without you next year,”

Lewis is pretty sure that him and Sebastian leaving won’t have too much of an impact on the sport. They might always be remembered for their wins but life moves on and next year the focus will be on their current and rising stars.

“I’ll see you later, Charlie. Go and enjoy yourself at the Ferrari party,” He replies, ignoring Charles’ comment because if he thinks too much about it he worries he’ll regret his decision to leave.

Retirement isn’t a scary word anymore. It’s the right choice - he knows that. The thought of watching races on the TV though when he’s spent the last however many years on the track, is nothing but overwhelming.

Lewis isn’t sure what he is if he’s not a race driver. 38 seems like a strange age to start his life again.
_______________________________________________

The summer break couldn’t have come quick enough for Charles. The 2024 season has been nothing but brutal. The car is the best it has ever been but so are Redbull’s and Mercedes’.

After almost every race the P1 spot in the championship switches to either him, Max, or George. They’re more than half way through the season and there’s less than ten points between the top three contenders.

It’s exciting; he’s competing against his best friends and celebrating their victories just as much as his own. He wants George to get his first championship - just not as much as he wants his second.

Max had joked that every year until they retire they would take it in turns - Charles would be happy with that.

Although next year might be a different story with Pierre already settling in at Mercedes. He knows better than to underestimate his best friend.

The thought makes him smile as he unlocks the door to his house. It was after a lengthy discussion between the three of them that they’d decided they would move into Sebastian’s house in Switzerland permanently.

They’ve all kept their own properties as well, and Charles still spends a good chunk of his time in Monaco, but most of his time is spent here.

“Are you two home?” He yells, entering the house and dropping his suitcases at the door. His question is answered when he walks into the kitchen and finds the older men making what looks like a cake at the counter.

“Charlie,” Lewis greets, walking over and pulling him into a tight hug before pressing a kiss to his lips. “We missed you, sweetheart. Great race today,”

Sebastian grins over at him and holds out his arms, “Come here, Charles. I want to give the championship leader a kiss,”

Charles rolls his eyes but complies instantly, crossing the room and falling into the older man’s sturdy arms, “I’m only leading it by four points,” He murmurs against the German’s lips.

Sebastian pulls back and arches an eyebrow at him, “Where’s the unbelievably arrogant Charles Leclerc gone? You can win it, sweetheart. Just take it race by race,”

Charles pouts and pokes a finger into the bowl of cake mix on the table, grinning when Sebastian slaps his hand away. “The next race is Zandvoort though and I’ve always struggled on turn 7 there,”

Lewis walks over to them and slips an arm around his shoulders, “How about we go over some old races later and we can give you some tips?”

“Please,” He replies with his best puppy dog eyes, and Lewis smirks, “You don’t need to look at me like that. If Seb and I aren’t racing anymore we might as well help you win,”

Charles grins and presses a chaste kiss against the older man’s lips. Max and George might have quick cars but they didn’t have the benefit of two multi world champion boyfriends who will patiently sit by their side and offer them advice on every race.

“How’s the movie coming? When are you going to let me meet Brad?” Charles asks on a grin.

Lewis had been producing a film based on Formula 1 starring Brad Pitt since he retired. Every time they spoke on the phone Lewis gleed about getting to spend time with arguably one of the best looking men in the world. Sebastian and Charles loved to tease the man about his one sided crush on the actor.

Lewis narrows his eyes on him, “I told you that you’re never meeting, Brad. I don’t trust what you’ll say,”

Charles and Sebastian share a grin. The teasing of Lewis might have gone too far, and has only led to their boyfriend outright refusing to let them anywhere near the film set or the cast because he’s paranoid they’ll tell the actor he has a crush.

“Leave Lew alone, Charlie. Let him spend time with his new boyfriend on his own,” Sebastian jokes, ducking to avoid the apple Lewis chucks at his head.

“Mia got your email about the campaign. She’s running it past Mattia but she thinks I’ll be able to take part,” Charles informs the German.

Sebastian had been working with a climate charity to try and improve Formula 1’s impact on the environment. Since leaving the sport the older had man had become an ambassador for several causes, including one him and Lewis do together to encourage young girls into the sport.

“Perfect. It would really help for us to have a current double champion supporting the cause,”

Charles rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, “Seb, don’t say that. You’ll jinx it. I might not win this year,”

Lewis laughs and pokes him in the ribs, “Of course you’re going to win,”

The words are said with such certainty that Charles can’t help the grin on his face. Lewis and Sebastian will always be his biggest fans.

His first championship was for the dead, his next one will be for him.
_______________________________________________

Sebastian and Lewis had managed to hide out in the back of the Ferrari garage, avoiding the cameras and microphones.

The paddock is still buzzing from what had been the most thrilling title fight the sport had seen in a long time.

It came as no surprise to anyone though when Charles won the race and in turn his second world championship a mere half an hour ago.

The Ferrari driver had started from pole with only two points separating him and Max. The crown could have gone to George too though who had only been one point behind Charles.

Sebastian had known Charles would be the winner though. He’d seen the determination in the younger man’s eyes when he left the hotel room earlier. Charles had no doubt he would be getting his second title.

Cheers erupting in the garage draw him out of his contemplating and he spots Charles walking in, looking every bit of the double world champion he is.

Charles has tunnel vision as he pushes through half of the garage, being pulled into tight hugs along the way.

He runs and jumps into the older men’s arms, laughing when they grunt at his weight.

They lower him back to the floor and Charles has to shut his eyes because the look of pure admiration they’re directing at him is enough to make him cry.

“You’re incredible, Charles. We’re so proud of you and we love you so much,”

Lewis’ words reach every bone in his body because he knows they’re true. After years of battling with his self confidence this year he finally felt like the winner he is.

And he knows that Lewis and Sebastian love him endlessly. They come to nearly all of his races. They wear Ferrari shirts even though they always argued they wouldn’t.

They love him and he loves them.

“Are you going to go home to Monaco for a bit, or are you flying back with us tonight?” Sebastian asks, cradling his face in his hands.

Charles smiles at him. There’s only one place he wants to be tonight and that’s wrapped between the two people who have been at his side through everything.

The two people that made him realise home isn’t a place but a feeling.

“My home is wherever I’m with you,”

Chapter Text

Lewis looks up from his slumped position against the wall when Sebastian appears in front of him.

“It’s just one race, Lewis. You can still take the championship,”

He sighs in the same way he has done every time someone has said that to him this afternoon.

It is just one race, he knows that. It doesn’t change the fact that every second place seems more soul crushing now that his eighth championship is on the line.

Fucking Verstappen.

“I could do with a good fuck I think. I need to get rid of all this tension in my body,” He admits. If it was anyone but Sebastian he wouldn’t have said that but he’s known the man so long that he knows it’ll make him laugh.

Sebastian does laugh but then his eyes darken and he squats down on the floor next to him, “Maybe I could help with that. Why don’t you come by my hotel room later? Charles and I would be happy to entertain you,”

Lewis knows he’s gaping but the words that have just come out of Sebastian’s mouth deserve that response.

It’s not like he’s not up for the offer. Ever since he’d known Sebastian he’s wondered what it’d be like to hear him scream his name.

The thing that has him gaping is the mention of Charles.

Charles Leclerc.

Sebastian is sleeping with Charles Leclerc.

Charles Leclerc; the kid that pushed him out of his own team. The kid that isn’t really a kid but is so much younger than Lewis that’s it all he can think of when he sees him.

Charles is good looking, well that’s an understatement, Charles is beautiful. He’s young though - so very young.

“You’re sleeping with Charles?”

Sebastian’s face lights up and Lewis already knows it’s something deeper than that. He’d recognise the look of being in love on anyone.

It’s that look that says you’d happily let someone absolutely destroy you if it means you get to be with them. It’s the look of someone who’s life isn’t their own anymore - someone has stolen their heart and has become a part of them.

“We are together, actually, have been for a few months. I know he’d be more than happy to have you join us for a night though,” Sebastian grins, “If you wanted to of course,” He adds hastily, looking more flustered than he was a few moments ago.

It takes him a few minutes to get over the shock that Sebastian and Charles are together, he like almost everyone else on the paddock assumed they weren’t on good terms.

“The kid is thirteen years younger than me!” Is what he manages to eventually reply, before narrowing his eyes on his friend, “He’s ten years younger than you!”

Sebastian grimaces and rubs a hand down the side of his face, “Don’t remind me. I try not to dwell on the age gap,” He murmurs before grinning mischievously, “He’s not a kid, Lewis. He’s 23 and trust me his youth is a benefit in the bedroom. He can go all night long,”

Lewis releases a long breath. He likes Charles a lot, they’re not as close as him and Sebastian but they’ve only known each other a few years.

And he’d be lying if he said the idea of sleeping with him and Sebastian doesn’t appeal to him. They’re two people he’s always looked at and struggled to stop looking at.

It’ll just be a bit of fun. It’s not like they’re all going to fall in love and spend the rest of their lives together.

“Okay,” He agrees quietly, “I’ll text you later,”

-

Sebastian watches his boyfriend in amusement as he paces around the room, muttering things to himself in French.

He had been texting Lewis to confirm the hotel room number but looked up from his position on the bed when he heard the younger man’s accented mumblings.

“Charlie, sweetheart, we don’t have to do this. I’d never want you to do something you’re not comfortable with,” He calls out.

The younger man halts in his tracks and flicks startled eyes over to his boyfriend. Charles had forgotten he was there. The images of what they’re about to do playing in his mind.

“I’m fine, Seb. I’m not some little virgin,” He says defensively.

Charles has heard all the rumours of the early grid days regarding Sebastian and his tendency to sleep around with other drivers.

They’d also discussed the idea of a threesome before and had played a game in bed one night where they listed the drivers they’d want to include. Lewis had always been at the top of their lists.

Sebastian gives him a pointed look, “I know you’re not a virgin. Come here,” He orders, opening his arms and smiling.

Charles shakes his head and continues pacing around the room trying to distract himself.

“Charles, come here,” Sebastian repeats firmer, with narrowed eyes.

The Monegasque wants to tell him to fuck off so he can continue his spiral of downward thoughts of what he’s about to do, but when he glances at the older man the look on his face is one he knows not to argue with.

He throws himself on the bed and curls himself into his boyfriend’s arms.

Sebastian presses a kiss to his forehead and wraps his arms round him tightly, “Are you sure about this, sweetheart? Tell me what’s worrying you,”

“I want to. I’m just nervous. Have you really done this before?” He asks already knowing the answer.

He had tried to ask Sebastian about his previous relationships on the track but the older man had shut him down with a promise none of it mattered anymore because he had him now. It was sweet enough to distract him at the time.

Sebastian gives him an amused smile, “I have, sweetheart. But you haven’t so it’s understandable you’re nervous,”

“With Lewis?”

The German raises an eyebrow. Charles had asked him before who else he’d slept with on the grid but he refused to tell him. He half expected Charles to deliberately crash into them on the track if he told him.

Yet now he’s looking at his beautiful, fidgety boyfriend and he wants to soothe his worries so he indulges him, “No, never Lewis. I’ve always liked the idea of it though,”

Charles nods his head and chews his lip, going through a mental list of drivers in his head. This seems like the perfect time to actually figure out who Sebastian had slept with.

“Max?”

Sebastian laughs, but the look he receives from the younger man shuts him up. “No, not Max. He’s way too yo-,” He stops himself when he realises what he’s about to say and Charles looks up at him with an arched eyebrow.

“Max is the same age as me, well, actually he’s a few weeks older,”

Sebastian purses his lips as he debates his response - not for the first time he wonders if he’s too old for Charles.

Then he remembers how much they laugh together, how Charles soothes his worries, how Charles looks in the morning.

“I love you, Charles,” Is all he ends up replying because he’s not sure what else he can say, “Anyway, enough about who I have or haven’t slept with. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Charles nods but still isn’t entirely convinced. His eyes widen when there’s a knock at the door.

Sebastian smiles warmly at him - the way he always does that makes Charles feel like everything is okay.

He watches Sebastian wander over to the door and smiles sheepishly when Lewis walks in looking just as awkward as he feels.

“Charles, how are you?” Lewis asks and he hates the way it sounds so official, like this is a job interview.

Sebastian laughs from behind him and wraps an arm around his neck. He narrows his eyes at the German who seems to be perfectly comfortable in this situation.

“There’s no need to be so formal. There’s no pressure. This is just a bit of fun,”

The reminder that this is in fact just a bit of fun calms Lewis’ beating heart. This is just a stress relief. There won’t ever be anything more.

He glances over at Charles and frowns when he sees the look of pure dread on the younger man’s face.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this, Charles?” He asks, and the question causes Sebastian to look over at his boyfriend.

The German sighs and turns to him on a small smile, “Will you give us a minute, Lewis? I just need to talk to Charlie for a second,”

Lewis nods dumbly and perches on the edge of the bed when the two men make their way into the hotel bathroom.

Sebastian grins at him before shutting the door. He turns to his boyfriend who still looks like he’s about to pass out and forces him down to sit on the edge of the bath.

Sebastian crouches down in front of him and cups his face, “Charlie, I think we should rearrange this for another time. Or maybe not at all. I don’t think you’re ready for this yet and that’s okay. Let’s just spend some time together tonight,”

The Monegasque averts his eyes and stares at the door, “You want to do this though,” He mumbles.

Sebastian turns the younger man’s head back, so he’s looking him in the eye.

“I only want you. I love you, Charles. You’re my boyfriend and the love of my life. I thought this might be a bit of fun but I’d rather have you,”

The reassuring words do wonders for Charles. He can feel his brain start working again and he no longer feels like his body isn’t his. This is just a bit of fun. Sebastian loves him. He knows Sebastian loves him. He loves Sebastian.

Lewis is hot. He would like to sleep with him. Sebastian wouldn’t let him feel awkward and he would make sure he’s okay. He trusts the older man more than anyone.

He looks up at his boyfriend with a steely determination. “I want to do this. It’ll be fun,”

Sebastian assesses him silently, trying to work out if he’s only saying it to appease him. The younger man grins at him and it’s not his media smile. It’s the genuine one. The one only Sebastian got to see. “Alright then. You are sure, yes? We can stop at anytime. You do not have to do anything that you don’t want to. If things are getting too much for you, just tell me and I’ll ask him to leave. Okay?”

The younger man stands up and nods, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips, “Just try and keep up with us, yes?”

The German rolls his eyes fondly and pokes a finger in his ribs. “Shut up. Come on, sweetheart, let’s get this show on the road,” He says with a wink, opening the bathroom door.

Charles follows him out and Lewis is still sat on the edge of the bed, looking much more relaxed now.

“Everything okay? You good, kid?” Lewis asks, looking between them both.

Sebastian glances at him with a smile, and he nods. “I’m okay. Let’s get this show on the road,” He quips, and Sebastian laughs, pressing a kiss to his forehead before pulling off his own t-shirt.

Charles looks at him in surprise, masking it quickly when Lewis starts to undress.

The panic starts to set in again.

Lewis and Sebastian seem to be in their element. Sebastian moves over to the bed, kicking off his shorts as he does.

The older man leans back against the headboard, sending a hesitant glance over at him. “You alright, Charlie?”

Charles nods quickly, feeling very out of place. Even more so when remembers he’s the only one still wearing his jeans and t-shirt.

“Maybe I could just watch to start off with?” He suggests meekly, the confidence he felt in the bathroom having wavered.

He’s thankful when his boyfriend nods on a smile, “Of course, sweetheart. Just join in when you’re ready,” He reassures him.

Within in a few seconds Lewis has practically jumped on Sebastian.

Charles watches in awe as the two men kiss eagerly, grinding against each other. Lewis reaches into Sebastian’s boxers, receiving a groan from the older man.

When he realises his jeans are suddenly feeling a lot tighter in the crotch, he hesitantly pulls off his clothes.

Sebastian pulls back slightly from Lewis and grins at him, “Are you coming over?” He asks, holding out his arm.

Charles falters but crosses the room to the bed, sitting on the edge. Lewis turns to him with a kind smile and any worries he has are eradicated.

Lewis is nice. He’s always been nice. This will be okay.

“We’ll look after you, Charles. Just tell me if you want me to stop okay,”

He nods and lets out a squeak of surprise when Lewis pushes him down on the bed, straddling his hips.

Charles slams his eyes shut when Lewis starts tracing teasing patterns down his abdomen, and he can feel himself squirming.

The touches stop and he opens his eyes to find Lewis looking at him in concern, “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

Sebastian who had been watching them eagerly snorts in amusement, “He’s very ticklish. You’ll have to go easy on him or he’ll kick you,”

Charles lifts his head and glares over at his boyfriend, “I am not! Fuck off, Seb!” He hisses.

The German arches an eyebrow at him and shifts in the bed, “Oh really? Shall we test it?” He drawls, shuffling across to them.

“No! No, it doesn’t matter,” Charles replies quickly, lying back down on the bed when his boyfriend rests back up against the headboard.

“That’s what I thought. Watch your mouth, Charlie,” Sebastian warns on a smirk.

Lewis looks down at him and traces his fingers down his arms, “I’ll do my best not to tickle you even though you’re obviously not ticklish,” He murmurs on a grin, lowering his head to press delicate kisses to his skin.

Charles wants to roll his eyes but when Lewis’ hand delves into his boxers he doesn’t have the strength to argue.

-

Lewis collapses back on the bed after his third consecutive orgasm. Sebastian and Charles are breathing heavily next to him and he can’t help but look over at them.

That might have been the best sex of his life. It felt like more than sex, it felt like their souls were meshing together.

The uncomfortable feeling is overpowering. He’s never felt like this about anyone before but after a few hours with the two men beside him he feels like he never wants to leave.

Sebastian smiles at him, reaching his hand out to stroke down his side, “That was amazing,”

Amazing is an understatement. Sebastian feels like his whole body is on fire. He loves Charles but the mix of Lewis and Charles was incomparable.

“Do you want to go again?” Charles asks and Lewis can’t help the groan that escapes his mouth.

Sebastian was right about Charles being able to go all night. It’s not like he doesn’t want to go again. He never wants to stop - but he’s not 23 anymore and he can already feel sleep clawing at his brain.

The German chuckles quietly from beside him, “Not tonight, Charlie. Maybe Lewis will stay the night and we can carry on in the morning,”

Lewis glances at the man noting the hopeful tint to his voice.

“Yeah, I’ll stay the night. If that’s alright with the both of you?”

Sebastian nods and they look at Charles hesitantly. The youngest man grins and dives down between them on the bed, “I think I want to do this forever,”

Lewis can’t help but agree and he can’t shut out the part of his brain that is praying this isn’t a one time thing.
_______________________________________________

Charles normally enjoys the snowstorms in Switzerland. When the wind was howling and the snow is so high you could barely get out of the door. He looked forward to the three of them barricading themselves inside.

Sebastian would make them hot chocolate with whipped cream and tiny marshmallows. Lewis would fetch the duvet from the bedroom and they’d make a nest on the sofa.

The fireplace would be burning fresh logs, the heat just enough to keep them comfortable. They’d bicker over what film to watch until they all eventually agreed they’d take it in turns. Charles loved that because it was the unspoken assurance that they’d be there for hours. It was his favourite place to be - wrapped up in Lewis and Sebastian’s arms, their finger’s drawing patterns on his skin and curling through his hair.

Right now though, he hated snowstorms.

Charles stares aimlessly out of the window as if he could control the weather with his mind - he’d blink and the snow would stop falling, the sun would come out.

It doesn’t though and he suddenly feels very trapped. He glances up from his spot in the arm chair and looks over at his boyfriends - Sebastian in the other chair, and Lewis sprawled out on the sofa. The distance between them not just physical but emotional.

They’d all argued this morning and as if someone in the sky was punishing them for it, the weather turned dark and it meant they’d be confined to the house until at least tomorrow.

It was a stupid argument too - not one of their normal ones when it’s two versus one, and it’s quickly forgotten about. This time it was all three of them, hissing scathing words to the other.

It had all started with Sebastian trying to tell Lewis about something he’d read in the newspaper - something that meant nothing to Charles but even he agreed would interest Lewis. The oldest man had nodded along to Sebastian as he spoke but didn’t take his eyes off his phone, which only ended up with Sebastian snapping at him for not paying attention.

Then before Charles even registered what happened, they were arguing - not bickering, but arguing. Their voices were raised and their bodies stiff. Charles tried to calm them down but Lewis dragged him in, proclaiming Charles spent more time on his phone than any of them and Sebastian never gave him any grief.

Charles likes to think of himself as quite mature. He’s been through a lot in life and he had to grow up quick, but compared to Lewis and Sebastian he knows he’s not as mature. They have age and wisdom on their side. So, when Lewis turns on him, he doesn’t hesitate to bite back.

It lasted for about twenty minutes and by the end of it, they’d all stalked off into separate places in the house. As usual though they’d somehow all been pulled back together like magnets and now there’s a dreary atmosphere in the living room.

An atmosphere Charles doesn’t want to be a part of anymore.

“I’m going to go and stream,” He announces, and neither men even bother to look at him. Charles casts a quick glance at them but stands up on a defeated sigh and heads to his gaming room.

Falling down onto the chair, he closes eyes and savours the stillness. There was never a plan to stream. All his friends are busy and he doesn’t feel like playing on his own. He just wanted to get out of that room.

The minutes turn into hours and the next thing he knows he’s been sitting there for almost two hours, just watching the snow fall down onto the grass in Sebastian’s garden through the window.

After internally debating with himself on whether he should just go to bed because he really does feel like he could sleep, he decides to go downstairs.

Daring a glance into the living room on the way by he’s not surprised that his boyfriends are in the same positions, still not looking at each other. The TV is on now and Sebastian is watching the weather report.

Charles leans against the doorway and grimaces when he hears the newscaster say it will be snowing until tomorrow. He looks over at Sebastian to find him already staring. The older man’s face softens slightly when Charles arches an eyebrow but he turns away again and focuses his attention back on the TV.

Deciding enough is enough because if his boyfriends are going to act like children then he’ll be the grown up - for once, he walks off to the kitchen.

Once the kettle is boiled and he’s stirred the hot chocolate’s to perfection, he squirts on the whipped cream avoiding Lewis’ because it’s not vegan and giving himself an extra swirl. He frowns then realising he has no idea where the marshmallows are.

The slamming of the cupboards as he searches through them must cause his boyfriend some concern because he almost has a heart attack when the voice comes from behind him.

“What are you doing?”

Charles jumps slightly and rests his hand over his chest, “Fuck, Seb, don’t creep up on people like that,”

Sebastian smirks slightly and wanders over to him, leaning back against the counter and glancing at the three hot chocolates.

“What are you doing?” He repeats, and Charles think it’s quite obvious what he’s doing.

If they hadn’t spent the morning arguing he’d tell the older man that and grin at the glare he would definitely receive.

They had been arguing though and so Charles just smiles, “I’m making hot chocolate. Where are the marshmallows?”

Sebastian assesses him for a few moments before smiling slightly and leaning down to a cupboard Charles had already looked through.

When he pulls out the unopened bag, Charles frowns.

“I already looked in there, I couldn’t find them,”

The German hands him the bag and rolls his eyes fondly, “That’s because when you look for things you do it with your eyes shut,”

Charles rolls his eyes back because although he definitely doesn’t look for things with his eyes shut, even he can admit when he whines about something being lost it only takes Lewis and Sebastian a few minutes before they find it and hand it to him on a smirk.

Under Sebastian’s watch he sprinkles a few marshmallows into each mug, before scooping a handful out of the bag and shoving them in his mouth.

Sebastian watches him fondly and the smile that Charles had been hoping to see finally makes its way onto his face.

“Don’t get all hopped up on sugar. I can’t think of anything worse than being trapped inside with you when you’re hyper,”

There’s no heat behind the words and Charles knows he doesn’t really mean it.

In fact, although Sebastian and Lewis claim he makes them want to pull out their own hair when he’s had enough sugar to make Andrea curse his name - he knows they love it really. The grins on their faces as he babbles on about something, or tries to encourage them into a game of indoor football, is enough to give them away.

So, Charles just grins and shoves another handful in his mouth. Sebastian rolls his eyes on a smile and pulls the bag out of his hand, folding it over the top and placing it back in the cupboard.

“I love you, Seb,” Charles murmurs softly, pushing his body into the older man’s and resting his head on his shoulder when Sebastian’s arms wrap around his waist.

“I love you too, Charles,”

Charles pulls back on a grin and presses a sticky kiss to the German’s lips, relishing in the way Sebastian licks his lips after.

“Are you still upset?”

“No,” Sebastian admits quietly, “I might have been a bit dramatic. I think it’s the weather,”

Charles isn’t sure the weather has anything to do with it but knowing it’d risk another argument if he says that, he smiles and presses another kiss to the older man’s lips.

“You should tell Lewis that,”

“Tell Lewis what?” The British accent comes from behind them and they turn to see the oldest man watching them curiously.

“That the weather is the reason Seb is in a bad mood and that’s why he was being so snappy,” Charles retorts mockingly on a grin, stepping out of the older man’s hold when his fingers move to dig into his sides.

“It is the weather,” Sebastian mutters, then turns to Lewis, “I’m sorry I went in on you about you being on your phone. I just felt like you weren’t listening to me,”

Lewis smiles softly and crosses the room to him, wrapping the German in his arms and pressing a kiss to his temple, “I’m sorry too. I should have paid attention to you properly. It was rude of me,”

Charles watches them in mild astonishment because sometimes it still surprises him how easily the older men seem to get over their arguments. They carry a sense of maturity he can only hope will come to him with age.

Lewis looks over at him when he starts sipping his hot chocolate, “I’m sorry for trying to turn the argument on to you, Charlie. It wasn’t fair of me,”

Charles shrugs his shoulders, “It’s alright,” And it is alright. He likes it a lot better when they’re all getting on.

“You made hot chocolate?” Lewis asks Sebastian, picking up one of the mugs and grimacing when he takes a sip.

“Charles did,”

Lewis nods and places his mug back on the counter, “That explains why it tastes like liquid sugar,”

Sebastian frowns and takes a sip from his own mug, making a disgusted face when he swallows the small sip. “Gott, Charlie, how much powder did you put in here?”

Charles grins and gulps down another mouthful, “The right amount. I think it tastes nice,”

Lewis rolls his eyes, “That’s why you’ll have no teeth left by the time you’re thirty,”

Charles pinches his boyfriend on the arm, squealing when the older man tries to grab him round the waist and haul him into his body.

“I think we should watch a film,” Lewis suggests, taking another sip of his hot chocolate before grimacing again and tipping it down the sink.

“I think that sounds like a good idea. Any ideas, Charlie?” Sebastian asks turning to the youngest man who had managed to discreetly pull out the bag of marshmallows, and is piling them into his mouth.

“Honestly Charles, stop eating the marshmallows. I’ll lock you outside to run off the sugar if you have anymore,”
_______________________________________________

Charles normally loves the FIA gala - it’s a chance to get dressed up and get drunk with his best friends. This year should have been even better because it’s the first time he’s been at one whilst in a relationship with Lewis and Sebastian.

It should have been better but it’s not because he can’t help but glare over at the two men as they laugh along with Jenson and Kimi.

He’d hoped to be able to spend the night with his boyfriends even if they couldn’t outwardly be with each other, their presence is enough for Charles.

But as soon as they had all arrived, separately too, the older men had gravitated towards the other older drivers. Charles isn’t even sure why Jenson and Kimi are here, they’re not even racing anymore. They shouldn’t be here.

He scolds himself internally for thinking that - it’s the jealous part of his brain talking. He likes Jenson and Kimi, but as he watches them make his boyfriends laugh he can’t help when his fists clench at his side.

After diverting to the bar for a shot of vodka and a whiskey coke, he makes his way over to the group of older men.

Sebastian turns to him on a smile and wraps an arm around his shoulders, “Are you having a good night, Charlie?”

“Oh so you haven’t forgotten I exist then?”

The words come out a lot sharper and louder than he’d intended - he’s blaming the alcohol for that. Jenson and Kimi smirk, and he stares at the ground feeling his face heating up.

“Charles,” Lewis grates, looking at him with a frown, “What’s wrong?”

Charles suddenly feels very out of place and absolutely mortified, so he shuffles out of Sebastian’s hold, “Nothing, sorry. I’ll see you later,” He mutters, walking away.

His eyes scan the room for Pierre or Lando but before he can locate them, he’s being dragged away and pushed down a hallway.

It’s no surprise when he readjusts his alcohol soaked brain and his eyes focus on his boyfriends looking at him with arched eyebrows.

“What’s wrong, Charlie? And don’t give us some bullshit about it being nothing. We can tell it’s something,”

Charles looks at Lewis with a pout. This really isn’t something he wants to get into. He was being stupid. He knows that they love him.

“It’s nothing,” He repeats, trying to push past them only to be pushed back against the wall by Sebastian.

“Try again and this time don’t lie,”

He closes his eyes on a groan and rests his head back against the wall, “You two have spent the entire night with Jenson and Kimi,”

Lewis snorts in amusement and Charles opens his eyes to glare at him.

“They’re our friends, Charles. You’ve been with your friends the entire night too,”

Lewis is right - he knows that. Still, he hadn’t spent the entire night laughing at Pierre and George as if they were the funniest people he’s ever met.

“You were laughing and you were standing really close together!” He accuses, folding his arms across his chest, and realising how ridiculous it sounds as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

Any hope he had of coming out of this talk without feeling like an idiot is blown up in smoke when Lewis and Sebastian burst out laughing.

“Are you jealous, Charlie?”

The teasing tone in Sebastian’s tone only ignites the petulant child in him.

“No! Why would I be jealous?”

Lewis rests his hand on the wall beside the younger man’s head and leans into him slightly, “I don’t know but you sound jealous. You know we only have eyes for you,”

Charles does know that and it only adds to how stupid he’s feeling right now. “I was being stupid,”

Sebastian cups his cheek and smiles warmly at him, “You weren’t being stupid but you don’t need to worry about Jenson or Kimi - or anyone for that matter. We love you. I’m sorry if it felt like we weren’t paying you any attention,”

The smile that he’d been struggling to hold back finally covers his face and Sebastian laughs.

“I’ll be honest, it’s a bit of a confidence boost to know you were getting jealous. It makes a change from me having to watch nearly every person in the world fawn all over you,”

“I wasn’t jealous!” Charles argues even though he so obviously was, and it’s apparent from the grins on his boyfriend’s faces that they know that.

Lewis arches an eyebrow at him and ruffles his hair, “Okay, you weren’t jealous,” He drawls on a grin, and Charles wishes they weren’t in public so he could wipe it off his face.

“We didn’t mean to make you feel left out, Charlie,” Lewis adds softly.

He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s okay, I know you want to spend time with them. You see me everyday,”

“That doesn’t mean we don’t want to spend time with you. We are just trying to keep a low profile. Do you want to come and chat with us all for a bit?”

It’s a nice offer and it makes Charles smile, but when he thinks about it he realises he doesn’t really want to hang around with Jenson and Kimi. They’ll all just be talking about their old races and he’ll have a much better time with his own friends.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll go and find Pierre,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly, “Okay, sweetheart. Are you going to stop walking around looking like you’re plotting someone’s murder now?”

Charles smiles sheepishly, he hadn’t realised he was being so obvious.

He nods and pushes away Lewis’ finger’s on a grin when they repeatedly poke him in the stomach.

“There you go, you’re smiling properly again. I’ll keep an eye on you and do it again if I see you without that smile,” He warns on a smirk, tracing the lines of Charles’ lips with his finger.

Charles rolls his eyes. It’s almost impossible not to smile when he’s in the same room as Lewis and Sebastian.

Chapter Text

Lewis’ words are coming out like bullets, each one meant to do harm, and when Charles looks at him, all he can see is pure, unfiltered anger.

This isn’t the same man that holds him tight every night as if he’s something fragile that needs protecting. This isn’t the same man that looks at him with nothing but love and pride after he’s stepped off the podium.

Something must enrage the oldest man further because suddenly he’s roaring at him, “You’re unbelievable! Aren’t you going to say anything?! This is all your fault!”

“Lewis, calm down,” Sebastian interjects, shooting worried eyes at Charles who looks ready to burst into tears, “This isn’t helping anything. Let’s just talk about this,”

Lewis’ face morphs into one of disbelief and he steps towards Charles.

Charles isn’t sure why he reacts the way he does. Lewis has never hurt him - he’s certain he never will.

There’s something in his eyes though - a look he’s never seen on the man before and for a split second Charles genuinely thinks he might hit him.

Instinctively Charles recoils, lifting a hand to protect himself.

Lewis’ face contorts and he steps back, eyes wide.

“Charles,” He breathes, the anger that had been in his voice before non existent and replaced with nothing but despair.

Charles turns away, embarrassed that his body had responded so dramatically.

Sebastian rests a hand on the his arm and without even realising what he’s doing or why he’s doing it, Charles flinches under the touch - enough that his boyfriend pulls his hand away.

Tears are forming in his eyes and Charles isn’t sure what’s happening. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting like this.

All he knows is that for the time in their relationship he doesn’t feel safe. He’s worried they’ll hurt him.

“Charles, it’s okay. You’re okay. Can you turn around please?” Sebastian’s gentle words make it through the fog in his brain. It’s the same gentle tone he uses when Charles wakes up from a nightmare.

It’s the gentle tone that pulls him out of his spiral of thoughts and reminds him that Sebastian and Lewis would never hurt him.

Hesitantly he turns around and the looks of pure devastation on the older men’s faces are enough to make him feel guilty.

Guilty that he’d ever for one second entertain the idea that they would lay a hand on him.

“Charlie,” Lewis whispers, reaching his hand out to wipe the tears away from Charles’ cheeks but stopping, searching the younger man’s eyes to determine whether it’ll make things worse.

Charles closes his eyes and inhales a deep breath, “I’m sorry,” He murmurs, opening his eyes and clasping Lewis’ hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek.

Lewis shakes his head and drags his thumb across his boyfriend’s cheek, sliding across the tears that are still dripping down.

“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. You don’t need to be sorry. I - I,” Lewis agonises, stumbling over his words, “I would never hit you, Charles. I need you to know that no matter how angry I am, I will never hit you,”

“I know,” Charles replies, his voice barely above a whisper as he turns his face away letting Lewis’ hand drop to the side.

Sebastian forces a smile and meekly suggests, “Why don’t we go and sit down? I’ll make us some lemonade,”

“I want to be alone for a bit,” Charles quavers, avoiding their eyes and shuffling to the stairs.

Sebastian’s hand gently grips him by the arm as he walks by and he looks back at him with panicked eyes - panicked enough that the older man let’s go.

The German looks at him, the obvious pain flashing through his eyes, “We love you, Charlie. We’ll never hurt you. We’ll only ever protect you,”

“I know,” Charles rasps, carrying on up the stairs and diverting into his gaming room.

Without thinking he curls up in the corner of the room on the floor and lets the tears rack through his body.

Charles is pretty sure he’ll never love anyone as much as he loves Lewis and Sebastian, or crave someone’s touch the way his body aches for theirs. They hold him as if he is the last living thing in the world and trace his skin like there’s no imperfections. He’s not sure what souls are made of but he knows theirs are all the same.

He knows all of that and yet there was still a part of him that thought Lewis could hurt him. The relationships he’d had before had only been with girls, and they were so different to what he has with Lewis and Sebastian.

He’s never felt love for anyone in the way he does his boyfriends, but with that love came the side effects; the arguing, the hurt.

Charles had never really argued with his girlfriends before, he’d never cared enough to. He does care enough to argue with Lewis and Sebastian though and sometimes those arguments will end up aggressive. Their emotions will consume them and they’ll push and hurt each other.

He knows he’d never push a girl. He was raised better than that, but why does he think it’s okay to push Lewis and Sebastian? Why does he think it’s okay to get physical with them? Why do they think it’s okay to get physical with him?

It’s like when they argue they sometimes forget they are in love and they can only see each other as rivals.

It’s a lot easier to hurt your rival than someone you love.

And Charles does love Lewis and Sebastian.

He wishes he could tell them the thoughts he has about them, but he can never articulate how he feels. Not in the same way Lewis and Sebastian can.

He wishes he could explain the feeling he gets when he wakes up to their faces or the way his heart jumps when they say his name. He wishes they knew that all the love songs made sense to him now.

More than anything he wishes he could explain that they have healed him in a way he didn’t know was possible.

And he wishes that he knew how to thank them for that.

Sebastian turns back to Lewis with a subdued expression unable to form any words because his heart is breaking.

“He was scared of me,” Lewis frets, his hands hands diving into his hair, “He was fucking scared of me,”

Sebastian wants to lie. He wants to tell Lewis that Charles hadn’t been scared but it would be pointless. They’d both seen the haunted look in their boyfriend’s eyes.

“I know,”

“I’d never hurt him, Seb. I’d never ever fucking hurt him,” Lewis cries, and Sebastian pulls him into his chest, rubbing comforting circles on his back.

“Of course you wouldn’t. I know that, Lewis,”

Lewis pulls back on a whimper, “Why doesn’t he know that? How could he ever think I’d do anything like that?”

Sebastian doesn’t know the answer to that. They’d had arguments before - arguments where they had gotten so angry that they’d push each other into walls and screamed in faces.

Charles had never reacted like that though. He’s not sure what changed today but he does know that he never wants to see that look on the younger man’s face again.

“We’ll talk to him. Let’s give him some space for a bit and then we’ll talk to him. He loves you, Lew, and he knows you love him,”

Lewis nods, letting his head fall back down to his boyfriend’s shoulder, using him as a crutch to keep him standing before the shame engulfing his body brings him to his knees.

Lewis had always known that Charles was someone who didn’t really know how to love properly. He could love his family and his friends like it was second nature.

Loving him and Sebastian though Charles struggled with. He remembers having to ask for affection and almost having to force the right words out of Charles’ mouth.

He used to lay awake at night wondering if he wasn’t enough and Charles would be sleeping peacefully next to him, not a care in the world.

It was only later in their relationship that he realised Charles had always loved them in his own way. The words just got tangled and lost. When he said the three words Lewis believed him. His emotions were quiet but they were strong.

Charles’ love in small doses was worth more than an entire ocean of someone else’s romance. Charles loved them in the only way he know how and Lewis has always felt privileged to know how that feels.

They stand in each other’s arms the thoughts running through his head, for a few minutes, not saying a word.

Eventually Sebastian murmurs something about making them some lemonade and Lewis follows after the man to the kitchen, thoughts of Charles fearing him plaguing his mind.

In the same way trees breathe so we can exist, and we exist so they can breathe - Charles gives him life.

The idea that he’d ever cause him any harm is unimaginable. The thought of ever laying a hand on the sweet, beautiful boy is enough to make him feel sick.

He watches Sebastian make the lemonade in a trance, not even able to muster a smile when the man half heartedly jokes about putting in less sugar so they don’t have to deal with a hyperactive Charles.

Lewis would much rather deal with a hyperactive Charles; who can’t shut up for one second and laughs at everything, than a Charles who looks at him in fear.

Sebastian pours the lemonade from the jug into three glasses and hands one to him, picking up the other two, “Let’s go and talk to him,”

He lets Sebastian lead the way and when they walk into the gaming room, he keeps behind the younger man and tries not to break down at the sight of Charles sitting cross legged on the floor in the corner.

“Have something to drink, Charlie,” Sebastian urges, moving over to the slumped figure and crouching down in front of him.

Charles takes the glass on a small smile and brings it to his lips, grimacing as he swallows.

“It’s sour,” He murmurs, smirking at the older man, and placing the glass down next to him.

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly, “It’s not sour. It’s just not full of sugar like when you make it,” He accuses half heartedly, before schooling his expression, “Do you want to be alone or can we sit with you?”

Charles looks between them and pats the floor either side of him, “You can sit with me,”

Sebastian plops down next to him and instinctively stretches his arm to pull the younger man into his side, then thinks better of it.

Charles cuddles into his side anyway, burrowing his body under the older man’s arm, and smiling when his boyfriend tugs him closer, pressing a kiss to his hair.

Lewis hasn’t moved from where he’s standing, and Charles glances up at him with a furrowed brow, “Can you sit with me, Lewis?”

“Are you sure you want me to?”

Charles pulls out of Sebastian’s hold and beams at him, “I want you to,” He confirms, patting the empty space on his right for good measure.

The Brit nods slightly and lowers himself to the floor, resting his hand on the younger man’s knee and squeezing gently.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He muses, dragging his fingertips across the pale skin of Charles’ knee, smiling slightly when he squirms and settling on letting his hand lie on the appendage.

“I do,”

Lewis looks at him with a small shake of the head, “You don’t. I’ll love you forever, Charles,” He promises, “You make me forget everything else. I waited 37 years to find a love like I have for you and Seb. I fall in love with you all over again everyday,”

The words still aren’t enough to express everything he feels for Charles.

Charles will never be able to understand that to Lewis he’s like trying imagine a new colour but not being able to because he’s too beautiful to make sense of.

He’ll never understand that when they’re together he wishes he could stop time so they could be stuck in that moment forever. Seconds won’t exist and they’ll live for the touches, kisses and breaths.

Charles could never know that he’d hand him every bit of him; his bones, his lungs, his heart, just to see him smile one more time.

“I love you too, Lewis,”

Lewis shifts around and cups the younger man’s chin, matching their eye-lines, “I feel like I’m living in a world before love existed because what I feel for you is so much more than that,” He whispers, dragging in a long breath, “And that means, I will never hurt you, Charles. I was made for loving you, not hurting you,”

Charles blinks the tears back from his eyes and leans over to press a chaste kiss to the older man’s lips, “I know that. I really do know that,”

Lewis pulls back and searches Charles eyes, “Do you? You were scared of me, Charles. I never want you to be scared of me,”

“I wasn’t - I wasn’t scared of you,” Charles argues, shaking his head vehemently, clutching onto Lewis’ forearm.

“You were,” Lewis replies on a small smile, “I know you and I know you were scared. It’s okay that you were but I need to know why, because I never want to make you feel like that again,”

Charles doesn’t know how to reply. He doesn’t know how tell his boyfriend - his whole beating heart, that there was a moment when he genuinely thought he’d hurt him.

Lewis doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to feel like he’s not enough.

“I want to just forget about it,” Charles pleads, “I’ll never react like that again, I promise,”

Sebastian sighs and cards a hand through the younger man’s hair, “Charlie, this isn’t something we can just forget about. We aren’t blaming you for any of this. We aren’t angry. We just need to know what you were thinking because as much as Lewis might have scared you, it scared us too,”

“I scared you?” Charles queries, turning to him with furrowed brows.

“Yes, and it wasn’t your fault. I don’t want you to ever think it was your fault. But watching you react like that scared us. It makes us worry that you don’t feel safe, and all we ever want is for you to feel safe with us,”

Charles frowns, “I do feel safe,” He rushes out, lowering his eyes when Sebastian levels him with a glare, “I do but just for one second, only one second, I thought you were going to hit me,” He adds meekly, daring a look at Lewis and finding nothing but love in his eyes.

“Why did you think that, Charles? We’ve argued before and I’ve never hit you. What was it about today?” Lewis asks gently, before adding, “Just be honest with me. You don’t need to worry about hurting my feelings, I need to know,”

“You were so angry,” Charles murmurs, looking down at his crossed legs.

“I was,”

“I’ve never seen you that angry,” Charles admits, looking up at him, “It was like you were someone else. It was like you hated me,”

Lewis frowns slightly, “I’d never hate you, sweetheart, but keep going. You’re doing really well,”

It should sound patronising. If the words came from anyone else other than Lewis and Sebastian it would be patronising and Charles would shut down.

Lewis doesn’t mean it in a patronising way though, Charles knows that. The older man is genuinely proud of him. They know how difficult he finds it to express himself - they know how much he struggles to tell them how he feels.

“I was scared just for a second. Sometimes when we argue we can get quite aggressive and I was scared that this time you’d just lose it and hit me,”

Lewis pulls him into his lap, and rests his chin on his shoulder, “I would never, Charles. If there’s one thing I’m certain of it’s how much I love you and that I’d never hurt you,”

“Do you think it might help you if we all tried to keep a bit calmer when we argued? If we used our words instead of sometimes pushing or grabbing each other?” Sebastian asks, shuffling closer to Lewis and trailing his fingers down the younger man’s arm.

Charles sighs and leans his head back to rest on Lewis’ shoulder, “I’m just as bad as you two though,”

“You are,” Sebastian agrees on a semblance of a smirk, “Maybe we should all try and be better though. It’s not very healthy for us to be that aggressive,”

Lewis nods in agreement, pressing a kiss to Charles’ cheek, “I think that’s a good idea. From now on we’ll be more considerate of each other. Agreed?”

Sebastian and Charles mumble their agreement, and Lewis knows for sure he will never let himself get that angry again. He will never give Charles a reason to fear him.

“I’d prefer it if we never argued again,” Charles drawls on a grin.

Sebastian arches an eyebrow at him, “That would be ideal but not very realistic, Charlie. I think we’ll always find something to argue about, it’d be a bit boring if we agreed on everything anyway,”

“And we are anything but boring,” Lewis comments on a grin.
_______________________________________________

When Charles is on his deathbed, whenever that will be, maybe in 70 years or maybe next weekend. It’s a side effect of the job - always knowing in the back of your mind that you might not make it off the track alive.

When the time does come though, he likes to think he’ll be at peace with it. He likes to think he’ll be surrounded by the people he loves and he’ll be able to close his eyes and think of days like this.

Days where the sun is shining down and reflecting off Lewis’ shirtless body, making him look almost magical; where the only emotion he feels is pure, unbridled joy.

He kicks the football back over to Lewis who like the show off he is, kicks it into the air and does some fancy trick that Charles could only dream of mastering.

Lewis would teach him, he knows that, but he’d never be able to do it as gracefully as his boyfriend. There’s some things he likes to just admire.

“Show off,” He shouts on a laugh, and the grin Lewis directs his way could outshine the sun.

“You try,” Lewis yells, kicking the ball back on a devilish grin. Charles just glares back because the older man knows he’s about as good at football as he is at cooking.

That being, not very good.

Still, not one to turn down a challenge - likely to do with the ridiculously competitive personality all F1 drivers seem to have - he kicks the ball in the air and rather dramatically fails to complete the trick, instead shooting the ball off past Lewis’ head.

Lewis’ laughter echoes across Sebastian’s front garden, and Charles flops to the floor in defeat watching the ball soar through the air.

And straight into Sebastian’s Mercedes-Benz.

The same Mercedes-Benz he’s never let either of them drive, even when Lewis had argued he’s literally a Mercedes race driver. The same Mercedes-Benz that was discontinued years ago and is now almost impossible to find the parts for.

Lewis’ laughter stops and Charles pushes himself to his knees with panicked eyes as the ball smacks against the passenger window.

He holds his breath as he watches it fall away without smashing the glass.

Only for it to bounce back in to the wing mirror.

The football and the mirror drop rather unceremoniously onto the gravelled drive way, and Charles can only think this must be what he gets for thinking about his deathbed.

Because apparently it won’t even be as far as next weekend he ends up on it. It’ll be in approximately twenty minutes when Sebastian returns from the local farm and murders him on the spot.

“Charles!” Lewis screeches, turning back to him with wide eyes, “Why the fuck did you do that?!”

He jumps to his feet and glares at the older man’s accusing tone.

“It was an accident!” He protests, running over to the car and looking down at the wing mirror on the floor, knowing it will probably be the last thing he sees before the life leaves his body.

“He’s going to kill you,” Lewis’ voice sounds from behind him and Charles doesn’t miss the the gleeful undertone in it.

“Why wouldn’t he park it in his garage?” Charles cries, throwing his hands in the air, “All his other cars are in there! This is his favourite one! Why would he leave it out here?”

Lewis appears next to him and wraps an arm around his shoulder on a grin, “He said he was going to wash it this afternoon because it’s a nice day,”

Charles groans and tugs at his hair, “He’s going to murder me. He’s actually going to kill me. I’m never going to get a championship. I’ll die a 24 year old championship-less loser,”

Lewis’ laughter does nothing to soothe his worries and he looks down at the man on a glare, “It’s not fucking funny, Lewis! He’s going to be really mad! It was your fault too!”

The laugh that was about to bubble out of Lewis’ mouth stays there and he narrows his eyes on his boyfriend, “It’s not my fault! You were the one that kicked it at the car!”

“Oh God, what am I going to do?” Charles moans, before pulling away from Lewis and shooting determined eyes at him, “I’m going to go back to Monaco. The next race isn’t until next weekend and he’ll have calmed down by then,”

Lewis thinks that might be the most ridiculous idea he’s ever heard and he’s not sure Charles actually means it until the younger man starts to walk back to the house, muttering about packing his suitcase.

He chases after his boyfriend and stops him with a hand on his shoulder, turning him around on a grin, “You’re not going back to Monaco. We’ll move the car into the garage and tell Seb we cleaned it. He won’t realise it’s damaged until he next uses it and you can play innocent,”

Charles assesses the older man on pursed lips, trying to decipher if he’s being serious.

“You’d do that?” He eventually asks.

Lewis rolls his eyes and laughs, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Yes, even if it is just so you don’t die a 24 year old championship-less loser as you so eloquently put it,”

Charles rolls his eyes on a grin, “You didn’t have to say the loser part,” He retorts, kissing the older man, “Thank you,”

“If he does find out it was you though you’re on your own. I’m not getting between Seb and his favourite car,”

Charles gulps and Lewis snorts in amusement, “It’ll be fine, Charlie. He won’t actually kill you,” He quips, then runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t think he will anyway,”

“Lewis!”

“Fine, he definitely won’t kill you. He’ll just make you suffer. Go and get the car keys so we can move it before he gets back,”

Charles runs faster than he’s ever ran before - fast enough that he’s pretty sure he’s broken every world record - and grabs the car keys from the hooks on the wall.

They bicker about who gets to drive it into the garage, both of them desperate to actually get to try the car Sebastian is so fond of.

After Lewis - very unfairly if you ask Charles - digs his fingers into Charles’ ribs until he manages to snatch the keys out of his hand, he drives the car into the garage. Charles follows behind him holding the wing mirror, praying that luck will be on his side for once.

Lewis parks the car next to the others and steps out, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend who is chewing his lip holding the wing mirror.

“Where should I put this?” Charles asks holding up the offending item, “We need to make it look like it just fell off,”

“There’s no we in this, Charlie,” He reminds his boyfriend on a grin, walking over to him and wrapping an arm around his neck, “And there’s also no way Seb will believe it just fell off,”

Charles scowls at him, “Well what am I going to do with it then, Lewis?!”

He has to hold back his laugh because Charles really does seem to be freaking out, and as funny as it is, he does want to soothe him.

“Just put it down on the floor next to the car. We’ll act like we have no idea how it got broken,”

“Okay, good idea,” Charles mumbles, crouching down on the floor and very precisely placing it directly under where it should have been on the car.

If Lewis wasn’t finding the entire situation hilarious, he’d tease Charles about the effort he’s putting in to cover a lie he’s pretty sure Sebastian would just roll his eyes at and half heartedly grumble at Charles for.

The younger man stands up with a proud beam, “Done. He’ll never know it was me,”

Lewis isn’t so sure about that. If history is anything to go by it’ll only take Sebastian questioning Charles on it for a few minutes before the younger man admits to everything with a kicked puppy expression.

Despite that he smiles and pulls his boyfriend in for a hug, “You better not ever do this to one of my cars,” He warns on a smirk.

Charles just rolls his eyes and murmurs something about it depending how nice he is when they are next at his house in LA. Lewis doesn’t hear the rest because he’s already chasing after the younger man relishing in his squealing laughter.

By the time Sebastian has arrived back, they’re sunbathing on the grass - agreeing that it’s not worth breaking any more of Sebastian’s prized possessions to play a bit of football.

“You two are a sight for sore eyes,” Sebastian drawls on a wolffish grin, standing over them and admiring their shirtless bodies.

Lewis pulls down his sunglasses slightly to wink at him, “And we are all yours. Did you get your strawberries?”

“Yes, and they had fresh raspberries too,” Sebastian replies eagerly, holding out the large tubs of fruit.

He scans his eyes around the front garden and narrows his eyes on his boyfriends, “Did you two move my Merc?”

Lewis glances at Charles and smirks when he sees his eyes widen behind his sunglasses, “We washed it for you when you were gone. It’s back in the garage now,” He answers, knowing Charles wouldn’t be able to without stuttering his way through the lie.

Sebastian grins, “I appreciate it. Let me make you some fruit salad to say thank you,”

“I’d never turn that down,” Lewis says, standing up and looking down at his boyfriend, “Come on, Charlie. It’s getting too hot out here anyway,”

Charles is aware that it’s getting too hot out here. He can feel his skin starting to burn under the sun and a bowl of fruit salad sounds very appealing.

But he knows if he’s in close proximity with Sebastian he’ll end up telling him about the car so he just shakes his head on a smile.

“I’m going to stay out here and enjoy the sun,”

The German pushes the tubs of fruit into Lewis’ arms and pulls the younger man up by the arm, ignoring his muttered protests. “I know it’s hot, Charles, but you still need to eat,” He lectures, dragging the younger man inside.

Charles sits at the kitchen counter watching Sebastian cut up the fruit and listens to him and Lewis debating the best fruit to have in the summer.

Sebastian is arguing it’s watermelon and that is of course the right answer but Charles knows himself too well to get involved - it’d only end him with begging the older man for forgiveness for damaging his Mercedes.

It’s impossible to miss the grins Lewis is shooting him too and because he knows the oldest man just as well as he knows himself, he is certain that Lewis is enjoying this.

“You’re quiet, Charlie,” Sebastian comments, leaning over the counter to press his palm against his forehead, “Were you out in the sun too long? Are you feeling alright?”

Charles pushes his hand away on a roll of the eyes, “I’m fine, Seb. I’m from Monaco, I’m used to the heat,”

“I always thought you were French,” Sebastian teases which only makes him roll his eyes again.

Sebastian narrows his eyes on the younger man, knowing there’s something up with him but knowing just as well that he wouldn’t tell them unless he’s forced into it. He makes a mental note to ask Lewis later.

The bowls of fruit salad are handed out and Charles is glad he came inside because it’s exactly what he needed.

They spend the rest of the afternoon lounging about in the living room, before messing about in the pool.

Well, Lewis argued they were just messing about but Charles is pretty sure his boyfriends must have been trying to murder him with the amount of times they dunked him under the water.

As quickly as the sun came up it went down again, and they snuggled up on the sofa to watch a film. The pleasant afternoon had acted as a good distraction from the chaos of the morning, in fact Charles had completely forgotten about Sebastian’s car.

So when his boyfriend announces he’s going to the garage to get some more microwave popcorn because there isn’t anymore in the kitchen - Charles doesn’t think anything of it. He waves him off and continues arguing with Lewis over what film they are going to watch.

“What happened to my Mercedes?”

The question immediately halts their arguing and they shuffle around on the sofa to look at their boyfriend. Charles nearly withers on the spot at the heated glare being directed his way.

“What do you mean?” Lewis asks, and Charles is in awe at the way the older man can so flawlessly keep up the ruse.

“What do I mean?” Sebastian repeats his voice dripping with sarcasm, “I mean, why does my limited edition Mercedes no longer have a left wing mirror?”

Charles can see Lewis frowning in his peripheral vision, “No idea, man. It was on there when I parked it in the garage. Has it come off?”

The German scoffs and walks toward them with narrowed eyes, “Yes, it’s come off. Do you two know how it happened?”

Sebastian groans internally at the tone of his voice, knowing he sounds exactly like a parent interrogating his two children.

Sometimes he feels like it too.

Just like he knew he would, Charles averts his eyes and Sebastian is once again thankful that his boyfriend is the worst liar to ever grace the earth.

“Charles,” He warns, dragging out the syllables.

“It probably just fell off,” The younger man mumbles, looking down at the floor.

“Right,” Sebastian drawls, “Wing mirrors tend to just fall off don’t they?”

He glances at Lewis who is obviously holding back his smile and arches an eyebrow at him. The older man shrugs his shoulders and side eyes Charles.

Sebastian sighs and cups the younger man’s face, “Charlie, I don’t care that it’s broken. I’ll be able to get it fixed so if you broke it just tell me,”

Charles isn’t entirely convinced by his boyfriend’s gentle tone and so does the only thing he can think of and continues to lie.

Badly.

“Maybe someone broke in when we were in the pool,”

Lewis scoffs from beside him and Sebastian raises his eyebrows in disbelief, “So, someone broke in to my house, didn’t take anything and just pulled off my wing mirror?”

“It could have happened,”

“It didn’t though,”

Sebastian and Charles stare at each other, Charles having to look away under the intense look he’s receiving.

“Lewis did it,” He blurts out, “He kicked the football at it,”

The Brit flicks wide eyes at him, “You little liar,” He growls pulling the younger man back down on the sofa and digging his fingers into his side, “Charles did it. He kicked the football at the mirror and then planned on running off to Monaco so he didn’t have to face you,”

“That’s not true!” Charles shouts breathlessly, trying to push away Lewis’ relentless fingers.

“I knew it was you,” Sebastian drawls on a smirk.

“How?!”

“Because I know you,” The German answers on a grin, “I don’t care about the car, Charles, but I will get payback,”

Charles’ eyes widen as his boyfriend circles around the sofa with mischievous eyes, and he bolts up, running out of the room.

The sounds of his boyfriends’ loud footsteps chasing after him up the stairs are the last thing he hears before he’s tackled onto the bed in Sebastian’s room.
_______________________________________________

The blood curdling scream jolts Sebastian out of his peaceful sleep and he rolls over to find Charles upright in bed, shivering, with tears pouring down his face.

It’s not the first time it’s happened and if he had to make an educated guess he’d bargain it wouldn’t be the last.

For as long as he’s shared a bed with Charles the younger man had suffered with nightmares. They’re not normally this frequent - only occurring every few weeks.

Whenever there’s a crash on the track though they tend to happen more. Sebastian suspects that Alex and Zhou’s crash last weekend has something to do with this one and the three previous nights Charles has woken up shouting.

They’ve tried to ask Charles about them before but he shuts them down immediately, and they’ve never had the heart to push him.

It’s terrifying watching Charles like that. He seems so unlike himself - unable to talk, sweating profusely and crying.

Lewis has awoken too and is sitting up, whispering comforting words to the younger man.

Sebastian shifts up in the bed and wraps an arm around his boyfriend, pressing chaste kisses to his tear soaked cheeks.

“Charlie, calm down. It was just a nightmare. You’re okay. Everyone is okay,” He whispers, but the words have no impact on the hyperventilating body next to him.

“Breathe, sweetheart. Slow and steady breaths just like we’ve practiced,” Lewis murmurs, rubbing circles into the younger man’s back.

Charles tries to focus on his boyfriend’s voices but the images of them crashing in a blazing inferno are burned into his skull.

It’s too real; the way their bodies were pulled lifeless from the cars, the red flags, the pain.

“Don’t leave me. Don’t die,” He cries, pulling at his hair in anguish, feeling like he’s looking down at himself and he’s not really there.

Sebastian pulls his hands away, holding them tightly, “Charles, no one is leaving. No one is dying. It was a nightmare. You’re okay. Just breathe. Everything is okay,”

Everything is okay

The words somehow manage to make it through the images in his head and Charles can feel his own breaths again. He can control the way his lungs take in the air.

“There you go, sweetheart. Everything is okay,” Lewis assures him, bringing the hand that was rubbing circles into his boyfriend’s back and wiping away some of the tears from his cheeks.

Charles closes his eyes and breathes a sigh of relief when it’s only darkness - not Lewis’ and Sebastian’s bodies on stretchers.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, opening his eyes and leaning over Sebastian to grab his phone, “Shit, I’m really sorry. It’s nearly 3am,”

Sebastian takes the phone out of his hand and places it back on charge, turning back to the younger man, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Charles. Are you alright now?”

“I’m fine,” Charles lies, he’s not fine. There’s nothing about the horrors he’d dreamt that are fine. There’s nothing fine about the way he won’t be able to fall back asleep tonight and instead he’ll spend the next few hours watching over his sleeping boyfriends to make sure they’re still breathing.

He’s not fine but he’s used to it. He’s used to the darkest parts of his mind clawing their way to the front when he’s asleep. He’s used to the restless nights.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lewis asks, already knowing the answer, so quickly adding, “I really think it’ll help you to talk about it, Charlie,”

The first time he’d been woken up by one of Charles’ nightmares he thought they were under attack.

It was the only explanation that made sense in his sleep clogged brain to justify the high pitched shrieking escaping the younger man’s mouth.

Sebastian was already awake though and gently rocking their boyfriend. He had watched on in horror at the state of the younger man, feeling completely out of his depth.

He’s known people to have nightmares before but he’d never seen anything like the pain Charles goes through. It’s as much physical as it is mental.

When Charles had eventually drifted back into a restless sleep, Sebastian had told him the nightmares happen a lot.

Lewis spent days researching nightmares and the best ways to soothe someone suffering from one. After over a year together he’s finally managed to develop a routine to coax Charles back to sleep.

It was during his scouring of the internet that he’d stumbled across an article detailing how frequent nightmares can be a sign of PTSD. He’d broached the subject with Sebastian and the man had informed him he’d already discussed that possibility with Charles but it never went anywhere. Charles shut him out just like he did every time.

Lewis couldn’t ever let it go though and when he realised Charles’ nightmares got worse when there were incidents on the track - he thought they might be a trigger.

He’s not a doctor but it wouldn’t surprise him at all if Charles suffers from PTSD. He’s only 24 and he’s been through enough trauma in his life to last a lifetime. He’d lost his Godfather, his friend, and his Father.

It’s pain that Lewis can’t imagine having to carry around everyday, but it’s pain he would take off Charles in a heartbeat if he could.

“I’m fucking pathetic,” Charles grumbles, bringing his knees to his chest and dropping his head.

Lewis recoils at the words and grasps a handful of Charles’ hair, gently tugging it so the younger man was sitting back up, “You’re extraordinary, Charles. The way you carry yourself after everything you’ve been through - you are the epitome of strength and the furthest thing from pathetic,”

“Don’t Lewis,” Charles groans, “Don’t give me all that bullshit. I’ve been hearing that for years and it doesn’t work,”

“It’s not bullshit, Charles,” Lewis snaps, “Every word is true. You’re the strongest person I know,”

Charles stares straight ahead, looking at the wall not saying anything and barely breathing before whispering, “You both died. I watched you two crash in front of me and you died. I couldn’t do anything,”

His voice cracks halfway through and despite feeling like he has nothing left in him to cry, the tears start to fall again.

“It was just a nightmare, Charles. Seb and I are fine. We are not going anywhere. I promise,”

Charles jolts and flicks heated eyes at his boyfriend, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lewis,”

Lewis startles at the anger in the younger man’s tone but rests a comforting hand on his cheek, “I will always do everything in my power to come back to you, Charles. There’s not much that could keep me from you,”

“Charlie,” Sebastian starts hesitantly, “Do you think your nightmares are worse at the moment because of Alex and Zhou’s crash?”

Charles stiffens, but relaxes slightly when Sebastian’s hand strokes down his back, “I don’t know, maybe,” He mumbles, dragging his hand down the side of his face not covered by Lewis’ hand, before stilling and shooting accusing eyes at the German, “Don’t, Seb. I know what you’re hinting at. Don’t go there,”

Sebastian sighs, continuing to run his fingers along his boyfriend’s spine, “Charles, you need to talk to someone. You can’t keep going on like this,”

“I just talked to you! I told you what happened!” Charles cries, pushing his boyfriend’s hands away.

“And we are really glad that you did but we are not professionals, Charles. You need to talk to someone that can help you. All we can do is listen,”

Sebastian nods in agreement, “Lewis is right, Charles. We can’t help you. You’re showing so many signs of PT-“

“Seb!” Charles interjects before he can finish, “I’m serious, don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I’m sorry I woke you up, I really am. I told you I’ll sleep in one of the spare rooms,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes because that idea is just as ridiculous as it is every time Charles suggests it.

“We want you to sleep with us, Charles. We just don’t want you to have to suffer like this,”

“I thought I’d get better,” Charles admits weakly, “I used to get them really bad when I was about 19 and I always assumed I’d get better but I haven’t. I’m still the same mess I was five years ago,”

“You’re not a mess, Charles. You should get some help though,” Lewis insists quietly, easily holding the glare the younger man shoots his way.

“I don’t need help, I just want to not be the same person I was five years ago,” Charles hisses.

He often finds himself daydreaming about the man he’ll be when he’s left the rush of his insecure twenties. When he’s picked up self assurance on the way and dives into his thirties and forties, his soul becoming more fiery everyday. The overwhelming privilege of being able to grow into the finest version of himself.

Sebastian looks at Charles, in the same way he does everyday - when he really looks at him as if he’s able to see into his soul.

He can’t help but feel like he missed Charles long before he ever knew him. His presence has impacted him so deeply that Sebastian’s convinced that if he never met him he would permanently feel like something was missing.

All he’s ever wanted is to love Charles, to help him in a way he won’t help himself.

It’s a losing battle, he realises, and a battle they’ll face another day, not at 3am when he can already feel his body begging for more sleep.

“Oh, Charlie,” He falters, carding his fingers through the sweat soaked hair, “Can I impart some wisdom on you without you being a brat about it and calling me old?”

Charles smiles slightly and Sebastian does too, just glad he gets to see his boyfriend looking less traumatised.

“I guess so,” Charles mumbles, rubbing at his eyes and looking at his boyfriend.

Sebastian cups his chin, pressing a delicate kiss to the corner of his mouth, “The person you want to be in five years is so much more important than the person you were five years ago,”

Charles stares at the older man as the words sink in. He’s never been sure how Sebastian always knows how to say exactly the right thing but he’s never been more glad for it.

There’s a lot of comfort in knowing that beauty can be found in everything. Even in the moments like this when they are hurting - things will grow. They will adjust to a new perspective and it will be like being able to see for the first time again.

“Thank you, Seb,” He croaks, snuggling into the man’s side.

“You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. You just need to keep being you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted,”

He won’t ever be able to find the words for Charles. He’s his everything, always, and even that is not enough.

Charles trusts them with things he doesn’t trust himself with. He treats them better than he treats himself. He loves them in the all the ways he can’t love himself.

And Sebastian only hopes that someday he can see himself the way they see him.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep or shall we turn the TV on?” Lewis asks, swallowing a yawn.

“I think I can probably go back to sleep now,” Charles replies, shuffling down in the bed, and smiling when strong arms wrap around him from either side.

And for the first time in a while Charles is able to fall back asleep after a nightmare.

Chapter Text

The words send the same cold shiver down his spine that they do every time. 

Red flag, Red flag 

“Is everyone okay? Who is it?” He questions, still not able to see where the collision took place or who is involved. 

Time slows down and he remembers his engineer telling him Lewis had just pitted. The thundering of his heart slows slightly knowing the older man wouldn’t be involved. 

He tries to look beyond the cars in front of him, searching for the flash of red. Charles had been in the lead so it makes sense that he wouldn’t be able to see him. 

That’s what he tells himself. 

“Slow down and divert to the pit lane now,” His engineer states. The heavy emotion in his voice clear through the radio and immediately causing alarm bells to start ringing in Sebastian’s head.

“Copy,” He replies, sounding a lot calmer than he’s feeling. 

Sebastian pulls into the pit lane behind Daniel. As he hoists himself out his eyes scan the line of cars searching for the number 16. 

Charles had been in the lead which meant he would probably have to complete a whole lap of the track before he can pull in. 

That’s what he tells himself. 

His engineer is already standing there waiting for him with a solemn expression. 

The fear creeps further up his body as he desperately scans his eyes around the track searching for the red car.

“Who was it?” He demands harshly, the words coming out angrier than he’d intended but his adrenaline is through the roof. 

“Lance crashed into the back of a Ferrari when it was lapping him. We’ve just been informed the race won’t be restarting,” 

The words enter through his ears and weigh him down like a lead balloon. 

He hopes it’s Carlos. 

Then he feels guilty.

He doesn’t wish it on anyone. Crashes are a part of racing. It’s a risk they are all aware of. Getting injured on the track though, that is something that should have stopped years ago. 

Sebastian doesn’t reply. He can’t. He can’t form any words to express the pure dread that is leaking through his body, overpowering his veins and organs. 

He tries to recall the last time that a race had been stopped and not restarted. 

Anthoine in Spa during the F2 race. Jules in 2014. They both ended the same way; two lives cut devastatingly short. 

“Who?” He chokes out. 

“Leclerc,” 

The world stops spinning. 

Tears start to blur his vision and he excuses himself quickly. 

It can’t be Charles. 

Charles who had been ecstatic after his pole position yesterday. 

Charles who he watched fall apart in giggles underneath him this morning as he tickled him relentlessly for being a cheeky bastard. 

Charles who he had to practically drag out of bed this morning because he refused to get up. 

Charles who had already experienced so much loss in life but is the strongest person he knows.

The selfish side of him hopes it’s Lance that’s hurt. The side of him that loves Charles more than anything hopes it’s his teammate that is the reason the race was stopped and that Charles is sitting in medical getting a precautionary check up. 

Lawrence is leaning against a wall talking to someone on the phone. Maybe his wife. Maybe she’s at the hospital with Lance. Maybe Charles is okay. 

Mike approaches him on a grimace, and before the man can even open his mouth Sebastian practically shouts in his face. 

“What happened? Why was the race stopped?” 

The team principal opens his mouth to reply but his gaze shifts behind him. 

“Lance, they checked you out? You’re all good?” 

Sebastian feels his heart stop. He flips around and is met with the pale face of his teammate. He hasn’t got a scratch on him. 

The race was stopped for Charles. 

It feels like his legs are going to give way. Everything comes crashing down and he’s frozen in place. 

Racing had always been in his blood and the danger never really felt real. That was until he fell in love with Lewis and Charles. 

When it was someone else’s life on the line - Charles’ and Lewis’ - the danger is thrown in his face every weekend. 

Every red flag. Every yellow flag. He panicked until he saw the numbers 16 and 44 safely on the track. 

The panic doesn’t stop this time. 

“What happened?” He yells, crowding his teammate. The anger and fear mixing together to make his hands and voice shake. 

Lance’s eyes widen and he steps back, “I lost control of the car when Leclerc was overtaking. We spun into the barrier,” 

Leclerc

He hates the way Lance uses his last name. It’s so impersonal. As if he hasn’t just crashed into Sebastian’s best friend. His whole life. 

“That’s a fucking rookie move! You shouldn’t be racing if you can’t control the car! You’re a danger!” He screams and he knows it’s unfair. He’s lost control of the car before, it’s easily done. 

“Sebastian,” Lawrence warns, walking over and wrapping a protective arm around his son who is looking like he’s about to faint, “You need to calm down,” 

Mike rests a hand on his shoulder and looks at him with concerned eyes. He shrugs the hand off. There’s only one person he wants to feel on him right now and he still has no idea what happened to him. 

“Seb, I know Charles was your teammate and you are still friendly but Lance made a mistake. It’s led to something unfortunate but there’s nothing that can be done now,” 

He wants to shake the man and shout in his face. They aren’t just friendly. Charles isn’t just his ex-teammate. 

It’s times like this that he wishes they could tell people about their relationship. If that was the case then him and Lewis would already be with Charles wherever he is. They’d be holding his hand and whispering soothing words to him. 

He turns away in frustration. He needs to find Charles. He needs to know he’s safe. 

The garage is tense and he can feel everyone’s eyes on him. They’ve never seen him lose it like this. It must look strange to be acting like this over a driver he hasn’t been teammates with for over a year. 

“What’s the latest on Charles?” He asks quietly. The adrenaline is leaving his body now.

It’s just pain.

It’s just fear. 

The sound of the TV in the corner of the room catches his attention and he watches the replay of Charles’ car practically being torn into two pieces. 

Then he watches as Charles is pulled out of the car and placed onto a stretcher. 

Unconscious. 

He runs over to the bin and retches, gasping for breaths as he gags and his heart pounds in his chest. 

It feels like the walls are closing in. The garage has never felt so small. 

Not for the first time he’s disgusted at the way the media replay crashes as if it’s a scene from a movie. As if it’s not real life. As if it’s not a 24 year old’s life on the line. 

Mike rubs his back, “Jesus, Seb, are you alright?” 

He’s not. He’s never felt pain like this before. 

“I’m going to the hospital,” He spits out, pushing off the bin and stumbling out of the garage. 

“You need to go to the press pen, Seb,” Lawrence calls out after him and if he wasn’t so shook by the image he’d just seen on the TV, he’d punch him. 

Instead he shoots him a fifthy look and storms out of the garage. He’s barely made it a few steps before strong arms are wrapping around him. 

“It’s Charles,” 

The voice registers in his brain immediately and he pulls back to look Lewis in the eye. He’s never seen him look like this before. They’ve both seen the horrors that can occur on the track but it’s never cut this deep. 

Lewis has been crying, that much is obvious. The normally bright eyes are red rimmed and swollen. He looks older too, as if the last thirty minutes have somehow aged him. 

“We need to go to the hospital,” Is all he manages to choke out. 

Lewis is dragging him by the arm towards the car park within a second, “I’ve got a car here,” He informs him on a shout, and then before they realise what they’re doing - they’re running.

They sprint into the hospital and over to the nurses’ desk. Lewis leans over and the nurse smiles up at him. She recognises him - probably because of the racing suit he hasn’t changed out of. 

Whatever it is that makes her realise why he’s there he’s thankful. Most people in Azerbaijani can’t speak English and he didn’t fancy having to try and get google translate up on his phone when he can barely stand. 

A nurse leads them to a private hospital room and he stops outside the door when he hears laughter. He would recognise that laugh anywhere. 

It’s his favourite sound in the world. 

He pushes the door open and is greeted with a sight that could bring him to his knees. 

Charles sitting up in the hospital bed holding his phone in front of his face on a soft smile. He looks a bit pale and there’s a gash on his forehead but other than that he looks okay. 

He looks like Charles. 

The Monegasque’s eyes flick to theirs and he grins, holding out one of his hands. He says something in rapid French and then hangs up the call, dropping his phone on his lap. 

“Took your time getting here, I was starting to think one of you actually won the race or something,” Charles teases on a grin, gesturing for them to come over.

Lewis isn’t sure what to say. He expected so much worse. He expected to get here and see Charles hooked up to machines. 

The relief hasn’t sunk in yet. It almost feels like he’s hallucinating. 

“They didn’t restart the race,” Is what he finally replies. 

Charles quirks an eyebrow and frowns, “Oh that seems a bit drastic. I can’t remember the last time they did that,” He mumbles picking up his phone and looking at something, “Guess that means I won though,” He adds on a grin. 

Lewis feels the frustration brewing in him now. Charles is so reckless with his life. It doesn’t even register with him that the race was stopped because he could have died. 

If this happened only a few years before he probably would have died. The world would be without Charles Leclerc and what a miserable world that would be. 

He wishes Charles cared about himself as much as he knew the younger man cared for them.

Luckily he cares for Charles more than anything else in this world - and if that means yelling at him after he’s been in a potentially life threatening crash then so be it. 

“You were fucking unconscious, Charles! Don’t talk about it like it was nothing! We saw the clip of you being dragged from the car lifeless! We thought we’d lost you! Don’t you ever dare do that to us again! If you do that again then I’ll murder you myself!” His voice breaks and he’s not sure when he started crying but he can feel the tears soaking his cheeks. 

Sebastian wraps an arm around him and guides him over to the bed, pushing him down on one of the chairs before leaning over the younger man. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart? What did the doctors say?” He asks, tracing his finger around the edges of the large cut on his boyfriend’s forehead and gently placing a kiss next to it. 

Charles glances at Lewis and then back at him, “I promise I’m fine. It’s just a cut and a mild concussion. They’re keeping me in overnight but I’ll be able to race next weekend,” 

“I’m tempted to never let you race again,” Lewis spits, scrubbing at his eyes. 

Charles scoffs in annoyance, “Well that’s not up to you, Lewis. You don’t get to decide what I do,” 

Lewis releases a long breath and eyes the younger man. He wouldn’t ever ask Charles to stop racing, not that he’d have the right to, but sometimes he wishes he’d fallen in love with people that had safer jobs. 

The incomparable fear that engulfed his body when Toto had told him it was Charles that had crashed was enough to make him wish he’d never met the younger man. It’s pain he’s never felt before in his life. 

In fact he’s almost certain he’s aged ten times quicker over the past year whilst being in a relationship with Sebastian and Charles than in the past 37 years. 

Loving them could be torture especially on days like today.
 
“I didn’t mean it, I’m still freaking out,” He sighs, standing up and leaning over the bed to cup the younger man’s cheek, “I’m just so glad you’re okay. I love you so much, Charlie,” 

The three words are never enough to express his love for Charles. It needs to be four. 

You are my universe 

He’s his everything. Just as the constellations in the sky are never ending so is his love for Charles. 

It’s not a perfect love because like the stars sometimes it will combust. They will argue and hurt. But through all their failings and shortcomings he will still love Charles. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you both. Honestly, I’m fine. I’m going to fly to Maranello tomorrow,” 

Sebastian takes a seat next to Lewis on one of the chairs and grasps the younger man’s hand, “Charles, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. You need time to recover,” 

Charles leans back in the bed and sighs, closing his eyes in frustration, “I am fine, Sebastian. It’s just my head. Once they discharge me I’m going to Maranello, there’s only a few races left and I need to be on top form,” 

Lewis stares at him in disbelief. He’s tempted to tie the younger man to the bed - anything to keep him from pushing himself too soon. 

“I’m going to speak with the doctor,” Sebastian announces standing up from the chair before pressing a kiss to Charles’ forehead and arching an eyebrow at his affronted look. 

“Seb! I already told you what she said!” 

“You did but I’m sure it was your watered down version so we wouldn’t worry. I want to hear it from a professional,” 

“There’s such a thing as patient confidentiality, Sebastian! I have rights, you know!” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “Honestly Charles, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure when I tell her that you plan to get on a plane to Maranello tomorrow she’ll be more than happy indulge me,” 

The heated look Charles shoots him only makes him grin as he turns to Lewis, “Make sure he doesn’t try to escape whilst I’m gone,” He jokes, looking between them one last time and leaving in search of Charles’ doctor. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Charlie? Do you need anything for the pain? I can ask one of the nurses to come in,” Lewis fusses, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and bringing it to his mouth to rest a gentle kiss on his knuckles. 

“Lewis,” Charles moans, “Please, I’m fine. Stop asking me,” 

Lewis assesses him trying to work out if he’s lying, but before he can interrogate his boyfriend further the door swings open and Sebastian walks in looking like there’s a storm cloud above his head. 

“What did the doctor say?” Lewis asks, his eyes flicking between Sebastian’s scowl and Charles’ guilty face. 

“You didn’t mention anything about your leg!” Sebastian accuses and his expression is so scornful, it makes Charles flinch. 

Sebastian marches over to the bed and lifts Charles’ hospital blanket off. He stares down at the thick bandages spanning across his thigh. 

If there’s one thing he wishes he could change about Charles it would be his complete disregard for his own well-being. 

“Did you just plan on not telling us about the fact they had to stitch up your leg?” 

“Jesus, Charles,” Lewis hisses, “You said it was just your head and a concussion,” 

Charles rolls his eyes and pulls the blanket back over, “My leg is fine. It’s just a cut. I’ll be fine to race next weekend,” 

Sebastian glowers at him and wonders whether he could get away with stealing enough drugs to knock him out for the next week. 

“I don’t care if you’ll be fine to race next weekend, Charles! I care about you right now! The doctor said that you shouldn’t be putting any weight on it for three days. Did you just forget to mention that too?”

Charles smiles sheepishly, “It’s not important. I’ve always healed quickly,” 

“Charles,” Lewis warns, “You’re not flying to Maranello tomorrow. We’ll stay at the hotel for the next few days until your leg is better,” 

“But -“ Charles starts to protest, letting the words die in his throat under the glowers of his boyfriends and rolling his eyes, “Fine,” 

“You can use your time off to finally learn what the word regardless means,” Sebastian teases, hoping to wipe the look of pure betrayal off the younger man’s face. 

He grins when it works and a smirk starts to pull at Charles’ lips. 

“I know what regardless means, Seb! It’s you that doesn’t, regardless,” 

Sebastian arches an eyebrow at him on a smirk, pushing the dark hair from his forehead and kissing all over his face, ignoring Charles’ half hearted grumbles, “You definitely don’t,” He mutters, pulling back and looking down at his beautiful boyfriend. His beautiful boyfriend that he could have lost today. 

“I love you, Charles,” He croaks. 

More than you could ever know, he thinks. 

They spend the rest of the evening at the hospital with Charles who within an hour was already starting to become restless. 

Lewis went down to the gift-shop and bought a pack of cards so they could play some games. It kept them busy until an endless stream of visitors poured through the door. 

Charles bathed in the attention of his friends, engineers, mechanics, and team principals, brushing off their worries, which only made Lewis and Sebastian interject and inform them of the real prognosis. 

It’s late by the time Charles finally falls asleep and the nurse enters the room for the third time insisting they needed to leave. 

They make her promise that someone rings them if anything changes with Charles and inform her they’ll be back tomorrow morning when he’s discharged. 

“I feel like I can finally breathe again,” Lewis murmurs as they walk out into the car park over to his car. 

“He’s going to be the death of us,” Sebastian jokes on a smirk but Lewis can see the relief in his eyes.

Losing Charles really would be the death of them. 
_______________________________________________

Sebastian glowers at the younger man over the table, “Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc if you buy that fucking -“ 

“I’ll buy it, thank you,” Charles glees, not being able to hold back his laughter at the look of molten anger on his boyfriend’s face. He hands the notes over to Lewis who is laughing just as hard at Sebastian’s antics. 

“Seb, calm down. It’s just a game,” Lewis reminds him on a grin, squeezing the younger man’s knee.

“You knew I wanted to buy that,” 

Charles shrugs his shoulders on a smirk, “You should have bought it first then,” 

Sebastian doesn’t dignify that with a response but snatches the dice from Charles’ hand on a glare. They spin on the table and he gapes down at them. 

“This is a joke! There’s something wrong with them!” 

Charles and Lewis burst out into laughter again, ignoring the scowl coming from the German. 

Sebastian heaves sigh of resignation as he moves the small metallic shoe onto Illinois Avenue. Charles watches on with glee, a malicious grin on his face whilst he counts how much he’s owed. 

The German looks down at his pitiful winnings forlornly. “How much do you want, Leclerc? 100? 200?”

“560 actually,” Charles quips, holding up his hand to Lewis who happily obliges with a high five, both enjoying Sebastian’s suffering immensely. 

“You won’t have that grin on your face for too much longer,” Sebastian warns, rolling his eyes when Charles flips him off. 

He levels the younger man with a stern look, “Charlie, I’m warning you now if you’re cheating then I will not be forgiving,” 

“I promise I’m not cheating, Seb,” Charles retorts on a dimpled grin, discreetly crossing his fingers behind his back. 

Sebastian growls when he lands on another one of Charles’ properties and he hands him the money on a miffed look, “You have never been this good at monopoly before,” 

Lewis snorts and shoves him in the arm gently, “Leave him alone, Seb. He’s doing well,” 

“Suspiciously well,” He drawls, scowling over the table at the Monegasque who smiles innocently back. 

Sebastian watches Charles intently as he once again manages to buy out almost an entire street. His gaze falls to the younger man’s hand when it drops to his shorts pocket. 

The realisation dawns on him and he leans over the board, “You’re a little cheat,” 

Charles quirks an eyebrow at him as he hands the dice over to him, “No I’m not, Seb. I’m just better than you,” 

He squints at his boyfriend calculatingly and then over at Lewis hoping he’ll back him up. 

Lewis narrows his eyes on the Monegasque, “You better not be cheating, Charlie. Empty your pockets,” 

“What? Why? I’m not cheating! You know I don’t cheat anymore,” 

“You’re a well known cheater. Just empty your pockets to show us you’re not and then we can get on with the game,” Lewis badgers, attempting to dip his hand in the younger man’s pocket until Charles pushes him off.

Lewis shakes his head on a scoff, “For fuck sake, Charles. You’ve been cheating haven’t you?” 

Sebastian stands up and rounds the table with a menacing glare which only makes Charles jump up and retreat a few steps, holding out his arms in defence. “Seb, I’m not cheating. Let’s just get back to the game,” 

“I don’t believe you,” 

Charles shoots him an affronted look, “You don’t trust me?!” 

Sebastian chuckles lowly and forces the younger man into the corner of the room, arching an eyebrow at him, “Not when it comes to board games no, I know you too well for that. Either you empty your pockets or I’ll do it,” 

Charles shoots helpless eyes to Lewis who just glares back at him. 

“Okay, so I need to tell you both something…” He starts on a sheepish smile. 

Sebastian growls and moves to shove his hand in his boyfriend’s pocket but the younger man darts to the side and runs out of the room. 

“I knew you were cheating you little bastard!” Sebastian yells, pounding up the stairs after him. 

Lewis smirks to himself when the sound of Charles’ screaming laughter echoes through the house. He packs away the game and adds it to the growing pile on the shelf of ones they can no longer play because Charles cheats at them.
_______________________________________________

Sebastian and Charles suffer each other in silence on the car ride home, preparing their arguments in their heads. 

As soon as they pull up onto the driveway they get out and round the car, doors slamming with hurricane force. 

“Don’t slam my car door,” Sebastian hisses. As if he didn’t do the same.

Charles glowers and watches his boyfriend go to the boot and start pulling out the bags of shopping. The considerate side of him wants to help but the petty side of him wants to watch the older man struggle with them all. 

The petty side wins today and he stalks into the house, not looking back. 

Lewis looks up from the table where he’d been going through data and shoots him a concerned look. 

Sebastian must look even angrier because when he comes in behind them, Lewis stands up and looks between them on a frown. 

“Thanks for your help bringing the shopping in, Charlie,” Sebastian drawls, voice oozing with sarcasm. 

“What’s up with you two?” 

Charles glances over at Sebastian to find his piercing eyes already on him. 

“Charles woke up today and decided he wanted to be a brat,” Sebastian snaps, pushing past them and starting to unpack the shopping. Lewis moves to help him and looks back at the younger man. 

“What’s up, Charlie? You’ve been in a bad mood all morning,” 

The accusation causes him to glare at his boyfriend. He has been in a bad mood but he still doesn’t appreciate it being thrown in his face - especially when his bad mood is due to him not having had a decent night sleep in almost a week. 

His nightmares have been waking him up every night, luckily they’re not the worst ones that end up with him screaming the house down. They’re just the ones that jolt him out of a sleep and keep him up for the rest of the night whilst his boyfriends sleep peacefully next to him, blissfully unaware. 

“I’m not in a bad mood,” 

Sebastian scoffs as he folds the reusable bags away, “You’re unbearable when you’re like this. Can you at least stay out of my way so I don’t have to put up with your attitude,” 

Charles smirks, “Fine. I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone else to entertain me. What’s Tinder like around here?” 

It’s a low blow and he doesn’t even mean it. Still, he knows it’ll infuriate Lewis and Sebastian and right now that’s all he wants. 

They pin him with a glare. The angrier they get, the wider the grin on his face. They’re giving so many nonverbal cues and they’re fine encouragement that he’s going in the right direction. Muscle twitches. Clenched jaw. Fisted hands.

“Don’t fucking start, Charles,” Lewis grates, “What the fuck is wrong with you today? Are you going to tell us or are you just going to sulk about it until we have to give in to your pathetic games?” 

Charles feels himself flinch as if Lewis had hit him. He already spends too much of his time feeling like a burden to Lewis and Sebastian. He’s the one that’s screwed up. He’s the one they always have to comfort. 

They’re getting fed up of him. 

“Fuck you,” He hisses, storming out of the kitchen. 

Sebastian scoffs and watches him go, “Oh yeah, just walk away, Charles. You’re so immature sometimes!” He yells after his boyfriend. 

Charles considers walking back in and letting himself spew the barrage of insults that are on the tip of his tongue but despite Sebastian’s accusation, he’s not immature, so he doesn’t. 

He rests his head back against the wall and takes calming breaths; reminds himself that it’s not a big deal - in an hour they’ll make up and everything will back to normal. 

The sound of his boyfriends’ heated voices cut through his thoughts and he listens to them curse his name. As if he’s the worst thing that has ever existed. 

“I can’t fucking stand him sometimes!” Sebastian growls, pulling the plate out of the dishwasher and loudly shoving it back in the cupboard, “Sometimes I don’t even know why we bother! He drives me insane!” 

Lewis leans back against the counter and arches an eyebrow at him, “He’s a fucking kid that’s why, man. He’s a moody little fuck that acts like he’s the only person that matters,” 

Sebastian sighs and shakes his head in annoyance, “Sometimes I think you were right when you were worried about the age gap. I wish we could have met him in ten years time when he’d have a fully developed brain that didn’t make him a little bastard, so we wouldn’t have to deal with him and his fucking shit,” 

“I can’t believe we went through the nightmare of our twenties and now we’re just going to have to experience it all over again because of him,” Lewis grumbles. 

The words should hurt but they don’t. They just make him feel numb. 

The feeling of nothing. Sometimes he wonders if he’s allergic to sadness or joy. Sometimes he wonders if he’s a sociopath. 

Really though he’s just someone who has experienced so much pain, and so much ache, that it doesn’t phase him anymore. 

The two people he relied on to make him feel something. The two people who he could look at and remember how it feels to love something so deeply and purely, don’t feel the same way back. 

Their words don’t cut him, they just remind him that he’s not worthy of their love. 

He has two options; he can prove their point and march in, hitting them with a tirade of arguments that will only make them regret loving him. Or, he can go home; he can go back to Monaco and wallow in self pity, getting out of their way like they so clearly want. 

It’s not a difficult decision because he doesn’t ever want Lewis and Sebastian to stop loving him. 

There’s no real need to pack because he rarely brings clothes with him anymore - he’s got plenty that he keeps here in Sebastian’s home. Everything he could ever need is already at this house seeing as he practically lives here. 

Some things he will need though so he grabs his backpack and piles in his phone charger, laptop, and favourite pair of sunglasses. 

Charles hadn’t planned on saying goodbye - he’d wanted to send them a quick text in their group chat when he was already on the plane because he couldn’t face them after hearing what they’d said. 

Fate had other plans though and as he’s walking down the stairs, Lewis and Sebastian wander out of the living room, looking up at him on a frown. 

“What are you doing?” Lewis asks, his eyes landing on the bag on his back. 

“I’m going home,” He mutters, sauntering down the rest of the stairs and glaring at them when they block the door. 

“What do you mean you’re going home? You’re so fucking annoying, Charles! We had an argument so you’re going home? You’re acting like a child!” Sebastian yells, moving slightly when Charles tries to push past him. 

“Don’t call me a fucking child!” He snarls, pushing Sebastian in the chest to try and get past him. 

Sebastian grabs his wrists and holds them tightly, “Don’t push me, Charles. We’ve spoken about this, remember? We are using our words now. Tell me why you’re leaving,” 

He yanks his wrists back from the older man’s hold, and scowls at him. 

“Because you two don’t want me here anymore! You don’t want to deal with me so I’m going!” 

Lewis frowns and steps closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder that he quickly pushes off. 

“What are you talking about, Charles? Of course we want you here, and we don’t deal with you, we love you,” 

“I heard you two! I heard you both saying you wish you hadn’t met me!” He bellows and the older men’s faces fall. 

It’s all the confirmation he needs that they meant what they said. 

Sebastian sighs and runs a hand down his face, looking at him on a grimace, “I didn’t say I wished I’d never met you, Charles. I said I’d wished I met you in 10 years….I also didn’t realise you were listening to that,” He adds narrowing his eyes. 

Charles scoffs, “Well I was! Am I not part of this relationship? Do you two just get to have private conversations about me where you talk about how much you hate me?” 

“Charles,” Lewis warns, “You know that’s not the case and you know that we definitely don’t hate you. We were angry. We shouldn’t have said those things but there’s no reason for you to leave,” 

“Well I fucking am,” He spits, trying to push past them again, only for Sebastian to grasp his shoulders and hold him back. 

“No you’re not. You’re not leaving like this. We will talk about this and if you still want to go after then you can,” He cautions, slipping an arm around Charles’ shoulders and glaring at him when he struggles in his hold. 

Sebastian pushes Charles down onto the sofa and the younger man folds his arms across his chest, looking like a disgruntled child. 

He remembers falling in love with Charles. He remembers how beautiful it felt to be falling for someone new; learning Charles’ intricacies, figuring out how his brain works, what made him tick. 

The beginnings are so sparkly, so effortless. He could imagine Charles to be whoever he wanted. In all the gaps of his knowledge about him, he could paint in whatever qualities he liked as placeholders. He could paint Charles into a dream impossible for him to live up to.

Then time passed and he didn’t need to learn anymore. He knew Charles as well as he knew himself. He saw his flaws, his struggles. Their love isn’t new anymore; it’s comfortable. They’re not in the honey moon period now - they show each other the worst sides of themselves because they know the love will still be there. 

“I’m sorry that you heard Lewis and I talking about you. That can’t have been very nice to hear and we shouldn’t have been saying those things,” Sebastian starts, squeezing the younger man’s knee, “We said those things out of anger and we didn’t mean them. You had annoyed us and we were venting, but that’s not an excuse,” 

Charles suddenly feels so tired. The lack of sleep and arguing are draining whatever energy he’d had from the few hours sleep he’d gotten. He knows Sebastian is saying something but the words aren’t registering in his brain. 

He stands up desperate for something to drink to try and keep him awake. 

“Sit down, Charles,” Lewis warns, grabbing his hand and tugging at it. Charles huffs and throws an irritated look at him but takes his seat again. 

Sebastian leans back slightly, and eyes him, “Right, what’s wrong, Charles? You’ve not been acting like yourself all morning,” 

He drops his head into his hands and rubs his palms in his eyes trying to battle the exhaustion. “Nothing,” 

Lewis pulls the younger man’s hands away from his face and notices how tired his boyfriend looks. He runs his eyes over the perfect face taking in the eye bags and almost grey tinge to his skin. 

The guilt washes over him for not having paid enough attention to his boyfriend to realise he can’t have been sleeping. 

“Have you been sleeping, Charles?” 

The Monegasque snorts, “Like you care. You two don’t want to deal with my shit anymore. That’s what you said isn’t it, Seb?” 

Charles’ voice is like venom and Sebastian once again regrets letting his anger spill over the top. Charles is a sensitive person, they know that. The walls he’d built up over the years slowly started to crumble as their relationship progressed and now he’s left with no shield. 

It’s inevitable that there will be times when they hurt each other. In every relationship conflict and pain are unavoidable but he never wanted Charles to feel like this. He never wanted him to feel like they don’t love him. 

Charles has opened himself up to them and he’s made himself vulnerable, but instead of protecting him they’ve hurt him. 

“I didn’t mean that, Charles. I’m genuinely sorry you heard that. I love you; I don’t deal with you. I want to be there for you,”

Charles raises his eyes to meet the older man’s tender gaze, there’s nothing but regret in Sebastian’s eyes. 

“Do you really wish you’d met me in ten years time?” 

It’s one of his biggest insecurities; worrying that Lewis and Sebastian will one day turn around and decide he’s too young for them; that he’s too immature. They have so much more life experience than him. They are already comfortable with who they are. 

Whereas he doesn’t even feel like he knows who he is yet. It’s his boyfriends love that help him figure it out. 

Their love is the glue that mended his shattered remains. It clung onto pieces of him and brought him back to life. Their hearts wrote a story all over his fragile skin and it spoke about endless happy days and unconditional love. 

They saved him from the dangers of his own mind, their hands were the only ones that could ever reach him. 

“Of course I don’t,” Sebastian promises, leaning forward to cup his cheek, “I love you for who you are even if sometimes you drive me insane,” 

Charles smiles slightly at that before frowning, “I wish I could be better for you both. I wish I could be what you deserve,” 

Lewis sighs, and shuffles over on the sofa to pull the younger man into his side, pressing a kiss to his dark hair, “Charles, don’t you understand what we are saying? You don’t need to be anything else other than who you are. We love you. We will always love you,” 

How could he ever convince Charles that he loved him enough to last multiple lifetimes? That even in another mind, body, or life he would always choose him. 

There wouldn’t be one universe or existence where Lewis would desire anyone but Sebastian and Charles. He’s so in love with them that the thought of life without them makes his world pause in orbit. 

He loves Charles in every dimension with all of space and time. 

“I love you,” Charles murmurs, into Lewis’ shoulder before pulling back on accusing eyes, “You used to worry about the age gap between us didn’t you. I heard Seb say it. Do you still worry about it? How do you know you won’t just leave me one day?” 

Lewis side eyes the German who is smiling sheepishly at him, then back at the younger man. “Charlie, I will never leave you,” He promises, cupping his cheek, “I did used to worry about it but you need to see it from my side, Charles. I am almost fourteen years older than you - that’s a big difference. We are at completely different stages in life and you still have a lot of growing up to do. I remember being 24 and trust me, you will feel completely different in five years. I will never not love you though, Charles, and I will never not be by your side,” 

Charles’ watery eyes look like they can stare into his soul when he mumbles, “How do you know you won’t change your mind?” 

“Because I can’t imagine not having you in my life. You and Seb are everything to me,” 

“I couldn’t survive without you Lewis, I wouldn’t want to live anymore,” Charles whispers and the words are so earnest and solemn that they feel like ice through Lewis’ veins. 

Charles would never for the rest of his life go without his love but the reminder of what would happen if he did makes him feel uneasy. 

“You’ll always have me, sweetheart,” It’s a promise. It’s a fact. “Now, are you going to tell us what’s been going on with you? I know you haven’t been sleeping,” 

“I’m fine,” 

It’s the fear of telling people everything inside him because he’s afraid it’s too ugly, too awful, too dark for them to hear. 

He’s afraid it will ruin them to know but every day he stays silent it ruins him a bit more. 

Sebastian sighs and edges Charles over on the sofa so that he can sit down and wrap an arm around him, “Charles, you’re not and that’s okay. Please tell us,” 

Charles will push them away. He’ll throw up walls just like he always does. He doesn’t realise though they will never care how far he pushes them. 

They will stay, they will always stay. Charles is a little lost, and a little damaged, and still learning. He’s not hopeless though. They know who he is and they love who he is and they’ll stay until he loves himself too and long after that.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” Charles admits, keeping his face hidden in the security of Lewis’ shoulder where he doesn’t have to look at them. 

“Fuck sake, Charlie,” Lewis sighs, moving his body away and pushing the younger man back on the sofa so they can look at him, “Why didn’t you wake us up? Has it been every night?” 

“Yes,” Charles whispers, ignoring the first question because although the thought of waking his boyfriends up had gone through his mind every time, he didn’t want to drag them into his mess of a head. 

Sebastian stands up and holds out his hand to the younger man, “Let’s go to bed,” 

Charles looks up at him in confusion, “What? It’s the middle of the day,” 

The German arches an eyebrow at him, “So? You haven’t been sleeping, Charles, and you obviously need it. We’ll go to bed and if you have a nightmare then Lewis and I will be there,” 

Lewis stands up, pulling the younger man with him, “And at least if you get some sleep we won’t have to deal with your bad mood anymore,” He teases, ruffling his boyfriend’s hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Charles murmurs looking between them, “You don’t need to lie with me I’ll be -“ 

Sebastian covers the younger man’s mouth with his hand on a soft smile, “No more apologising and no more arguing today. You’re going to sleep and we are going to be next to you,” He orders gently, narrowing his eyes, “And the next time you have a nightmare and every time after that do you promise you’ll wake us up?” 

“Seb,” Charles whines, “It’s nearly every night at the moment it’s not fair on you,” 

“Charles, are you going to argue with me about this too?” Sebastian asks on raised eyebrows. 

Charles can’t keep the smirk from his face as he shakes his head. 

“Good. So what are you going to do when you have a nightmare and we aren’t already awake?” 

“Wake you up,” He murmurs, looking between the older men, “Thank you for you know everything,” 

Lewis rolls his eyes fondly and gently pushes his boyfriend in the direction of the stairs, “You don’t need to thank us, Charlie. We love you and we want you to be okay,”

Love isn’t enough for what he feels for Charles but at least he’ll have the rest of his life to show him the rest. 

Chapter Text

If there’s one thing you can say about Daniel Ricciardo it’s that he knows how to throw a party. There’s music blasting out over the speakers but not to the point the muffled conversations around the apartment can’t be heard. There’s every type of alcohol you can imagine lined up on his kitchen counter. There’s joy, laughter, and most importantly no talk of racing.

Lewis loves Daniel’s parties even if he’s not quite as wild at them anymore as he was ten years ago. When the new generation of drivers came up to F1 they brought with them a new level of chaos. A new level of chaos that is even more obvious when they are all drunk.

He’s almost envious of the way they can all compete on the track and not let it impact on their friendship. The sight of Charles, Pierre, Lando, Alex and George laughing together and drinking isn’t one you’d have seen with the older drivers.

Charles looks over and catches his eye, a drunken grin taking over his face. It’s not too often that the younger man will get this drunk - he’s always too focussed on the upcoming races. The summer break is the perfect excuse though and as he watches his boyfriend practically stumble over to them it’s obvious he’s taken advantage of not having to race anytime soon.

Charles throws himself onto the sofa between them and readjusts his body so his head is on Sebastian’s lap and his legs are over Lewis’.

Sebastian looks down at him on a fond smile and cards a hand through his unruly hair, “I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight, hm?”

Charles’ eyes are hazy and half lidded when he looks up at him, “Am just taking a break,” He slurs, and the German raises a sceptical eyebrow at him.

“No you’re not taking a break. You’re moving onto water now,”

“Don’t be boring, Seb,”

Sebastian narrows his eyes and pokes the younger man in the side until he’s squirming too much he almost rolls off the edge, “I’m being responsible. I don’t want to end up having to take you to a hospital because you’ve given yourself alcohol poisoning,”

“You two always look after me,” Charles croons, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,”

Sebastian and Lewis share an amused smirk. There’s three sides of a drunk Charles; there’s the side where he can be an aggressive, antagonising little shit which luckily doesn’t come out too often. There’s the side where he runs around rooms, finding everything hilarious, dancing in a way that shouldn’t be legal, and stumbling over his words. Then there’s this side; when he’s had way too much to drink and starts getting emotional.

Sebastian isn’t sure what side he prefers between the fun, drunk Charles, or the sappy, drunk Charles. Both of them remind him why he’d fallen in love with the younger man in the first place, but there’s something about this side of him that he’ll never get over.

When all of Charles’ walls are down and every thought that runs through his head is drunkenly murmured. It’s the only time that Charles willingly expresses every emotion.

“We’ll always look after you, Charlie. We love you,” Sebastian promises, lowering his head to press a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead.

“Why do you love me?”

Lewis snorts on a roll of the eyes, clasping a hand around the younger man’s ankle, “Is this just an excuse for us to inflate your ego? You’re already arrogant enough as it is,”

Charles shuffles around on the sofa, sitting up and forcing himself between them, both of the older men grasping his arm’s and waist when it looks like he’s going to fall off.

“No, I really need to know,” Charles pleads, looking at Lewis with such sincere eyes that it almost makes him want to take him home and never let him out of his sight.

Charles smiles at his boyfriend hoping he’ll realise he needs to hear it. He needs the reassurance that they love him.

He wants to beg them to never leave. He wants them to teach him how to love with arms wide open. His limbs almost seem permanently crossed and he’s stuck here.

He wants them to unclench his fists, kiss his palms, and tell him all his wars have already been fought. He wants them to remind him of the sun and make him look up instead of down.

Please don’t give up on me. Please love me at my worst.

“Okay sweetheart,” Lewis soothes, pulling the younger man into his side and releasing a long breath, “There’s hundreds of reasons that we love you,”

“Too many to count,” Sebastian agrees, cupping the nape of Charles’ neck.

The most human thing we do is crave someone that loves our entire being but then never actually believe they can.

How beautiful is it to look at someone and bathe in their perfectness, but how divine is it to understand their mundanity, their ugly, their spitefulness and see through it with devotion anyway.

Sebastian has seen every side of Charles Leclerc. People think they know Charles but they don’t - not like he does.

He’s seen him cheering in joy, looking like the whole world is under his feet. He’s seen him crying in pain, looking like the world has come crashing down. He’s seen him in a fit of rage, looking like the world is against him.

He’s loved him through it all and there’s no doubt in his mind that he always will.

“Tell me some, please,”

Lewis eyes his boyfriend on a soft smile, “How about we give you the top 5?” He asks, pressing a kiss to Charles’ cheek when he nods.

“You have the kindest heart,” Lewis remarks, resting his hand over the younger man’s chest, “I’ve never known anyone that cares as much about other people than you,”

Charles has fought some of the most treacherous battles that have robbed him of his peace and stolen his spirit, yet he’s remained pure at the core of his heart, in spite of it all.

Lewis is in awe of him everyday.

“You’re funny without even meaning to be funny, which makes it even better,” Sebastian observes, grinning at the furrowed brows appearing on Charles’ face.

“You’re so cute,” Lewis drawls, poking his boyfriend in the side when he scrunches his face up, “No, you are. You’re even cute when you’re being a little shit,”

“You’re the strongest person I know, Charlie. You amaze me every single day,” Sebastian adds.

“Now, one more,” Lewis drones, titling his head and pretending to think, “You’re so unashamedly you, Charles. There’s no one else like you and I feel lucky just to know you, let alone love you and have you love me back,”

It’s an honour, a privilege to be loved by Charles. It’s something very few will experience and Lewis will never take that for granted.

Sebastian frowns at the perplexed look on the younger man’s face, “What’s wrong, Charlie?”

“You didn’t say you love me because I’m good looking,”

Lewis shakes his head in disbelief and grins at him, “Is that what you were looking for? You wanted us to remind you how good looking you are?”

“No,” Charles murmurs, shaking his head, “But everyone has always just loved me for my looks,”

“Honestly, Charles,” Sebastian drawls, cupping the Monegasque’s cheek, “It is definitely a plus that you look like a model but we don’t love you for how you look. We love you for who you are,”

Lewis leans over and traces Charles’ lips with his finger, “Although your smile is my favourite smile in the whole world,” He gushes, grinning when said smile appears on Charles’ face and moving his finger to trace his dimples.

One smile can’t change the world but Charles’ smile has changed his.

“You two really love me that much?”

The older men shoot him unimpressed looks that only make him pout.

“Of course we do, Charlie. We love you more than anything,”

Charles hums, closing his eyes and lying back down on the sofa, resting his head in Sebastian’s lap and burrowing into his thigh.

“Don’t fall asleep, Charles. We do not want to have to drag you to my apartment unconscious,” Lewis warns, jolting his boyfriend’s legs in his lap.

Charles blinks one eye open and smiles, “Am not,”

“Charles,” Sebastian groans watching the younger man’s eyes fall shut again, “No falling asleep,” He repeats, poking at his ribs.

Charles murmurs to himself and pushes Sebastian’s finger away, his eyes still firmly shut.

Lewis watches him on a soft smile and pushes himself off the sofa, “I think that’s our cue to leave. Come on, Charlie,” He orders, tugging the younger man up off the sofa and almost falling over when Charles practically collapses into his arms.

“Can you walk?” Lewis queries, holding his boyfriend at his side by the waist. Sebastian stands up and slips his arm under the younger man’s, balancing him between them.

“You’re a mess,” Sebastian teases, leading the way to Daniel’s door and stopping to say goodbye to people along the way, smirking at Charles when he can barely open his eyes to talk to his friends.

It takes them a good fifteen minutes to manoeuvre Charles to Lewis’ apartment even though it’s only a few floors up from Daniel’s and they take the elevator.

Charles stumbles into the bedroom and falls to the floor, looking up at his boyfriends with hazy eyes and a pout, “Come and cuddle with me,” He murmurs, holding up his arms.

“We’re not going to lie on the floor with you when I’ve got a perfectly comfy bed. Get up,”

Lewis grasps hold of the younger man’s hand and pulls him up, grabbing his hips when he begins to stumble. “You’re a disaster,” He teases warmly, placing a kiss to his forehead.

Charles laughs and walks over to the bed, jumping on it and lying vertically across, his head resting in his bent arms. “I’m sleepy,” He mumbles, letting his eyes slowly blink shut.

Sebastian sighs and slaps his leg playfully, “You’re not sleeping like that. Take your shoes and clothes off,”

Charles looks up at him with half closed, puppy dog eyes, “Can you take them off for me? I’m too tired,”

The German narrows his eyes at him but he can never say no to the younger man so he pulls off his trainers and socks, before trying to jiggle him out of the skinny jeans. “You’re going to need to help a bit. Why do you always wear such tight jeans?” Sebastian mutters.

Charles winks at him, “Fashion, baby,”

Sebastian scoffs but manages to pull them down and off the toned, pale legs. “You can do your shirt,” He instructs gently. Charles looks at him with wide eyes and a shake of the head.

Sebastian rolls his eyes but starts to unbutton the shirt, running his eyes over the toned body. Charles hums to himself and wraps his hand around his boyfriend’s bicep, “You like what you see?”

“I’d like it a lot better if you’d just help get this off and lie down properly,”

Charles grins but sits up on the bed, pushing the man’s hands away and undoing the last few buttons, before pulling the shirt off and discarding it to the side of the room.

“Cuddles?” He asks on a pout, moving to rest his head back against the pillows. Sebastian smirks and strips down to his boxers.

Lewis walks back in holding two bottles of water and a pack of paracetamol, “I’m going to leave these here, Charlie. You’ll be needing them in the morning. Drink this now,” He orders, forcing one of the bottles into his boyfriend’s hand.

Charles obliges and drains the bottle in one go, whilst Lewis pulls off his clothes and clambers into the bed, yanking the Monegasque into his side.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” He whispers, reaching up to the light switch and turning it off.

Charles snuggles between the older men on a content sigh, “Promise you’ll never leave me,”

Lewis and Sebastian share a look at the unexpected demand but wrap themselves closer around their boyfriend.

“We’ll never leave you, Charles. We’ll always be here,” Lewis promises.

Charles smiles to himself. That slightly empty feeling that he’s carried with him through the years of racing, being away from home so many weeks of the year hasn’t entirely gone away. He’s always attributed it to homesickness and to spending time apart from the people he loves.

Now though with Lewis and Sebastian at his side, holding him so tight it’s as if they’re scared he’ll run away. His childhood dream has been realised and there are no more puzzle pieces to fit together. This is it. This is what he’s always wanted.
_______________________________________________

Charles stalks back into the hotel, gazing down at his now empty wrist. He loves his fans, he really does. They are his greatest motivator. They are the cheers when he passes the finish line first. They are the endless sympathetic messages on social media when the car or team let him down.

He would be nothing without them. Still, it grinds him down that people would take advantage of him stopping to give autographs. Not every driver would do that - Max would walk on by. Charles never does though. He always stops because he wants to thank them for their support, he wants them to know how much they mean to him.

So when someone who probably can’t even be considered a fan steals his watch, it makes him second guess how he acts. It makes him feel naive.

Sebastian looks up from the sofa on a soft smile when he lets himself into the suite.

“Hey sweetheart, did you have a good night with your friends?”

“Someone stole my watch,” Is the only thing he replies and he can still feel the annoyance surging through his body.

Lewis pushes himself up from Sebastian’s lap on wide eyes, “Shit, Charles. Are you alright? Did you phone the police?”

Charles sighs and perches on the edge of the table in front of them - ignoring the baking show on the TV because he’ll tease them about that later - and rests his chin on his bent arms.

“I’m fine, I didn’t even realise they’d taken it until after. I spoke to the Police but even they said it’ll be unlikely I’ll get it back,” He mutters darkly, thinking about the low life that now possesses his custom watch.

Lewis leans forward on a half smile, “Well at least you’re alright, Charlie. You can replace a watch. When did it happen?”

“I was signing autographs and then I realised it was gone. I drove after them but -“

“You what? Did you seriously just say you drove after them?” Sebastian interjects, his raised voice making Charles’ eyes widen.

“They stole my watch! It’s limited edition!”

Sebastian’s stare is a death sentence as he tries to process the complete idiocy that just came out of his boyfriend’s mouth.

He didn’t choose to love Charles. In fact if he had a choice in who he loved he’d probably choose someone that infuriates him less; he’d choose someone that doesn’t go about life as if they are immortal.

He didn’t choose to love Charles, it was as if some higher power brought them together. He didn’t choose to love Charles but now he does he knows he’ll never stop.

When he fell in love with Charles it’s like he made a vow with the universe, an unspoken promise that one day that love will cause him pain.

To know love is to know grief and to say hello you’ll one day have to say goodbye.

When loving Charles hurts it feels almost like a curse and he sometimes wonders why he subjects himself to this misery but then he sees Charles smile and it’s worth it every time. It’s always worth it.

Right now though loving Charles hurts because once again he’s been frivolous with his life - as if their love isn’t enough to make him want to live forever. Like Charles’ love is for him.

“Who cares about the watch, Charles?! Fuck! How stupid are you? You never chase after thieves! What if they had a gun? What if they had a knife? What if they were bigger than you? Do you ever think?”

Sebastian is yelling and it’s been so long since the man has acted like this that Charles feels frozen in place.

“I’m not stupid,” He murmurs, because out of everything Sebastian said that’s the thing that sticks with him.

Sebastian and Lewis always tell him he’s not but hearing the word out of his boyfriend’s mouth makes him question whether they mean it.

The German sighs and reaches his arms out, trying to pull Charles onto the sofa, only for the younger man to push him off with an insolent look.

“Come here, Charlie,” Sebastian insists, tugging at his boyfriend’s wrist again and glaring when he’s once again pushed away.

“Charles, come here,”

The Monegasque raises his eyes to meet the heated scowl being directed his way and plops down on the sofa with a sigh. He knows better than to test his luck when Sebastian is looking at him like that.

“I’m sorry I called you stupid, sweetheart. I don’t think you’re stupid. I do sometimes think you make stupid choices though,” Sebastian states sternly, carding his hand through his boyfriend’s soft hair, “You shouldn’t ever chase after criminals, Charles. I don’t even care if they’ve stolen your car. You don’t know what they’re capable of,”

Charles pulls a disgruntled face and looks at the older man, “But they stole my watch! It’s worth nearly €300,000! I had to try and get it back,”

Sebastian pinches his nose and does his very best to keep his patience because he doesn’t want to shout at Charles - not when he’s just been through something that could be quite traumatic - but like he does most of the time, Charles is getting on his very last nerve.

He glances over at Lewis hoping he’ll help him get through to their inconceivably rash boyfriend.

Lewis turns on the sofa so he’s facing the younger man’s side profile and grasps his hand, “Charles, I know you liked the watch but it’s really dangerous to try and get it back yourself. That’s what the Police are there for,”

Charles snorts and folds his arm across his chest, “The Police won’t get it back! I would have been fine, not that it mattered anyway because I couldn’t find them,”

If someone asked Lewis to describe Charles he could talk for hours, the words would fall out of his mouth in endless streams of love. It isn’t just words that come to mind; it’s pictures, places, songs, and memories.

If someone asked him to describe Charles he’d run out of words because nothing could compare, but there’s one word that would always be there.

Reckless.

Charles has always been reckless. He’s reckless on the track, making moves that anyone with any sense wouldn’t dare. He’s reckless with his compassion, handing it out to people that don’t deserve it.

More than anything though he’s reckless with his life. Charles walks around as if nothing could hurt him, as if he’ll always end up back in their arms without a scratch on him.

He hopes it’s that anyway.

There’s a part of Lewis that worries it might not be that. That Charles understands the risks he takes. But he just doesn’t care. He wouldn’t care if he ended up dead in a fireball inferno on the edge of the track. He wouldn’t care if someone drilled bullets into his body.

“Charles,” He grates, squeezing the younger man’s knee even if it’s just to remind himself that Charles is still here and he’s safe, “This is serious. You cannot go around acting like that. One day you’re going to end up really hurt and Seb and I might not be there to help you,”

“I don’t care,” Charles spits, “I don’t care if I get hurt. People shouldn’t steal,”

It’s all the confirmation Lewis needs and the words break his heart. Charles doesn’t care what happens to him. He fights so hard for the people he loves and Lewis only wished he’d fight that hard for himself.

“Well we fucking care, Charles! We fucking care about you so even if for some deluded, messed up reason you don’t care about yourself then think about us! We would care if something happened to you! It would destroy us!” Lewis isn’t sure when he started shouting but the ashamed look on the younger man’s face makes him glad he did.

He needs Charles to understand that his choices impact on them too.

Charles is a little bit broken but he’s not unfixable. His soul is restless and Lewis craves the day when the waves will no longer drown him. He is strong and brave, and he won’t let anyone tell the younger man otherwise.

Charles is everything to him. Charles is in everything he does. He’s in his winning. He’s in his losing. He’s in his laugh. He’s in his tears.

When the light catches Charles’ eyes, he knows what it’s like to love the sun. When he reaches for Charles in the bed in their darkened bedroom, he knows what it’s like to love the shadows.

Lewis isn’t sure about much in life but he’s certain he’ll love Charles Leclerc long after he’s left this earth.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think about it like that. I just wanted my watch back,” Charles mumbles, fiddling his fingers in his lap and staring down at them.

Sebastian snorts, “I’ll buy you a fucking new watch! I’ll buy you whatever you want but you need to promise me that you will never do something like this again!”

Charles rolls his eyes, “I don’t need you to buy me a new one. They’ll give me a new one,”

“Promise me, Charles! Promise me that you will never risk your life like that again!”

“I risk my life nearly every weekend, Sebastian! So do the both of you!”

Sebastian grips the younger man’s shoulder hard enough that Charles squirms under the hold, “I’m not talking about that, Charles. I’m talking about you making reckless choices. It’s one thing racing cars but it’s a completely different thing going out of your way to put yourself in danger. Promise me that you will never do that again,”

It’s a plea. He’d get down on his hands and knees and beg for Charles to love himself as much as they love him. He’d burn down the entire world to protect Charles.

“I promise. I promise I won’t ever do anything like that again,”

Charles looks sincere and Sebastian genuinely believes that he wants to mean it, but he knows Charles. He knows that he will carry on living as if it didn’t matter whether he woke up the next day.

And that scares him, because he can’t imagine waking up without Charles.
_______________________________________________

Sebastian and Lewis are discussing their plans for dinner - which is what they tended to spend most of the drivers parade’s doing - when Pierre appears next to them on a frown.

“There’s something wrong with Charles,” The Frenchmen mumbles quietly, trying to avoid the microphones surrounding them.

“What do you mean? Is he alright?” Lewis questions, scanning his eyes around the lorry seeking for the younger man, “Where is he?”

Pierre points to the other side, past groups of drivers chatting away, and at a slouched Charles. The Monegasque is sitting on the floor with his knees tucked up to his chest and his head lowered.

“I think he’s sick but he won’t listen to me,”

Sebastian purses his lips, “He was fine this morning. We’ll talk to him. Thanks Pierre,”

They manoeuvre through the other drivers and crouch down in front of Charles, doing their best to shield him from the cameras.

“Charlie, are you alright?” Sebastian queries, resting his hand on the younger man’s damp hair.

“I’m fine,” Charles replies, keeping his head down. Without even seeing his face though Sebastian knows he’s sick. He can hear the hoarseness in his voice.

Lewis must be able to hear it too because he shakes their boyfriend’s shoulder gently, “Look at us, Charles,”

“Leave me alone, I’m fine,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and grips the younger man’s chin, forcing his face up. His suspicions are confirmed when Charles’ pale face and hazy eyes greet him.

“Fuck, Charles, you look awful,” He murmurs, placing his palm on the Monegasque’s forehead and grimacing when it’s as hot as a radiator, “You’re not well, sweetheart. I think you’ll be better going back to the hotel after this,”

Lewis copies him placing a hand on the boy’s forehead and sighing, “Seb’s right, Charlie. You’ve probably got the flu,”

Charles pushes him off on narrowed eyes which have little effect when they’re coming from such a fragile looking face. “I’m fine. It’s just a cold. Stop crowding me, people will notice and they might stop me racing,”

Lewis scoffs and pushes his boyfriend’s dark hair back from his forehead, not missing that it’s slick with sweat, “There’s no way you’re racing today, Charles. You’ll crash. Mattia will understand,”

“I am racing! I’m on pole! I can win! Lando raced when he had tonsillitis. You two are just too over protective,” Charles hisses, leaning his head back against the side of the lorry and giving them what he hopes is an intimidating look.

“Charles,” Sebastian warns, “This is not up for debate. We are not being over protective. You can’t race if you can’t even stand up,”

“You can’t tell me what to do, Seb!”

Lewis stands up and glares down at the younger man, “Stand up on your own for the rest of the parade and we won’t mention it again. If you can’t do that then you shouldn’t be racing,”

Charles glowers at him but clumsily tries to stand up, only for his legs to give way underneath him. Sebastian catches him before he falls onto the floor and inevitably gains the attention of the reporters surrounding them.

“You’re not racing, Charles. It’s too dangerous, not only to yourself but to others too,” Sebastian lectures, lowering his boyfriend back to floor and up against the side of the lorry.

Charles doesn’t reply and Sebastian drops to his level again with fierce eyes, “Charles, tell me that you’re not going to race. It’s not safe,”

“I’m not going to race,” The younger man mutters, dropping his head onto his knees again.

“Good. Go back to your hotel and we’ll come by after,”

They spend the rest of the parade assuring other drivers that Charles is okay, but he’s not well enough to race.

When it looks like one of the microphones is heading their way they turn around to avoid it. The last thing Charles needs is a reporter asking him questions.

Lewis grasps Carlos by the arm before he exits off the vehicle and pulls him over to his boyfriend, “Charles isn’t very well. Can you help him back to the garage? He’s going to go back to the hotel,”

Carlos gives his teammate a sympathetic look and wraps an arm around his shoulders, stabilising his shaking body, “You don’t look good at all, mate,”

“I’m fine,” Charles barks, covering his mouth when he’s overcome by a coughing fit.

“He is not fine. Don’t let him convince Mattia that he is either,” Sebastian snaps, not taking his eyes off his boyfriend, “Charles, go back to the hotel. If I see you on the track then the flu will be the least of your worries,”

Carlos smirks at the threat but Charles just pouts, looking like he’s feeling very sorry for himself.

“Make sure he’s alright please, mate,” Lewis urges the Spaniard before carding a hand through Charles’ hair, “We’ll see you later, sweetheart. I’ll stop somewhere and get you some medicine. Just go back and get some sleep,”

Charles forces a smile as the two men help him down the steps before waving them off and turning back to his teammate.

“I’m fine to race, mate. They’re just being over protective. Don’t say anything to Mattia,”

Carlos frowns and holds him tighter to his side when it looks like he’ll topple over, “You’re not fine, mate. You can’t be racing like this,”

Charles looks up at his teammate with pleading eyes, “Carlos, I will be fine. I’ll have some water and I’ll be okay. You know I can win this. Don’t take that away from me,”

Carlos sighs but doesn’t argue, instead guiding the younger man over to their garage and becoming increasingly worried when he starts to sway on his feet.

Charles isn’t sure how me makes it to the car but he’s thankful he does. He closes his eyes and tries to push down the feeling that he’s about to pass out.

When he opens them he can see Sebastian and Lewis in the distance getting into their own cars. Despite the gap between them it’s impossible to miss the furious looks they’re shooting him.

Charles sighs and gets into his car, he’ll deal with them later. Once he’s got through the race they’ll have no leg to stand on.

It’s only the third lap when he starts to feel his eyes blinking shut and the throbbing of his head becoming unbearable.

Closing his eyes for just a second to gather himself, he opens them to realise he’s swerving into the barrier.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He shouts through the radio.

The car comes to a dramatic stop and he leans back in his seat, moving his neck and legs around to make sure the impact didn’t do any damage.

He doesn’t feel any worse than he did before he got into the car so he takes that as a win.

“Charles, are you okay? What happened?” His engineers voice crackles through.

“I’m fine. Sorry, I lost control of the car,”

“Copy. Go to medical to get checked out,”

He groans internally knowing that as soon as one of the doctors see him they’re going to lecture him about getting in the car in the first place. 


It’s worse that he’ll have to hear the same spiel from Mattia, his friends, and boyfriends.

Dragging himself out of the car, he makes his way to the medical tent.

They bring him into a small room to examine him and it’s what he expected; he’s got flu and they grill him for racing in his condition. They do at least give him some medicine and a bottle of water which manage to make him feel a bit more like a real person.

The thought of seeing Mattia is enough to make his headache worse so he heads straight to his driver’s room and collapses on the bed, still in his racing suit.

Sebastian is a man on a mission as he stalks to Ferrari. The mission being to murder his boyfriend if the flu hadn’t already done that for him.

He doesn’t slow his pace when Lewis runs over to him but he does give him a look he hopes displays how angry he is.

“I know. I’m actually going to kill him,” Lewis snaps, speeding up his steps.

Sebastian huffs out a breath - at least he knows he looks as angry as he feels.

The fury subsides slightly when they open the door to Charles’ driver’s room and find him curled up in the tiny bed, covered by a thin blanket.

Then the replays of Charles slamming into the barrier up on the screens flash in his mind and his anger surfaces.

“I’m going to kill you, Charles! I told you not to race! You lied to me!” Sebastian yells, slamming the door behind them.

Charles groans and tugs the blanket over his face, “Seb, don’t shout. You don’t need to kill me, I’m already dying,”

Sebastian let’s out a long breath and tries to gather his patience. It’s almost concerning how often he finds himself needing to calm himself down because Charles has done something that has caused his blood pressure to spike.

If he didn’t know any better he’d think Charles was trying to give him an actual heart attack.

“I’ll kill you when you’re feeling better then,” He mutters, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Lewis kneels down on the floor so he’s level with Charles’ face and rests a hand on his cheek, “You’re still really warm. Have you taken any medicine yet?”

“I took some about an hour ago, it’s not really helping,” Charles mumbles, coughing half way through, and Lewis supposes he should just be thankful the younger man is actually admitting to not feeling well now.

“You’re such a nightmare, Charlie. I can’t believe you drove when you’re feeling like this. This isn’t the end of this, we’re furious at you,”

Charles pouts and raises his clammy hand to cover the man’s hand on his cheek, “Can you be furious at me and give me a cuddle?”

Lewis rolls his eyes and has to fight back the smile because of course Charles Leclerc manages to be adorable enough that he almost forgets he’s angry.

“You’re a little demon,” He snaps half heartedly, climbing off the floor and scooting into the bed behind the younger man, dragging his warm body into his chest.

“You love me though,” Charles replies and Lewis can hear the hesitation in his voice and it’s enough to make him hold onto him that little bit tighter.

“Of course I love you. It doesn’t mean I’m not going to kill you when you’re better though,”

Lewis had never understood love until he felt Charles’ and Sebastian’s lips on his. It was like the world exploded. The love songs made sense. They came along and explained the true meaning of love.

He would spend the rest of his life protecting their love. Protecting Charles.

Charles holds out an arm to Sebastian and the man narrows his eyes on him, “I am really mad, Charles. I can’t believe you would do something as stupid as racing when you could barely stand,”

“I’m sorry, Seb. I didn’t want to miss a race, although I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’m guessing Max won?”

Sebastian looks down at him not really wanting to indulge his curiosity but knowing he won’t stop asking if he doesn’t, “No, it was Carlos. Max didn’t finish the race, he had engine problems,”

Charles’ face breaks out into a grin and it infuriates Sebastian even more.

“That means I’m still in the lead then. How did you two do?” Charles glees.

“Don’t, Charles. I don’t want to talk about the race. I really don’t care where you are in the championship either. Right now I don’t even care if you ever win one. You can never do this again. You could have been seriously hurt,”

He wishes he could wrap Charles in cotton wool and protect him from anything that could ever hurt him.

Even if that means protecting him from himself and his careless tendencies.

He wants to remind him that the sun will reappear and that this day will be over. He wants to whisper words of comfort into his pale skin and make them stay there everyday until Charles takes his last breath.

“Seb, please don’t be mad. I feel really poorly and I’ll only feel better when you’re both cuddling me,”

The words reach the part of his heart that isn’t still thundering from the image of Charles’ car in the barrier.

They don’t get to see Charles like this often; his walls down and vulnerable.

Charles isn’t a needy person. In fact, most of the time it’s him and Lewis encouraging him into affection. They’re the ones that pull him in for hugs, that hold him close and bathe in the feel of his body next to theirs.

So, there’s a part of him that almost enjoys Charles being sick. He likes when Charles is needy and begging for their cuddles. He likes when just for a moment it feels like he could shield Charles from all the bad in the world.

Sebastian sighs and gives in because he knows it’ll only be a couple of days and then he won’t get to have Charles like this. He can be angry at him when he’s back to being the chaotic little demon he normally is.

“I love you, Charles. Don’t you ever do that to me again,” He murmurs into his hair, holding him close, an unyielding protective hold.

Loving Charles is scary. It’s unpredictable, and messy. It’s a butterfly in it’s transformation from something so ordinary to something so extraordinary.

Loving Charles is the butterflies, the ones in his stomach that never seem to fade. It’s the moment when he looks into Charles’ eyes and time stops. It’s when time moves so quickly that one hour becomes one breath.

Love is Charles’ breath. It’s the sound of his heart beating in his chest. It’s falling asleep and holding him in his arms.

It’s forever.

Chapter Text

There are days when it feels like the entire world is against him. 

Today is one of those days; he doesn’t have an ounce of strength left because it doesn’t feel like there’s any point in surviving until tomorrow. 

It feels like the darkness has overtaken his body and flooded his mind with awful thoughts. He will remember this day forever. It will be scarred into his memory. 

24 July 2022, the day he lost his first championship.

It’s not really pain, or disappointment. It’s just a dull ache that radiates through his entire body. A dull ache that is so overwhelming it feels like it’ll be there forever. The wins won’t feel the same this season, if he even manages to get anymore. They’ll just be a reminder of what he could have had if it wasn’t for his own stupid mistake. 

Charles isn’t sure whether it’s better that it’s entirely his own fault or whether it’d be easier if he could blame the team. At least if it was a strategy call like so many other races, he wouldn’t have to be so hard on himself. This time it’s all his fault and there’s no one else that deserves to suffer other than him. 

He should go home, but it doesn’t feel like it’d make anything better. There’s nothing that could bring him comfort right now. The frail strings that had been holding him together have snapped. 

He’s not happy. He’s not sad. He’s nothing. 

He’s both numb and completely sapped of energy. It feels like he’s been awake for three days straight and nothing makes sense anymore. He’s worthless. He’s let everyone down. 

The streets of Le Castellet span out underneath him as he perches on the balcony railing. If Mattia saw him like this he’d drag him back into his hotel room and yell at him for breaking his contract and risking his life. 

It’s not risking his life until he jumps though. 

He could jump. 

It’s high enough that he wouldn’t survive. A part of him wants to jump but he knows he won’t. Charles could never leave behind his family, not when they’ve already lost so much. He could never leave Lewis and Sebastian. The guilt would be overwhelming. 

If he slipped though, well that wouldn’t be anyones fault. It would be a tragic accident. 

And it’d be easy to slip. His feet are dangling over the edge and it’d only take the wind picking up to make him lose his balance. 

He could slip.

Neither Sebastian or Lewis are too surprised when they find out from Carlos that Charles went straight back to the hotel after his media duties. 

They’d managed to grab a quick second with him in the media pen but the younger man had seemed completely in his own head, barely registering their words. 

“Maybe he’s asleep?” Lewis questions, as Sebastian continues to knock on the hotel room door. 

“More like he’s ignoring us. Have you got the spare key? I left mine in my hotel room,” 

Lewis pulls out his wallet and bypasses Sebastian’s room key to pull out Charles’, handing it to the German. 

The lock beeps and they make their way into the room, stopping in their tracks when the balcony door is wide open and Charles is perched on the railing. Sebastian places the bag of shopping on the table and walks over to the door. 

“Charles, you need to get down from there right now,” He orders, the nerves in his voice making it sound a lot less authoritative than he’d hoped. He looks between the young man and what must be at least a 50 foot drop to the city streets. 

“Don’t come any closer,” Charles croaks, and without even seeing his face, Sebastian knows there must be tears dripping down his cheeks. 

Lewis and Sebastian share a panicked look as they try to determine how they’re going to handle this situation. They knew it’d be bad. They’d expected to find Charles completely inconsolable - but not like this. They hadn’t planned for this.  

“Charlie, just get down from there. We can sit on the balcony if you want to sit outside,” Lewis pleads, his eyes darting between his boyfriend and the drop below him. 

“Please leave me alone,” Charles begs, his hands gripping the railings tight enough that his knuckles are almost poking through his skin. 

Sebastian takes a step closer and tries to stop the tears he can feel burning in his eyes, “We are not going anywhere, Charles. You need to get down from there,” 

Charles doesn’t reply and the only sound around is the traffic from the streets below and their heavy breathing. 

“Do you two believe in Heaven?” 

The questions falls between them like a lead balloon, and Lewis really doesn’t like where this is going. The most concerning thing though is the tone of Charles’ voice. It’s too calm - as if he already knows what’s going to happen next. 

They take another step closer, keeping an eye on the younger man so they don’t spook him. 

“I don’t know, Charlie. I think it’s a nice idea. I hope there’s a heaven,” Lewis answers, stepping closer, “You need to get down from there,”

“I think I do, or at least I want to,” Charles murmurs, starring out at the sky, “I think about my Father there, and about Jules. Sometimes I think I’d rather be there than here, you know?” 

Sebastian let’s out a shaky breath, not even bothering to fight back the tears anymore, “Don’t say things like that, Charles. You’ve got an entire life to live here still,”

Charles let’s out a humourless laugh, broken up by sobs, “I don’t deserve this life. I shouldn’t be in F1. I’m a fucking failure. At least if I was up there I wouldn’t be disappointing anyone,” 

“You’re not disappointing anyone, Charles. You made a mistake. You’re still young, this will only make you better,” Lewis states, taking another step closer, eyes flicking between Sebastian and Charles’ back.

They’ve managed to get close enough to Charles that he’s within arms reach. Lewis looks over at Sebastian with a nod and within a second they wrap their arms around the younger man and pull him back onto the balcony. 

The screaming cry that escapes Charles’ mouth is almost animalistic. Lewis has never heard anything so painful. It’s the kind of ear piercing scream that will haunt his sleep for the next month.

“Get off me! Let me go!” Charles yells, the tears choking his voice and making it come out in some kind of strangled shout. 

Lewis grips him by the waist and forces him to the floor, holding the younger man between him and Sebastian. His nails are digging into Charles’ pale skin but he doesn’t relinquish his hold.

“Charles, it’s okay, it’s okay, sweetheart,” Lewis whispers, dragging his hand through the younger man’s hair. 

“No it’s not!” Charles roars, struggling in their hold and eventually giving up when he realises it’s futile, “I’ve lost it. I’ve lost the championship,” 

Sebastian presses a chaste kiss to his boyfriend’s damp cheek, both their tears mixing together, “There’s still so many races left, Charles. You have no idea how the rest of the season will go,” 

The sight of his boyfriend completely broken reminds him of himself after Hockenheim.

He likes to tell people that Charles reminds him of himself when he was younger. He’s normally proud of it, but right now he wishes Charles wasn’t so much like him. 

He wishes Charles didn’t have to make the same mistakes he did. He wishes Charles didn’t have to go through the pain of feeling like you’re not good enough and watching as the championship slips from your fingers. 

If he could he’d take the pain. He’d go through it all over again if it meant his boyfriend didn’t have to. 

Charles groans, rubbing at his eyes, “Shut up, Seb! Just shut up! You know I’ve lost it! Don’t try and make this better!” 

The harshness in the younger man’s voice should scare him off. If it was anyone else then he’d second guess himself, but not with Charles.

He knows Charles, and he knows what he’s going through. It’s not the first time Sebastian has seen him in a state like this, but he prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that it’s the last. 

“I don’t know that, Charles, and neither do you. Even if you don’t win it this year, you’ve got years ahead of you and I know you’ll be a champion one day. You’re so young. You’re still only at the beginning,” 

The thought of him only being at the beginning of his career isn’t as reassuring as Sebastian thinks it is. When Charles thinks about the next decade; the losses, the disappointments, the pain, it doesn’t even seem worth it.

He sighs and drops his head to his knees, “I don’t think I’m ever going to get over this,” He whimpers, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” 

“Of course you can, Charlie,” Lewis assures, his hand sneaking up the younger man’s t-shirt and stroking calming patterns onto his back, “You’ll always remember this but it’ll only make you a better driver. Seb and I have made mistakes like this before and we learnt from them. That’s how you become a champion,” 

“I’ve been exactly where you are before, Charles, and I know I was older than you and I’d already won championships but it still hurt. I didn’t think I’d survive it. It almost ruined me but I carried on. You’ve always got to carry on, sweetheart. There’s so many people that believe in you,” Sebastian urges, his hand moving up to Charles’ nape and squeezing gently. 

He’s got to carry on. The words almost make him laugh. How is he supposed to carry on when it feels like he’s going to be stuck in this one day forever? The media won’t let this go. People will always remember this as the day he failed. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again. I don’t think I’ll ever laugh again or enjoy something. I’ll just always feel numb,” 

Sebastian cups his cheek and tilts his head up, the sight of Charles’ lifeless eyes enough to break his heart, “Yes you will, Charlie, I promise. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and it won’t seem as bad, and then everyday after that it’ll feel better until you don’t even think about it anymore. One day it’ll just be a lesson you’ve learnt from,” 

And Charles hopes that’s true. He’s stuck right now, the unbearable thoughts crashing over him like waves and drowning him. He hopes he manages to stay above the surface, and that one day he’ll take a deep breath and wonder why it ever felt so hard to breathe in the first place.

“I don’t even know where I went wrong,” Charles cries, lifting his head and looking between them, “How can I learn from it if I don’t even know where I went wrong?” 

“We can look at it together if you want? Seb and I might be able to see something you can’t. You can get your engineer to send over the data and we’ll watch the race back and figure it out,” 

Charles snorts and looks at the Brit with narrowed eyes, “Why would you want to do that? We are rivals,”

Lewis gives him a soft smile. He wishes that Charles would understand that racing is nothing compared to their love. He wishes Charles knew that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make him smile. 

Does Charles know that his eyes become oceans when they lock into his? Wave after wave they crash into the shores of his heart and he’d let himself be carried away in them.

Does Charles know that his hands ignite fires that dance along his body and leave every inch of his skin begging to be burned by his delicate finger tips?

Does Charles know that his lips plant gardens with each tender kiss?

“We are rivals but I love you and that is more important. I’ll do anything I can to help you become a better driver, Charlie. You’re the future of F1,” 

Charles nods his head on a shaky breath, the arms around him and the soft voices making the noise in his head quieter. “Okay,” 

Sebastian stands up and bends back down to pull the younger man up by the arm, “Come on, sweetheart. Why don’t you go and have a shower? I’ll make us some hot chocolate,” 

Charles frowns, “I don’t have any hot chocolate, they only have tea and coffee,” 

Sebastian smiles and pulls the younger man into his arms, “I got some on the way. I even got cream and marshmallows. I figured after a day like today you needed something comforting,” 

“Did you get chocolate to sprinkle over it too?” 

Sebastian arches an eyebrow, “No, I didn’t. When have we ever had chocolate on them? That’d be way too much sugar,” 

“We have had it before, you probably can’t remember though. You forget a lot these days,” Charles grumbles, into the older man’s shoulder. 

“Are you calling me old?” Sebastian drawls, looking down at the younger man but not being able to catch his eye. 

He feels Charles shrug his shoulders, “Cheeky bastard,” He mutters, trapping his boyfriend against his body with a steel grip and digging his fingers into his sides, causing Charles to erupt into giggles. 

The Monegasque pushes him away on a glare and Sebastian cups his cheek, using his other hand to poke him in the ribs for good measure, elating at the grin on Charles’ face.

See? He wants to say. You will laugh again. You will be happy again. I won’t ever let you forget how to. I’ll never let the world get too heavy for you. I’ll be here. 

Charles rests their foreheads together, “I don’t deserve you,” He mutters, glancing at Lewis, “I don’t deserve either of you,” 

Lewis rolls his eyes and cups the Monegasque’s nape, “Of course you do, Charles. We love you, we’ll always love you,” 

“Thank you,” He whispers and he’s not sure what he’s thanking them for. It’s not just the hot chocolate though, he knows that. It’s for everything. It’s for never leaving him. 

Lewis and Sebastian were his first. Not his first kiss, first time holding hands, or even first love. They are the first people he felt completely safe with. They are the first people to love him through everything and he hopes they’re the last. 

He is not crazily in love with them anymore. His heart doesn’t skip a beat anymore when they look at him. It doesn’t feel like fireworks exploding or storms colliding. 

This love is calm and silent. It makes his heart beat slower and it allows him to heal. He always thought he’d be madly in love with them but it took some time to realise this is the kind of love he needs. 

Sebastian ushers him into the shower and Charles smiles from the bathroom doorway as he watches the older man pull out everything for the hot chocolates. 

He’ll never be alone, he realises. Lewis and Sebastian will always be there to pick him up when life knocks him down. 

The water manages to wash away the tears that felt like they’d be permanently etched on his skin and for the first time since he’d crashed out, he feels like he can breathe properly. The weight on his shoulders doesn’t feel as heavy anymore. 

Grief has taught him a lot about surrender and he’s choosing to stand in front of the years that ridiculed his tenderness. 

His heart is less creature and more his best. Less sacrifice, more empathy. 

He’ll no longer bleed for anything that doesn’t stay with him until morning. 

He has no interest in dying for the things he loves anymore. It’s better just to live for them. 

Once he’s showered and Sebastian has placed their mugs on the table in front of them, Charles opens his laptop and finds the data from the race along with the clips. 

“What tyres are on you at this point, medium?” Lewis questions, leaning forward to get a better view of the screen. 

“Medium,” Charles replies, “I had no grip. It felt like I was on ice,” 

Sebastian hums, “There wasn’t really much you could do, Charlie. The tyres were too old. The only thing I would say is you might have pushed a bit hard here,” Sebastian explains, pointing at the screen. 

Lewis nods in agreement and rewinds, “Yeah it’s here, Charles. You went too hard on the rear tires,” He points out, looking at the younger man who is nodding along, a look of concentration on his face.

“I should have taken the corner slower?” He confirms, rewinding again. 

Sebastian pushes his hand away from the laptop and pauses it, “Do you see when you come onto the corner here? I would have slowed down just a bit there,” 

Charles listens as the older men reply the clips a few more times, suggesting how he could have approached it differently. Sebastian goes over the data with him, addressing any concerns he has. 

The dull ache in his body is still there but it’s not as strong. Instead he can feel the warmth in his chest. The same warmth he always has when he’s with Lewis and Sebastian.

_______________________________________________

Lewis should have seen it coming when Charles had gone straight to bed the night before insisting he wasn’t hungry.

He should have seen it coming when he spoke to Carlos last week and the Spaniard was telling him he’d had the worst cold all week. 

There’s not much worse than a sick Charles. The younger man likes to tease them about how they act when they’re sick but he’s never known anyone as needy as a poorly Charles Leclerc. 

“Lewis, stroke my hair,” Charles murmurs into his chest, trying to discreetly wipe his runny nose on Lewis’ t-shirt.

It wasn’t discreet. Lewis had seen it but he won’t call him out for it because Charles will just cry and the only thing worse than a sick Charles is a sick, crying, Charles. 

“You’re soaked in sweat,” Lewis grumbles but cards his fingers through the damp hair anyway, even pressing a kiss against it and tasting the salty sweat in his mouth. 

Sebastian wanders back into the bedroom holding a bag full of medicines. 

“Alright, Charlie. They didn’t have the syrup you like so you’ll have to take the tablets,” He explains, holding out the boxes to his boyfriend. 

Charles’ eyes start to water and Sebastian already knows where this is going so he braces himself for the complaining. 

“I don’t like swallowing tablets,” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes and sits down on the bed, resting a hand to the younger man’s forehead and grimacing when it’s still as warm as it had been earlier. “I know you don’t, sweetheart, but this is all they had at the shop. If you want to feel better then you’ll have to take them,” 

It’s the voice he’d use if he was talking to a child - that’s what Charles is when he’s sick though. He’s a child. 

It’s not often that the Monegasque gets sick but when he does it takes everything in Sebastian not to just ship him off to Pierre’s. 

He loves Charles with every fibre in his body and he would gladly die for him, but that doesn’t change the fact that the younger man is absolutely pathetic when he’s not feeling well. 

Charles shakes his head on a whimper and burrows back into Lewis’ chest, “I can’t take them. Can you dissolve them in some warm juice? My Mum used to do that,” 

Sebastian stares at the younger man wondering if it’d be easier just to force the tablets down his throat. It’s a good job Charles can’t see the look he’s giving him because it’d definitely make him cry. 

He lifts his gaze to Lewis who is looking just as fed up with their boyfriend as he is - his fever only started a few hours ago too so they’ve got at least the rest of the day dealing with him. 

“We haven’t got any juice, sweetheart,” He reminds Charles through gritted teeth and before Charles even replies he knows what he’ll say. 

“You can go back to the shop and get some,” 

It’s exactly what he thought Charles would reply and the younger man shuffles around in Lewis’ embrace to look at him with hazy eyes, a bright red nose and pale skin. 

“You don’t mind do you?” 

Sebastian does mind. He minds very much actually. The closest shop is a fifteen minute drive and it’s pouring down with rain outside. There’s nothing he’d rather do less. 

Despite that he stands up and leans over to cup his boyfriend’s warm cheek, “Of course I don’t mind, Charlie. What flavour do you want?” 

It’s a sickness he suffers from - not being able to deny Charles anything when he’s poorly, or when he’s healthy most of the time too. 

Charles might test his patience when he’s sick - to the point where he has to take calming breaths in another room - but he looks so fragile and young that he can’t help feeling anything but over protective.

“Orange please,” 

“I’ll be back in half an hour. Just try and get some sleep, sweetheart,” Sebastian presses a kiss to his hair, shooting an aggrieved look at Lewis who only smirks in return. 

Lewis watches him go and sighs internally at the knowledge he’s going to have to deal with their boyfriend for the next half an hour on his own. 

“Lewis, I want a cuddle,” 

“We are having a cuddle, Charlie,” He mutters, pulling his boyfriend closer into his side. 

“No, I want a bigger cuddle. You’re not cuddling me properly,” Charles protests, looking up at him with wide, teary eyes. 

They’re one second away from the tears dripping onto Charles’ cheeks. 

“Okay, okay,” Lewis soothes, gently tugging the younger man onto his body and wrapping both his arms around him, moving his head slightly when Charles’ hair starts going up his nostrils. “Is this better?” 

Charles hums in approval and Lewis tries to ignore the heat radiating through Charles’ body. It’ll only take a few minutes of it before he’s sweating himself. 

There’s something about having Charles like this; completely vulnerable and desperate for his affection, that he can’t help but find endearing even if the younger man is sick. 

“I love you, Charlie,” 

He can hear Charles yawn and then feels him snuggle back into the crook of his neck, “Love you too, Lewis. Love you so much”, 

Lewis can’t keep the smile off his face at that. He’ll never get tired of hearing those words from his boyfriend. 

Charles is asleep by the time Sebastian arrives back and the German smiles at them from the doorway of the bedroom.

“Did you get the juice?” Lewis questions, noting the man’s empty hands. 

Sebastian nods and crosses the room, perching at the edge of the bed and stroking a hand through Charles’ damp hair, “It’s in the kitchen. How long has he been asleep?” 

“Only about twenty minutes, he feels like a literal radiator though,” 

Sebastian hums, “Can you wake him up? I’ll go and sort some medicine out,” 

Lewis groans and tries to pull the German back when he walks away, “He’ll be all moody if I wake him up, can’t we just let him sleep?” 

“He needs to take some medicine or he won’t feel any better. Anyway, I did not just go all the way back to the shop to get some juice for him not to drink it,” 

Lewis rolls his eyes, but gently shakes the younger man still resting on top of him, “Charlie, sweetheart, wake up. You need to take some medicine,” 

Charles groans and snuggles back into Lewis’ chest, completely ignoring his boyfriend. 

“Charles, you really need to wake up. Come on, sweetheart,” Lewis pesters, eventually giving up and choosing to just roll his boyfriend off him onto the bed. 

“Lewis,” Charles cries, trying to force himself back on top of the older man. Lewis pushes him away and wraps him into his side, “You can go back to sleep in a minute, Charlie. Just wait for Seb to bring you some medicine,” 

As if on cue, Sebastian walks in holding a mug of warm juice with some flu medicine mixed in. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” He murmurs, sitting on the bed and cupping the younger man’s cheek, “Drink this, Charlie,” He instructs gently, passing him the mug. 

Charles takes a few tentative sips and grimaces, “Seb, I think I like blackcurrant better actually. Can you go back to shop?” 

Sebastian stares at him and tries to work out if his boyfriend is being serious. Charles looks serious though, his hazy eyes are pleading. 

He glances at Lewis and the oldest man is obviously trying to fight back a laugh. 

“I’m not going back to the shop again, Charles. Just drink the orange. You like it normally,” He insists, trying to keep the anger he can feel burning in his stomach at his boyfriend’s audacity from boiling over. 

The puppy dog eyes the younger man shoots him are still not enough to change his mind, but the warning look he gives in return must be enough to convince Charles because he sighs and drinks the rest. 

“There you go, sweetheart. You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” Sebastian praises, taking the empty mug from him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’d prefer blackcurrant,” Charles mumbles, and Sebastian closes his eyes, gripping the mug in his hands hard enough it might break. 

“Why don’t we watch a film? You can choose one, Charlie,” Lewis suggests, picking the remote up from the side table and shooting Sebastian a look he hopes says leave him alone he’s sick.

Charles seems to perk up slightly at the idea and immediately takes the remote, smiling when Sebastian drops down onto the bed next to him and wraps an arm around his body. 

“Seb, can you stroke my hair?” Charles murmurs, titling his head in the direction of the older man. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly but obliges, carding his fingers through the dark hair. “Is there anything else I can do for the Ferrari Prince?” 

Charles beams, “You can go to the -“

”If you dare ask me to go to the shop to get you some blackcurrant juice then I will lock you outside and make you suffer this cold alone,” Sebastian interjects on narrowed eyes, knowing it’s empty an empty threat but hoping even with his foggy brain Charles will know better than to persist. 

“You’d really lock me outside?” Charles whimpers with tears forming in his eyes, and Sebastian really didn’t think the threat through because of course it would make Charles cry when he’s in this state. 

Lewis shoots a scowl at the German and presses a kiss to Charles’ cheek, “Seb didn’t mean that, sweetheart. Just pick a film,” 

Charles looks up at his boyfriend with accusing eyes, and pulls his head away placing it on Lewis’ chest and sighing contently when the man’s fingers run through his hair. Sebastian rolls his eyes, but doesn’t risk upsetting the younger man anymore by arguing. 

Until he sees the film. 

“Really, Charles? It’s a kids film. Can’t we watch something else?” Sebastian groans when the younger man presses play on Cars. 

Charles looks up at him with watery eyes and Sebastian already knows there’s no way he’s winning this argument. “Lewis said I can watch whatever I want and I used to watch this when I was sick and a child. Lewis wants to watch it, don’t you Lewis?” 

Lewis shoots him a smirk over the younger man’s head, “I want to watch whatever you want to watch, sweetheart,” 

Charles grins and raises his eyebrows at the German, “See, Seb. Lewis wants to watch it. You’re outvoted,”

Sebastian doesn’t argue but does make a mental note to get back at both his boyfriends for teaming up against him once Charles is feeling better. 

The Monegasque falls asleep within half an hour and Lewis goes to turn off the film, only for Sebastian to slap his hand away and argue he wants to see how it ends. 
_______________________________________________

Charles knows that Lewis and Sebastian are struggling. They’re struggling with their pride; their worth, and their ability. 

He can see the season taking it’s toll. He doesn’t miss the way they look more exhausted everyday. He doesn’t miss the frustration when they’re going over data. 

They try to shield him from it, he knows that. They force smiles on their faces and assure him everything is fine with an almost inhuman mask. They don’t want to burden him. They don’t want him to have to experience their struggles because they know one day he will experience them all on his own. 

Lewis and Sebastian think they’re protecting him. They think he’s not strong enough to take on their problems - that it’ll be enough to make him break. 

What they don’t realise though is that Charles will never let them suffer alone. He will take everything from them; their love, their joy, their pain, their tears. He will take it all and he will be glad about it. 

Charles will be there for them no matter what because they were there for him when nobody else was. They stayed with him at all his lowest points and he’ll never forget that his heart beats for them. 

“I made you some tea,” He announces, walking into the living room carrying two mugs of what he hopes constitutes as tea - although considering he doesn’t drink it, it could taste like pond water. 

“Thank you, Charlie,” Sebastian murmurs, accepting one of the mugs. The hollow look in his eyes managing to stretch to his entire face. 

It’s mirrored when he turns to Lewis and sees the same look. They’re tired but Charles has never felt more awake. He will carry their burdens when they are no longer strong enough. 

The room is quiet and it’s obvious even though the news is on the TV neither of them are watching it. Charles picks the remote up off the table and turns the TV off, ignoring the looks of irritation the older men shoot him. 

“I think we should talk about what’s bothering you two,” He suggests calmly, perching on the table in front of the sofa so he can look at them. It’s not often he’s in this position. Lewis and Sebastian are the ones that beg him to talk. They’re the ones that lay their love out to him and assure him it will always be there. 

He’s learnt from them though; he’s learnt more from them than he could ever have learnt at school. They’re the ones who taught him how to love. They’re the ones who taught him how to give without expecting anything in return. They’re the ones who taught him that loving is giving. That loving is forgiving. 

“Charles,” Lewis sighs, taking a sip of his tea, trying to cover the look of disgust, and placing it down on the table. “There’s nothing bothering us. It’s just the stress of the season. You know how it goes,” 

Charles does know how it goes. He knows what struggling with a car can do to you. Whenever he’d felt like everything was too much though Lewis and Sebastian helped him carry the weight. All he wants is to do the same for them. 

Sebastian and Lewis are busy trying to reach their dreams. They are consumed with the need to perform - to prove they are still worth it in a sport that will so quickly throw you away. They are filled with goals and aspirations, climbing the stairs to try and get them.

Charles watches them from afar, with his own dreams and aspirations, witnessing every step they’ve made. He will always remain standing there holding their stairs to be their support.

“Talk to me about it, I want to help even if that just means listening,” He pleads with wide eyes. 

Lewis shakes his head and tries to grab the remote back, hurling a look of indignation at the younger man when he grabs it back. “Charles, there’s nothing you can do. Just focus on your season,” 

The obvious frustration plastered over Charles’ face doesn’t make him anymore inclined to spew his issues. He talks to Sebastian about it. They don’t always manage to comfort each other but they can relate to each other and that in itself is a comfort. Charles couldn’t understand in the same way. He hasn’t been through over a decade of racing. Charles hasn’t been through enough lows of the sports yet. 

And why would they want to burden him with that. Why would they want to put a damper on what could be his best season yet? 

“You always tell me I have to talk about things so you should too! I want to be there for you but I can’t if you won’t let me,” Charles argues, looking between the older men. 

“We want you to talk about it because we know that you’ll just keep everything to yourself if you don’t. We want to make sure you’re okay and sometimes it’s obvious you’re not,” Sebastian asserts, narrowing his eyes and hoping the look he’s shooting the younger man is enough to make him drop this. 

Charle has never been someone that gives in that easily though so he should’ve known better. 

“I can see you two aren’t okay! I can see it but you won’t let me in! You’re both hypo- hyper- hypocrites,” He snaps, stumbling over the English pronunciation. 

“Hypocrites,” Sebastian corrects softly, “Charlie, we just don’t want you to have to worry about our stuff. You have enough of your own,” 

“I worry about your stuff anyway, Seb! I worry about you two all the time. I’ll worry less if you actually tell me what’s going on,” 

Lewis leans over to squeeze the Monegasque’s knee, “Charlie, there’s nothing for you to worry about. We’ve been in this sport long enough to know how to deal with the stress,” He urges, reaching for the younger man’s wrist, “Come sit here and we’ll watch a film or something,” 

Charles pushes him off on a glare, “Fine. if you won’t tell me about what’s going on with you two then I won’t tell you what’s going on with me,” 

“Charles,” Sebastian warns, “That’s completely different. When you struggle with things you end up having a break down or hurting yourself,” He retorts bitterly, regretting it when his boyfriend’s face drops, “I’m sorry, that was harsh. I didn’t mean that, sweetheart. I just mean Lewis and I know how to handle this stuff, you still need some help. We are trying to protect you,” 

Charles snorts, “I don’t need you to protect me! I won’t break, Seb! I want to be there for you. You’re always there for me. Let me help you,” 

Lewis sighs and looks over at Sebastian already knowing their boyfriend isn’t going to let this go. They don’t have any plans today and from the look of determination on the younger man’s face he’s prepared to sit there all day. 

“It’s just a tough year, Charlie. The cars aren’t performing in the way we want them to and it’s making the season less enjoyable,” 

“And how does that make you feel?” Charles questions sounding uncharacteristically authoritative, which obviously isn’t missed by the older men who smirk at him. 

“Are you going to charge us for this at the end? It’s sounding an awful lot like some kind of therapy session,” Sebastian jokes, grinning at the scowl Charles shoots at him. 

“This isn’t a joke, Seb! I’m trying to be there for you! Why don’t you ever take me seriously?” 

Sebastian smiles, “I’m sorry, Charlie, I don’t want to upset you,” He grabs Charles by the wrist and tugs him onto the sofa, “Come here, I at least want you in my arms if I’m going to put all of this on you,” He quips, wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him into his side. 

“Tell me then. How are you feeling about everything?” Charles badgers, eyeing his boyfriend. 

Sebastian huffs out a breath, resting his cheek on the younger man’s hair, “It’s hard, Charlie. I mean, it’s probably harder for Lewis because he’s used to being in a winning car, but it’s still difficult for me. Sometimes it just doesn’t feel worth it anymore,” 

Lewis reaches a hand over to rest on the German’s thigh, “Seb, it’s just as hard for you as it is for me. My wins might have been more recent but we are still in the same situation. We are both struggling to get the car anywhere near the podium,” 

“And that makes things harder because you both know that if you had the right car you could be winning,” Charles observes, looking between them. 

“Yeah, Charlie, it makes things harder,” He agrees on a soft smile, “It also makes us wonder if we’ll ever get back to the top,” 

“You will!” Charles argues, “Of course you will. Lewis you’ll be getting your eighth championship next year and Seb you’ll be the reason that Aston Martin finally have a decent car,” 

Sebastian chuckles lowly and cards a hand through his boyfriend’s dark hair, “I wish I had your positivity but I’ve been struggling for a while. Let’s not forget I was kicked out of Ferrari because you were outperforming me,” 

They can talk about it now. It was a sore point for Charles for a long time. He’d blamed himself for Sebastian leaving Ferrari but after the older man had spent months convincing him it wasn’t his fault and there was nothing he could have done, he came to terms with it. 

“Seb,” Charles murmurs, cupping the older man’s cheek and pressing a kiss to his lips, “You still have so much to offer. You taught me everything I know. Don’t give up on yourself, I haven’t given up on you. I never will,” 

In a world trying to make Sebastian feel like a failure, Charles will remind him of his accomplishments, he’ll remind him of the days he fought so hard to be where he is today, he’ll remind him of the nights he couldn’t stop crying but eventually found a way to smile again and he’ll remind him of how far he’s come, how strong he is and how resilient he can be.

“And Lewis!” Charles exclaims, turning away from the German and kissing the Brit, “You’ll get through this year and you’ll probably even end up winning a few races if I let you,” He winks on a grin, “And then next year you’ll be back at the top fighting for the championship,” 

“You don’t know that, Charles, this might be it for me,” 

Charles looks at him as he’s crazy, as if he just grew another head. 

“Of course I know that! I know it because I know you two! You’re legends! George, Alex, Pierre, Lando and me, we used to be in awe of you! We used to watch your races on the TV and dream of being as good as you! We still do!” 

Lewis snorts on a soft smile, ruffling the younger man’s hair, “Thank you for the reminder that we used to be racing when you were a kid. That doesn’t make me feel old at all,”

Charles frowns, “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant you two are still the best drivers on the grid even if you don’t have the car to prove it,” 

“Oh yeah? You really think that? You think we are better than you?” Lewis teases, poking him in the side. 

Charles stares at him and nods, his voice serious, “I do think that, Lewis, I really do. I don’t want you to forget it. I’ll always be here to remind you how good you are,” 

Lewis smiles because Charles is so sincere and he knows that the younger man genuinely believes what he’s saying. He’s always held them in such high regard. 

We all secretly crave someone to follow our path of humanness not with a tool kit made for fixing but with the biggest basket they can find carrying love and support, and affirmation and willingness.

And no matter how much you wish they wouldn’t bother to struggle with their heaviness, they look to you with their ever adoring eyes and manage to say; look at the weight of how dear you are to me and how exceptional is it that I get to carry it.

He knows that Charles will always be there shouting words of encouragement and holding him close when it feels too much. 

“Thank you, Charlie. Thank you for always believing in us,” Lewis murmurs, cupping his cheek and caressing his thumb across the pale skin. 

Charles smiles, and reaches out to grab each of their hand’s, “I know I can’t fix your cars but I’ll always listen and I’ll always be both of yours biggest fan,” 

Charles is at his best when he’s loving Lewis and Sebastian. It’s what he was born to do after all. 

“Promise us that you’ll always stay, Charles. That you’ll stay even if things seem hard,” Sebastian whispers, clutching his hand so tight that it could cut off the circulation. 

Charles doesn’t like promises. Promises, he’s learned, are not things of substance. They are not these shiny guarantees we’ve convinced ourselves they are. They are flowery words, glittery ideas, hopes stenciled on notebooks and blank pages that we cling to when things start to feel bleak. They sound pretty, something to put atop a melodic tune, a lullaby. 

So he will not promise them much. He won’t shout forevers from rooftops. He won’t claim to love them through everything and never second guess where they’re going. And he won’t ask for perfection from them. He doesn’t want their promises either. He just wants their, “I tried” and “I’m doing my best.” They can figure out the rest.

He does promise to love them with his failures. Take his cracked pieces. Here are all his moments he came so close to getting something and it fell apart. Take them all. Hold them in your heart because he trusts them. 

He wants them to see him at his worst. He wants to know they will still love him at his darkest. Because he loves them without the lights on. He loves them when he is blinded.

“I’ll always stay, Seb. I’ll stay through the good and the bad,”

Charles doesn’t like to make promises but that’s one he knows he’ll never break. 

Chapter Text

Sebastian watches Charles over the table regurgitating the story of his win and how it felt. The excitement in his voice is enough to make him smile. 

He remembers feeling like that - completely consumed by racing. Charles lives for it and thrives on it. Sebastian remembers being like that. He remembers not being able to consider doing anything else other than getting in the car on a Sunday and speeding around whatever track they were on. 

Time has passed though and he’s not the same twenty something he was when he was in his prime. The feeling when he’s in the car on the track doesn’t send electric shocks through his body in the same way anymore. 

The love he has for the sport is only overshadowed by the love for the people in his life. It’s not enough to keep him there anymore though. The memories he’s made will stay with him but he can’t let them hold him back. It’s best not to look back but instead to focus on the future. 

Formula 1 is changing and not in a way he likes. There’s new rules that seem to change every week and seem to only impact certain teams. 

Every race that went by, he felt less excited for it. His heart is no longer in it. He’s done it too many times now and the car isn’t as competitive.

It’s the young man across the table fighting for the wins now. It’s Charles that will be the future of Formula 1. 

Sebastian might be remembered for his achievements and his name might still be whispered around the paddock from time to time. 

He is ready for a new beginning though, ready to leave this part of his life behind even if it feels like a part of him will always belong on the track. 

“I need to talk to you both about something,” Sebastian announces flicking his eyes between his boyfriend’s at the dinner table, their meals placed in front of them. 

Charles, who had already started digging in to his spaghetti, drops his fork and looks at him in a panic. “Oh God, you’re sick aren’t you? I thought you’d been moving around slower recently. What is it? Is it serious?” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes, as much as he wants to call out Charles for that comment, he needs to stay focussed. He makes a mental note to show Charles that he is not in anyway slower later. 

“No, I’m not sick, Charles. I won’t forget you saying I’m getting slower either,” He warns on narrowed eyes, before composing himself, “I’m retiring at the end of the season,” 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth he feels immediately lighter. He looks between Lewis and Charles gauging their reactions. 

“It’s time?” Lewis asks knowingly on a soft smile, reaching over to grasp his hand. 

It’ll be hard to imagine Formula 1 without Sebastian. For as long as they’ve known each other Sebastian was one of the only people that managed to make the sport feel less lonely - and it could be lonely, the constant travelling, no time for anyone else. 

Sebastian had always been there though and he’d supported him through everything. They grew up together; from kids in their twenties with nothing but hopes and dreams to the men they are today who know there are more important things than being on the track. 

The paddock will feel empty without Sebastian Vettel, the man had become almost a permanent fixture. He was reassuring words to the younger drivers. He was a portal to the memories of better times for the older drivers. 

Lewis can understand that Sebastian is ready to move on. He’s seen him lose the spark over the past couple of years. He knows his boyfriend will go on to better things. He’ll go on to make a difference. 

Sebastian meets his eyes across and he’s overwhelmed by the love in them. 

“It’s time,” Sebastian confirms, smiling when Lewis presses a kiss to his hand. 

“I’m really proud of you, Seb. I love you,” 

Their love is the kind of love where no words need to be said. The kind where communication is in abundance, where communication is through their eyes. Their touches tell each other all they need to know. Their communication is easy, it’s second nature. 

“I love you too, Lewis,” He replies, looking over at Charles and feeling the dread in his body at the look of pure devastation on the younger man’s face. 

He knew this would always be easier for Lewis to accept. The oldest man planned to retire next year too so he understands how it feels not to be invested in racing the same way anymore. 

“Charlie,” Sebastian murmurs, reaching for his hand, “I know you’re going to find this hard but nothing is going to change,” 

Charles stares at Sebastian, waiting for him to grin and say it’s a joke. He doesn’t though and Charles’ stomach drops. 

The walls start to close in and it feels like the story is over and he can’t imagine writing another chapter. It feels like his stomach is hollow and he’s waiting for a sudden onset of sadness to fill the gaps. 

His body has already decided how to react, the hollowing and sinking motions. His brain hasn’t caught up yet though. It feels like his body is doing overtime but his brain is moving in slow motion. 

Sebastian is leaving F1 - slowly the words seep through his brain and he realises his body’s reaction was right. 

The world as he knows it is ending. 

Charles shakes his head vehemently, “You can’t retire Seb! Not yet! I still need you!” 

“You’ll always have me, Charles, I promise. I just won’t be at the track with you every weekend. I’ll still be here and if I’m ever not with you then you can ring me. I’ll always answer, sweetheart,” 

Charles drops his head into his hands, “It won’t be the same,” 

“You’ll still have Lewis with you next year,” Sebastian comments hopefully, anything to get the distraught look off the younger man’s face. 

Charles looks up with a roll of the eyes, “Yeah for a year and then he’ll retire,” 

Lewis sighs and leans back in his chair, half smiling, “It was always going to be this way, Charles. We were always going to retire long before you,”

Charles knows that. It was always going to be that way, but right now when it feels like Lewis and Sebastian are the only thing that make the dark days seem doable. He wonders if it’s worth it. 

Is it worth it to give them his everything when they will be leaving him to fend for himself, alone. In a sport that thrives on knocking him down for his mistakes. A sport that will hand out compliments as if they’re rare jewels but criticism as if it’s a common stone. 

“I never should have let myself fall in love with either of you. This is never going to work,” He spits, and he’s not sure if he means it, but he knows everything is changing. 

And he doesn’t like change. After years of discomfort he’d found a space in Lewis and Sebastian’s arms that felt like home, only for it to be ripped away. 

“Charles,” Sebastian sighs, “Don’t be like this. This is a bigger deal to me than it is to you. You’re being very selfish,” 

“Selfish?” Charles scoffs, “This won’t only affect you, Seb! What will I do without you? You say you’ll always be there but how am I supposed to believe that?” 

“I know it’s going to affect you too, Charles, and I don’t expect you to understand why I need to retire. I do expect you to be supportive though,” 

“Well I’m not!” Charles barks, “I think you’re running away because you haven’t had a win in a while. You can win again though, Seb, you just have to keep racing,” 

Sebastian shakes his head on a half smile, “You really don’t understand, Charlie. I don’t want to wait around for another win. I want to move onto something else. Racing isn’t everything anymore,” 

Sometimes it feels like we were all falsely promised what growing old meant. They must have skipped past all the pain, hurt, and responsibilities. Only to jump straight to the bit of endless opportunities. 

No one ever told him that one day he would be sitting at his dinner table announcing his retirement to the people he would sacrifice everything for, and that one of those people would look like their whole world has shattered. 

No one ever told him that one day he would close a chapter of his life without knowing how the story ends.

“I think that’s stupid, Sebastian. You have been racing your entire life. It’s in your blood. How can you just turn your back on it?” Charles snaps, not having the courage to add and on me. 

“Charles,” Lewis warns, shooting his boyfriend a heated glare, “Stop it. You know how hard a decision this must have been for Seb so stop trying to make him feel bad about it,” 

It takes Charles all he has not to crumble. Days fall away from his pores and he no longer knows the difference between a summer moon and a winter sun. He’ll lie in the wreckage and make mountains out of the parts that are growing and hope tomorrow will feel like a battle he can fight.

He is being unfair. He is being selfish. Charles can’t ever imagine feeling like he wants to retire but he knows it can’t be a very comforting feeling. It’s the same with every athlete, you give everything to the sport you love and then eventually you’ll have to step into the unknown; your life after the sport. 

He doesn’t want Sebastian to feel alone. The man had never let him feel like that so how could he ever do that?

“I‘m sorry, Seb,” He whispers, raising his eyes to meet the German’s, “I just can’t imagine you not being around the paddock. I do support you even if I don’t understand it,” 

“You’ll understand it one day, Charles,” Sebastian murmurs, “Probably in about ten years. You’ll say to me I think I want to retire and I’ll tell you that it’s only you that can make that decision. It’s only me that can make this decision, sweetheart, and I’ve already made it,” 

He used to beg Charles not to shut him out, to lower his guard. He wanted him to be open and vulnerable like they were with him. 

Sebastian pleaded to see the sides of him that no one else got to see, the parts of him that are beautifully complex. He wanted to see them so he could love them anyway and so he could kiss his insecurities, and make all the doubts go away. 

He wanted to see Charles’ weaknesses so he could embrace them; his flaws and imperfections because he wanted it all. 

It took some time but Charles gave him his everything. He opened himself up knowing he could end up damaged beyond repair. 

And Sebastian looks at him now and he knows he needs to be the one to comfort him. He needs to be the one that promises him nothing has changed and that he will love him until the end of days. 

“Are you sure it’s time, Seb?” 

“Yes, Charles. It’s time. I promise you though nothing will change between us. I will always still be here for you and if anything it’ll make me love you more because I’ll miss you,” 

“I just want you to be happy, Seb,” Charles promises, reaching for the older man’s hand, “Will you be happy?” 

“I’m already happy, Charlie. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with you and Lewis. I just want to move onto something new now, but I will always want you and Lewis by my side,” 

Charles locks eyes with Lewis over the table and when the older man smiles reassuringly, he knows they’ll be okay. “We’ll always be here, Seb,” 

Sometimes he wonders what life would be like if they had never met, if they had never collided in this universe, or learned what the curve of each other’s faces felt like. Who would he be if he had never held their hand? Who would he be if he had never felt their love? 

It’s okay to choose to need someone. When nothing in this world makes sense, their existence does. Sometimes their presence in his world is the only thing that makes sense. 

“Eat your dinner, Charlie,” Lewis orders gently when the younger man continues to stare off into space. 

Sebastian gives Charles a smile and arches an eyebrow at him until the younger man picks up his fork and starts to dig into his spaghetti. 

“I also need both your help with something,” He murmurs, looking between their concerned eyes and knowing as soon as he says it they will be shining with mischief, “I want to make an instagram account,” 

Lewis snorts, “An Instagram account? I thought you hated social media? What is it you always say? The world was a better place before technology,” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “I know what I said but now I won’t be in F1 next year I want a way to get important messages across to people. I also want to announce my retirement to my fans directly not through the media,” 

Lewis smiles because that really does sum Sebastian up. He’s got an incredible heart, one that he will use to make a difference. “That’s a good idea, Seb. We’ll help you set it up after dinner. It’s easy,” 

“Do you even know what Instagram is?” Charles teases, grinning at the glare the older man shoots his way. 

“Shut it, Charlie. I still haven’t forgotten that you said I was getting slower earlier, so don’t push your luck,” 

Lewis chuckles and raises an eyebrow, “You’ll be able to see all the thirst traps Ferrari post of Charles. They really do use his face and body as a way of distracting the fans from their strategy fuck ups,” 

Charles shrugs his shoulders, “If you’ve got it flaunt it. I like doing them, we need to give the people what they want,” 

“Your arrogance has no bounds,” Sebastian comments dryly, before smirking slightly, “I definitely won’t miss having to watch nearly everyone in the paddock fawn all over you,” 

“No need to be jealous, Seb. I’ll always come home to you,” Charles retorts on a wink. 

He really will too. 
_______________________________________________

It never really bothered him before that the only thing he really has in common with Lewis and Sebastian is racing. It didn’t change how they felt about each other. 

That was until he realised that Lewis and Sebastian do have a lot in common. They share articles with each other, they watch the same TV, they have conversations about things that Charles can’t follow. 

Sometimes it felt like they wouldn’t even notice if he wasn’t there. Right now is the perfect example of that; they’re sitting on the sofa watching a documentary and animatedly discussing it. 

He didn’t tend to watch the kind of documentaries they like with them. He’d tried to but he’d asked too many questions and the older men had become increasingly annoyed with him. From then on he’d decided that he’d just leave them to it and go on his computer whenever they watched those kind of things.

Watching them now from the door way, he can’t help but feel they wouldn’t realise if he wasn’t around.

Sebastian must be able to sense he’s there because he pauses mid conversation and turns around on the sofa to look at him with a raised eyebrow, “What are you doing lurking around back there, Charlie?” 

“Nothing,” Charles shrugs his shoulders on a sheepish smile, feeling awfully like he’s been caught out and has walked in on something intimate. When in reality it’s just his boyfriends watching TV. 

Lewis moves over on the sofa so there’s a gap between them and gestures, “Come and sit down. You might like this,” He points at the TV. 

Charles is pretty sure he won’t like it but he doesn’t want them to start probing him so he shuffles into the room, taking a seat on the other sofa, and ignoring the arched eyebrows of his boyfriends. 

Sebastian pauses the documentary and looks over at him with narrowed eyes, “What’s up, Charlie?”

I’m questioning our entire relationship, is what he thinks, “Nothing, I’m fine,” is what he says. 

It’s obvious from the look on the older man’s face that he doesn’t believe him but he just sighs and presses play, shooting him one final look before turning his attention back to the TV. 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to him that Lewis and Sebastian would have more in common with each other than they do him. They’re a similar age, they’ve known each other a lot longer, and they’ve spent the last 15 years in F1 together. 

It’s not a surprise but it doesn’t make it any easier for him. Charles has always worried that one day Lewis and Sebastian would decide they don’t need him anymore - that they’ll realise the only thing he was good for was bringing them together. 

He needs them though. He needs them more than he needs anyone; they’re his steady support, they’re his comfort, they’re his whole heart. 

Charles flicks questioning eyes to Lewis when he hears his name and from the look on the older man’s face it wasn’t the first time he’d said it. 

“What’s wrong, Charles?” 

Charles opens his mouth to tell him there’s nothing wrong but Lewis points a finger at him, “If you say nothing then I’m going to have force to it out of you and I know you won’t that,” 

The taunting look in his boyfriend’s eyes makes him subconsciously move his arms to shield his stomach and sides. “There’s nothing wrong, really,” He forces a smile. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “Come and sit here,” He orders, tapping the empty space between them. 

“I’m okay sitting here,” 

“Charles,” Sebastian warns, “Come here,” 

It’s Charles’ turn to roll his eyes but he begrudgingly obliges and moves over to sit between them, feeling slightly better when their arms wrap around him. 

“What’s up, sweetheart? You don’t seem like yourself,” Lewis asks, carding a hand through his hair. 

Charles looks between them debating whether he should just tell them what’s bothering him, knowing they’d immediately soothe his worries, but knowing just as well he’d end up feeling stupid. 

“I’m fine,” Another lie and going by the unimpressed looks on the older men’s faces it’s not what they wanted to hear. 

Lewis sighs on a smirk, “Well you leave us no choice then,” He retorts nonchalantly, resting his fingers on Charles abdomen and grinning when Sebastian pins Charles’ arms down at his side. 

Charles eyes’ widen, “Wait! I’ll tell you…but it’s stupid,” He mumbles.  

Sebastian loosens his grip slightly and caresses the younger man’s wrist with his thumb, “It won’t be stupid, Charles. Your feelings aren’t stupid. What’s bothering you?”

He sighs and closes his eyes, opening them to find his boyfriends warm ones looking back at him, “You two have a lot in common,” 

Lewis’ eyebrows furrow, “We do,” He agrees hesitantly, “Does that bother you?” 

“No!” Charles exclaims, before lowering his voice again, “No, of course it doesn’t. It just feels like you two have a lot in common with each other but not with me,” 

He assesses the younger man desperately trying to understand how Charles still can’t know what he means to them. 

How he can’t understand that they live for his laughs, his joy. 

The way Charles walks is his favourite walk. The way he moves his hands is his favourite way that anyone, in the history of the world has ever moved their hands. 

When they are in bed together the rest of the world is fiction. Nothing outside is real until Charles says so. 

“Well we are quite a lot older than you, Charlie, and we are at completely different stages in our careers so it’s understandable that we wouldn’t have as much in common. That doesn’t matter though, it doesn’t change how we feel about each other,” 

“I guess you’re right,” Charles murmurs. It’s the reply he was expecting but it hasn’t stopped the thoughts in his head. The worries that Lewis and Sebastian would leave him. 

Sebastian cups his cheek and angles his face to look at him properly, “Lewis is right, Charles. None of that stuff matters.  What else is it, sweetheart?” 

Charles should be used to the older men being able to read him like their favourite book by now. It’s almost impossible for him to keep anything from them because it’s like they can just look at him and know there’s something wrong. 

They’ve always been able to see through his media smile or his vague answers. It’s both a blessing and a curse. 

He looks down at his hands on his lap and twiddles his fingers, “What if one day you two decide that you don’t need me anymore?” 

When neither of them reply straight away Charles looks up with panicked eyes, ready for them to break up with him. 

Sebastian and Lewis are staring at him with narrowed eyes, and the intensity in their gazes makes him feel almost uncomfortable. 

Charles is so blind. He’s so oblivious to the fact that Sebastian is his without asking. He is reserved for him and Lewis. His heart physically beats for them. Sebastian only hopes a little part of Charles realises how much he matters to him, and how important he is to him. 

“Honestly, Charles,” Sebastian sighs, tangling his fingers in the younger man’s ruffled hair, “Sometimes I don’t know how you come up with this stuff. You really need to try and stay out of your head so much, sweetheart. We will always need you. This relationship wouldn’t work without you. We’d probably get bored. We love you,” 

Charles wants to believe it. He wants to believe it so badly. But it’s the fear. The fear that they will eventually love each other more is constantly screaming in his ears. To him, to the nagging voices of insecurity there will always be someone better. 

It’s a reflex at this point. Anticipating and waiting for the people he loves to leave him. He hates that he expects it but it’s a coping mechanism tangled in with all the losses he’s suffered that have left him unable to dream for anymore. He just hopes that Lewis and Sebastian will prove him wrong. 

“You need me?” 

He’s still not sure who he’s supposed to be by now. His whole life has been full speed down a highway with no exits, trying to find a path with no dead ends. 

He wants to know he didn’t leave burn marks on the lives he’s touched, and that he didn’t waste time trying to leave a footprint running after his dream. 

He wants everyone to know that he tried, and that his existence wasn’t unnoticed. That his purpose in the universe wasn’t just to be another person who was forgotten in the midst of it all. 

Lewis rolls his eyes fondly and presses a kiss to his cheek, letting his lips rest on the warm skin, “We need you, Charlie. We’ll need you forever so stop thinking that we don’t. Sometimes it feels like you’re the only thing keeping us afloat,” 

They need Charles like we need oxygen to breathe. 

They need Charles like an addict needs drugs. 

They need Charles like a priest needs religion. 

Lewis doesn’t believe in God but to whoever or whatever meant he got to hold Charles in his arms, he’ll be forever thankful. 

“Are you feeling better now, sweetheart? You’re not still thinking all these crazy things?” Sebastian asks on a half smile, pausing the hand in the younger man’s hair and pulling his head back to look him in the eye. 

“You love me and you need me,” Charles whispers, and he thinks that maybe if he reminds himself of that everyday then eventually he’ll truly believe it.

“Always,” Sebastian confirms on a beam, “Now, are you going to watch this with us? It’s really interesting. We’ll put it on from the start,” He asks, grabbing the remote off the table and pointing it at the TV.

“You two always get annoyed at me when I ask questions though. I’m not clever like either of you, I don’t understand the science stuff,” Charles admits quietly, ducking his head. 

“We don’t get annoyed at you when you ask questions, Charles. We do get annoyed when you talk through the entire thing though,” Lewis retorts on narrowed eyes, “And you’re clever. You know we don’t like when you say things like that. You’re better at other things,” 

Charles pouts but nods his head and snuggles between them, smiling when Sebastian starts the documentary from the beginning. 

One of his favourite parts about loving Lewis and Sebastian is watching himself turn into the person he has always wanted to be. 
_______________________________________________

Charles has suffered death in his life. He’s suffered grief. They rearranged him on an almost molecular level. They have stayed with him and he has found he’s unable to let them go for even a moment. 

When the date is approaching things start to feel heavier. When the date arrives it’s as if the sun has gone and there’s no light in the day. Charles suspects it will always feel like that. 

People used to tell him it gets easier. When he was 17 and watching his God Father’s casket being lowered after a year of him already being dead - people told him it’d get easier. 

They were wrong. It has never gotten easier. He still carries Jules with him, in every race, in every laugh, in all his pain. It doesn’t get easier. At most it fades around the edges, and the burning becomes an ache that remains there everyday. 

Charles is tired and much has changed since the last time he spoke to Jules but he will let the ache stay because it reminds him of the man he owes so much to. 

If his grief is proof that Jules existed then how does he ever let himself stop feeling it? This grief is all he has left of his God Father so yes he will keep holding on to it. Grief is love with no place to go. 

Grief is an awakening of sorts. It’s an awakening of all the things he took for granted; the way Jules would call him after every race, the way Jules would be so patient with him when he was just a small boy in a kart, the way Jules was always so certain that one day he would be a champion. 

It’s an awakening of all things he lacks and all things he’ll have to grow in Jules’ absence. When he lost Jules, he lost himself too. 

He can still picture his face, every indent and dimple. He can still feel the warmth of his skin pressing against his cheek when he hugged him. He can still hear Jules’ voice in his head when he’s winning a race or when he’s making a mistake. Charles only hopes he’ll always remember.

Sometimes it scares him that the memories of Jules’ laugh have become slightly faded over time. It scares him because he doesn’t ever want to forget him. 

He knows he won’t. They have too many beautiful memories together. No one could forget such key components of a beautiful soul. So, even if the sound of his laugh begins to fade then Charles will always remember the loving touch of his heart and the light that shined out of his smile. That will stay with him forever. 

“Are you doing alright, sweetheart?” Sebastian asks over the table, sipping at his pint. 

Charles nods, even though he’s not really doing alright. It’s not a pain anyone can take away though so it’s easier to pretend he’s fine. 

“If you need to talk about it you can, Charlie. We’ll always listen. We miss Jules too,” Lewis assures him on a soft smile. 

It almost makes Charles angry because they don’t miss Jules like he misses him. Lewis and Sebastian knew Jules as a race driver, they didn’t know him in all the ways Charles knew him. 

Grief can do that though, it can make you selfish. As if other people aren’t deserving to feel the pain because you’re certain you should get to feel it more. 

“I think we should wait for Daniel,” He murmurs back, swirling the glass of whiskey coke in his hands. 

From the moment Charles had been old enough to drink he and Daniel had gone out together on the anniversary of Jules’ death. It felt nice to have someone to share the pain with. 

“Hey mate, sorry I’m running late. I had a call,” An Australian accent interrupts his thoughts and he looks up to see Daniel standing at the edge of the table. 

Without even thinking about it Charles leaps up and throws himself into the older man’s arms, as if hugging him tight enough could make the whole day go away. 

Daniel wraps him up in his arms tightly, “Seven years, I can’t believe it,” He murmurs into Charles’ hair. 

They pull apart and Charles takes his seat again, pushing the drink he’d bought for Daniel in front of the empty seat next to him. 

If someone had asked him to describe the way he felt when he lost Jules, he’s not entirely sure he could put those emotions into words. There are no collection of syllables that could represent the darkness that his brain constantly waded through.

It was the kind of darkness that the light at the end of the tunnel seemed like a joke, it seemed totally unreachable. It was the kind of darkness that he wondered how long he could stomach it. 

No matter how many tears he shed he still felt weighed down. His body had been on defence mode but his mind had been frozen. 

No one had ever told him that pain could feel like that. That it would be sharper than a knife slicing through his back and into his chest, opening his heart up so his emotions spill out at a higher velocity than when rivers flow. He didn’t know that he could become so broken to a point that mending himself didn’t seem like a possibility. It was that moment that changed him forever. 

The only glimpse of a better tomorrow was the knowledge that he was not the only one suffering - that there were other people struggling to come to terms with the loss of someone so important. 

Daniel was one of those people. Charles remembers meeting Daniel for the first time. He had been barely teenager at the time, long before F1. Jules had introduced them and Charles was in awe of the both of them. He wanted nothing more than to be exactly like them when he was older. 

Jules had promised him that when he made it into F1 that he would be there to support him, that he would hold him up when things felt heavy, and let him go when he felt free. They never got the chance to experience it together but he did get to have it with Daniel. 

Charles has lots of friends, and he has people that he cares about. His relationship with Daniel is different though - it’s a friendship built on their shared love of someone that is no longer here. It’s the memories that live on through them. 

Jules wasn’t there when Charles got into F1 but Daniel was and he’s always supported him in a way that he knows Jules will be looking down at with nothing but pride. They carry the weight of Jules’ potential between them and do everything they can to bring him the recognition he deserves. 

Daniel greets Lewis and Sebastian before turning back to him and squeezing his shoulder, “How are you doing, kid? And I know it’s a stupid question but I just need to know you’re coping. I promised him I’d look out for you,” 

Charles gives him a watery smile. There’s no need to hide the pain with Daniel. They’re both feeling it. 

“I was hoping it’d be easier by now,” He confesses, “It still hurts though,” 

“It’ll always hurt, kiddo. But the fact it hurts means we won’t forget, and Jules should never be forgotten,” 

Charles nods and stares down at the drink in his hand, “You know sometimes I’m jealous of you three because you got to see Jules in a way I rarely did. You got to see him as a race driver up close. I had to watch it on TV most of the time,” 

Lewis rests his hand over the younger man’s across the table, “Jules was an incredible race driver, Charlie. He would have been a champion if he had the time, I’ve no doubt about that,”

Sebastian nods on a smile, “I didn’t know Jules too well but when I was your teammate I saw him in you everyday. In the way you carried yourself around the garage, in the way you spoke with the engineers. He passed on a lot to you, sweetheart,” 

“I think he made me into the race driver I am today and then his death gave me the strength to always want to be better. I just want him to be proud of me,” Charles whispers, blinking back a tear that’s threatening to fall. 

Lewis doesn’t always like that Charles so wholeheartedly believes it was the trauma that shaped him into the person he is. That it carved him into this undeniably strong and beautiful soul. 

Because Charles didn’t deserve to go through it. He would have been just as kind, just as caring, empathetic and compassionate, if he went through the hard times or not. 

Charles was a beautiful person before it, before the days that haunt his memories. He doesn’t like when Charles says it’s made him who he is because it implies it needed to happen, almost that he deserved to feel that pain. 

And he didn’t. Charles is strong and brave and that’s demonstrated everyday when he pushes through the hard moments, the times he didn’t see a way out. 

But those moments didn’t alter Charles’ character. He was kind, caring, brave, and strong before it all. 

“You’ve always been strong, Charlie. Jules thought the absolute world of you. He used to tell people about you and how one day you’d be racing against us all and we wouldn’t be able to keep up. He was so proud of you and he will be now,” 

Charles meets Lewis’ eyes across the table and knows trying to stop the tears is pointless, “He really said that?” 

Daniel snorts from beside him, “Kid, he thought you were amazing! He literally never shut up about you!” 

“I really miss him, Daniel,” Charles chokes, scrubbing at his eyes. 

Daniel sighs and pulls him into his side, “I do too, Charles. He’s still with us though and I know he’s proud of us. You can always come to me. I’m always going to have your back, kid. I’d never let him down like that,” 

The Australian turns a faux glare to the older men across the table, “You two should remember that. If you ever hurt this kid then the years we’ve been friends won’t matter. I’ll always protect him,” 

Sebastian smiles and looks at Charles curled into the man’s side. Even though he knows him and Lewis would never hurt their boyfriend, it’s still reassuring to know the younger man has people in his corner. Charles has a lot of people who love him and sometimes it feels like he forgets that. 

“We’d never hurt him but I’m glad he’s got you,” 

Charles pulls out of the older man’s hold and looks up at him with a small smile, “He’d be really proud of you, Daniel. You were one of his best friends and he’d be glad to see that you’re not giving up,” 

“Don’t make me cry, mate,” Daniel warns half heartedly, “I’ve already cried once today thinking about him,” 

Charles understands that. He’s already cried a few times today too.  

“Thank you though, kid. I might not have Jules anymore but I’m glad I’ve got you,” Daniel admits, ruffling his hair. 

The reality of dealing with grief is that he will never be the person he was when Jules was alive but even that brings him peace. It’s knowing that a part of him died with Jules and so that means a part of him is still with Jules. 

Chapter Text

Sebastian doesn’t even look back once he’s out of the car. 

Even though he knows Charles will be getting out of his own and probably looking at him with his puppy dog eyes, already wording his apology speech in his head. It’ll be the same vague lines he spewed when they crashed in 2020; I thought I could go for the gap. I lost the car as I was turning in. 

Back then Sebastian had been able to forgive him quickly. Charles was still barely a rookie.

It’s happened too many times now though, and Charles has the experience to know better. 

It could be the complete opposite though, and if Sebastian is being honest with himself he suspects it’ll be the opposite. Charles is most likely glaring at the back of his head, the insolence flicking in his green orbs, as the rage bubbles in him. 

They’ll hurl heated insults at each other and Sebastian will have flashbacks to the two times it has happened that way before. He almost wonders if he should be concerned that Charles has managed to crash into him this many times now. 

The crash was Charles’ fault and there’s no way the younger man can argue it wasn’t this time. Sebastian won’t put it past Charles to try and blame him though. 

He doesn’t have the energy to look into Charles’ emerald eyes and yell at him; yell all the things that are running through his head. 

I could have been on the podium for the first time in a year! 

How many more times are you going to crash into me before you learn?

I can’t remember the last time I was this angry at you! 

He doesn’t have the energy to shout at Charles because the younger man will look at him in the same way he always does and he’ll fall into the trap of those eyes. The eyes that have a way of making him forget why he’s even angry in the first place. 

No, right now he’s angry at Charles. He’s angry enough that he doesn’t want to see him. 

The team are sympathetic and cursing Charles’ name. Normally he’d defend his boyfriend but everything they’re saying is true and so he takes some comfort in knowing Charles won’t get away with it this time. There’s a penalty coming his way and he deserves it. 

The last place he wants to be right now is the media pen. There’s nothing worse than having to answer questions about a race that you didn’t even end up finishing. 

Lewis grabs his arm before he can sneak off, “Have you seen Charles?” 

Even hearing his boyfriend’s name is enough to quicken the rage surging through his veins. There’s no way he can see Charles right now. He’d only end up saying things he’ll later regret. 

“No, he’ll be around here though with his pretty face and probably blaming the crash on me,” He retorts bitterly. 

“He’s not here,” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes and looks around the media pen, feeling the fear creep in when he realises Lewis is right - Charles isn’t here. 

The only red around is Carlos. 

He walks over to him, waiting as patiently as he can whilst Carlos finishes his interview. The Spaniard turns to him on a frown when he’s done. 

“I’m going to go and see Charles soon. I thought you’d already be there,” 

The words register in is head but he has no idea what they mean. He has no idea where he should be. 

“What do you mean? Where’s Charles?” The questions come out in panicked shouts and he lowers his head when reporters turn inquisitive eyes to them. 

“He’s in the hospital,” Carlos replies slowly, leaning in closer to avoid the microphones, “You didn’t know?”

The panic sets in. The guilt rises in his throat and he can taste the familiar metallic feeling of fear. Everything feels so loud and it becomes hard to breathe. He closes his eyes briefly and he’s encased by fear. He’d left Charles when he was hurt - when he needed him most. 

“No I didn’t! Why did no one tell me?” 

Carlos shrugs his shoulders, “He crashed into you, they probably didn’t think you’d want to know,” 

He doesn’t need to hear anymore. There’s only one place he should be right now. 

Sebastian drags Lewis off to the side whilst he’s in the middle of an interview. He shoots an apologetic smile at the reporter but doesn’t give an explanation. 

Lewis opens his mouth to say something but Sebastian speaks first, practically shouting in his face, “Charles is in the hospital,” 

Lewis’ eyes widen and without any words between them, they’re rushing off to the car park. 

Luckily the doctors and nurses talk English and within a few minutes they’ve been given directions to a private room. 

“I had no idea he was hurt,” Sebastian gripes, “If I knew he was hurt then I would’ve stayed with him,” 

The guilt is eating away at him. It takes a break in its chewing only to whisper in his ear that Charles could have died and he had walked away. He’d turned his back on someone he always swore he never would. His mind feels cloudy and his shoulders heavy. 

Lewis wraps an arm around him when they get to the right door, “I know, Seb. But you had no way of knowing. You were angry. The doctor said it’s just a concussion. He’ll be fine,” 

Sebastian nods absentmindedly not believing the words. He should have checked on Charles. Why didn’t he check on him? How had he let his anger get the better of him. 

He follows his boyfriend into the room and is at least relieved to see Charles looks perfectly fine. There’s no visible damage. The guilt still hangs over him though and he finds himself unable to even look at the younger man. 

“Oh Charlie,” Lewis murmurs, walking over to the hospital bed and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

Sebastian leans back up against the wall watching them from a safe distance. He feels like he doesn’t trust himself to touch Charles - like he could only do more damage. 

No one could ever understand the extent he would go just to protect Charles, from anything and anyone. He’d reach to the deepest depths and do unspeakable things if it meant protecting him. 

There’s a part of him always coiled, ready to strike, reading the room and listening, watching, in case anyone would dare to hurt someone he loves so dearly. 

He would die to protect him but today he failed. He let his anger get the better of him. He’ll never do it again. 

Charles gives Lewis a half smile and runs a hand through his hair, “I’m okay. They’re going to discharge me in a couple of hours,” He informs his boyfriend, before turning hesitant eyes to Sebastian. 

“I’m sorry for crashing into you, Seb. It was my fault, I know that,” 

An apology is the last thing Sebastian wants to hear from his boyfriend right now. He doesn’t deserve an apology. Racing would never come before Charles’ safety. 

He shakes his head and crosses the room, tugging Charles’ body into his chest, and holding him so tightly it’s probably cutting off the younger man’s oxygen, “No, I’m sorry, Charlie. I had no idea that you were hurt. I never would have left you if I knew,” 

Charles pulls back and smiles slightly, “You were angry. It’s okay, I get it. I’m fine anyway, Seb,” 

“It’s not an excuse,” Sebastian argues, shaking his head in disgust at himself, “I would never have forgiven myself if this was any worse,” 

Lewis wraps an arm around him and presses a kiss to his cheek, “Seb, don’t beat yourself up. You had no way of knowing. These things happen,” 

Lewis’ words don’t register in his head because he can’t take his focus off Charles. The beautiful boy that he wakes up to everyday. The light in all his darkest days. 

Everyday he asks the world to take care of Charles; to keep him safe, well, and whole. To remind him that he’s not alone even when he feels it. He hopes the world is watching is over Charles in all the moments he’s unable to. 

“I’m so fucking sorry, Charles,” He cries, wrapping him in his arms again and breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo, “I love you. I love you so much. I hate myself for not making sure you were okay. It should have been the first thing I did,” 

Charles and Lewis are his first priority always. There’s nothing that can ever compete. 

“Seb, it’s fine,” Charles replies on a smile, “I don’t blame you. I’m fine and I just want to forget about it. The race definitely isn’t a highlight for me,” 

Sebastian can feel a tear drop from his eye and he watches it fall onto Charles’ hair. Lewis huffs a laugh and presses a kiss to his curls, “Seb, stop being so dramatic. Everything is fine. Don’t start blaming yourself for this. We are all fine,”

He breathes in a lungful of air and nods slightly. They are okay. Charles is okay. 

“I know, I know. I should have checked though,” Sebastian sighs, narrowing his eyes on the younger man, “How many more heart attacks are you going to give us? At this rate you might as well live in the hospital,” 

Charles rolls his eyes on a fond smile, “Seb, this is only the second time I’ve ended up in the hospital,” 

“The second time this season!” Sebastian accuses on wide eyes, “You really need to be more careful, Charlie. Next time you might not be so lucky,” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t crash into me then,” 

Sebastian’s eyebrows almost touch his hairline as he looks down at the grinning younger man. The guilt he was feeling is rapidly being replaced with annoyance at the cheek of his boyfriend. 

“Don’t test me, Charles. If you weren’t hurt then this evening would have gone very differently. You’re lucky I love you too much to be angry at you right now,” 

“I know it must be hard to love me sometimes, Seb,” Charles whispers, starring at the white wall of the hospital room, “It must be hard when I ruin your races and when we are competing against each other,” 

“Honestly Charles, what are you talking about? Nothing that happens on the track will ever change how much I love you. It might make me want to strangle you sometimes but it’ll never make it hard to love you,” 

Loving Charles isn’t hard. Loving Charles is the easiest thing in the world that he’s ever done. It’s as if he was made to do it. Sebastian’s heart is so full it. He looks at Charles and it’s all he can feel; pure, unconditional love.

“Thank you, Seb,” Charles murmurs, grasping the older man’s hand, “Thank you for sticking by me,” 

It makes Sebastian wants to roll his eyes. As if he has any other choice but to stick by his boyfriend. Now he knows what it’s like to love Charles he’ll never be able to survive without it. 

“Always, Charlie,” 
_______________________________________________

The muttering outside his hotel room door and the numerous failed attempts at using the key to unlock it manage to drag Charles out of what was a reasonably peaceful sleep. 

He’d recognise the low grumblings anywhere, even if they’re slightly harder to make out because there’s an obvious slur to them. 

Lewis and Sebastian had gone out to a bar with Jenson and Daniel -  he’d been invited but he had to attend a sponsor event with Carlos so insisted they have a drink for him instead. 

And by the sounds of it they’d had more than one. 

Charles leaves it for another minute hoping they’ll be able to get the key into the door and unlock it themselves, but when the muttering turns into muffled arguing he drags himself out of the bed. 

As soon as he swings the door open he’s met with the sight of Lewis and Sebastian beaming at him with hazy eyes. 

“Charlie!” Sebastian exclaims, planting a sloppy kiss to his lips which Charles begrudgingly accepts even though it’s soaked half his face. 

He leans his head out the door to ensure they hadn’t woke Mattia before shepherding them both into the suite. 

“Looks like you two had a good night,” He drawls on a smirk, looking them both up and down and taking in the ruffled clothes and sweaty skin. 

Lewis grins and falls down onto the sofa, dragging Charles onto his lap, “We had a great night, man. You should have come,” 

“I had a sponsor event,” Charles reminds his boyfriend, trying to slide off the older man’s lap but giving up when Sebastian sits down next to them and practically collapses over his knees. 

“Why don’t we get into bed? I’m tired,” He suggests, finally breaking free of their hold and looking down at them with an arched eyebrow. 

Sebastian snorts on a drunken grin, “You’re in your twenties, Charlie! Don’t be so boring! This is the prime of your life!” 

Charles sighs, knowing they’re not drunk enough that they’ll be passing out anytime soon but knowing just as well they’re too drunk to want to go to sleep.

It’s not how he planned on spending the night. The comfy bed in the other room is practically screaming his name but the endearing looks on the older men’s faces are tough competition. 

“This better not be the prime of my life,” He mumbles, looking down at the states in front of him on a smirk, and walking across to the mini fridge for some water. 

“What did you say?” 

Charles pulls his head out of the fridge and looks over his shoulder at the narrowed eyes burning into him from his boyfriend, “Nothing, Seb,” He retorts on a grin, grabbing two bottles of water and shoving them in the older men’s laps. “Drink these now,” 

“You’re very bossy, Charlie,” Lewis quips, unscrewing the cap from the bottle and downing half of it. 

Charles arches an eyebrow at Sebastian when the man runs his eyes up and down his body, “We really did good, you know, Lewis. How did we manage to get someone ten years younger than us that looks like this?” He marvels, grasping the waistband of Charles’ boxers to pull him down between them. 

Lewis smiles down at the younger man, pressing wet kisses over his chest, “He is gorgeous. You’re so gorgeous, Charlie,” 

Charles forces a smile and pushes the man’s head away, “That’s very nice of you both but I really think we should get into bed,” 

“Charles,” Sebastian whines, wrapping his arms around the younger man, “We are not tired yet. We want to talk for a bit,” 

Charles rolls his eyes at his 35 year old boyfriend sounding like a child begging their parents to stay up later. 

Really he should force them into the bed anyway and hope they’ll fall asleep, but it’s not too often he gets to see the older men inebriated so the appeal of seeing them make fools of themselves is far too compelling. 

He never feels like he’s wasting time with them anyway. They could sit in silence for hours and it would still feel so full, so good, and so necessary. 

“What do you want to talk about?” He asks, letting them practically manhandle him between them until they’re both snuggling into his side. 

“You,” Lewis replies, stroking his fingers across Charles’ pale skin. 

“Me?” Charles questions hesitantly, looking between them and trying to catch their eyes. 

“We are so proud of you, Charlie,” Sebastian murmurs into his skin, pressing soft kisses to his chest, “You know that right?” 

“I do,” 

“And we love you so much, more than anything in this world. You know that right?” Lewis asks, peeking up at him through dark lashes. 

Charles nods, not entirely sure where this conversation is going but knowing it’s not what he expected from them. The last time he’d seen them drunk they were trying to get him to sing along to some music from the 80s, mocking his age if he didn’t know the words. 

He never believed he’d find true love. His heart had only known ache. He forgot love even existed in isolation without inevitable damage. 

So he was cautious when lending his heart to Lewis and Sebastian to see how they would hold it. He braced himself for the impact yet received soft kisses and gentle hands.

His body remained still ready for his heart to shatter between their fingers but it never did, and he believes it now. He’s found it. 

They showed him patience. They met his insecurities with kindness. They looked into his tired eyes and offered him a place to rest. They kept him warm and held him when things got too heavy. They supported him, heard him, and saw him. They loved him and taught him how to love himself. 

“You can tell us anything, Charles. We’ll always have your back, okay?” Sebastian promises, pulling away from him slightly so their eyes meet. 

“I know that,” Charles confirms, “Where is this going? Is there something you two need to tell me?” 

Lewis cups his cheek and despite the glassines of the older man’s eyes, Charles can see the tenderness, “We just missed you tonight. Everything is always better when you’re there, sweetheart,” 

Charles smiles because although he knows Lewis and Sebastian love him, it’s nice to hear it when they’re drunk too. Drunk words are sober thoughts after all. 

“I missed you both too,” 

Sebastian pulls his phone out of his pocket and Charles groans when the opening notes of Making Love Out of Nothing at All by Air Supply start blaring out of the speaker. 

“Seb, not again,” He pleads, burrowing his head in his hands. 

Sebastian and Lewis laugh hysterically, jumping up off the sofa. 

“This is a classic, Charlie, and we need to improve your music taste. You can’t always be listening to that Señorita stuff,” Sebastian glees, pulling Charles’ hands away from his face. 

“It’s almost 2am. Now is not the time to be listening to Air Supply,” 

“You know who sings it? I’m impressed,” Sebastian quips, ruffling his hair. 

Charles scoffs and arches an eyebrow, unable to keep the smile off his face when the two men start - what he assumes is dancing around the room - although it looks a lot more like they’re trying to swat a bug.

“I only know who sings it because you play it every time you’re drunk,” He comments dryly, laughing when Sebastian gives him an affronted look. 

“I’m not drunk, Charlie!” 

Charles doesn’t even bother to dignify that with a reply but he does protest when the two men try to pull him up off the sofa. 

“No, no, I’m not dancing with you. I really am completely sober,” 

“Come on, Charlie. Dance with us,” Lewis insists, cheering when he succeeds in pulling the younger man up off the sofa. 

Charles tries to stop himself looking like he’s enjoying it but when Sebastian and Lewis both grasp one of his hand’s and start, well trying to dance, he can’t. 

“Sing, Charlie! You know the words!” Sebastian yells, tugging at his arm on a grin. 

“I really don’t, I only know this song because of you,” 

Sebastian snorts and shakes his head, “You’re so young. This is real music, Charles. You kids these days don’t know what you missed out on. This is the kind of stuff I grew up listening to,” 

Charles rolls his eyes because he definitely prefers a bit of Coldplay over this but at least he gets to see Lewis and Sebastian enjoying themselves. 

Sebastian cups his face and sings the lyrics to him, “But I don’t know how to leave you and I’ll never let you fall, and I don’t know you do it, making love out of nothing at all,” 

Charles laughs and presses a kiss to his lips, melting into the older man’s embrace when he wraps his arms around him. 

“Listen to the lyrics, Charlie. This is how I feel about you. I love you so much, sweetheart,” 

“I love you too, Seb,” Charles retorts, chuckling when the older man’s eyes look like they’re getting wet, “Please don’t say you’re about to cry to Air Supply,” 

“Of course I’m not!” Sebastian argues on a huff, rubbing at his eyes and jabbing the younger man in the side when he continues to laugh. 

Lewis wraps an arm around them both and places a chaste kiss to Charles’ cheek, murmuring the next part of the song in his ear, “And I can make you every promise that has ever been made and I can make all your demons be gone,” 

“You make this song make sense, Charles. I’d do whatever it takes to make you happy,” Lewis whispers, holding him close as they sway to the music. 

Sebastian’s and Lewis’ touches heal him. They did not close open wounds or fuse broken bones, but their pain relief of love was enough to fix his heart. 

Charles never believed it could be fixed but as they hold him in their arms and dedicate love songs to him, he feels as if he can breathe again. 

And it is so beautiful to be loved so gently when he’s known so much pain. 

Charles pulls away from them and watches on as they dance together in the dimly lit room. If he thought back to his ten year old self, that little boy would never have imagined he’d be dancing around a hotel room with two F1 legends. He likes to think that little boy would be happy with how things turned out though.

His favourite music has always been sad and his favourite time of day has always been night. It’s almost ironic that he fell in love with Lewis and Sebastian; the brightest people he’s ever met. 

He’s always loved the moon and the darkness that surrounds it, but they make him want to love the sun.

And that might have something to do with the fact that they are the centre of his universe. 

“Come on, Charlie. We’ll put on some Lionel Richie next,” Lewis pesters, tugging at his arm and pulling him between them. 

He lets the music wash over his brain and just enjoys the feeling of their arms wrapped around him whilst they sing along to the song in the completely wrong key. 

These are the moments that make him thankful to be alive.  _______________________________________________

Sebastian and Lewis share an amused look when they hear Charles screeching along to a song on the karaoke machine from inside the apartment. 

“Why do you always have to bring out the karaoke machine at all your parties?” Jenson mutters, covering his ears when Lando and Pierre join in on the song, sounding just as awful as Charles.

Daniel laughs and sips his beer, “Let the kids have their fun, mate. It’s a good way for them to blow off some steam,” He closes the balcony door, shutting out the chaos in the apartment, “Is that better?” 

“Much better,” Jenson smiles, “I hope none of them ever plan on going into the music industry when they retire,” 

Lewis snorts, “Thinking ahead a bit there, Jense. None of them are going to be retiring anytime soon,” 

“That’s true,” Jenson concedes, “I think I’m going to have to stop coming to your parties soon, Dan. They only make me feel older every time. They’re all so fucking young,” He grumbles, titling his beer in the direction of the door. 

Sebastian shares a look with Lewis, “They’re not that young, Jense. They’re just in their early twenties,” 

“They’re kids, Seb,” Jenson deadpans, arching an eyebrow at the German’s eye roll, “Oh please don’t tell me you’re crushing on one of them? They’re a decade younger than you!” 

“Of course I’m not,” Sebastian huffs, deliberately not catching Lewis’ eye. 

Jenson looks at him for a moment longer but before he can ask anymore questions the balcony door opens, and Charles drunkenly stumbles out, almost toppling over the railing of the balcony. 

All the older men shout and stand up ready to steady him. Lewis and Sebastian grab their boyfriend and force him down on the chair between them. 

“Fuck sake, Charles. Be more careful,” Sebastian snaps, ignoring the pout on the younger man’s face.

“Sorry,” Charles mumbles, pushing himself off the chair and collapsing into Lewis’ lap, before reaching an arm out to hold Sebastian’s hand, “Can we go home soon? I want to cuddle,” 

Lewis and Sebastian freeze flicking wide eyes over to their friends. Jenson is gaping at them but Daniel is grinning widely, loving every second. 

Lewis slams the door shut, ensuring that none of the other drivers would be able to see them. He turns back to the men opposite and prepares himself the inevitable interrogation. 

“You three?” Jenson asks slowly, the words hanging in the air, “You three are together?” 

Sebastian sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “Well obviously this isn’t how we planned on telling you,” 

Charles bolts up in Lewis’ lap, “It was an accident! I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking,” He cries, looking between his boyfriends. 

Lewis shushes him and pulls his head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s fine, Charlie. Don’t get upset. People were going to find out eventually,” 

People would have found out eventually and he can’t blame Charles right now, not when he’s too drunk to even think straight. Still, this definitely isn’t how they had planned on announcing it and he can feel the nerves in him waiting for his friends’ reactions. 

“I knew it!” Daniel cheers, earning disbelieving looks off the older men. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “You did not know. We were very careful,”

“Well I didn’t know for sure. I always thought there was something going on with you and the Ferrari Prince though. Lewis is a surprise,” 

“Is this for real?” Jenson questions, still looking like he’s entered some parallel universe. 

Lewis smiles at him, pressing a kiss to Charles’ hair, “It’s for real. We’ve been together nearly four months now,” 

He’s never felt so content and so in love with anyone as he does Charles and Sebastian. When they hold each other close it feels like they’re living in a dream world where nothing else matters and they can spend the rest of their lives just doing this. The ticking of the clock will bring them back to reality but here he is, still feeling so content and in love. 

Jenson takes a few moments to process the information and then smiles, “I’m happy for you, genuinely. I’m a bit surprised but as long as you’re all happy,” 

“We are,” Sebastian confirms, leaning over to pull Lewis into a chaste kiss then letting his hand rest on Charles’ knee. 

“You two have done alright for yourselves there, got yourself a little toy boy,” Daniel jokes, laughing at the glares they shoot him, “I’m just messing about. I’m happy for you, of course. You better be treating the kid right,” 

Daniel leans forward in his chair to look at the younger man, “Kept that a secret didn’t you, kid. That’s the longest I’ve ever known you to be able to keep something to yourself,” 

Charles shrugs his shoulders on a smirk, “Lewis and Seb said we shouldn’t tell anyone,” 

“Yes and that is to protect your career, Charlie. You’ve still got a long way to go and something like this could really have an impact,” Lewis reminds him, carding a hand through his hair. 

“To that point, we would obviously appreciate you two keeping this to yourselves. You know how much this could spiral if it got out,” 

“Of course, mate. My lips are sealed,” Daniel promises, and Jenson nods in agreement. 

“Mine too. I’d never do that to either of you,” 

Lewis beams in relief. Jenson and Daniel disapproving of their relationship would never have changed anything. He knows he’ll never be able to let Charles and Sebastian go now, but it’s comforting to know they have the support of their friends. 

“We always said if we got found it’d be because of you and your big mouth, Charlie,” Sebastian gripes half heartedly, rolling his eyes. 

Charles huffs on an affronted look, “It was an accident,” 

“It’s fine, Charles. It’s better that some people know. It means we don’t have to worry about it as much. You’ve done us a favour. I love you, sweetheart,” Lewis assures him, ruffling his hair. 

It’s them. It’s always Sebastian and Charles. They are the only ones he’ll ever want. They belong to him and he belongs to them. He looks at them and somehow he can see 50 years from now on the front porch of some old house together in the middle of nowhere. They’re the only thing that matters. 

Chapter Text

The last race before the summer break wasn’t what the team wanted. It definitely wasn’t what he wanted. 

Any hope of staying in the race for the championship had been blown apart by the team’s strategy - or lack thereof more like. 

And that’s how he’s ended up here. 

Again. 

It’s a different setting, his driver’s room doesn’t seem like the most appropriate place to do this, but he’s desperate; desperate for something to distract him from the overwhelming disappointment.

The blade slides across his arm almost like it was made to slice flesh. The drops of red blood seep out of the cut and he smiles. He smiles through the tears blurring his eyes as he watches the blood drip down his arm. 

He suffers in silence so others don’t feel his pain. The demons crawl inside his veins, they come and go. There’s no knocks or locks, they have permanent keys. 

There’s an emptiness sitting heavy in his chest. It’s a parasite leeching the optimism from his blood until it feels like it was never there at all. His mind is becoming his worst enemy. 

“Charles,” 

Carlos’ voice reverberates through the door and he immediately flings the blade across the room, not even bothering to look where it landed. 

He tugs down the sleeves of his fireproofs and scrubs at his eyes, just in time for the door to open. 

“Just wanted to check how you were doing, mate. I know today wasn’t easy for either of us,” 

Charles forces a small smile, “We’ll come back stronger after the summer break,” He doesn’t even believe the words as he says them but he’s so used to spewing the same shit to the media that it’s almost second nature. 

Carlos snorts in obvious disagreement but holds out his fist, “I’ll see you over the summer break, mate,” 

Charles crosses the room and holds out his own fist, his eyes widening when he realises the blood from his arm has managed to soak into his fireproofs. 

He glances at his teammate and immediately knows he’s seen it too, and that he knows how it happened. 

The most disgusted expression comes over the Spaniards perfectly stoic face. “What the fuck happened to your wrist?” 

“I hurt it in the car,” 

Carlos’ dark brown eyes blaze up to meet his and Charles swears on his life, the fury in those irises are enough for him to stop breathing. “Charles,” Carlos growls, literally growls, as he softly tugs the sleeve further up his forearm to display the two-inch fresh cut just above his wrist. 

Charles pulls his arm back and slides the sleeve down. “It’s fine Carlos, I’ll get it checked out by medical in a minute.” Was there even any point in lying? They both know what’s happened. He only has to glance at the hard drawn line of the older man’s mouth to know he isn’t going to let this go. 

Carlos’ nostrils flare and a muscle in his cheek visibly twitches, “Lewis and Seb told me to keep an eye on you. They told me you’d done this before but I didn’t think you’d do it again,”

That definitely catches his attention and he flicks heated eyes at the older man. Lewis and Sebastian always had to involve themselves in everything. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate. Lewis and Seb obviously don’t either,” 

“Don’t lie to me, Charles. I’m your teammate,” His voice is deceptively soft. “Come on, let’s clean you up and then we can talk,” Charles knows that look on his face; it’s his stubborn one. The one that said it was pointless to argue. 

Carlos washes his wrist as if he’s a small child, gently dragging the flannel across the wound, occasionally looking up at him with worried eyes. 

“Where’s your razor?” 

The question catches him off guard, and he furrows his brows, “What?” 

Carlos’ mouth stays in the same line it has been the past ten minutes, “Where’s your razor? I’m not leaving it here with you,” 

He doesn’t even bother trying to argue, just points a finger in the general direction of the area he’d thrown it. Carlos assesses him for a moment before walking over and quickly retrieving it from behind the sofa. 

“Is this the only one?” 

Charles rolls his eyes in annoyance. Carlos is getting on his nerves now. “Yes. I’m not going to do it again, mate. Just leave me alone, please,” 

The Spaniard nods on a sigh and heads for the door only stopping when Charles calls out his name nervously, “Can you not tell anyone about this?” 

Images of Mattia storming into his driver’s room washing over his brain, or worse Lewis and Sebastian; who he’d promised nothing like this would ever happen again. 

Carlos looks at him on an almost affronted look, “I’d never tell Mattia about this, Charles. I wouldn’t do that to you. I really wish you’d get some help though. I worry about you sometimes,” 

“Please don’t tell Lewis and Sebastian,” Charles pleads, ignoring his teammate. 

Carlos doesn’t answer, just gives him one last concerned look before leaving the room. Charles drops onto the sofa with a groan knowing the first thing his teammate is going to do is find the older men. 

-

Sebastian is still reeling from the conversation they’d had with Carlos earlier. When the Ferrari driver had rushed over to them he immediately started thinking the worst; Charles was hurt. 

It’s wasn’t what he had expected it to be but Charles is hurt. He’s hurting inside and that might be even worse than any physical ailment. He and Lewis could help him if it was something physical, but they’re running out of ways to help their boyfriend mentally. 

“What are we going to say to him?” Lewis asks, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“We are not going to say anything yet. I don’t want him to freak out on us. We are going to go back to Switzerland and we’ll talk to him there,” 

It seems like the best option. Going off previous experience, Charles seemed to find it easier to open up with them when they were in Switzerland. Sebastian suspects it’s something to do with the comfort the house brings him. 

He also just really wants to go home too. 

Charles flicks curious eyes at his boyfriends when they’ve managed to make it to the airport and neither of them have mentioned anything about his wrist. 

Maybe Carlos didn’t tell them. 

Lewis smiles at him once he’s plugged his belt in, “Go to sleep, Charlie. You look like you need a rest,” 

The mention of sleep makes Charles yawn and he realises how tired he is, he snuggles into Lewis’ side and lets himself drift off for the rest of the flight. 

Sebastian rings a taxi to pick them up and take them back to his house. Charles only just manages to keep his eyes open long enough to follow after the older men before letting them slowly shut once he’s in the back seat of the car.

He’s awoken by Lewis’ elbow nudging him in the side. They drag their suitcases out of the taxi and trudge up to the house. The fews hours sleep he’s managed to get have done their job and Charles is feeling much better. 

“I think I’ll go for a swim,” He announces, looking out of the large window to the pool basking under the evening sun light.

“Charlie, wait. We need to talk first,” Sebastian calls, walking into the living room with his no nonsense face. 

Alarm bells start ringing in Charles’ head and it feels like they have set him up. They’d known the whole time but they wanted to trap him so he had nowhere else to go. 

“We can talk later. I’m going for a swim,” He retorts evenly, trying to walk past the older man and scoffing when Lewis moves to block the doorway, “No, Charles. We are talking now. It’s important,” 

Subconsciously his hand moves to his wrist but he quickly drops it when the older men’s eyes follow his movement and narrow. 

“We’ve literally just got back. Can I not relax for a bit before you two are breathing down my neck about something?” 

The anger in his voice doesn’t seem to deter the older men who continue to watch him with solemn eyes. 

“Stop, Charles. You know what this is about. We need to talk about it now. It’s us or Mattia. Your choice,” Sebastian warns evenly, his eyes not leaving the younger man’s. 

Charles huffs a humourless laugh, “Piss off, Seb. I’m not doing this,” 

Lewis sighs and pinches his nose, closing his eyes briefly before opening them and glaring at his boyfriend, “Don’t act like this, Charles. Sit down and we’ll talk. We just want to help”, 

Charles groans and tilts his head up to the ceiling, “I’m not asking for your help,” 

“That is part of the problem,” Sebastian replies evenly, “Sit down, Charles,” 

“No! Why did I come back here just to have you two gang up on me?! I’m getting really fed up with the both of you!” 

Lewis snorts, “We aren’t especially fond of you right now either, Charles. Sit down,” 

“Leave me alone! Sometimes I hate you both,” He sneers, “You two are the reason I always end up feeling like this! It’s you two that hurt me more than anything else!” 

The words cut Sebastian but he’s used to this by now. He’s used to it sometimes feeling like a chore to be there for his boyfriend; who will do whatever it takes to avoid reaching out for help. 

“I know you don’t mean that, Charles. You’re being defensive. I know that you’re probably scared. It’s scary not being able to control the thoughts in your head. Let us help you,” Sebastian steps toward him with a soft smile, and Charles takes a step back on a scowl. 

“I do mean it! I hate you both! I don’t think I ever loved either of you!” 

He wishes he could stop it. He never really means any of it, and he especially never means for it to go so far. 

And yet in that moment he can’t help it and the most important thing once the rage has taken over is watching as their faces crumbles, eyes well up, and he can smile knowing he’s won. 

He hates every second of it; every meaningless spiteful word he spews from the top of his lungs. But he can’t control it and the worst part is knowing how far he’s capable of going just to hurt them. 

Or maybe the worst part is like now when he’s looking into their eyes after it’s all over and realising what he’s done, horrified by the rage he contains. 

“Charles, stop. This isn’t going to work. We are going to talk about this,” Sebastian states, trying to stay firm even though the words are reverberating around his head. 

Charles doesn’t mean it, he knows that. His boyfriend is struggling and he’s lashing out. 

The world has been anything but fair to Charles and it must feel like he’s fighting for nothing at this point. Sebastian wants to promise him that it will get better, even though it sounds like a cliche. He wants Charles to know that if he keeps going and fighting it will get better. He didn’t come this far to only come this far. 

When it becomes obvious that Charles isn’t going to give in, he sighs and shrugs his shoulders, “Fine, we’ll talk like this. Carlos told us he found you cutting yourself. You promised us it would never happen again. What’s going on, Charles?”

Charles can feel his walls crumbling and he drops his head, staring down at his socked feet and desperately trying to stop the tears in his eyes, “I don’t want to talk about it,” 

Lewis crosses the room and cups his face, dragging his thumb across the tears that have managed to fall, “I know it’s hard to talk about, Charlie, but you need to. Let’s sit down,” He pulls Charles down onto the sofa next to him, glad the younger man doesn’t fight him off. 

Sebastian perches down on the other side of Charles and rests a hand on his knee, “Take your time, sweetheart. There’s no rush,” He murmurs, frowning slightly when something that looks like insolence flashes in the younger man’s eyes, “We are talking about it though, Charles. This isn’t going away and neither are we,” 

Lewis shakes his head at the look on the younger man’s face. His face looks pained, as if it’s working overtime just to remain even. It aches to look at him, to know that he’s trying so hard to be okay. “You don’t need to be brave right now, Charles. You are safe. You can tell us,” 

Charles closes his eyes briefly and exhales a long breath in the way people do when they’re utterly exhausted. 

“I just feel like,” Charles starts, looking around the room as if there’s something in there that can help him put his feelings into words, “I feel like I have no other choice but to give up. If I keep doing this it’ll destroy me,” 

The walls of gloom are caving in and he knows the feeling of doom won’t lead to anything happy. It doesn’t help that he always feels alone. He’s lost his sense of self and he’s trapped in this mental hell, trying to figure out where he belongs. 

Lewis looks at his boyfriend, looks into his eyes, and he knows that whatever pain Charles is admitting to is a drop in the bucket compared to how he feels. 

He’s not sure that emotional love can be separated from physical love. Or maybe he’s just not a very tactile person. Either way, it’s not enough for him to say, “I love you.” 

The words feel so small compared to everything that’s in him. He has to show him. He has to make sure that it’s felt as much as heard. Lewis leans into him. He kisses him. He pulls him close. 

“Giving up isn’t an option, Charles. We won’t let you give up on yourself, but we won’t let you carry on like this either,” He says, his voice is quiet but stoic, making sure his boyfriend knows that he really means it.

He carefully considers what to say next. It’s not something that any race driver wants to hear. It’s not something that’s fair to ask someone who has spent their entire life working to be in F1. In the red car. 

It’s something he needs to ask though. He needs to ask it because as much as he knows it’ll anger Charles, he’d rather the younger man be angry than secretly hurting himself. 

“Do you think you need to take a break? I don’t just mean a few weeks off for summer. I mean maybe a year off racing once the season is over. A year to get some help and sort your head out,” 

Betrayal flashes in Charles’ eyes and Lewis prepares himself for the onslaught of words he knows is coming his way. 

Their love used to be fresh and sweet. Their love is real now, and with real love comes the fights. The words that will hurt. He knows he’s hurt Charles by asking that but watching Charles harm himself is hurting him more. 

Charles pushes him away, creating a space between them and Lewis lets him. He doesn’t pull him back. 

“How can you even ask that?” Charles hisses, poison in his voice that hits harder than any yell, “I’m not taking any time off racing! That’s ridiculous!” 

“What are we going to do then, Charles? You can’t keep going on like this,” Sebastian asks, watching the anger on the younger man’s face morph into exhaustion again. 

Charles shakes his head, not yet being able to form any words. He looks down at his wrist and pulls the sleeve up, staring at the cut spanning across his skin. 

“I won’t do it again,” He whispers, and he’s almost certain he means it. The cut on his arm doesn’t offer him any comfort, it doesn’t feel like a way of taking out his pain. It feels foolish. 

“We’ve been here before, Charles. You said the exact same thing. How do we know this time is any different?” Sebastian questions, lowering his voice half way through when he can hear the frustration escaping. 

Charles’ eyes find his and he’s almost taken a back by the pain in them. They don’t look like his boyfriend’s eyes. It’s almost as if he’s looking at a stranger.

“You’ll have to trust me,” 

It’s not what he wants to hear because he doesn’t trust Charles completely. He trusts Charles with his deepest secrets. He trusts Charles to love him in the way he wants to be loved. He trusts Charles with his heart. 

He doesn’t trust Charles to look after himself though. He doesn’t trust Charles to seek them out when things are too heavy. He doesn’t trust Charles to be grateful for his life.

“It’s not enough, Charles. You need to get help,” 

“I’ll get help but you both need to promise me that you won’t tell anyone. The team can never know,” 

Lewis shakes his head in annoyance, “Charles, you need support right now. They need to know what’s going on. I know you’re scared but they’ll help you,” 

Charles flicks heated eyes to him and Lewis already knows he’s lost this battle tonight. Charles can be stubborn in the worst way. 

“No one can find out. I’ll get help but no one can know,” 

Sebastian’s eyes find his behind Charles’ head and they both know it’s not enough. They know just as well though that Charles has taken a big step tonight and it’s not worth pushing him to the point he shuts down. 

“Okay,” Lewis breathes, cupping the younger man’s cheek, “We love you, Charles, more than anyone in the world has ever loved anything. We just want you to be okay,” 

Their love is a pair of scissors that he keeps begging Charles not to run with because he doesn’t want any of them to get hurt. It’s too late though because Charles has already hurt himself. 
_______________________________________________

Sebastian pulls off his coat and holds it out to him without saying anything, the glare still very much present on his face. 

Charles looks down at it in confusion, “I’m not holding it for you,” 

Sebastian growls in the back of his throat and shakes the coat in his hand, “Put it on. Why would you come out with only a t-shirt on? It’s freezing,” 

Charles glances between his boyfriend’s face and the coat, still not entirely sure what’s happening. A minute ago they were arguing and now Sebastian is worried about him being cold. 

“Charles,” Sebastian snaps, “Put the coat on. I’ll be even more annoyed at you if I have to drive you to the hospital because you’ve got hypothermia,” 

He takes the coat out of Sebastian’s hands and pulls it over his shoulders, already savouring the warmth it engulfs his body in. “Thank you,” 

“Do the zip up,” Sebastian hisses, “There’s no point in wearing it if you’re not going to zip it up,” 

Charles’ face scrunches up on a shake of the head, “I prefer it not done up,” 

The German inhales a deep breath and fingers the zip, pulling it to the top of the coat and shooting him an aggrieved look, “Do you live just to piss me off?“

Charles huffs a laugh at that and cups the older man’s cheek, “Among other things,” He retorts grinning at the glower on Sebastian’s face. 

The glower is quickly replaced with a frown, and Sebastian grips his arm, inspecting the small bruises along his forearm where the coat sleeve had lowered. “How did you do this? Did you fall over drunk again when you went out with Pierre?” 

Charles opens his mouth to argue that only happened once, but then he remembers how he got the bruises. 

It had been a particularly volatile argument between the three of them the other day. Something that seems to be happening more and more. Sebastian and Lewis screaming at him for shutting them out and him screaming just as loudly back. 

The bruises appeared the next day. It’s not difficult to know how he got them. Sebastian had been gripping his arm so tightly the day before, trying to stop him walking out of the room. It had hurt at the time but not as much as arguing them with did so he didn’t think much of it. 

He still doesn’t think much of it. They’d been arguing, all acting as bad as each other. It’s not like Sebastian had intended to hurt him. 

“They’re from the other day when we were arguing. It’s alright, it doesn’t hurt,” He replies nonchalantly, immediately wishing he’d just lied when he sees the pain flash through the older man’s eyes. 

“I did this?” 

Charles’ eyes soften at the hoarseness in the older man’s voice and he leans into kiss him gently, “It’s fine, Seb. We were arguing. Really, it doesn’t hurt,” 

Sebastian doesn’t look convinced but their conversation comes to an abrupt end when Lewis walks back over, holding a large box of fireworks he just purchased that they’ll be using for their end of season party. 

“You two ready to go? It’s freezing out here,” Lewis questions, looking between them completely unaware of the atmosphere surrounding them.

Charles smiles reassuringly at Sebastian and takes the box of fireworks off Lewis, seeing he’s struggling to hold them. “Yeah, let’s go home,” 

Lewis grins at him and they head over to the car, stopping in their tracks when they realise Sebastian isn’t following. 
 
“Seb, come on,” Lewis nags, gesturing with his arm. 

Sebastian’s eyes don’t leave Charles’ until the younger man turns away and carries onto the car. He follows after them as the thoughts spiral in his head. 

He’d hurt Charles. The one person he swore he’d never hurt. 

He can remember being so angry at him - he can remember wanting to shake him to try and get some sense into him. No one has ever managed to push his buttons like Charles Leclerc does. They’re so similar yet so different at the same time. 

Charles drives him insane on his best days but he would never hurt him. The thought of ever harming the younger man is unimaginable - it makes him feel sick to his stomach. 

And that’s what he’s feeling right now. He’s disgusted at himself for ever letting his anger get the better of him and not realising he was hurting his boyfriend. The person he’d promised himself he would always protect. 

Sebastian drives back to his house and he can hear Lewis and Charles’ lightheaded banter but the words aren’t registering. His body is on autopilot as he manoeuvres the roads. 

The guilt is overpowering. The shame. The self-hatred. 

When they pull up in front of the house, he waits for Charles to get out of the car and then turns to Lewis, gripping his arm before he gets out. Then the images of Charles’ bruises flash in his mind and he loosens his grip.

“You alright?” Lewis asks on furrowed brows, taking his hand away from the door handle and turning to him, “What’s wrong, Seb?” 

Sebastian shakes his head slowly, running a hand through his hair, “I hurt Charles,” 

The furrowed brow stays on Lewis’ face, “What do you mean? When? Whilst I was getting the fireworks?” 

“No,” He cries, “The other day when we were arguing. He’s got bruises on his arms, Lewis. Bruises that I gave him,” 

The Brit looks at him for a moment before nodding slightly, “Okay, well it was a bad argument. We were all angry. You didn’t mean to hurt him, Seb. He’ll know that. It was an accident,” 

“I feel awful! I can’t believe I hurt him! I didn’t realise I was holding his arm that hard. I hate myself, Lewis,” 

“Seb,” Lewis soothes, leaning over the car console and wrapping an arm around him, “It’s fine. It was an accident. Why don’t we go in and talk to him?” He asks, looking across the driveway and noting Charles standing in the doorway with a puzzled expression. 

The younger man raises his arms in a what are you doing gesture, and Lewis waves him off, “Come on, let’s go inside,” He whispers, stepping out of the car and waiting for Sebastian to follow him up to the house. 

Charles looks between them and already knows from the expression on both their faces that Sebastian has told Lewis about the bruises. 

“Seb,” He sighs, rolling his eyes, “This is not a big deal. It was a stupid argument and my arm doesn’t even hurt. The bruises will go in a few days,” 

Sebastian’s eyes widen and then narrow on the younger man, “It is a big deal, Charles! I hurt you! That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do. You didn’t even tell me! I would never have known if I didn’t see the bruises!” 

“I didn’t tell you because it’s not a big deal,” 

Lewis slips an arm around them both, acting as a human barrier, “Let’s go and sit down,” He suggests, guiding them into the living room and over to the sofa. 

“Let me see your arm,” 

Charles rolls his eyes again and Lewis arches an eyebrow, “Charles, let me see,” 

The Monegasque begrudgingly holds out his forearm, letting Lewis run his fingers across the small bruises, “Oh Charlie, you should have told us,” He murmurs, pressing soft kisses to each bruise, “Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“I don’t know,” Charles mutters, shrugging his shoulders and pulling his arm back, “I thought it might upset, Seb,” 

Sebastian shakes his head in disbelief, “Gott, Charles. It doesn’t matter if it would upset me. I’d want to know so next time I’m more careful. I know we were arguing but if I knew that I was hurting you I wouldn’t have done it,” 

The German leans forward and looks past Lewis to assess the younger man, “Is that the real reason you didn’t tell me? It wasn’t because you were…scared?” The last word comes out as almost a whisper, the idea that Charles might be scared of him breaking his heart. 

Charles shakes his head vehemently, “No I wasn’t scared! I’m not scared of you, Seb! Anyway if you did try to actually hit me or something I’m pretty sure I’d be able to defend myself. I’m taller than you after all,” 

Charles thought making a joke would lighten the atmosphere but the look of devastation on the older man’s face suggests it wasn’t the right way to go. 

“I’d never hit you, Charles! I can’t believe I’ve done this! Do you really think I’d hit you?” 

“No, no, of course I don’t,” He backtracks, grasping the older man’s hand, “I was joking. Seb, I promise this isn’t a big deal to me. I know you love me and I know you’d never hurt me,” 

“I have hurt you though,” 

Lewis looks between them on a half smile, “You didn’t do it deliberately, Seb. We’ll just have to make sure that the next time we argue we’re more careful with each other. This can’t happen again,” 

Sebastian nods, still feeling like he deserves to be burnt at the stake, “I’m really sorry, Charlie,” 

“It’s fine, Seb. I promise,” 

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” 

Sebastian wishes he didn’t say it so often. He wishes that his love for Charles wasn’t so casual and pervasive - so that he could save that phrase for moments like this. But he knows that’s not very realistic. When you love someone, it seeps out of everything you do, it bleeds into everything you say, it becomes so ever-present, that eventually it becomes ordinary to hear, no matter how extraordinary it is to feel.

Charles smiles and lifts the older man’s hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to his knuckles, “I love you too,” 

“And for the record you’re not that much taller than me,” Sebastian mumbles on a slight smile, “You’re maybe half an inch taller,” 

“I’m a lot taller! I’m a lot taller than both of you!” Charles exclaims, rolling his eyes at the smirks on their faces, and standing up. 

“Where are you going?” Lewis calls after his boyfriend when he walks out of the room. 

“To get a tape measure!” 
_______________________________________________

Lewis sighs when he stops behind the sofa and sees Charles reading yet another article on his phone. 

“Charles, stop reading them. It’s not going to do you any good,” 

Sebastian looks up with a frown, from the armchair where he’s reading his book, “Charles, you better not be reading another article about France. I told you to stop,” 

Charles drops his phone onto the sofa on a groan, “They’re calling me the pretty boy of Formula 1 now, saying the only reason I’ve got my seat is for the fans,” 

Sometimes, he feels like he just couldn’t catch a fucking break. From the media, from the nasty comments, from his car. From everyone’s expectations.

He’s never been able to shut things out like Sebastian. The older man refuses to look at the media but Charles always has. He searches his name up on Twitter and Google just to see what people are saying about him. 

Normally it’s nice stuff; how he deserves a better team, how he’s a generational talent. 

After a bad race though they crucify him, as if one mistake rights off all the other good races. 

It’s so hard to stay confident when so many people are breathing down his neck and he has to keep ignoring them and he has to pretend everything is fine even if he can feel their words under his skin every so often and -

and if he’s being honest, he’s so tired of it all.

He’s built in a battlefield surrounded by corpses of who he could have been. He wonders how he was the one that crawled out of the grave whilst parts of him were buried deep in dirt. He is built from the boy who sucked on ice lollies at karting tracks but he is also built from the man who lost too many people he loved. 

“They don’t know you, Charlie. Their opinion is completely irrelevant,” Sebastian states matter of factly, “They have no idea what it takes to drive an F1 car. It’s easy for them to sit behind their computers and criticise you. Ignore them. You know that you’re talented and so does everyone that matters,” 

“What if they’re right? What if I’m not good enough to be in Formula 1?” Charles cries, dropping his head into his hands. 

Lewis sighs and walks around to the sofa, taking a seat next to the younger man and pulling him into his arms, “Charlie, they don’t know anything. Of course you’re good enough to be in F1. You’re one of the best drivers on the grid and you’ve still got years to get even better,” 

“Why are they targeting me? I made one mistake! People make mistakes all the time! They treat me like I’m not human,” 

He remembers talking about it with Lando before; the way people interact with them on social media as if they don’t have feelings. The death threats, the ridiculing, the slander.

Now he tends to block people that send him hate, it’s the only way he can use social media without it breaking him. There’s this misguided belief that Formula 1 drivers are superheroes. They’re not though, they’re just people, and the words hurt.  

“Charles, do you know what the media used to say about me? They used to say I’d never win a world championship. They used to say I didn’t deserve my redbull seat,” 

Charles raises his eyes to meet the older man’s and frowns, “They really used to say that?” 

Sebastian scoffs on a grin, “They did and they were wrong. That wasn’t even the worst of what they used to say. When I was at Ferrari they used to campaign for me to lose my seat,” 

“That’s horrible. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t win a championship at Ferrari, it was the teams fault,” 

“I know that and that’s why I don’t listen to the media. It’s why you shouldn’t either, Charlie. They don’t know a thing,” 

“They do know me though,” Charles replies meekly, “They see me race and they don’t think I’m good enough,” 

Lewis sighs and cards his hand through the younger man’s hair. It breaks his heart to see Charles like this. He can see the struggle in his eyes. He can see he’s trapped inside his own head. The mask is slowly cracking and he can see the hidden tears. It’s like looking in a shattered mirror and he’s worried he won’t know how to fix it. 

“They don’t know you, Charlie,” He murmurs, “They don’t know that you’re a terrible liar. They don’t know that you can’t eat too much sugar or you’ll be running around everywhere. They don’t know that you hate being cold. They don’t know how angry you get when you lose at Call of Duty. They don’t know you, Charles. We know you and we are telling you that everything they’re saying doesn’t matter,” 

“I wish everyone was like you two. I wish they’d just give me a break,” Charles breathes, snuggling into the Brit’s side. 

“Don’t listen to them, Charles. Listen to us. We love you and we know that one day you’re going to be a champion,” 

It’s a beautiful kind of pain to be truly loved whilst hating himself. The constant worrying about which parts he let them see, and what his skin feels like under their fingertips. 

There are many things Charles hates about himself but he supposes if people as good as Lewis and Sebastian can love him despite them all,  then maybe he’s not so bad after all. 

Chapter Text

“This is disgusting. It’s 2022 for fuck sake, man. How do people get away with saying this stuff?” Lewis mutters, scrolling through yet another article showcasing paparazzi photos of Max and Daniel. 

It has been front page news since last night; photos of Daniel and Max kissing on a balcony along with an array of offensive, crude or insensitive headlines. 

When he’d first seen the photos, Lewis thought they were photoshopped. He had no idea that the two drivers had been in relationship, let alone that they weren’t straight. 

It wasn’t until an official statement was made on both Max’s and Daniel’s accounts confirming their relationship that he believed it. 

It’s a first for the sport. There has never been openly homosexual drivers before, and looking at the reaction Lewis can understand why. It’s the exact reason that he has made sure they haven’t been outed. 

The ache in his gut that has been there ever since the photos were released amplifies when he looks at his boyfriends next to him. 

The idea that they could all face the same scrutiny, the same hate, if they were to ever be outed makes him feel sick to his stomach. 

None of them chose this life. Being gay or bisexual isn’t a choice. Lewis didn’t wake up one day choosing who he was attracted to. 

It’s so infuriating that part of him, parts of Sebastian and Charles are called a “lifestyle” or “sexual preference”. 

If he’s being honest he probably would not have chosen being bisexual if this was a choice. Not saying he’s not comfortable with who who he is, but it can be challenging and painful. Who would choose being subjugated to bias and homophobia on a daily basis? Who would choose having to love in private due to fear of losing their career? 

“It’s worse because they obviously weren’t ready to come out yet. I’m going to text Daniel again and remind him we are here if he needs us,” Sebastian grumbles, glancing at Lewis’ phone where the man is looking at the photo of the two driver’s on the balcony, “I didn’t even know Max was gay,” 

“I knew he was gay,” 

Lewis and Sebastian look at their boyfriend in surprise, “How did you know that? You never said anything,”

Charles frowns at the Brit, “I’ve known since we were kids. It wasn’t my place to say anyway. He’s always known I was bisexual but he’s never told anyone,” 

“I thought you two hated each other. People that hate each other don’t normally know each other’s biggest secret,” Sebastian points out. 

Charles rolls his eyes on a smirk, “We don’t hate each other. We used to hate each other but things are better now. He was my first kiss with a boy after all,” 

Sebastian and Lewis drop their phones and gape at the younger man. Lewis shifts in the bed to stare down his boyfriend, “You and Max?” 

“Well, not really. We were like 15 and still trying to figure out who we were. We’d been arguing after a race and then he kissed me. It never happened again but after we kissed he told me he thought he was gay and I told him I thought I was bisexual,” 

Sebastian shakes his head on a grin, “Charles Leclerc you never fail to surprise me,” 

Charles huffs a laugh and starts typing on his phone, “I’m going back to Monaco tonight to see Daniel and Max. You two don’t mind do you?” 

“No of course not, Charlie. Do you want us to come? The press will be all over them,” 

Charles hums and shakes his head, “I think it’ll be better if it’s just me. I’ve known Max a long time and I know we don’t always get on but I should be there for him. He’s my emotional support rival,” 

Sebastian looks at him as if he’s losing his mind, “Emotional support rival?” 

Lewis rolls his eyes fondly, “It’s what they are calling them on Twitter, because they always talk after races,” 

He glances over at Charles who is probably also scrolling through the hateful comments on Max’s most recent Instagram post.

The Dutchman had no choice but to put out a statement after the photos were shared everywhere. 

Lewis is proud of Max and Daniel for not hiding away. He’s proud of them for coming out and taking a stand. 

He’s not proud of the so called Formula 1 fans ridiculing them, insulting them. They seem to think Max and Daniel loving each other will make them unable to perform on the track, as if the fact they want to wake up in bed together will mean they can’t race anymore. 

They are all risking so much by just being who they are. People claim the world is more tolerant now but you’d only have to read the first three comments on Max’s post to know that’s not the case. 

“Charlie,” He murmurs, pulling the younger man’s phone out of his hands and placing it on the bedside table, “I know it can’t be easy reading all the comments being made about Daniel and Max. Are you doing okay?” 

Charles shrugs his shoulders on a half smile, “They don’t know Max and Daniel so their opinion doesn’t matter. That’s what you always say right?” 

Lewis smiles and cups his boyfriend’s cheek, “I do always say that but it’s easier said than done. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Are you?” Charles counters tilting his chin upwards, his voice becoming hoarser, angrier as he looks between them, “Are you two okay? Are you okay with the shit they’re saying? As if loving a man makes you less deserving? As if there’s something wrong with us?” His voice breaks and a sob escapes his mouth just before Lewis and Sebastian wrap their arms around him. 

Sebastian shushes the younger man, carding his hand through his dark hair, “I know it’s awful, Charles. It shouldn’t be like this anymore,” Sebastian murmurs, “There’s nothing wrong with us though, sweetheart. You know that don’t you? Does this feel wrong to you?” 

Charles closes his eyes briefly, memorising the way his boyfriends’ hands feel in his hair and on his skin, “No it feels right but why do they think it’s wrong? Why do they hate us?” 

He remembers being a child and throwing the word gay around as an insult with his friends. He’s sorry to the gay kid him and his friends laughed at before he knew he was bisexual. He’s sorry that he probably split their world right in half just so he could form his own. He’s sorry for making them feel like a sin. They were never a sin. 

Lewis laughs bitterly, unshed tears shining in his eyes, “I wish I knew, Charlie. Religion maybe? The way they were brought up? Whatever it is it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters to me is you and Seb. We are going to be okay,” 

“I wish we didn’t have to be a secret anymore,” He whispers. 

The secrecy of their relationship is the worst part. It burns underneath the surface waiting for its chance to escape. Charles wants nothing more than to be able to love Lewis and Sebastian in public in the same way he does in private. The scrutiny of the world shouldn’t hold them back for much longer. For now, for their safety, they’ll stay hidden away from the prejudice in the world. It’s hard but it’s necessary. 

“One day, Charlie. One day we’ll have it all,” Lewis promises, and he believes him. 

-

Charles pretends not to see the paparazzi standing around outside Daniel’s apartment building. One of the things he’s always loved about Monaco is the privacy - a lot of celebrities live here and most of the time you are able to live a reasonably normal life. 

Apparently that’s not the case if you are two F1 drivers just wanting to love each other. 

He pulls his hood up over his head and punches the code for the building in, making sure the door has shut behind him so that no one can follow him in. 

Daniel’s apartment is on the second floor and so it’s only a few seconds in the elevator before he’s standing outside the door. Charles knocks and there’s no answer. 

“It’s me,” He calls through the door, and within a few moments it swings open to reveal an exhausted Australian. 

“Hey kiddo,” Daniel greets him tiredly, forcing a half smile, “Sorry, we’ve had a few reporters try to get up here,” He explains, dragging Charles into the apartment and into his arms, “Fuck knows how they got my address,”

Charles pulls back and looks up at the man, the anger burning in him at the state of his friend. This is what the media have done to Daniel. They’ve ripped every bit of energy from him. 

“I’m so sorry, Daniel,” He whispers, because he’s not sure what else he can say and he really is sorry. He’s sorry Daniel and Max were outed in the worst way possible. He’s sorry they are facing so much hate. “How are you? How’s Max?” He asks, looking around the apartment. 

Daniel snorts on a shake of the head, “We are not fucking great, mate. I’ve spent the last twenty four hours on the phone with just about everyone I know. If I ever find out who took those photos…” 

The older man doesn’t finish but Charles understands. He’s not sure what he’d do if he ever got his hands on the person that did this - it wouldn’t be legal though.

“You didn’t have to come, Charles. You’re only going to end up getting dragged into this mess,” 

Charles grips the man’s shoulder on a stern expression, “I did have to come. I care about you. I even care about Max. I won’t let you go through this alone. Lewis and Seb wanted to come too but I thought it’d be best if it was just me, they’re thinking of you,” 

“I got their messages. I’ll give them a call later. I’ve just had a thousand other things to deal with,” Daniel grumbles before resting a hand in Charles’ hair, “Thank you kid, for sticking by us, for coming here, for…for just being you,” 

“Who are you talking to?” They both turn to Max who’s only wearing boxers, a duvet wrapped around his shoulders, looking like he hasn’t slept. “What are you doing here, Leclerc?” 

“Max,” Daniel sighs, shooting an apologetic look at the youngest man, “Ignore him,” 

“I’m really sorry, Max,” Charles utters, “I’m sorry it had to come out this way and I’m sorry for everything people are saying. You don’t deserve it,” 

Max stares at him for a few moments before his eyes soften, “There’s nothing anyone can do now. I’ll either lose my seat or I’ll have to race knowing most of my fans hate me because I’m in love with Daniel. I lose either way,” 

“Maxy, it’s going to be okay,” Daniel soothes, walking over to the younger man and wrapping him into a hug, “We are going to get through this together,” 

Charles watches with a smile on his face and is once again filled with disgust at the idea anyone could hate them purely for who they love. 

It wasn’t until he fell in love with Lewis and Sebastian that he accepted his life would not look like he’d imagined it to ten years ago. It was one thing getting used to being attracted to both boys and girls, it was an entirely different thing accepting the inevitable absence of a woman in his life. A girlfriend. A wife. 

In all the stories he read as a child it was a man and a woman. They fell in love and lived happily ever after. There were never any stories for a man who loves men and women but chooses to be with two men. 

It was hard adjusting to new expectations of his life. He would probably never father a child of his own. He would probably never be able to openly love Lewis and Sebastian in half of the countries across the world without fear of repercussions. 

It was hard to accept himself for who he is and he’s still not quite done it yet. The reaction to Max’s and Daniel’s announcement only reminds him that he will never be completely welcome in the sport he’s given his life to. 

“I hate them,” Charles mutters, sighing when the two men look at him in confusion, “I hate them for making you feel like this. I hate them for outing you in such a public way as if it was their right just because you’re race drivers. Why are we not allowed to just be happy?” 

Max gives him a half smile and crosses the hallway, wrapping an arm around him and guiding him to one of Daniel’s sofas, “I am happy, Charles. Things aren’t great at the moment but I’m happy with Daniel. You are happy with Lewis and Seb right?” 

He nods instantly. He’s the happiest he’s ever been. Lewis and Sebastian are his whole life. 

Max grins, “Then that’s all that matters. No one else gets to decide who we love, Charles,” 

“Fuck ‘em all,” Daniel murmurs in agreement, sitting down next to them, “This is going to be hard for a bit but it will all work out,” 

“Why does it have to be hard though?” Charles cries, tugging at his hair, “It wouldn’t be hard if we had a girlfriend so why is it so much harder just because we have boyfriends?” 

Daniel sighs and leans back on the sofa, casting his eyes out of the large window, “People are cruel, kid. They’re narrow minded. I hope it won’t always be like this. There’s good people too though, Charles. There are a lot of people supporting me and Max,” 

“Do you think they would support me, Lewis, and Seb too?” 

“I won’t lie to you kiddo, I don’t know. I hope they would. The most important thing though is that everyone you love will support you. No one else matters,” 

Charles likes boys with broad shoulders and thick necks. He likes girls with long eye lashes and upturned noses. Mostly though he just likes people with warm hearts and loud laughs.

He loves Lewis and Sebastian, and there’s nothing anyone can say that will stop him from doing that for the rest of his life. 
_______________________________________________

Charles looks down at the bowl of curry in front of him. It’s one of his favourite dishes that Lewis makes. The overpowering aroma of spices engulf his nostrils and his mouth waters. 

You don’t deserve it, the voice whispers in his head. He doesn’t get it, the voice is wrong, but he listens anyway. 

The voice instructs him and he obeys like a robot. Prisoners on death row still eat and they’ve done unspeakable things. Charles has made mistakes, he’s said things he shouldn’t, but he’s a good person. 

So why does it feel like he doesn’t deserve to eat? He hasn’t done anything wrong other than exist. The only sin he’s committed is hating himself.

He’s tired of feeling like he weighs everyone else down. He’s tired of feeling like he’s adding water to everyone’s already flooding problems. 

It’s not a desire to be so skinny his ribs poke out of his skin. It’s not a desire to make his already prominent cheek bones razor sharp. Charles knows he’s got a good body; he works out hard everyday for it. 

He doesn’t care about losing weight he just cares about only eating when he deserves it. As if the calories are some kind of twisted reward. 

Sebastian’s hand rests on his own and he glances up to find the soft, blue orbs looking at him, “Are you alright, Charlie? It’s not too spicy, you’ll like it,” 

“I’m not very hungry,” He mumbles, shooting an apologetic look over at the oldest man, “Sorry Lewis,” 

“Don’t be silly, Charlie. It’s fine. Are you sick?” 

Charles feels the relief rush through him when it becomes obvious that the older men aren’t going to interrogate him.

He thinks through the logic in his head; if he goes for a run then he’ll have worked out, he’ll have earned something to eat when he gets back. Just something small though. He can indulge himself when he wins a race again. 

“I think so, I’ve got a headache,” He lies, “I think I’m going to go for a run and clear my head,” 

It’s the wrong thing to say and the older men narrow their eyes on him. They’ve caught on to his lies. 

“You shouldn’t go for a run if you’re not feeling well, Charles. Why don’t you just try and have something to eat? It might make you feel better,” 

He shakes his head, forcing a smile at the Brit. “Eating won’t help but some fresh air probably will,” 

Sebastian sighs and stares at him from across the table, “Don’t start this again, Charles. I thought we’d moved past this,” 

“Start what?” He snaps, standing up from the table on a glare, retreating slightly when the older man rises from his seat. 

“This! Don’t start torturing yourself again! You need to eat, Charles. Sit down and eat, now,” 

Charles groans and folds his arms across his chest, his chin tilting up in defiance, “I’m not feeling very well, Seb. I don’t want anything to eat,” 

The German assesses him, their eyes not leaving each other’s, “Fine. If you’re not feeling well then you shouldn’t be going for a run,” 

“Do you think you can stop me?” 

Sebastian arches an eyebrow in warning and steps toward him, “Try it and see,”

Charles is fairly certain he could sprint past his boyfriend and make it out of the house. He’s a decade younger than the man and he’s always been quicker. 

Still, he’s not dressed for running and he’d only spend the entire hour dreading the argument they’d inevitably have when he got back. 

“You’re so annoying,” He hisses, stalking past the older man and up the stairs. 

“I’m not letting you do this to yourself again, Charles. I love you too much for that,” Sebastian calls after him. 

Charles slams the bedroom door shut and pulls his clothes off, diving into the bed and wrapping himself in the duvet. 

Sometimes he wishes he could just take his head off and put it on the bedside table, go through the day with a little less awareness, and find freedom in not having to think. He wishes he could find peace living in his body instead. 

After almost half an hour of shuffling around in the bed it becomes obvious he’s not going to be able to sleep anytime soon. 

On a sigh he drags himself out and over to the en-suite, plucking up his toothbrush and smearing a line of dentist recommended toothpaste across the bristles. 

The bedroom door opens and he sees Lewis and Sebastian walk in. They both pause at the doorway of the bathroom watching him and he swerves his eyes back down to the sink. 

They stand shoulder-to-shoulder at the sink brushing their teeth. It’s these moments of simple domesticity that Charles loves the most. It reminds him of his childhood when he and Arthur would watch their parents brush their teeth together whilst they waited for them to read the next chapter of whatever book they had been into at the time. 

He glances at them in the mirror only to find their eyes on him before he spits the toothpaste foam into the sink, and rinses his toothbrush and mouth. 

Lewis grabs his arm before he can walk out of the door and Charles doesn’t miss the way his eyes fall to his shirtless abdomen - no doubt noticing the way his body looks slimmer than it had done the week before. 

“If you’re struggling again then we want to help you, Charles. We can’t if you shut us out,” 

“I’m fine, Lewis,” 

Sebastian snorts and he shoots a glare at him. 

“I think you say that so much you might actually believe it,” 

Charles rolls his eyes even though he knows Sebastian is right. He knows he’s not fine, he knows the thoughts that run through his head when there’s food placed in front of him aren’t normal. 

This is something he should deal with on his own though. It’s his problem. So, he wanders back over to the bed without another word and snuggles into the duvet, moving over slightly when the older men get in beside him. 

Sebastian turns off the light and Charles relaxes when strong arms wrap around him from either side. 

“I worry about you, Charlie. I wish you’d just talk to us,” 

Lewis’ whispered words echo in his head and keep him up long after the soft snores of his boyfriends fill the room. 

As soon as he wakes up he knows it’s not going to be a good day. The layers of thick snow coating the vast landscape around Sebastian’s house are just about visible through the gap in the curtains. 

Charles’ plan of going for a ten mile run is blown into smoke. The large home gym Sebastian has would be a reasonable replacement but there’s no way he’ll be able to do ten miles on the treadmill without his boyfriends dragging him off it half way through. 

The pitiful amount of sleep he’d had isn’t the best motivator for a work out but if he wants to eat today then he needs to get some exercise in. 

Slowly rising from the bed he’s relieved when the alarm clock glows in the dark room to show it’s only 5.30am, Lewis and Sebastian won’t be waking up for at least another hour which gives him just enough time to get in some time on the treadmill. 

Knowing if he got changed into some work out clothes it’d likely wake up the older men, he exits the bedroom and stumbles to the gym in only his boxers, pulling on a pair of Sebastian’s running shoes from the box in the corner. 

He programmes the treadmill for a ten mile run then hovers over the button before pushing it to fifteen. 

Charles runs as if his life depends on it, as if the demons in his head are chasing him with knives. There’s no stopping even when his legs start to feel like they’re aren’t attached to his body anymore, and he can feel the burning sensation in his lungs. 

There’s only two miles left and the pain feels almost sickeningly sweet. 

He’s on the last mile when he feels someone grab him from behind and he’s yanked off the machine, coming face to face with a bleary eyed Sebastian. 

Charles glares at the man, wiping the sweat dripping down his forehead off with the back of his hand and breathing heavily. 

“I only had a mile left!” 

Sebastian’s face is thunderous as he scowls back at him, moving to check the numbers on the treadmill and scoffing in anger. 

“Why are you running fifteen miles at 7am? That is not healthy, Charles! You’re destroying your body!” 

“I’m a professional athlete, Sebastian! I need to work out!” 

His boyfriend shakes his head in disbelief and leaves the room. Charles considers getting back on the treadmill to run the last mile but the older man walks back in holding a bottle of water and seems to know what he’s thinking. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Sebastian warns, his voice deceptively quiet as he shoves the bottle of water into Charles’ hands, “Drink this, have a shower and then you need to have some breakfast,” 

Charles never eats breakfast and Sebastian knows that even if he doesn’t like it, so it’s unfair of him to suggest that. 

“I’m tired, Seb. I want to go back to bed. I didn’t sleep very well,” He murmurs, unscrewing the bottle of water and gulping it down. 

Sebastian huffs in exasperation but relents, “Fine. Go and get some sleep,” 

Charles smiles slightly at the small victory despite the glare coming from his boyfriend, and bypasses the man to the bathroom. 

By the time he’s out of the shower the bed is empty and he can hear Lewis and Sebastian muttering downstairs. 

The tiredness that had racked his body this morning is still there but it’s deep enough now that he knows he’ll be able to sleep. 

When he eventually wakes up it’s properly light outside and he arches an eyebrow in surprise when his phone reads 1.40pm. That’s the longest sleep he’s had in a while. 

It’s during the routine post-wake up check of his Twitter that he sees the article. It’s not by anyone important, just some random journalist who probably knows nothing about what it’s like to drive an F1 car. But the words reflect in his eyes and sink heavy in his chest. 

Charles Leclerc will never win a championship. Charles Leclerc is prone to mistakes. A crasher. 

His stomach is growling at him, begging for some food, but the words on the tiny screen only act as a reminder that he doesn’t deserve to eat yet. 

Lewis and Sebastian are in the kitchen when he finally manages to put his phone away and drag himself down the stairs. 

“Did you sleep alright, Charlie?” Lewis asks when he walks in, “We are making lunch. Do you want dressing on your chicken salad?” 

He can feel Sebastian’s eyes on him and he looks over at the man, knowing the answer he’s about to give is going to light a fire in the blue orbs. 

“I’m not very hungry, I’ll have something to eat later,” 

Lewis’ brows furrow and he pauses mid chop of the tomato, “You must be hungry, Charles. You didn’t have any dinner last night,” He retorts sternly, narrowing his eyes, “And you spent the morning in the gym,” 

Charles flicks accusing eyes over at Sebastian, but the man’s gaze doesn’t falter. 

“You’re having something to eat, Charles. Sit down,” 

“Seb, I’m not hungry. I’ll have something later,” 

The older man rounds the kitchen counter and stops in front of him, burning him with the fiery gaze. “You’re having something to eat now. I’m not arguing with you about this,” 

“No, I’m not,” Charles mumbles, averting his eyes from his boyfriend’s heated stare. 

Sebastian’s hand grips his forearm and a long exhale escapees his nose, “Why, Charles? Give me one good reason,” 

“Because I’m not hungry,” 

Sebastian’s grip on his arm tightens, “I don’t believe that. Give me another reason that isn’t a lie,” 

He can feel the tears at the back of his eyes and he closes them briefly, willing the droplets away. “Because I don’t deserve to,” He answers meekly, opening his eyes to find Sebastian and Lewis looking at him in confusion. 

“What do you mean? I don’t understand what that means, Charles. How can you not deserve to eat?” 

Charles scrubs at his eyes, “I’m letting everyone down. I shouldn’t be eating if I’m not racing well,” 

Sebastian let’s go of his arm and drags a hand through his blonde curls, looking back at Lewis in exasperation. 

“Honestly Charles that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” He roars, inhaling a deep breath and calming himself, “There’s no logic to that, Charles. Food isn’t a reward. There’s no deserving food. You need it to live. You especially do because you’re an athlete. If you limit what you eat then you’re not going to get better at racing you will get worse, I can promise you that,” 

“But people are saying I don’t deserve to be a champion! If I don’t deserve to be a world champion then I don’t deserve to eat,” 

Lewis frowns and crosses the room to them, “Who is saying that, Charles? No one I know is saying that. Have you been reading those stupid articles again?” 

Charles nods on a whimper and throws himself into Sebastian’s chest, the man flinches at the unexpected affection but quickly wraps his arms around the slim body, his cheek resting on Charles’ hair. “We’ve told you so many times not to read them, Charlie, and this is exactly why. Racing has nothing to do with this. You eat because you need it. Will there ever be a day when you actually start listening to us?” 

Charles sobs on a watery laugh, “Maybe one day,” 

Sebastian smirks and cups the younger man’s chin, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Let’s start that right now. Charles, you are going to be a world champion. You’re an incredibly talented driver. You are the best thing about Ferrari. You’re amazing and we love you so much,” He praises, narrowing his eyes, “And you are going to sit at the table and have something to eat. Then you’re going to tell me and Lewis exactly what’s been going on in that head of yours because I don’t think you’ve told us everything, okay?” 

Charles looks between the two men and their loving eyes, “Okay,” 

Lewis smiles over at him, “Is salad okay, or do you want something a bit more substantial seeing as you’ve missed a few meals? Seb will probably make his pancakes if you ask nicely,” 

Charles and Lewis share a grin and he looks at their boyfriend with his best puppy dog eyes, “Your pancakes are my favourite ones in the world,” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly and ruffles the younger man’s hair, “Fine. Only because I love you and you’re looking too skinny. You’re having fruit with them though, not the heap loads of Nutella you normally layer them with,” 

Charles’ eyes widen and he wraps his arms around the older man on a pout, “Seb, I like them with Nutella,” 

The German chuckles and tries to push Charles’ arms off him before giving up and poking him in the side so he drops them, “There’s no nutrients in Nutella and you need some vitamins,” He argues, smirking at the look on the younger man’s face, “Stop pouting and sit down so I can make you something to eat,” 

Lewis shuffles over to the side where Sebastian is pulling out the ingredients, “I like your pancakes a lot too, Seb,” He reminds on a grin. 

“We were having a salad!” Sebastian protests, gesturing at the half made bowls on the side. He sighs and tries to keep the grin off his face at the look on Lewis’ face, “Fine, we will all have pancakes for lunch but we are having the salad for dinner,” 

“Thanks Dad,” Lewis quips cheekily, picking up the bowls of salad and moving them into the fridge. 

Sebastian glares at him, “Fuck off,” 

“Thanks Dad,” Charles chirps, hiding his grin behind his hand at the look the older man gives him. “Watch it, Charlie. I’ll get you back for that,” 

Even the threat of Sebastian’s retaliation can’t dampen his mood. For the first time in weeks he’s can feel the hunger in his stomach and not be bothered by it because he knows he’s going to eat his favourite food and then his boyfriends will dispel of all the demons running through his head. 

Lewis and Sebastian make everything okay.
_______________________________________________

He’s never known physical pain like it. It’s as if his entire body is shutting down. The force of the barrier vibrates through his bones, and seeps up to his head. 

There’s a brief moment when it feels like he loses consciousness, everything falls silent. 

“Charles, do you copy? Are you okay?” 

Xavi’s voice through the radio brings him back to the present and he slowly blinks his eyes open with a groan. 

“I’m okay,” He mumbles, then takes a deep breath, “Im sorry,” He starts to choke up as he looks around at the Ferrari fans with their heads in their hands. 

Carlos’ car had given up in the 27th lap and it was all on him to get the win for Ferrari. He could have had it too if he didn’t lose control of the car. 

After what feels like minutes but is probably only a few seconds, there’s marshals surrounding his car. One of them slips their arms in and tries to help pull him out. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

Charles forces a smile despite the pain radiating through his body and the overwhelming disappointment surging in his veins. “I’m fine,” 

“Let’s get you to medical,” Another one says, and Charles is about to argue that he can get there on his own when he realises the only way he can walk is with a marshal on either side of him, supporting his weight. 

The Dutch fans erupt in cheers as he stumbles away from the track, and he closes his eyes desperately trying to shut out their joy at his pain. 

“Ignore them. Real F1 fans don’t cheer when drivers crash,” One of the marshal’s says, turning a filthy look up at the grandstands. 

Charles wishes he could. He wishes his eyes didn’t keep drifting between the orange army celebrating at his loss and the red clothed fans looking down at him in disdain. 

He is the elpresidento but right now it feels like the only thing he’s destined for is failure. 

The fans scream with excitement and Charles glances up at the screens, anger filling his body when he realises Max will now be in first place. If he’d only held on for two more laps that would have been his win. 

One of the marshals stays with him in the medical centre and as much as he appreciates them looking out for him, all he wants right now is to be alone. 

The doctor tells him they are putting him in the ambulance. He doesn’t understand much after that the only words making it through his foggy brain being serious concussion and possible internal bleeding. 

“I’ll go to the hospital later. I need to go to the media pen. I need to apologise to the fans,” is all he replies, and he founders out of the medical centre ignoring the shouts of the doctor and the marshal telling him he could be seriously injured. 

The media pen has never seemed so far away and it’s becoming harder to walk with every step. The pain in his abdomen is too intense and he wraps his arm around his stomach. It’s almost like someone is twisting a knife around in his organs. 

Someone slings an arm around shoulders and he closes his eyes briefly, thankful for the reprieve of not having to keep himself steady anymore. 

He opens them to find Lewis’ eyes drilling into him, “I’m taking you to a hospital. You’re going to be okay, Charlie,” 

Charles groans and pushes him off, stumbling back on his feet and if it wasn’t for the older man’s arms coming out to catch him he’d have collapsed, “Charles, we are going right now,” 

He shakes his head but stops immediately when it feels like his brain is rolling around, “No, I’ll go later. I need to apologise. I’ve let everyone down,” 

Lewis looks furious and opens his mouth to argue only to be interrupted by Sebastian appearing next to them with worried eyes. 

“You really don’t look good, Charles. Let’s go to the hospital and get you checked out,” 

Charles musters up a glare for his boyfriend, “I’m fine! I’ll do a few interviews then I’ll go to the hospital!” 

Sebastian grips him by the arm and pulls him away from the cameras, “Charles, we are going to the hospital right now. I don’t care how many times you say you’re fine! You are swaying on your feet!” 

A whimper escapes his throat when a jolt of pain surges through his body and the older mens’ eyes widen in fear as he caves in on himself. 

Charles releases a long breath and stands up, gritting his teeth, ignoring the way he can feel his body teetering to one side, “I’m fine,” He snaps, turning around too quickly and pivoting on his feet before walking off to the media pen. 

As soon as he arrives there are microphones shoved in his face and he answers their questions as best as he can. 

“I let myself down but more importantly I let the team and the fans down. It was my mistake and I will learn from this. I want to apologise to the Tifosi for…” His words trail off and he can hear himself start to slur. 

“Charles? Are you okay? Have you been checked out?” The woman from Sky Sports asks, reaching her hand over to squeeze his shoulder. 

He lurches to one side when a stabbing pain rises through his left side and she shouts asking for some help. 

The commotion around him doesn’t register in his brain. People are trying to wrap arms around him. People are shouting for an ambulance. 

Lewis, Sebastian, Daniel and Lando’s panicked yells are morphing into white noise and all he can really hear is the ringing in his ears. 

Then everything goes black. 

Lewis watches on in dread as Charles collapses to the floor. He falls to the ground next to Sebastian and Daniel, begging the younger man to open his eyes, to show any sign that he’s okay. 

“Charles, can you hear me? Open your eyes, Charles,” He frets, gently shaking his boyfriend’s shoulders and trying to hold back the tears when there’s no response. 

Sebastian lowers his head to Charles’ mouth and bolts upright, “He’s not breathing! We need medical! Now!” 

Lewis has never heard his boyfriend shout that loud and the silence in the media pen as everyone watches on in fear only makes it seem louder. 

They are pushed aside by three doctors carrying oxygen tanks, a stretcher,  a medical bag, and a defibrillator. He feels the bile rise in his throat when they practically tear off Charles’ race suit. 

“Turn the cameras off now,” One of the doctor’s orders, and Lewis looks around in confusion which turns into rage when he realises there’s an array of cameras filming the scene in front of him. 

He watches as an oxygen mask is placed over Charles’ face and a pair of scissors cut down his fireproofs. There’s gasps around the otherwise silent pen when Charles’ toned abdomen is revealed and it’s almost purple. 

“He’s bleeding internally,” The doctor murmurs, checking Charles’ pulse, “He’s in cardiac arrest, we need to start compressions. Get the machine running,” 

Sebastian looks at him with teary eyes as they stand on completely helpless. Daniel sniffs from beside him and he realises all the drivers are scattered around watching with solemn faces. 

The compressions on Charles’ chest look too hard and he wants to tell them to be more gentle. He wants to tell them they’re going to hurt him and he’d never let anyone hurt Charles. 

The pads are placed on Charles’ chest and he has to look away when they send shocks through his body. He’s never seen his boyfriend look so young and helpless. His body lifts off the ground with each shock and one of the doctors shouts for it to be turned up. 

It’s impossible to put into words the feelings running through his head as he watches Charles on the floor. It’s a pain he’s never felt before and he’s never felt so useless. This is Charles, his boyfriend, his greatest love. It’s Charles lying dead on the floor and there’s nothing he can do but watch and pray. 

He’s never prayed before, he’s never believed in God, never been a fan of religion - but right now he prays. He lets the tears drop down his cheeks and he begs to anyone that’s listening not to take Charles. It’s too soon. He’s 24, barely into adulthood yet. He’s got dreams, hopes, and plans. 

Charles is irreplaceable to him. He gives his life meaning. He showed him what true happiness is and what it means to love someone unconditionally. 

He’s always taken some reassurance from the fact he’s so much older than Charles - even if it’s only because it should have meant he’d have died before him. He would never have to live in a world without Charles Leclerc. Or so he thought.

“I’ve got a heart beat, put him on to the stretcher,” 

Lewis sobs at the words, not bothering to wipe away the tears dripping on to the floor.  They slide Charles onto a stretcher and he can see the heart beats on the machine. 

The medical team rush him off to the ambulance that is on stand by and Lewis grabs one of the doctor’s arms before he can follow after his colleagues, “Is he going to be okay?” 

The doctor glances at him with a straight face and it offers him no comfort at all, “They’ll know more at the hospital,” He starts, sighing when he realises all the drivers are looking at him expectantly, “Look, he’s young and he’s healthy that gives him a fighting chance, but his heart stopped and he’s not conscious. There’s a chance that if he wakes up he won’t be the same person,” 

“Will he be able to race again?” Lando questions, scrubbing at the tears dripping down his cheeks. Lewis is glad he asked because he can’t get anymore words out. 

The doctor grimaces, “It’s hard to say. He’s strong right? It’s impossible to know how something like this can affect someone. He could be fine, or it could cause irreversible damage. We won’t know until tests have been ran,” 

The doctor rushes off and they all look at each other trying to comprehend how the race had ended like this. 

“He’ll be okay right? He has to be okay. I was taking the piss out of him before the race, that can’t be the last thing I say to him. He’s one of my best friends,” Lando cries. 

Lewis wants to comfort the younger man. He wants to pull Lando into a hug and whisper words of reassurance. He can’t though because all he can think about is how he’d been arguing with Charles before he collapsed. He didn’t get to tell him how much he loves him. He didn’t get to promise him he’d always look after him. 

“Hospital,” Sebastian croaks out, and Lewis nods, dragging the man behind him even though it feels like his body isn’t his own. 

-

Sebastian wanders back into Charles’ hospital room, looking over at Lewis who is on a chair next to the bed, half collapsed over Charles’ legs. 

The hallway is bursting with F1 drivers and Ferrari workers. Everyone eagerly waiting on updates of the beloved Monegasque. 

Sebastian had told them what he’d told Charles’ family, the doctor has said there’s no permanent damage to his heart and the surgery has stopped the internal bleeding. It’s a waiting game now for Charles to wake up. 

The steady beeping of the heart monitor is the only sound in the room as he takes the seat next to Lewis, grasping Charles’ lifeless hand in his. 

“He’ll be okay,” He murmurs and he’s not sure who he’s trying to reassure - Lewis or himself. 

Lewis looks at him with a watery smile, “Of course he will. He’s always okay,”

They are lying to each other and they both know it. Neither of them know if Charles will be okay but the hope that he will be is the only thing keeping them from falling apart. 

“I’m going to kill him when he wakes up,” Sebastian mutters on a half smile, “How many times is he going to end up in a hospital this year? They’ll start giving him a discount soon,” 

Lewis grimaces and reaches for the German’s hand, “I hope this is the last time he’s ever in one. I don’t think I can take the stress of it anymore,”

Hours pass by and people bustle in and out of the room. 

Daniel comes in holding a balloon and a box of chocolates, leaving them on the side and leaning down to hug Charles’ body, brushing away his tears that drop onto the younger man’s cheek. He whispers into Charles’ ear, 

“He doesn’t get to have you yet. You belong with us,” 

Mattia mutters words in Italian whilst they glare, daring him to ask why they’re the ones waiting in the room with his driver. Sebastian has never hated anyone as much as he hates Mattia Binotto for the stress he’s put Charles through and he’s more than ready to argue with him. The team principal rests a hand on Charles’ hair and looks between them before leaving. 

Pierre takes one look at his best friend and breaks down in tears. The Frenchman towers over the bed, carding his hand through Charles’ hair. Lewis and Sebastian huff out laughs as Pierre tells them some stories of the trouble Charles used to get into when they were kids. 

Carlos brings them some coffee from the hospital cafe and shakes his head in despair at his teammate in the bed, “Sometimes it’s like he doesn’t care if he lives,” 

Sebastian looks up at him with a resigned expression because Carlos is right. He remembers at the start of the season when Charles was winning every race and the younger man had told him he’d die to be a champion. The words had been said with such force that they’d imprinted on Sebastian’s brain, and as he looks down at the practically lifeless body in the bed he realises Charles meant it. He would die to be a champion. 

Sleep is clawing at his brain by the time it’s dark outside the window but he refuses to take his eyes off his boyfriend.

Just as the exhaustion is about to consume him there’s a groan from the bed and he jumps up, standing over Charles and cupping his cheek. “Charlie, can you hear me?” 

There’s a few moments of silence and Sebastian thinks he’s imagined it until the younger man’s eyes slowly blink open. He’s never been so happy to see green orbs. 

“Seb,” Charles croaks, shuffling slightly and frowning when he notices the endless wires attached to his body, “Where am I?” 

“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re in the hospital. You had a crash but you’re okay,” Sebastian murmurs, pressing wet kisses across Charles’ face, “I love you so much, Charles. I love you so so much,” 

Their voices wake up Lewis and he looks around the room in a daze, “Charlie, thank God,” He chokes, standing up next to the German and kissing the younger man, “I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay,” 

Charles smiles slightly and furrows his brows at the array of balloons, cards, and presents on the table next to him, “Are they for me? Am I hurt?” He panics, lifting his hospital blanket to feel his legs and arms, ensuring they are still attached. 

Sebastian strokes a hand through his hair, “You’re okay now, Charlie. Everything is going to be okay. Are you in pain? I’m going to go and tell the doctor you’re awake,” 

Charles grabs his arm before he can move away, “Tell me what happened first, please,” 

It’s been a while since they’d seen Charles this vulnerable. Sebastian shares a look with Lewis and the older man sighs. 

Lewis grabs Charles’ hands and presses soft kisses to his knuckles, “You went into cardiac arrest, Charles, and you were bleeding internally. You’ve had surgery and you’re okay now. You’re just going to need time to recover,” 

“Cardiac arrest?” Charles murmurs, fiddling with the pads and wires on his chest. Sebastian slaps his hand away on a frown, “Don’t touch them, Charles. They’re monitoring your heart,” 

“Why? I don’t remember anything. The last thing I remember is talking to the reporter,” 

Lewis sighs and sits back down on the chair, resting his hand on the younger man’s arm, “Your heart stopped, Charles. They had to do CPR in the media pen. We could have lost you,” 

“It’ll take more than a cardiac arrest to kill me,” 

Lewis shakes his head and watches as Charles winces when he shifts in the bed, his hand reaching for the tray then falling back to the mattress. 

Lewis stands and pours the water bottle into the waiting cup. “This is serious, Charles. Your heart stopped. Do you understand that? Do you understand that you were dead?” He pushes the cup and straw to the edge of the tray and watches the younger man reach for it. 

Beads of sweat appear on Charles’ forehead, and his hand shake as his fingers close around the plastic. 

Lewis has never seen him like this. He’s seen him every other way. Hungover, wrung out from the flu, exhausted after a week of intensive racing and sponsor commitments, crying when things got too much. But he’s never seen him look weak.

Charles nods, slowly taking in the words before his eyes widen, “Am I going to be able to race next weekend?” 

Lewis’ hand tightens on his arm and Sebastian growls in his throat. 

“Don’t you fucking dare ask that, Charles! You died! Your heart stopped! You were dead and all you can care about is whether you’re racing next weekend!” Sebastian hisses, “Fuck, you are insufferable sometimes!” 

Charles’ eyes widen at the outburst and he fiddles with the hem of the blanket, “I didn’t know it was that bad,” 

“You must have known, Charles! You could barely stand!” Lewis roars, “I’m getting really tired of you walking around like you’re invincible! You’re not! You know better than anyone how dangerous racing can be!” 

Charles’ eyes narrow and Sebastian almost wishes the younger man was still asleep because the last thing he wants to do is argue with him when he’s lying in a hospital bed. 

“Don’t shout at me,” 

Sebastian scoffs on a scowl, “We will shout at you Charles, you cannot keep doing this! You cannot keep sacrificing your health!” 

“Can I race next weekend or not?” The insolence in Charles’ tone pushes Sebastian over the edge and he grips the side of the hospital bed so he doesn’t end up strangling his boyfriend. 

“No you can’t, Charles. The doctor has said you need at least three weeks to recover. One of which will be spent here. Don’t think for one second that we won’t make sure that you spend those two weeks after actually recovering too,” 

Charles gapes at him and shakes his head, tears welling up in his eyes, “I’ll miss races! I can’t win the championship if I miss a race! Seb, you need to talk to the doctor. You need to tell them I’ll be okay,” 

Sebastian’s eyes narrow to slits. “No, Charles. I’m not talking to anyone. You’re going to do what the doctor tells you. I couldn’t care less if you miss a race or if you win the championship. The only thing I care about is making sure you’re alright and that you get better. I’ll tie you to the bed if I have to,” 

“It’s not fair,” 

Lewis scoffs in anger, rising from his seat to tower over his boyfriend, “It’s not fair to us to have to see you in the hospital almost every month! It’s not fair for us to spend our entire lives worrying that you are not looking after yourself! You scared us, Charles. We thought you were dead. Do you know how that felt? It was the worst fucking feeling in the world,” 

Charles pouts and closes his eyes, lying back on the pillows. He does know how that feels. He knows how it feels to lose someone you love with everything you have. It’s a feeling he wouldn’t want anyone else to have to suffer. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for putting you both through this,” 

Lewis sighs and looks at the younger man, taking in his perfect face, “Why didn’t you just go to the hospital, Charles? You risked your life by not going,”

Charles shrugs his shoulders, wincing slightly at the pain, “I didn’t want to let anyone down,” 

“Taking care of yourself is not letting anyone down, Charles,” Lewis bites, “The only thing you should have cared about at that point was getting yourself to a hospital like everyone was telling you to,” 

“The fans though, I lost the race. I needed to say sorry,” Charles retorts meekly, wilting under the heated glare Sebastian shoots him. 

“The fans won’t care about an apology, Charles. They wouldn’t want you to go into cardiac arrest. You owe them your very best and your best means you need to take care of yourself,” 

Charles relents on a nod knowing Sebastian is right. His fans only ever send him love. They only ever want the best for him. 

“Are you two angry at me?” 

Lewis arches an eyebrow at him, “We are livid, but more than anything we are just glad you’re okay,” 

“Still love me more than life itself?” He asks on a wink and a cheeky grin. 

Sebastian snorts, “We love you to the moon and back but sometimes we want to leave you there,” 

Charles pouts and they roll their eyes fondly, muttering things about him lowering their life expectancy before they press featherlight kisses across his face. 

Chapter Text

Sebastian doesn’t take his eyes off his boyfriend. Charles looks both so like himself and so unlike himself.

His dark hair is no longer thick with product so it rests over his forehead, managing to make him look even younger, even more innocent. The normally pale skin seems even more translucent in the bright hospital light.

It’s the wires sticking to his chest and the IV drip extending from his inner arm that make him look like a stranger. Sebastian has never seen Charles look so vulnerable, so powerless.

It’s not the same Charles that sprints away from his chickens, screaming in fear. It’s not the same Charles that runs from room to room in his house searching for his favourite pair of sunglasses.

The stress and exhaustion of the day have managed to catch up with Lewis and the man is sleeping restlessly next to him, leaning half off the chair with the top of his body on the hospital bed. Even asleep his hand hasn’t let go of Charles’ own.

Sebastian keeps one arm stretched across the bed, his hand holding Charles’ and the other resting on Lewis’ nape. It’s an unyielding, protective hold. These are the two people he would spend his entire life looking after.

The door opens and he briefly takes his eyes off the younger man to glance over, expecting it to be the doctor coming in to check Charles’ heart rate again.

He rises to his feet, being careful not to jostle either of his boyfriends when Charles’ mother and brothers walk in.

They look like they’ve seen a ghost and Sebastian suspects it probably feels like they are seeing one. The last time they will have been in the hospital would have been to see Charles’ father, and before that Jules. He remembers visiting the younger man himself and it felt eerily similar to this situation.

Pascale let’s out a sob and crosses the room to the bed, leaning over her son and holding him close, whispering words in French that Sebastian has no chance of understanding.

“Seb,” Lorenzo greets him quietly, pulling him in for a brief hug.

Sebastian pulls back and tugs the youngest Leclerc brother into his arms, carding a hand through his hair when he can feel the slim body shaking with tears. Arthur is younger than his own little brother and Fabian still felt like a child to him, so he’s always felt protective over the young Monegasque.

Fabian and Arthur had met briefly in 2019 whilst in the Ferrari garage and unbeknownst to both him and Charles at the time, the two of them had become close friends. It was then that their two families had started to combine and the relationship between him and Charles only solidified that.

“He’s going to be okay, Arthur. We are just waiting for him to wake up,” Sebastian soothes the younger man, wiping a tear from his cheek when the boy pulls back on a shaky nod of the head.

“I’m scared,”

The last remaining piece of Sebastian’s already shattered heart breaks at the whimpered confession.

Lorenzo wraps an arm around his little brother and forces a smile. “You don’t need to be scared, kiddo. Charles is going to be fine,”

Sebastian can’t help but feel sorry for him. Charles has confided in him how when their father died Lorenzo felt it was his place to become the man of the house. The younger man stood stoic and strong but it’s not hard to miss the subdued fear in his eyes.

“He really will be okay, Lorenzo. The doctor thinks he should be waking up in a few hours,”

Lorenzo closes his eyes briefly and nods, “Thank you, Seb. Thank you for being here with him. You’ve been here a while?”

He shrugs his shoulders on a half smile, gesturing at Lewis’ sleeping body, “Quite a while. We won’t leave him though, not until he’s awake,”

Pascale looks over at them with teary eyes, her hand stroking her son’s hair, “The doctor said he will be okay?”

Despite living in Monaco her whole life Charles’ Mum’s English is very good, Sebastian would argue it might even be better then Charles’.

“The surgery was a success and there’s no damage to his heart. We just need to wait for him to wake up,” Sebastian confirms on a small smile, “He’ll be okay, you know how strong he is,”

She nods slightly, inhaling a long breath and gesturing for her sons to take her place with Charles, before she crosses the room to Sebastian.

Lorenzo and Arthur lean over their brother, whispering in French. Their tears drop down onto Charles’ face and he has to look away at risk of his own falling.

“Thank you for being here with him, Sebastian. I would not have wanted him to be alone,” She murmurs, pulling him in for a tight hug and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “You two must be tired. Lewis obviously is. You should go and get some rest. We will be here for him now,”

“You don’t need to thank me for that, Pascale. We are tired but I don’t want to leave him. I’ll go and get some more chairs so we can all sit down,” He replies, ignoring the look of concern on the woman’s face that all parents seem to have perfected.

One of the nurses directs him to some spare chairs and he carries two of them in, smiling in thanks at Lorenzo when he leaves to get the last one.

The commotion has awoken Lewis by the time he gets back into the room and the older man is sitting next to Pascale, holding her hand and talking in hushed tones.

“You’re awake,” Sebastian comments, pulling up a chair the other side of the hospital bed and opposite his boyfriend, “Are you feeling a bit better now?”

Lewis sighs, “I’ll feel better when he’s awake,” He retorts, gesturing with his head at the younger man in the bed, “I was just telling Pascale that he collapsed in the media pen,”

Sebastian grimaces, “I’m hoping you haven’t had to see any clips of it in the media?”

The older woman’s face hardens and she grips Lewis’ hand tighter, “I’ve seen some. It was the same with our Jules. They record these things as if they’re not people’s sons,” She hisses, wiping away a tear, “I don’t understand why he was not taken to the hospital straight after the race. It could have prevented his heart from stopping,”

Lewis and Sebastian share a look silently debating whether or not they should tell Charles’ mum that her son refused to attend the hospital in favour of his media duties.

“He should have gone to the hospital after the crash. Everyone was telling him to but he decided he wanted to do some interviews first,” Lewis informs her.

“Despite not being able to stand up properly,” Sebastian adds darkly.

“He’s stupid,” Arthur snaps, glaring at his older brother’s unconscious body in the bed, “He’s always been stupid,”

“Arthur,” Pascale chides, “Don’t call your brother stupid,”

Lorenzo snorts with raised eyebrows, “Arthur’s right, Mum. He’s stupid. Why would he do that?”

Pascale huffs out a breath, “You know what Charles is like. I will be having words with him when he wakes up though do not worry. This is the last time anything like this will happen,”

“I just hope he actually listens to you. We can’t seem to get through to him,” Lewis mutters, narrowing his eyes on his boyfriend despite him not being able to see it.

“Oh he will listen to me, I’ll make sure he does,” She turns to her sons on a tight smile, “Boys, why don’t you go and get us all a coffee? Remember that Lewis has oat milk,”

Arthur pouts, “But Mum,”

She glares at her youngest son, “Do not argue with me right now, young man. Go and get us some drinks and then you can sit with Charles until he wakes up,”

Lorenzo begrudgingly stands up, pulling his brother along with him, “Thank you darlings,” Pascale calls after them, turning back to look at Charles with a small smile, “You can’t imagine how much trouble Charles and Arthur were when they were small boys. Lorenzo had been an angel but those two were little devils,”

Sebastian chuckles lowly, thinking of the chaos Charles still manages to cause almost daily, “I don’t think he’s changed too much. He still has a tendency to get himself in trouble,”

She raises her eyes to meet his and they’re dancing with the same bright mischief he sees in the younger man’s almost daily, “He was always lucky because he looked like a little angel so it was impossible to stay angry with him. People used to stop me in the street to tell me what a beautiful son I had and I always told them looks can be deceiving because he’s a little devil,”

“I know that feeling. He just has to look at us and we forget what we were arguing about,” Lewis comments dryly, unable to keep the fond smile off his face.

“You two really love him, hm? He speaks about you a lot. When we talk on the phone, he tells me things. He even tells me about your arguments,” She says, the playful glint in her eye making Lewis wish Charles’ eyes would just open so he could see it in his.

“We don’t argue too much. I hope he doesn’t make it sound like that’s all we do,”

She laughs, “No, of course not. It’s good to argue sometimes though. You only argue with the people you really love. As long as you make up after then it’s okay,”

“I don’t think there will ever be an argument that we won’t be able to get past,”

Pascale hums thoughtfully, stroking her fingers across her son’s hand, “I love Charles with everything I have. He is my precious boy, but I know he has his faults. He is a lot younger than both of you. I know to me he will always be my baby boy, but he is still very young. He will make mistakes but I want you both to remember that you’re older than him and he might not see things the same way as you just yet,”

Sebastian nods, slightly uncomfortable at the way Pascale seems to be staring into his soul, “We do always remember that,”

She squeezes Lewis’ hand and reaches across Charles’ legs to grasp Sebastian’s, “There is no one else I would rather my son love than the two of you. You make him happy and you protect him. It’s all I ever wanted for him. You are a part of our family and that means if you ever need anything we will always be here. Family takes care of family,”

Sebastian can feel his eyes watering and he smiles, “Thank you Pascale, that means a lot. We love Charles very much,”

“I’d never say this to Lorenzo or Arthur but out of all my children’s partners, you two are my favourite. I have five sons now, and I love all of them,”

“We will always do everything we can to protect Charles, Pascale. He is the most important person in our lives,” Lewis whispers, closing his eyes briefly when a tear slips out and he can feel the older woman’s lips press briefly against his cheek.

“When we lost Jules,” She starts on a shuddery breath, and the two men watch her with hesitant eyes, “I wanted to stop him and Arthur racing. Jules was like a son to me and losing him tore me apart but to lose one of my boys, I couldn’t even think about it. It was his Father who convinced me to let him keep racing. He knew Charles would go on to be incredible,”

Sebastian gives her a half smile, “I can’t imagine Charles would have been very happy about stopping,”

“Oh he wouldn’t have been,” She concedes on a breathy laugh, “He was born to be a race driver. Even if I wanted to I don’t think I could ever have stopped him. When we lost Jules and then not long after we lost his father, it was difficult. I knew it changed Charles but he would never let anyone in. I worried about him then and I still worry about him now. He used to be so open with his feelings until life gave him its toughest battles,”

“He’s getting better at letting people in,” Lewis assures her, “We’d never let him go through anything alone,”

“I know you wouldn’t darling,” She pats his thigh gently, “I feel for your poor Mothers. You all get in that car and risk your life and it’s us that stand by holding our breaths just praying you’ll come out alive. Although I suppose that’s how you feel about Charles too,”

“Racing is dangerous, we all know that,” Sebastian tentatively agrees, “But it’s in our blood,”

They are silent for a few moments and Pascale watches over her son before looking back at the German, “You are retiring, no? I imagine that can’t have been an easy decision,”

“It wasn’t but it was the right one. As I explained to Charles and Lewis, it’s the right time,”

“Do you think you could convince Charles to retire with you and put me out of some misery? At least then I will only have to worry about Arthur on the track,”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows at the half smile on the woman’s face, “I don’t think anyone could convince Charles to retire. He’s got at least another ten years of racing left in him,”

“I hope whatever you do next brings you happiness, Sebastian. That is the most important thing in life,”

“I’m already the happiest I’ve ever been and a lot of that is thanks to your son. You raised an amazing young man, Pascale,”

She smiles, “I raised three amazing young men,”

-

Charles rolls his eyes at his boyfriends muttering with each other from beside him trying to figure out how they are going to ensure he recovered at home whilst they will be at the next race.

“When will my mum be here?” He asks, hearing the vulnerability in his voice but being too tired to care.

Sebastian clasps his hand, “She’s on her way from the hotel, sweetheart. She’ll be here soon,”

Charles nods, resting his head back down in the pillows. No matter how old he gets, or whatever he does in life, he will always need his mother.

To truly think about the depths of his mother’s love is breathtaking: she literally loved him before she even knew him and continued to love him even when he didn’t love himself.

He thinks about all of the milestone moments in his life, and it’s no coincidence that she was right there with him through all of them. She is his backbone even if most of the time they’re miles apart.

When the hospital door opens and he sees her walk through, the tears are already spilling down his cheeks. It’s like he’s a little boy again and he’s grazed his knee relying on his mother to take the pain away in a way only she can.

“Charles,” She breathes, rushing over to him and engulfing his upper body in her arms, the comfort reminding him of all the times it felt like the world couldn’t hurt him if he was with her, “My baby boy. I love you, my sweet boy. I love you more than words could say,”

He hides his head in her shoulder, clinging on to her as if she could vanish if he loosens his grip, “I love you, mum,” He sobs.

Lorenzo and Arthur squeeze in beside her and he wraps his arms around them all. Their family has changed through out the years but it has only meant their love is more sacred.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Arthur whimpers, and Charles pulls back from his Mum, tugging Arthur into his arms and pressing a kiss to his hair. He has spent most of his life being protected by the older people around him, but with Arthur he plays the role of protector. It’s a role he takes very seriously.

“I’ll always be okay,” He promises, cradling his brother’s face, “I’ll never leave you, Arthur. I love you,”

“You too, so much,” Arthur sniffles, huffing an annoyed breath when Lorenzo pushes him aside to wrap their brother in his arms.

“I’m so glad to see you, Charles. I love you but I could kill you. How could you refuse to go to the hospital like that? What if you didn’t make it? Do you know that would have done to us?“

The guilt builds in him and he glances over at his boyfriends with an accusing glare, “You told them everything then?”

Lewis shrugs his shoulders looking completely unfazed by the scowl directed at him, “They deserved to know. Hopefully they can talk some sense into you seeing as you won’t listen to us,”

Charles groans, lying back on the bed and wilting at the heated glares coming from his family, “Thanks a lot,” He mutters bitterly.

Pascale slaps him on the arm and he yelps in surprise, “Don’t you go giving Lewis and Sebastian any attitude. They’re trying to look out for you. I know you would never have told us so they had to. If you dare do anything like that again then I will ground you until you’re 30,”

Charles rolls his eyes, “You can’t ground me, mum. I’m 24, I’m not a kid anymore,”

“You will always be my child. I can ground you if I want to. I will phone Mattia and tell him that you won’t be racing anymore races until you’re 30 if you ever risk your life like that again,”

Charles throws an aggrieved look at his boyfriends’ muffled laughter. “I’m sorry, Mum. I won’t do it again,”

Her face softens and she cups his cheek, “I wouldn’t survive if I lost you, my sweet boy. We’ve been through so much, let’s try and spend the rest of our lives being happy,”

Charles nods, the images of Jules and his Father in a hospital bed flashing through his mind. He would never put his family through that again.

“Can you talk to the doctor and see if there’s anyway I can race next weekend, Mum. No one can say no to you. Lewis and Seb aren’t helping me,”

“Charles,” Sebastian warns, “You can’t race next weekend. You need to recover,”

Charles ignores him and looks at his mum with his best puppy dog eyes that widen in shock when she slaps in the arm again, “I will do no such thing! You will spend the next three weeks recovering like you’re supposed to and if I find out from Lewis or Sebastian that you’re giving them any trouble I will be on the first plane to Switzerland to give you an earful,”

He rubs his arm on a pout even though the gentle slap didn’t hurt, “You’re all ganging up on me,”

Lewis and Sebastian roll their eyes at his dramatics, and Pascale runs a hand through his hair, “We all love you, my sweet boy. We are looking after you because you don’t seem to be able to do it yourself,”

Charles folds his arm across his chest, reverting back to the same teenager he was years ago and his mother had been telling him off. A smile pulls at his lips when she kisses his cheek and his boyfriends’ hands clutch his hands.

They’re all his family and there’s nothing more important than family.
_______________________________________________

Charles groans and drops his phone on the table when he’s refreshed all his social media accounts for the fifth time in the last hour.

He’s never been so bored in his life. Time moves excruciatingly slow when you’re confined to a hospital bed for the week. It feels like he’s been here for months when in reality he still has two days left.

His friends visited in the first two days, all of them holding him so tight it felt like they’d snap him in half. Lorenzo, Arthur, and his mum had flown back to Monaco after they’d agreed with his boyfriends that they would call if they needed anything.

His mother had warned him not to take his frustrations out on Lewis and Sebastian but he’s not done a very good job of it so far.

They had been fussing over him all week, only leaving to go back to the hotel at night and then returning bright and early.

Charles knows he should be thankful. He knows he should be appreciative that they are staying with him and looking after him. It had started off that way but there’s only so many times he can hear Lewis ask him if he needs any more pain medication before he loses it.

“Stop moaning, Charles. You’ve only got a couple more days here and then we’ll go back to Switzerland. Are you sure don’t want to play cards?” Sebastian asks looking up from the game of Go Fish he and Lewis are in the middle of.

He shakes his head on a sigh. You’d think that considering he’s in a hospital bed that Lewis and Sebastian would go easy on him and let him win when they played. That’s what he’d thought anyway but after three games of them thrashing him it became obvious they weren’t going to give in.

Losing to Lewis and Sebastian is worse in a hospital bed because when they give him their smug smirks he just has to accept it unlike at home when he can storm out of the room.

“I’m starving,” He moans, feeling his stomach rumble.

Lewis raises his eyebrows, “Well that’s probably because you’re barely eating any of the food they bring you. We told you to eat it, Charles,”

“Hospital food is disgusting. Can’t you go and get me a burger or something? I want real food,”

“You need to be eating healthy, Charles. Your body is recovering so you can’t be filling it with junk food. Do you want me to ask the nurse if she can bring you something to eat?”

Charles pouts at the Brit, “Please can you go and get me something to eat? A burger, a pizza, anything. I’m really hungry,”

Sebastian sighs, standing up, “Fine, I will go to a restaurant and bring you something back, but only if you stop acting like a brat for the rest of the day,”

He folds his arms across his chest on an affronted look, “I’m not acting like a brat! I’m literally in a hospital bed! You two should be nicer to me,”

Lewis scoffs, “You’re the worst patient I’ve ever known and you’re acting like a brat,”

“Fine,” Charles relents, “I’ll stop complaining if you get me something real to eat,” He mutters, then smiles warmly at his boyfriend, “Thank you, Seb,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly and leans over to press a kiss to his forehead, “You’re lucky you’re so cute and that I love you,”

“I am lucky that you love me,” He agrees softly, flicking his eyes to Lewis, “Can you both go? I want to be alone for a bit,”

The hurt that flashes through his boyfriends eyes hits him right in the gut but he pushes it aside, forcing a smile at them.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright? You can push the button if you need a doctor. Don’t not push it because you think you’re annoying them. It’s their job to look after you, Charlie. If you need anything ask them,” Lewis frets, carding a hand through the younger man’s hair.

“I know, Lewis. I won’t be a martyr, don’t worry. Please, go and get yourselves something to eat too. You look like you need it,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “You’re the one who looks like they’re wasting away in that hospital bed. We’ll be quick, Charlie,” He leans down to kiss his boyfriend, “I love you, sweetheart,”

Lewis kisses him after, cupping his cheek, “I love you, Charlie. Get a nurse if you need anything,”

He watches them walk to the door and arches an eyebrow at Sebastian when he stops in the doorway, turning back to him with a glare, “Don’t you dare leave this room, Charles. The doctor said you need to rest. I will find out if you do and trust me you will wish you were still unconscious,”

Charles forces a smile despite being in awe of the way his boyfriend can somehow manage to always read his mind. Surely he can’t be that predictable.

“I’ll stay right here, Seb,”

“I mean it, Charles. Do not leave this room,”

The older man stares at him for a few moments, before following after Lewis.

Charles waits a few minutes until he’s certain that they’ve gone and drags himself out of the bed, cringing as the pain runs through his abdomen.

Lewis had brought his suitcase from his hotel and he delves through it until he finds a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and his trainers.

Luckily the wires and tubes that had seemed like a permanent fixture to his body were taken off yesterday and although the pain aches through him, it’s not enough to keep him this room anymore.

He peeks his head round the door ensuring none of the doctors or nurses looking after him are around before walking out of the room, ignoring the way it feels like he could pass out any minute.

The signs along the hospital corridors direct him to the exit and he sighs in relief when there’s an empty bench out front, bathing under the afternoon sun.

Shuffling over to said bench, he lowers himself down, sitting rather awkwardly to limit the pain in his side.

For the first time all week he finally feels free and he inhales a deep breath of fresh air, smiling at all the people who walk by.

The plan had been to sit outside for five minutes, just enough time to keep his sanity but short enough that he wouldn’t risk anyone finding it.

As with most plans though it falls through and without even realising it he sits there for almost half an hour.

The sun warms his skin and he casts his eyes around the hospital car park, watching people go about their lives.

His body stills when he spots two very familiar faces, carrying a large bag and they stop in their tracks staring at him.

Charles curses under his breath, stumbling to his feet when Lewis and Sebastian start storming over to him looking like they’re ready to put him in the hospital for another week.

He turns away from them and jogs back to his room, stopping a few times when he becomes too breathless.

Practically diving into his hospital room, he lunges into the bed and pulls the thin sheets up over his body, before quickly discarding of his t-shirt, throwing it on top of his open suitcase.

It’s only a few seconds later when the door swings open and the older men barrel through. Sebastian drops the bag of food on the table and leans over him with eyes so dark that Charles has to wonder whether they were ever blue.

“I fucking said - I said do not leave this room! I should have known better to ever think you’d ever listen to me or the doctors! You think you know better than everyone! You don’t, Charles! It’s your fucking stubbornness that has put you here in the first place!”

Charles’ eyes widen and he does his best to look as innocent as he can, “What are you talking about? I was here the whole time,”

“Charles!” Lewis snaps, “Do not even try that. We saw you and I know you saw us. What is wrong with you?! You are in hospital recovering from cardiac arrest and internal bleeding but you still can’t do as you’re told!”

He laughs nervously, “Lewis, I was literally here the whole time. I don’t know who you think you saw but it wasn’t me. It must have just been someone else who is really good looking,”

“You,” Sebastian growls, inhaling a calming breath, “You are fucking unbelievable. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to drive me as insane as you do,”

Charles smirks slightly, “It’s one of my many talents,”

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Charles! You cannot just ignore what the doctor says! You need to stay in bed because your body isn’t ready to be up yet! You could have really hurt yourself! You could have killed yourself!”

He rolls his eyes at the Brit’s dramatics. His body might be aching a lot more now but he definitely wouldn’t have killed himself.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been here the whole time,” He replies slowly, as if he’s talking to a child.

Sebastian grips his arm, scowling at him with more fury than he’s ever seen on the man before, “Stop lying, Charles! Do you want me to go and tell the doctor that you took it upon yourself to go for a walk? Will you listen to her since you so obviously won’t listen to us? Should I ring your mum and have her come back here so she can watch as her son continues to risk his life?“

His boyfriend’s heated words reverberate through him, and the image of his mum crying as she held him in the hospital bed flashes through his head.

He looks down at his hands in his lap, “I’m sorry. I feel like I’m losing my mind in here. I needed to get out for a bit,”

“That’s not a good enough reason, Charles!“ Lewis barks, “We’ve been losing our minds for the past week too! You’re in the hospital because you almost died. Your doctor didn’t tell you not to put any strain on your body just to annoy you! She said it because she’s a professional and she knows best!”

“I know,” Charles murmurs, “I’m sorry. It’s just hard,”

“Do you understand that you cannot do this again, Charles? That you cannot just ignore what the doctor tells you? Or do you still think you know best?”

“I won’t do it again,”

Lewis sighs, sitting down on the chair and stroking a thumb across his hand, “I know it’s not easy for you to lie in this bed all the time, it wouldn’t be fun for anyone but for someone like you who can’t sit still for even a second it must be worse. It’s necessary though, Charlie,”

“It’s torture,” He agrees, on a small smile.

Sebastian snorts and drops down on the seat next to Lewis, narrowing his eyes on the younger man, “No, torture will be what I do to you as soon as you’re feeling better and I get my payback for all the stress you’ve put me through,”

“That’s not fair,” Charles murmurs, pouting at the older man.

“I’ve got a grey hair, Charles!” Sebastian exclaims, pointing at the very much blonde curls on his head, “I’m 35 but because of the stress I’ve got a grey hair,”

“You already had greys hairs before this,”

The German levels him with a look that he’s seen on the man’s face too many times before, “I’ll remember you saying that and trust me as soon as you’re better, you’ll regret it,”

The threat should be enough to make him shut up but he can see the smile tugging at Sebastian’s lips and it’s been a while since they’ve joked around. The last week has been nothing but pain and tears.

“I’m pretty confident you won’t remember this. Your memory isn’t what it used to be,”

Sebastian shakes his head trying to hide the smile, before he stands up and cradles Charles’ face, pressing a kiss to his lips on a grin, “You’re such a little demon, but you’re our demon. Please don’t ever do this to me again. I won’t survive it, Charlie,”

Charles smiles, “I’ll do my very best to never put you through this again, Seb,”

Lewis kisses his cheek and stands up, moving to the other side of the room to retrieve the bag of food.

“We got you a burger and some fries,” He announces, digging out the food and placing it on the table in front of his boyfriend, “We even got you a milkshake. I know that chocolate is your -“

Charles groans, interrupting Lewis’ explanation, “You got me strawberry? I like chocolate,”

“Mein Gott, Charles. I’m going to throw you out of that window in a minute,” Sebastian hisses, running a hand down the side of his face in exasperation.

“As I was saying,” Lewis grates, glaring down at the younger man, “I know chocolate is your favourite but they didn’t have it so you had to have strawberry. Although considering what a brat you’re being I don’t know if you deserve it,”

Charles’ eyes widen and he snatches the milkshake off the table, sucking it through the straw and smiling, “I like strawberry. Thank you,”

“Hm, you’re welcome, Charlie,” Lewis murmurs on a smirk, rolling his eyes, “Eat your food before it goes cold,”

They finish off their food quickly, Charles giving half his fries to Sebastian when he can’t eat anymore.

“How about I speak to the doctor and see if we can get you a wheelchair so we can go sit outside for a bit?“ Lewis suggests, rolling his eyes at the look of disgust on his boyfriend’s face.

“I’m not getting in a wheelchair! I drive race cars!”

Sebastian folds his arms across his chest, arching an eyebrow, “You have two choices, we can take you outside in a wheelchair or you can spend the next two days in this room? Don’t think for a second that we’ll be leaving again either and you’ll be able to escape. We know better now,”

Charles ducks his head at the accusing tone and smiles slightly, “A wheelchair would probably be okay. Just don’t push me down any hills,”

Lewis snorts, “We’ll see how much you annoy us once we are out there,”
_______________________________________________

Charles drags the towel through his damp hair before pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The stress of the day has left him reeling and even a shower hasn’t gotten rid of the exhaustion.

Xavi had informed him Carlos confronted Mattia earlier in the morning about the mistakes the strategists have been making. The discussion had ended with Mattia warning Carlos if he was to speak out against the team again then his contract would be at risk.

His teammate had cornered him in his drivers room, pleading with him to take a stand against the team so that they would actually have a chance at the championship.

Charles hadn’t known what to say or do, and he still doesn’t. It’s not like he’s not frustrated with the strategy calls, they have lost him more points than he likes to think about.

But, Ferrari is in his blood. They are his team and the idea of going against them makes him feel uneasy. He is their son. They are his life. They have given him everything.

He has given them his everything too though and they have constantly let him down. Carlos is his teammate and they should stand together in times like this.

The internal battle has been pounding away in his head all day and after realising that maybe he can’t figure this one out on his own, there’s only two people he knows could help him.

Lewis and Sebastian are draped across the sofa, watching the news on the TV and murmuring about the state of UK politics.

He walks in and drops between them, their arms automatically coming out to hold him. As if they can’t be that close and not touching him.

“Everything okay, Charlie? You’ve been a bit quiet tonight. You seem like you’re lost in your head,” Lewis murmurs, pulling the younger man’s body back so he’s wrapped in his arms.

“I’m fine,” Charles replies automatically, closing his eyes briefly and looking between them, “Actually I was wondering if I could talk to you both about something,”

Lewis’ and Sebastian’s eyes widen and they look at each other in shock.

Sebastian can’t remember a time Charles has ever come to them. It’s always them having to drag the worries out of him.

He squeezes his boyfriend’s knee and smiles, “Of course you can, sweetheart. You can talk to us about anything, you know that,”

Charles nods slightly, “Things are difficult in Ferrari at the moment,”

“Okay,” Lewis smiles encouragingly, “What’s going on, Charlie? Why are things difficult?”

“Carlos went to Mattia and told him something needs to be done about the strategists,”

Sebastian snorts, “That can’t have gone well. Ferrari don’t take well to their drivers criticising them, even if it is internally,”

Charles grimaces, “It didn’t go well. Mattia told Carlos that if he goes against the team again then they might end his contract,”

“Well that’s not very fair. Carlos is allowed to have his own opinions, especially ones that everyone else in the world agrees with,” Lewis mutters, “Have you spoken to him about it?”

“He came to me today and asked me to speak to Mattia with him. He thinks that if we are both saying it then they’ll have no choice but to listen. They can’t lose us both,”

Sebastian nods knowingly, cupping the younger man’s cheek, “And you’re not sure if you want to do that because you don’t want to go against the team,”

Charles looks at him with thankful eyes. His boyfriend has always managed to know exactly what he’s thinking.

The German smiles, “That is difficult, Charlie. Do you remember what I said to you on my last day in Ferrari?”

“You said I was the most talented driver you’d ever met and that I’d go onto break records,” Charles grins, recalling the words his boyfriend had uttered to him in the privacy of his drivers room.

“I did say that,” Sebastian agrees, poking the younger man in the side at the cheeky, cocky grin on his face, “But I said something else too,”

Charles closes his eyes briefly, already knowing what Sebastian is referring to. The words were the last thing his teammate had said to him before he’d left Ferrari for good.

They’d imprinted on his brain and Charles thought about them everyday.

“Don’t let them screw you over, they need you,” He recites quietly, opening his eyes to be met with his boyfriend’s ocean blue ones.

“I still mean that, Charles, and I don’t want to be harsh with you but you haven’t listened. They’re screwing you over and you’re not doing anything about it,”

“We are doing the best we can, Sebastian,” Charles hisses, feeling the PR training and loyalty that is so engrained in his bones seeping through.

He has to defend Ferrari until the very end.

Sebastian rolls his eyes, and Charles is very much regretting bringing this up with a man who outwardly despises the red team.

“Stop protecting them, Charles. They don’t protect you. They fuck you over almost every race and you let them. Carlos is right, you need to stand together. You both deserve better than that,”

Lewis shoots the man a warning look and combs calming fingers through Charles’ hair when it looks like he’s going to kick off, “It’s not an easy thing to go against your team, Charles. I know that it’s not something I’d be able to do easily, but I would do it if it was necessary and I think it probably is for you,”

Charles’ eyes flick to his and Lewis feels a surge of protectiveness at the way they look so young and vulnerable. They’re so different to the steely orbs of determination before a qualifying. These are the eyes of a boy who is out of his depth.

“You think I should tell Mattia we need new strategists?” Charles asks, the words so quiet he almost can’t hear them.

“You won’t ever win a championship if things stay the same as they are now, Charles,” Sebastian interjects, shrugging his shoulders when they look at him in annoyance.

“Jesus, Seb. Do you have to be such a dick about it?“ Lewis snaps, pressing a kiss to Charles’ cheek.

“I’m sorry but it’s true. Charles, you know I love you and you know I think you’re an incredible driver, but you have never been someone that will tell your team what they need to hear. I know that you think you owe them or whatever, but I’m telling you that you don’t. You are the one with the talent and they should be doing everything they can to support you in that. You deserve so much better. If I were you I wouldn’t even stay with Ferrari for much longer, I’m sure Lewis would recommend you for his seat when he retires,”

“I would never leave Ferrari!” Charles exclaims, shooting heated eyes at his boyfriend, “I could never do that! I owe it to Jules! To my father! They got rid of you, Seb, you didn’t leave!”

Sebastian levels him with a glare, “I’m aware of that thank you, Charles,” He hisses, before he sighs and his face softens, “That’s why I said that’s what I’d do if I was you. I’m not you though and I know to you Ferrari is your only choice. So, if you’re going to stay with them then you need to make some changes,”

“Seb is right,” Lewis murmurs, rolling his eyes at the smirk and arched eyebrow on the German’s face, “Ferrari need you, Charles. You’re the one that they will listen to. You’re their Prince. Do you want new strategists?”

Charles nods, looking down at his lap, until Lewis grabs his chin forcing their eyes to meet, “Then you need to tell Mattia that. You and Carlos together. When things are tough you need a teammate you can rely on and you two need to be that for each other,”

“Not like you and Nico then,” Charles mutters on a small grin, and Lewis mockingly narrows his eyes.

“No, not like me and Nico. I want you to learn from my mistakes, Charles. You can do it better,”

Charles nods, knowing that there’s only one option. Carlos is his teammate and they both deserve better than what they’re getting.

“Can I have a hug?” He asks, looking between them on a pout.

Sebastian rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around him, “You know you don’t even need to ask that,”

“Thanks for you know listening to me and helping me,” Charles murmurs on a sheepish smile.

“We’ll always help you however we can, Charles. You might call us old but at least that means we’ve got the experience to advise you on these things,” Lewis drawls, poking him in the ribs.

“You can come to us with anything, Charlie. We’ll always be here,” Sebastian promises, resting his cheek on Charles’ damp hair and breathing in the comforting scent of his shampoo, “We love you so much,”

Lewis pulls back to look at the younger man with raised eyebrows, “Doesn’t it feel better to talk about things rather than keeping them inside and letting them weigh you down? I hope this is the start of something, Charlie. I hope you realise that we will always listen, no matter what it’s about,”

“I guess,” Charles mutters on a smirk that morphs into a full blown grin when the older men narrow their eyes on him.

“This is how you’re supposed to deal with issues, Charlie. You tell us and we will do everything we can to help you. We do know quite a lot you know. We’ve got an extra decade of experience that you don’t have yet,” Sebastian drawls, ruffling his boyfriend’s hair.

“You can just say you’re old, Seb. You don’t have to say experienced,”

Sebastian’s eyes narrow to slits, a smirk appears on his face, and the heated look is enough to make Charles shrug off their arms and jump off the sofa.

“I’d run if I were you,”

It’s all the encouragement he needs and Charles sprints out of the room, squealing when he hears heavy footsteps pounding after him.

Chapter Text

Charles is drunk. No, he’s wasted. The inside of Lewis’ hotel room is blurry as he stumbles through the door, clinging onto his boyfriends to keep himself barely standing.

The older men are laughing, holding him upright. They’re drunk enough that him being almost paralytic is funny - rather than a reason to lecture him like it would be if they were sober.

Lewis and Sebastian drop him onto the bed, quickly discarding of their clothes, stumbling as they kick off their trousers.

“Do you need help getting undressed?” Lewis asks, the slight slur in his voice a clear indication he’s had plenty to drink.

Charles can’t form any words, it’s like he can’t remember how to talk. He can’t nod his head without feeling like everything is spinning. Instead, he closes his eyes praying for sleep to come.

This isn’t a good level of drunk. This is the type of drunk where his limbs feel so heavy they’re weighing him down. There’s a taste of bile in his mouth from when he had to stop down a side street on the way back to throw up half the tequila shots he’d inhaled.

Four hands work their way down his body, clumsily pulling off his clothes. It’s like he’s a rag doll and has no control over anything. They pull him up, slide his legs out of his jeans as if they’re puppet masters.

There’s a hand down his boxers, teasing him. It’s Sebastian’s hand, and he opens his eyes to see Lewis and Sebastian kissing above him, the German’s hand moving up and down his cock.

This isn’t what he wants. There’s no way he can do anything like this tonight. All he wants is to cuddle up in the duvet so he can fall asleep.

“Stop,” He murmurs, it’s so slurred that it sounds like nothing. Lewis and Sebastian are too focused on the other to hear him.

Charles pushes himself up slightly, leaning back on one arm and inhaling a deep breath so he doesn’t throw up the remainder of the alcohol soaked in his body. The slight movement making his stomach flip.

He grabs Sebastian’s hand, pulling it out from his boxers. The older man carries on kissing Lewis, their mouths moving down each other’s bodies.

And then his hand goes back into Charles’ boxers.

Charles considers just letting them do what they want to him and hoping it’ll be over quickly. The two older men never last very long when they’re drunk. It’d be easier than trying to convince them he isn’t in the mood.

No, that’s not right.

He snaps out of that pathetic train of thought. Lewis and Sebastian would never want him to feel forced. He doesn’t have to do anything and right now he just wants to sleep.

“Stop,” His voice is louder now, clearer. The annoyance at his boyfriend seeming to completely ignore the fact he’s not into this riling him up enough to speak properly.

The older men pull apart from each other and look down at him with frowns.

“Don’t be like that, Charlie. You obviously want to,” Sebastian says, his voice condescendingly sweet as his hands pumps up and down Charles’ erect cock, “See?”

He doesn’t want this. His body is betraying him. It’s the natural reaction whenever he’s anywhere near either of his boyfriends and they’re almost naked, grinding against him.

“I don’t, please, stop,” He begs his voice cracking, the anger has been replaced with exhaustion. He just wants to sleep.

“Seb. Get off him,” Lewis hisses, sounding the most sober Charles has heard him since the start of the night.

The hand in his boxers starts to feel like it’s burning him and Sebastian’s grin is making him feel sick, “Fucking stop! I said stop!”

Something flicks in Sebastian’s eyes and he instantly pulls his hand back, looking like Charles has just slapped him.

“I said stop. Why didn’t you stop?” There’s tears in his eyes now, and he stares up at the older man, for the first time in their relationship not trusting him.

Sebastian stares at him, gaping as he shakes his head, uttering out words, “I didn’t think you meant it. I’m sorry - I’m really - fuck I’m sorry Charles. I’m drunk - I wasn’t - I wasn’t thinking properly,”

Charles scoffs in anger, pulling himself up to perch on the edge of the bed, swaying slightly as he does and resting all his body weight on one arm, “I’m drunker and I said to stop,” He stands up, wobbling on his feet. Sebastian’s arm come out to grab him and he pushes them off on a scowl, “Don’t touch me,”

Sebastian recoils, looking between him and Lewis with wide eyes, “Charlie, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you meant it,”

He doesn’t even bother to dignify that with a response because who is Sebastian to decide when he means something or not.

His feet aren’t cooperating with his body as he tries to walk out of the bedroom, swaying from side to side.

“Where are you going? Charles, you need to go to sleep,” Sebastian murmurs, grasping his arms and trying to guide him back over to the bed.

Charles pushes him off, only ending up falling onto the floor. He glares up at the older man who is looking at him as if he’s some kind of injured animal.

Normally he lives for Sebastian’s touches. They drag him out of his thoughts. They light his body on fire.

Right now though he doesn’t want the man anywhere near him. He feels used. He feels disgusted. And when Sebastian leans down to try and help him off the floor, he kicks out his leg pushing the man away.

“Don’t fucking touch me. I’m going to sleep on the sofa,”

“Charles, don’t be ridiculous. Just get in the bed,”

Lewis looks down at him and the man’s eyes are full of regret. “Can I help you get up? I’ll help you to the sofa,”

Charles assesses him, searching his eyes for an ulterior motive but not finding one. He nods and Lewis wraps strong arms around his waist, pulling him up to a standing position.

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” The man whispers, pulling him into his side so he can practically carry him out of the room.

Sebastian moves to stand in their way, blocking the door with stricken eyes, “Charlie, come on, I’m sorry. I made a mistake. Come to bed, please. We’re just going to sleep,”

“Seb, move out of the way. If he wants to sleep on the sofa then let him,” Lewis insists, using the arm that isn’t holding his boyfriend up to push Sebastian out of the way.

“I’m really sorry, Charlie. I love you, sweetheart,” Sebastian mumbles, stepping out of their way and watching them go. The anger and disgust at himself making his skin crawl.

Lewis gently lowers the younger man to the sofa, pulling the blanket that’s hanging over the back on to the slim body. “Do you want a glass of water, Charlie?”

Charles nods mutely, watching his boyfriend move to the kitchen and fill up a large glass before carrying it back over and handing it to him.

Lewis’ crouches down in front of him, his hand resting on his hair, and his thumb twirling in the product filled strands, “Are you alright? I know Seb went too far but he’s drunk, Charlie. He’d never want you to feel like he forced you into anything,”

Charles gulps down the last mouthful of water, placing the glass on the floor, “He should have stopped when I said to. I was scared,”

“Oh Charlie,” Lewis murmurs, leaning over to wrap him in a hug, “I’m sorry you were scared. Seb would never want you to be scared. He should have stopped, I think he got the wrong idea. It’s not an excuse but I know he would never want you to feel like this,”

“I know he wouldn’t. I just don’t want to see him right now. I’ll be fine in the morning. I need to sleep,”

“Do you want me to sleep out here with you? I think my back will survive one night on the sofa,”

Charles shakes his head on a half smile, “I think I want to be alone,”

Lewis nods, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you want. We’ll be in the other room if you need anything, and just get into the bed if you decide you want to. I love you, Charlie,”

“You too,” Charles breathes, turning away from the man and curling in on himself.

Lewis stands up, carding a hand through his boyfriend’s dark hair, before walking back into the bedroom to find Sebastian perched on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

“Let’s go to bed, Seb,” Lewis mutters, wrapping an arm around the man and pressing a kiss to his hair.

“Is Charlie alright? I feel sick. I didn’t think he meant it, Lewis,”

“He said to stop, Seb,” Lewis replies sternly, cupping the man’s cheek, “I know you weren’t thinking properly but you should have stopped. He’s really drunk, and he’s scared, Seb,”

“Fuck,” Sebastian cries, lying back on the bed, covering his eyes with his forearm, “I hate myself. What if he doesn’t forgive me? What if he leaves?”

Lewis sighs, “He won’t leave and he will forgive you but you’re going to have to let him be for now. Things went too far tonight. I can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now. Let’s just go to sleep and we can talk about it in the morning,”

Charles wakes up with a pounding head, a dry mouth, and the smell of hot chocolate filling his nostrils.

The restless sleep on the sofa has left a knot in his back.

Blinking one eye open he sees a mug of hot chocolate on the table in front of him topped with whipped cream, marshmallows, and even some chocolate sprinkled over the top. He knows who made it but he doesn’t want to say thank you. He doesn’t want to say anything.

On a groan he drags his body upright and leans forward, dry heaving when the movement causes his stomach to flip.

“You look fresh,”

Lewis’ teasing voice makes him groan again and he glances over to the men sitting at the kitchen counter.

“Fuck off,” He spits, picking up the hot chocolate and taking a tentative sip. It doesn’t make him want to throw up so he gulps a few more swigs.

“I thought you didn’t get hangovers? Something about you being young and in the prime of your life?”

Charles rolls his eyes at the glee in Lewis’ voice. He had said those exact words to both his boyfriends the last time they woke up with a hangover from a night of drinking and he’d been fine.

Last night was a different level of drunk though and he is very much feeling it today.

“Leave me alone,” Charles mutters, standing up on shaky legs and walking over to the kitchen, holding out his palm expectantly, “I need paracetamol,”

Sebastian picks up a pack from a shopping bag on the table and holds it out on hesitant eyes, “Charlie, we need to talk about what happened last night. I’m really sorry,”

Charles closes his eyes briefly, “I really don’t want to talk. I think I’m dying,”

Lewis snorts, “You’re so pathetic. It’s a hangover. You’ll survive,” He shoves a finger in his boyfriend’s side and Charles jumps back on a glare, “Don’t. I’m serious. I’ll be sick,”

“My poor baby,” Lewis teases, picking up a half full glass of water from the table and holding it out, “Come on, have some paracetamol and then we do actually need to talk. We can’t avoid this,”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Charles snaps, popping two pills into his hand and throwing them in his mouth with some water.

“You can’t even look at me, Charles,” Sebastian whispers.

Charles freezes, swallowing his mouthful, and looking down at the floor.

He raises heated eyes to the older man, “I can look at you, I just don’t want to,”

“Charles, please,” Sebastian cries, reaching out to cup the younger man’s cheek, pulling back when Charles’ eyes darken, “I really am sorry. We’ve had sex loads of times when we’ve been drunk. I - I just thought it was going to be like that. I didn’t think you actually wanted to stop,”

“Do you know what stop means?” Charles hisses, crowding the older man, his eyes shining with anger, “If you know what stop means then you should have done that,”

“I know I should have. I was wrong. I’ll never do it again. I never want you to feel scared and I hate myself for making you feel like that. I would never force you into anything. I love you, I love you so fucking much,”

“Do you try to rape people you love?” Charles barks, a sob escaping his mouth as he turns around to inhale a deep breath, scrubbing at his eyes.

The words hit Sebastian like a truck and he pulls at his hair, tears forming in his eyes.

“Fuck, Charles!” He cries, “I didn’t try to rape you! I would never do that! Please, look at me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

Lewis moves to stand in front of the younger man, cupping his face and wiping away the tears that stain his cheeks, “Charlie, sweetheart, it’s okay. Seb would never force you to do anything. He’s in the wrong here but we were all drunk and things got a bit blurred. I’d never let anyone hurt you, you know that,”

“I’d never hurt him, Lewis! You’re not making this any better!” Sebastian snaps, standing up and pushing Lewis aside to try and meet Charles’ eyes.

Lewis glares at him, “I know you’d never hurt him but what you did was wrong, Sebastian! I don’t want him feeling like that was okay because it wasn’t!”

The German takes his eyes off the younger man, turning to Lewis with so much unfiltered anger red steam could be coming out of his ears, “I know it was wrong and I’m trying to apologise to him! Can you just back off and let me talk to him?”

“I’m staying with him,”

“Stop!” Charles snaps, looking between them on a roll of the eyes, “Stop talking about me like I’m not here. Neither of you are making me feel any better,”

Lewis and Sebastian drop their eyes to the floor in shame. Sebastian edges toward the younger man, “I’m sorry, Charles. I’m sorry for last night and I’m sorry we are acting like this. You are the only person that matters right now,”

“You are,” Lewis agrees, resting his hand on Charles’ hair, “What do you need, Charlie?”

Charles sighs, knocking his boyfriend’s hand away and running a hand through his hair, making it stick up in every direction, “Seb, you can never do that again. I didn’t want to have sex. I was too drunk. You should have respected that,”

Sebastian nods vehemently, “You’re completely right, sweetheart. I am in the wrong here. It will never happen again. I would do anything to protect you and last night I didn’t do that. I’m sorry. You are everything to me, I love you,”

“I know you do,” Charles breathes, smiling slightly, “It’s okay. I know it was a mistake. Let’s not mention it again. I feel like shit and all this shouting isn’t helping my headache,”

“Well that’s what you get for drinking an entire bottle of tequila. I did tell you last night it wouldn’t end well but you just called me old and boring,” Sebastian smirks, arching an eyebrow at the younger man’s glare, “Can I give you a hug? You look like you need one,”

“I do,” Charles murmurs, falling into his boyfriends chest, immediately relaxing when Sebastian’s arm wrap around him.

“I’m always going to protect you, Charles. There’s nothing I won’t do for you, okay?” Sebastian whispers into his hair, “From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry. If you don’t want to fly back to Switzerland with us later then I will completely understand,”

“I’m still coming,” Charles mumbles into the man’s shoulder, “You need to make it up to me anyway so I’m expecting to be treated like royalty,”

Sebastian pulls back on a small smile, cupping his cheek, “Anything for the Ferrari Prince,”

Lewis watches them on a small smile, “Are we all good?”

Charles nods and Sebastian kisses him, wrapping an arm around the older man, “We are all good,”

“Does that mean we can start making Charlie suffer through his hangover?”

“No,” Charles snaps at the Brit, “I’m feeling very fragile. How are you two not hungover? It’s not fair,”

“We didn’t drink anywhere near as much as you because we are sensible,” Sebastian reminds him on a mischievous grin, “You know how when me and Lewis are hungover you think it’s hilarious to shout and practically attack us?”

“No?” Charles lies, trying to hold back a smirk as the memories of Lewis and Sebastian screaming at him to leave them alone come rushing through his mind.

“I think you do, Charlie,” Lewis grins, poking him in the stomach, and glancing at Sebastian, “Is it time to get our payback?”

“It’s time,” Sebastian confirms on a grin, laughing when Charles’ head drops to his shoulder on a groan.
_______________________________________________

Sebastian likes Pierre. He really does. He liked him long before him and Charles were a thing and he’ll always like him.

He’s a good kid and a good friend to Charles.

Still, there’s something slightly disarming about how close the two drivers are. Charles talks about Pierre like he put the stars in the sky, and he looks at him like he’s some kind of saint.

And now when they are wrapped around each other, their faces a mere inch apart, Sebastian can’t help but wonder if Charles thinks of him in a way that isn’t solely friendship.

“Do you ever think there could be something between them?” He murmurs, nudging Lewis in the side with his elbow.

Lewis’ eyes land on the two young drivers, their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, laughing along with Daniel. “They’re just best friends, Seb. They’ve known each other their whole lives. They remind me of us when we were their age, it’s good to have genuine friends on the grid,”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, “They remind me of us too and look where we are now,”

Lewis frowns, “Hasn’t Pierre just broken up with his girlfriend? I’m pretty sure he’s straight,”

“Charles had just broken up with his girlfriend when I started sleeping with him,”

“Seb,” Lewis sighs, “I think if something was going to happen between them it probably would have happened by now,”

“I know, I know. It’s just they’re practically the same age, and they have so much in common. Charles thinks the world of Pierre. I just wonder sometimes if he ever wanted something to happen between them,”

Lewis looks at him in a way that makes him think he’s acting crazy so he just sighs and changes the topic to the new tomatoes he wants to grow.

“Charles, stop messing about. You know that’s not your room,” Lewis hisses, grabbing the giggling mess who in his drunken state seems to think it’s hilarious to knock on random people’s hotel room doors.

Sebastian pulls out his key to Charles’ room, opening the door and pulling the younger man inside before one of the doors he’s knocked on opens and they’re met with a very pissed off Ferrari mechanic.

“You’re such a menace,” He mutters, forcing his boyfriend down onto the sofa, whilst Lewis fetches a bottle of water.

“Pierre would have thought it was funny,” Charles quips, leaning back on the sofa with a cheeky grin.

“Well he’s just as much of a menace as you then,” Sebastian drawls, sitting down next to his boyfriend and wrapping an arm around his neck, pulling him into his side.

“That’s why I love him,”

Something about the flippant way Charles says he loves Pierre makes Sebastian flinch. He stares at the younger man’s side profile until he’s met with an arched eyebrow and an infuriating smirk, “What are you staring at me for?”

He remembers how long it took Charles to say those three words to him. How when the younger man eventually did, it almost felt like they were dragged out of him.

And he knows Charles and Pierre are best friends. He knows that they’ve been that way for almost two decades but it’s something about the way Charles seems so carefree, so happy, around the Frenchman.

Or how when he talks about him his eyes light up in way Sebastian can only hope they do if he’s talking about him and Lewis.

Do you have feelings for Pierre is what he wants to ask, “You’re cute,” is what he replies, pressing a kiss to Charles’ lips.

“I’m not cute. I’m not a baby,” Charles groans, pulling a disgruntled face.

“You’re cute,” Lewis retorts, shoving a bottle of water into Charles’ hands and sitting on the chair opposite his boyfriend, “And you can be a bit of a baby,”

Charles rolls his eyes, flipping off the older man, and gulping down half the bottle of water before spitting a mouthful out on a laugh, spraying his boyfriend.

“Fucking hell, Charles! I don’t want your spit all over me,” Lewis snaps, wiping his face with his sleeve on a scowl.

“You didn’t seem to mind last night,” Charles remarks, grinning at the dark look on Lewis’ face, “Sorry, I just remembered something funny Pierre told me earlier,”

“Must have been funny,” Sebastian drawls, hoping the lack of interest in his voice will be enough for Charles not to delve into whatever Pierre did that he found so hilarious.

Charles has always been oblivious though and it’s even worse when he’s drunk so Sebastian patiently listens as his boyfriend animatedly tells them about Pierre forgetting to pay at a restaurant.

Now, Sebastian really doesn’t think that’s very funny at all, but Charles seems to think it’s hilarious, and he looks so adorable that he doesn’t have the heart to stop him talking.

Lewis listens to Charles chatting about his best friend, regurgitating a story with the widest smile.

And normally he’d love to hear the younger man telling stories.

But right now all he can hear in his head are Sebastian’s words from earlier.

Would Charles want something to happen between him and Pierre?

It’s all he can think about when Charles bursts out into giggles trying to impersonate Pierre.

Damn Sebastian and his paranoid thoughts.

“Charles,” Lewis snaps, “Can we talk about something other than Pierre?”

Charles stops mid story and looks at him with a furrowed brow, “Do you not like Pierre anymore?”

“No, I do. He’s a good kid,” Lewis sighs, running a hand down his face, “You just talk about him a lot, and spend a lot of time with him. I’d prefer it if our relationship wasn’t Pierre central,”

“He’s my best friend,”

“Well we know that seeing as how much you talk about him,” Sebastian mutters, glancing at Lewis.

Charles looks between them with a frown, “What’s going on?” Then a smirk appears on his face and he bursts out laughing, “Wait, are you two jealous of Pierre?”

“Of course we’re not. We just don’t want to spend everyday talking about him,” Sebastian hisses, cursing himself when he can feel his face flush. The cheeky grin on Charles’ face isn’t helping either.

“Oh my God, you totally are. That’s hilarious. I can’t wait to tell Pierre about this. You two are so cute,” Charles teases, mockingly pinching both their cheeks, ignoring their glares.

“You are pushing your luck,” Sebastian warns, knocking the younger man’s hand away, “We are not jealous, we know you’re close. It’s just…sometimes it feels like you’re closer to him than us,”

“And that makes you…jealous?” Charles asks on a grin, squealing when the German’s fingers digs into his side.

“You’re drunk and annoying. We’re not talking about this with you if you’re not going to take it seriously,” Lewis snaps, standing up.

Charles grips his hand on a soft smile, tugging him down on the sofa next to him, “I’m sorry, I’m acting like a dick. Look, there’s nothing to worry about with Pierre. He’s as straight as they come and definitely not my type. I’ve known him my whole life and we’ve been through a lot together so we are close,”

“So you’ve never had feelings for him?” Sebastian asks quietly, gently shoving the younger man in the arm when he rolls his eyes, “Don’t be like that. I actually want to know,”

“Seb, I’ve never had feelings for him. I don’t look at him like that. Anyway even if I ever did have feelings for him they’d be nothing compared to what I feel for you two. I love you two so much I’d die for you,”

Lewis rolls his eyes on a smirk, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend, “We don’t ever want you to die for us. We love you too though, Charlie, more than anything. We were just worried that maybe there might have been something between you and Pierre,”

Charles shakes his head, looking between them both, “I know I talk about him a lot and spend a lot of time with him but that’s just because he’s my best friend. I think if you two got to know him better then you’d really see there’s nothing between us. Maybe you could invite him to Switzerland, Seb? That’d be really fun,”

“Maybe, Charlie. If you want him to come then I’m sure we could arrange it,” Sebastian replies on a smile, resting a hand on Charles’ hair.

“I like it when you two get jealous, it’s cute,” Charles teases, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks.

“We weren’t jealous,” Sebastian hisses, “We were just concerned is all,”

Charles shrugs his shoulders on a grin, “Seemed pretty jealous to me,”

“Your luck has just run out,” Sebastian growls, making a grab for the younger man when he jumps up on a laugh. “There’s nowhere to hide, Charlie,” He warns, chasing after his boyfriend.
_______________________________________________

Sebastian heads straight to Ferrari once he’s done with all of his media responsibilities. It was the same spiel he normally gives; he extracted the best from the car and they hope to see some improvements in the next few races.

There’s not much more to say. He’s used to being disappointed by now. Charles though, he’s too young and too early in his career to be feeling the same way. Sebastian suspects after this race though he’s feeling exactly that.

Lewis on the other hand had achieved his best result of the season so far. He’s just glad one of his boyfriends will be celebrating tonight.

Last weekend’s race had resulted in the three of them cuddled up together watching one of Charles’ French movies - Lewis and Charles barely speaking and looking like they were stuck in their heads, likely going over what went wrong on the track.

They’d all seen each other in the press pen but Charles had run off as soon as he was done. The two older men sharing a concerned look but not being able to follow after their boyfriend.

Sebastian walks to the Ferrari driver rooms, shooting Mattia a glare as he goes by. This man is the reason his boyfriend is suffering.

He grimaces when he finds Lewis and Lando leaning against a wall opposite the rooms, Italian shouting echoing down the hall.

Lewis gives him a soft smile, wrapping an arm around him and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“Have you spoken to him?” He asks, securing his arm around the man’s waist.

“No, they’ve been in there since we got here,”

Lando crosses his arms and sighs, “I have no idea what they’re saying but they’ve been screaming in Italian for the last twenty minutes. I wish Carlos would hurry up, I’ve had a shit weekend too,”

Lewis shoots him a pointed look, “Welcome to the club, mate. This is the my best result all season and I can’t even enjoy it because Charles has been let down again,”

Lando looks at the floor guiltily, “Yeah sorry mate, you were awesome this weekend,”

Sebastian presses a kiss against his boyfriend’s cheek, “I know I said it earlier but I’m really proud of you, Lew. I knew you’d get the car to the podium. If you want to go out and celebrate then I’ll make sure Charles is okay. I doubt he’ll be much company tonight anyway,”

Lewis beams at him, “Thank you sweetheart. I’m proud of you too, and you two are the only people I want to be with right now. He’ll need us,”

As if on cue Charles’ driver’s room door opens and the Monegasque walks out looking just as dejected as he had during the interviews. He glances between the two older men on a glare.

“Charlie,” Sebastian starts quietly, holding out his arms to pull the younger man into his chest only for Charles to push him away.

“Don’t,” Charles warns, storming down the hallway and out of sight.

Carlos appears in the door way, sighing as he watches his teammate go. Lando wraps his arms around his boyfriend, “Are you okay?”

Carlos runs a hand down his face and shakes his head, “I’m angry but there’s nothing I can do now,” He answers dryly before looking at the older men, “I’ve never seen Charles like this before. He’s just spent the last twenty minutes calling Ferrari every name under the sun. Is that what you say? Under the sun?” He clarifies looking at Lando who nods meekly, “He’s heartbroken. I tried to calm him down but he wouldn’t listen,”

Sebastian and Lewis share a look. They knew how important this weekend was for Charles. He had been looking forward to coming back for a win and getting back into the title fight properly.

“We’ll talk to him,” Lewis confirms, “Things will get better man,”

Carlos scoffs on a roll of the eyes, “I’ll believe it when I see it, mate. Congratulations by the way. Your race was good,”

Lewis and Sebastian bid the two younger drivers goodbye and head off to the car park where they’re pretty sure Charles will have gone. Sebastian doesn’t blame Charles for wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible.

“I don’t even know what to say to him. The poor kid looked ruined,”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at his boyfriend, “Don’t call him a kid to start off with, you know he hates that,”

Lewis snorts in amusement, “Fair point. Seriously though, what are we going to say?”

“We are just going to be there for him. We’ll let him do the talking. This isn’t the first time he’s had a shit weekend, Lewis,”

When they arrive at the car park they spot Charles at Andrea’s car, gesturing wildly about something.

Andrea notices them walking over and says something to Charles who turns around on stormy eyes. Sebastian can’t remember the last time he’d seen Charles look at him in that way.

“Can both of you just leave me alone? I’m really not in the fucking mood to celebrate your races,”

Lewis shakes his head in disbelief, “We are not expecting you to. We are here to make sure you’re okay. Come on, Charlie. Let’s go back to your hotel,”

“I want to be alone,” Charles murmurs, pulling his hood over his head and turning back to his trainer’s car.

Lewis grips him by the waist and drags the younger man into his side, easily over powering his attempts to push him off. “Tough luck, Charlie. We want to be with you,” He looks at Andrea on a smile, “I’ll drive him back to the hotel. He’ll text you tomorrow,”

Andrea glances apprehensively at the young man, “You’ll be alright Charles?”

Charles sighs and nods his head, ignoring the small smiles on both his boyfriends’ faces.

Lewis wraps the arm that isn’t securing Charles to his side, around Sebastian’s shoulders, and leads them to his car.

Sebastian glances at the youngest man on a smile, “Front or back?”

Charles rolls his eyes, "I literally don’t care,”

The German shrugs his shoulders and gets into the front passenger seat. Charles raises an eyebrow, “Seriously? You’re going to make me sit in the back after the weekend I’ve had?”

Lewis chuckles lowly from the drivers seat and Sebastian shoots a glare at the youngest man, “You’re such a little menace,” He hisses, getting out of the front seat and allowing Charles to slip in.

The drive back to Charles’ hotel is silent other than the low sounds of Kanye West echoing around the car.

As soon as they pull up in the car park Charles jumps out of the car, not looking to see if the older men are following him.

“He’s going to be fun tonight,” Lewis drawls, locking his car and smirking at his boyfriend.

The German rolls his eyes and they follow after the younger man, shaking their heads in amusement when Charles lets all the doors slam in their faces.

“Are you going to let us in?” Sebastian asks, leaning against the wall and eyeing his boyfriend who’s standing in front of the hotel door, staring at the floor.

“I left my wallet at the track,” Charles mumbles, kicking at the door on a growl, “Fuck sake, I’m a fucking idiot,”

Lewis wraps an arm around him, gently pulling him back from the door and pulling his own wallet out of his packet, “Calm down, Charlie. It’s fine, you can text Mattia and ask him to get your wallet. I’ve got a key,” He soothes, unlocking the door and guiding the younger man in.

The sky is dark through the window and there’s no light in the room until Sebastian turns on the light switch, illuminating the room in a low glow. There’s clothes thrown all over the floor and hair products scattered around on every side.

“Love what you’ve done with the place, Charlie. You only came back to get changed this morning. How’d you make such a mess?” Sebastian drawls in bemusement, picking up a few t-shirts from the floor and folding them onto a chair.

“I didn’t ask you to come. If you don’t like it then leave,” Charles hisses, glaring at him, and throwing himself down on the sofa, dropping his head into his hands.

Lewis and Sebastian share a look and move to sit down either side of their boyfriend. Their hands stroking up his back and in his hair.

“Charlie, it’s going to be fine. There’s still plenty of races left. You’ll come back from this,” Lewis murmurs, flinching slightly when Charles bolts up with dark eyes.

“I don’t want your sympathy, Lewis. You’re probably happy they fucked my strategy. It was the only way you were going to get on the podium,”

“Charles,” Sebastian sighs, clasping the younger man’s nape, “Come on, don’t be like that. I know you’re disappointed but there’s no need to take it out on Lewis. You should be happy for him,”

“Well I’m not,” Charles barks, dropping his head again, “Can’t you two just leave me alone? You’re not making me feel any better,”

“We’re not leaving you alone when you’re like this, Charles. Not after the last time,” Lewis warns, recalling the pure horror of finding Charles in his bathroom with cut up wrists.

“Oh so you’re punishing me. Fucking brilliant. As if I haven’t been through enough today,”

“We are not punishing you, Charles. We are worried about you and we don’t like seeing you like this. What can we do?”

“I know a way to get a smile on your face again…” Sebastian drawls, mockingly narrowing his eyes when green eyes flick up to meet his own.

“Don’t you fucking dare. I mean it, Seb. I’ll lose my shit,” Charles hisses, sitting back on the sofa and folding his arms across his stomach and sides.

Sebastian huffs a laugh, pressing a kiss to the younger man’s cheek, “That will be the last resort then,” He teases, raising his eyebrows at the glare on Charles’ face, “How about we order room service and watch a movie?”

“I’m not hungry and I don’t want to watch a movie,”

“You need to eat, Charles,” Lewis’ voice is stern with no room for arguing, “We’ll order room service and then if you’re not up to doing anything we’ll just go to bed,”

Charles arches an eyebrow at him, a smirk playing at his lips, “I’ve got my PS5 here,”

Lewis grins, “Oh really? You want me to kick your ass at COD again?”

“I win sometimes!” Charles protests on a glare, “Anyway I’ve played a lot with Pierre since the last time we did. I’m much better now,”

“I’ll see it when I believe it. We’ll get something to eat and then we can have a game, okay?”

“Okay,” Charles agrees softly, clutching the older man’s hand, “I didn’t mean what I said, Lewis. I’m really happy for you. You deserved to be on the podium,”

“I know you are, Charlie. You deserved to be up there too though,”

Sebastian hands their empty plates and bowls to the hotel worker at the door, smiling sheepishly when Charles shouts a string of curse words from inside the room.

“Charles, do you always have to shout so loud when you play? There are people in the room’s next to you,” He drawls, sitting back down on the sofa and picking up his book.

“The louder he shouts the worse he’s doing,” Lewis glees, laughing when he spots Charles’ character on the screen and fires a few bullets at him.

“I don’t get how you’re so good at this! I grew up playing this! They didn’t even have this game when you were a kid!”

Lewis laughs, going for the kill shot and cheering when Charles’ character falls to the ground, “I’m just naturally talented at everything, Charlie. Maybe I’ll give you some tips another day,”

Charles’ eyes narrow with determination, “Another game? I’ll beat you this time,”

“You won’t but I don’t mind beating you again,” Lewis grins, restarting the game.

“Do you have to play again?” Sebastian groans, unable to keep the smile of his face when he sees the cheeky grin on Charles’ face.

He can cope with the shouting and fidgeting next to him if it means Charles has a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

Sebastian has considered it in passing before now. He’s thought about leaving it all behind and finding something else to fill his life with. Racing is no longer the be-all and end-all it used to be. 

Days like today make the promised peace of retirement seem all the more appealing. Long gone are the days of standing on the top of the podium with his finger in the air, beautifully young in his twenties and feeling invincible. 

There’s no joy in driving the car now. It doesn’t go as fast as he wants it to. It doesn’t have the right mix of downforce. It doesn’t glide across the track like his Redbull or his Ferrari did.

The team aren’t family in the same way Redbull and Ferrari were to him. They’re his teammates’ family and that in itself makes him feel almost like an outsider. 

Sebastian tries to push back the thoughts running through his head. The words whispering in his ear that there’s no point continuing in a sport he’s not excelling in. Today should be about Charles. He won the race and it was a well deserved win. 

The Ferrari building has never seemed so unappealing though because it’s there that he lost himself. The bright red taunts him. It’s there that he entered as a king and left a broken man. They ruined him. They tormented him. The ghosts of the man he once was haunt the garage along with the ghosts of his idols. 

He’s barely stepped foot in the building when he spots Mattia across the room. Their eyes meet and his entire past flashes through his mind. The moment it became apparent Charles was what Ferrari wanted. The moment Mattia sat across the table and told him they wouldn’t be renewing his contract. 

It was Mattia Binotto that took everything from him. It’s Mattia that is the reason he’s in the position he is now. 

The smirk on the Italian’s face makes him feel sick, and then it makes him too hot. His heart feels like it’s pounding out of his chest and his vision starts to blur. 

Sebastian has made a point of not having enemies in his life. He’s had rivalries but there’s no one he’s on bad terms with now, except Mattia Binotto. He’s never been able to forgive the man for toying him along, for treating him with no respect. It was in this building that his downfall began. 

His hand comes out to rest on the door when it feels like he can’t stand up anymore and within a second he’s running. 

There’s no place for him to run but he doesn’t stop. He runs from his ghosts, from his demons, and from the team that have left him as the shell of person he is today. The team that made him age a decade in a year. The team that took an accomplished champion and made him feel like he wasn’t worthy. 

It doesn’t take long to realise he’s running on the track. He’s running on the same track his car had barely managed to make it across. He’s running on the same track Lewis’ and Charles’ car made it onto the podium at. 

And it doesn’t seem fair. It doesn’t seem fair that Lewis and Charles get to have cars they can win in whilst he’s stuck at the back of the grid. What have they done that he hasn’t? What have they got that he doesn’t? Why is he the only one being punished?

Sebastian drops to the floor, leaning up against the barrier with his head between his knees as he tries to inhale and exhale; the same way he’s instructed Charles to so many times before. Breathe in and out. Breathe in and out. Slow and steady breaths. 

Life is hard. It can be overwhelming when nothing goes according to plan. When, in fact, everything is falling apart. It’s like when you screw up in Tetris and none of the pieces are fitting anymore. Too many are barreling down the screen and soon enough, your world is jammed. Game over.

And this, this feels like the end of the game. 

The worst part is it came out of nowhere. It was a rogue wave. The last few weekends hadn’t been great but he’d been coping. This feeling has blindsided him but there’s no going back now. It’s in this moment that he has to choose who he is and who he intends to become. 

He’s not a champion anymore. He’s not a Ferrari driver anymore. He’s struggling at the bottom of the grid and that’s not where he belongs. 

Maybe now he belongs in his garden; growing vegetables and ducking back into his living room to watch Lewis and Charles on the TV screen.

Maybe this is it for him and maybe he’s ready to move on. 

Rain starts dropping out of the sky and the dark clouds mock him. Pathetic fallacy. Everything in him and around him is dark and grey, and much like the sky, there’s no light. 

The short sleeve t-shirt he’s wearing offers no shield from the heavy rain and as it drenches him through a manic laugh escapes his mouth. This is his life. There was a time when he’d be out celebrating right now after a win, but now he’s sitting on a track, tears dripping down his face and rain seeping through his clothes. 

There was a time when Sebastian Vettel was a champion and now he’s just a man sitting in the rain.

It’s like everything around him stops and he’ll be stuck in this moment forever.

Time must go by though because through the rain, the moon appears in the sky. It’s full and bright, a beautiful sight. His clothes are now sticking to him like a second layer of skin, his body shivers in the cold, and his teeth shatter. 

But he doesn’t move. He can’t move. 

He wants to skip ahead two years and it’s not because he doesn’t want to live. It’s that he doesn’t want to live right now. He wants to see the next part so that he knows this is all worth it. 

“Seb!” 

The panicked shouts catch his attention and he sees two figures sprinting over to him. They are the voices of his dreams. They are the voices of his consciousness. 

Lewis and Charles drop down next to him with matching expressions of fear on their faces. 

“Seb, what are you doing?” Charles asks, tugging off his coat and wrapping it around Sebastian’s shoulders, frowning when he realises what he thought was rain dripping down his face is actually tears, “Seb,” He breathes, wiping the tears away, “What’s wrong? You can’t be sitting out here. They’re saying it’s a storm and it’ll only get worse,” 

Sebastian tries to shake off the coat, the rain is already darkening Charles’ thin t-shirt, “Put your coat back on, Charles,” He mutters through chattering teeth, trying to tug off the red jacket until Lewis’ hands hold his own. 

“Seb, you need the coat and we need to go inside,” 

“I can’t - I can’t move,” He stutters, voice breaking half way through the short sentence. Lewis tries to pull him up and he pushes him off on a cry, “Stop. I can’t move. Just let me stay here,” 

Lewis loosens his grip, “Okay, okay, Seb. We can stay here,”

Lewis and Charles share a look, and Sebastian cries harder at the hollowness in the younger man’s eyes. Charles is scared and he doesn’t want that.

“Charlie, it’s okay. I’m okay,” He promises, reaching out to cup the younger man’s cheek with a shaky hand. 

“You’re not, Seb,” Charles whimpers, pressing a kiss to his palm, “What’s wrong? Was it the race? Or did something happen in the garage?”

Sebastian laughs humourlessly, “It’s everything. It’s all of it,” 

Lewis moves to sit beside his boyfriend - ignoring the way the wet, cold ground feels through his trousers - and wraps an arm around him, “What does that mean, Seb? What’s everything?” 

He wants Sebastian to know that between the three of them they can say anything. They can pour out their deepest worries, their darkest thoughts. They will hold them up to the light and they will not flinch. They will listen and love. 

“I’m so tired,” Sebastian murmurs, his voice catching in his throat, “I’m so tired of all of this. The car not being what I want. Racing not feeling the same. All of it. I used to be happy on the track and now it’s just painful,” 

“It’s better to feel pain than nothing at all,” Lewis whispers, pressing a kiss to the man’s wet cheek, “You’re going through a rough patch, Seb. Everyone has them. You’ll get past this,” 

“No,” Sebastian chokes, shaking his head, “This isn’t a rough patch. It’s been this way since I left Ferrari. They ruined me. I’m not the same man I used to be,” 

“You were on the podium last year,” Charles argues, “You aren’t ruined. You just need to find the motivation again, Seb. You can still do it. You can win for Aston Martin, you can get their first win,” 

“Charles,” Sebastian scoffs, rolling his eyes, “I will never win again. This is what racing will be for me now. I got a podium because I got lucky,” He spits, narrowing his eyes on the younger man, “Ferrari took everything from me, Charles. Your team did this to me. Don’t ever let them do the same to you. Promise me, you won’t ever end up like me,” 

Charles shakes his head, a stray tear dropping onto his cheek, “I don’t understand what you mean, Seb. You’re still amazing. I would be proud to end up like you. You’re a champion,” 

“I was a champion,” He snarls, “I was a champion a decade ago back when you were just a kid. Now I’m nothing. Now I’m not even sure why I’m still racing,” 

Charles shakes his head, kneeling down on the floor in front of the older men, a vicious shiver overcoming his body. “You’ll always be a champion, Seb. You’re one of the best,” 

“Put my coat on Charlie,” Lewis murmurs, noticing the way the younger man is starting to shiver.

“I’ll be okay. I’m not that cold,” Charles deflects with a dismissive wave of the hand, “Seb, things are going to get better, you just have to wait,” 

Sebastian wishes he still had the youthful naivety Charles seems to live off. He wishes he didn’t look at the younger man almost every day and just know that if he stays with Ferrari then he’ll end up like this one day. 

Lost. Broken. Destroyed. Empty. Drained. 

“They’re not, Charles. This is the end. I’m done,” 

Charles gapes and he doesn’t expect him to understand, not yet. He’s glad he doesn’t understand. The sport hasn’t damaged Charles enough yet. It hasn’t propelled him to the highest of highs only not to catch him when he falls to the lowest lows. 

Lewis glances over at Charles and the way he’s become a shivering wreck, “Put this on now,” He snaps, handing the coat over, “I told you we should have grabbed an umbrella,” 

“I don’t need it,” The younger man insists, shoving the coat back into Lewis’ arms, “You wear it, I don’t want you getting cold,” 

“Put the coat on right now, Charles,” Sebastian hisses, waiting until his boyfriend pulls the coat on before dropping his head back to his hands. 

The compulsion to stay sitting on the track away from the inevitable disappointments is overwhelming. The three of them could sit here for hours in the rain and his boyfriends’ voices would keep him steady. They’d be his saving grace. 

And as much as he wants that. As much as he’s willing to let himself become hypothermic to avoid returning to the underwhelming essence of his life. He’s not willing to let his boyfriends suffer the same way. 

“Let’s go,” He murmurs, pushing himself up off the floor, “We can’t sit in the rain forever,” 

Lewis and Charles jump up, immediately wrapping arms around him. 

He glances at Charles wearing Lewis’ Mercedes jacket and wishes it’s what he wore everyday. He wishes he didn’t look at him and see a younger version of himself. 

“Look at me, Charlie,” Sebastian utters, slipping off Lewis’ arm and cradling the younger man’s face, “I need you to really listen to me, okay?”

Charles’ eyes widen at the desperation in the man’s voice. 

“Don’t let Ferrari destroy you, Charles. You’re still so young. Don’t let them hold you back. They’ll try, sweetheart. They’ll try to take you down with them but you can’t let them. Don’t let them damage you like they did me. You won’t come back from it. You will be a champion one day but it might mean you have to leave them behind. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

He searches Charles’ eyes looking for any sign that the words are registering - that he’s not so enthralled by the prancing horse he’s become oblivious to their shortcomings. 

Charles has always looked up to him, he knows that; he just hopes his boyfriend won’t make the same mistakes he did. He hopes Charles can be better. 

“I understand, Seb,” 

And Sebastian sighs because he can tell by the look on the younger man’s face he doesn’t. Charles will handcuff himself to the sinking ship that Ferrari is. He’s their son. He’s their passion. He embodies the myth. 

There’s not a chance in hell that he’ll let Ferrari ruin Charles though. 
_______________________________________________

Lewis and Sebastian freeze in the doorway of Charles’ drivers room. It’s not the sight they were expecting to see after their boyfriend made it to the second step of the podium, ahead of Max, and once again managing to close the gap in the championship fight. 

Charles is sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands, body shaking with the muffled cries escaping his mouth. 

“Charlie,” Sebastian murmurs, taking a seat next to his boyfriend and wrapping his arms around him, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? What’s happened?” 

“Nothing,” Charles sniffs, sitting up properly and wiping at his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his fireproofs, “I’m fine,” 

“Charles,” Lewis sighs, shutting the door and moving to sit on the other side of the younger man, “Tell us what’s wrong. We were expecting to find you on your way out to celebrate with the team, not like this,” 

“I don’t want to celebrate with the team,” Charles mumbles, fiddling with his sleeve and avoiding their eyes. 

“Okay,” Lewis drawls, shooting an arched eyebrow at Sebastian, knowing they’re going to have to play detective to figure out what’s gotten their boyfriend in this state, “Has something happened with the team?” 

“With Mattia,” 

Sebastian feels the rage burning in his stomach at the muttered response. It feels like almost every week Mattia is causing problems and he has to stop himself from approaching the man and verbally attacking him. 

Charles had convinced him not to do anything about it, but there’s no way he’ll let the Italian get away with making his boyfriend cry after he’s just achieved P2 despite the lack of team strategy. 

“What did he do now?” He grates, sighing when Charles still wont look at him and grasping the younger man’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “What’s happened, Charlie?” 

“He just said some stuff,” Charles whispers, pushing the older man’s hand away and standing up on a shrug of the shoulders, “It’s fine. Let’s go home,” 

Lewis rolls his eyes, folding his arms across his chest and narrowing his eyes on the younger man, “It’s obviously not fine, Charles. What did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Charles snaps, picking his bag up from the floor, “Are we going or are you two planning on sitting there all night?” 

“Charles,” Sebastian cautions, “Whatever he said obviously bothered you so tell us. I’m not having you get in your head about it,”

“Seb,” Charles whines, throwing his arms in the air on a groan, “Why can’t you just let it go?”

Lewis leans back on sofa, spreading his legs slightly and eyeing his boyfriend, “We’ll sit here all night until you tell us, Charlie. If you don’t start talking within the next minute though then we will force it out of you,” 

“You’re evil,” Charles hisses, rolling his eyes at the matching grins on his boyfriends’ faces. Lewis arches an eyebrow at him and he sighs, dropping his bag on the floor, “He said I’m not ready to be a champion. It’s not even that bad but it just got to me because I thought I’d had a good race and he wasn’t even happy. He kept saying how if I hadn’t made so many mistakes in the other races then I’d have been in the lead of the championship,” 

Lewis gapes at him, “You’ve made maybe two mistakes all season? Mistakes that even the most experienced drivers still make. It’s the strategy calls that are the reason Max is ahead of you. You’ve been fucking amazing,” 

Charles shrugs his shoulders on a a frown, “I don’t know. I know that the strategy has been a big part of it but if I keep making mistakes then maybe I’m not championship material,” 

Sebastian snorts, shaking his head. “Charles, you better not actually be thinking that. It’s rare that you make a mistake and even when you do you learn from it. That is what champions do. You’re still so young, you’ve got years to learn. Mattia doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You’re ready to be a champion and if you were with another team then you would be one already,” 

“I don’t think I’m good enough yet,” Charles mumbles, dropping down on the sofa between them.

“That’s ridiculous, Charles,” Lewis snaps, “Every teammate you’ve had you’ve out performed. You beat Seb two years in a row and he’s a four time world champion,” Lewis insists, shooting a sheepish smile at the smirking German, “No offence, Seb. I know you were struggling with the car then,” 

Sebastian cups the younger man’s nape on a soft smile, “Lewis is right, Charlie. You beat me fair and square. You’re one of the best drivers on the grid and I think in a few years when you’re more experienced you’ll be the best. You’re championship material. It’s Ferrari that aren’t,” 

When Charles shrugs his shoulders, still looking just as defeated as he had when they came into the room, Sebastian stands up on a growl, “Right, I’m not having this anymore. I’m not letting Mattia talk shit to you. He’s supposed to be in your corner not putting you down,” 

Lewis stands too, looking at his boyfriend on determined eyes, “Team Principals aren’t supposed to act like that, Charles. In any other team they’d be bowing down at your feet. Where’s Mattia?” 

Charles looks between them on wide eyes, “Why? You can’t say anything to him! He’s my boss!” 

Sebastian ignores him looking at Lewis, “He’ll be in his office. I know where it is. Let’s go,” 

Charles rushes after them, diving in front of the door before they can open it, easily holding their heated glares. 

“You cannot say anything to him! He’s just trying to motivate me to be better!” 

Lewis shakes his head on a scoff, “I know you genuinely believe that and it’s worrying. He should not be motivating you by putting you down. I won’t have it anymore, Charles. It’s unfair and you deserve better,” 

Charles groans dropping his head back against the door, pushing Sebastian’s hand away when he tries to open it.

“Get out of the way, Charles. This is happening whether you like it or not. We can do it the easy way or the hard way,” 

Charles narrows his eyes on him and Sebastian smirks, “The hard way then. You never make things easy for yourself, Charlie,” He taunts, shooting his hands out and digging his fingers into his boyfriend’s sides, only stopping when he moves out of the way on breathless giggles. 

“Stay here. We’ll come and get you when we’ve spoken to Mattia,” Sebastian orders, closing the door, ignoring Charles’ shout of traitors echoing through the walls. 

“Are we really doing this?” Lewis murmurs as they walk along the corridor, Ferrari employees’ eyes following them every step. 

“It’s this way,” Sebastian says, leading them down to Mattia’s office, “Yes, we are doing this. I’m not having him talk like that to Charles anymore. It’s really lowering his confidence. I worry about how bad it could be when we are not racing anymore if we don’t do something about it now. You know Charles never will,” 

Lewis nods as they stop outside the team principal’s office, looking through the door and seeing him seated behind the desk on the phone. 

“Let’s do this then,” He murmurs, opening the door and walking in.

Mattia arches an eyebrow at them and mutters something in Italian down the phone before looking between them, “Sebastian, Lewis. If you’re looking for Charles he went to his drivers room,” 

“We’ve just found him there and instead of being happy about his race he was talking about how he’s not ready to be a champion,” Sebastian snaps, “You had no right to say that to him! He is the heart of Ferrari and you know that! I don’t ever want to hear that you’re berating him again!” 

Mattia shoots them a conniving smile, “How I manage my drivers is nothing to do with you. You have no right to come in here and demand anything. You’re not at Ferrari anymore, Sebastian. You have no sway here,” 

Lewis takes a step toward him, glowering at the man, “It is everything to do with us. You’re going to ruin Charles. He’s still so young and he is willing to spend his entire career here, not that you deserve it. It’s about time that you start showing him some appreciation,” 

Mattia let’s out a humourless laugh, standing up from the desk and leaning against the wall, folding his arms across his chest, “Do you think I don’t know what’s going on between you three? I could end Charles’ career with one story. If you want your little boyfriend to keep his seat I’d recommend walking away now and we can pretend this never happened,” 

Sebastian snorts, “You would never do that. If people knew that you got rid of Charles because of his sexuality it’d cause uproar. The Tifosi love him, not you. They will support him every step of the way and you will be out of a job within a week,” 

Mattia doesn’t reply, and Sebastian knows he’s won. It’s all the encouragement he needs to step closer to the man, standing only a foot away from him, “I won’t let you ruin Charles in the same way you ruined me. I know that you attacked him the other month,” He growls, a smug smirk appearing on his face when Mattia’s eyes widen, “Unless you want the police involved I’d think about how you treat Charles from now on. You don’t want to lose him. You won’t find another driver as talented as him willing to put up with your team’s mistakes. I wish he’d leave but I know he won’t so at least give him everything he deserves - make him a champion,” 

Mattia stares at him but Sebastian’s glare doesn’t falter. After a few moments the Italian rolls his eyes on a nod, “I suppose I could go easier on Charles,” He mutters, “Don’t you ever dare come into my office like this again. I will have you banned from the building next time,” 

Lewis and Sebastian share a satisfied smile and cross the room to the door. Sebastian stops in the doorway, turning back to the man on a glower, “If you ever hurt Charles again then I will get the police involved. I don’t care if I have to drag Charles kicking and screaming. You won’t get away with it,” 

Mattia nods slightly, looking down at the floor. Sebastian slams the door shut and turns to his boyfriend on a grin, “I have wanted to put Mattia in his place for so long. I feel like I could run a marathon,” 

Lewis rolls his eyes on a smirk, slinging an arm around the man’s neck as they walk back to Charles’ drivers room, “You’re pretty hot when you’re putting people in their place. You should do it more,” 

Sebastian snorts, gently shoving the the older man. They walk back into Charles’ room, smirking when their boyfriend jumps up from the sofa looking between them. 

“What did you say? Is he angry? Have you two just lost me my seat?” 

Lewis laughs, pulling the younger man into a hug and pressing a kiss to his temple, “Don’t worry about what we said. It’s all sorted, Charlie. Mattia won’t be talking to you like that again. If he does then you tell us,” 

Charles pulls back looking between them with a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue, instead he sighs on a soft smile, “Thank you for looking out for me,” 

Sebastian cradles his face, kissing him softly, “We are always going to protect you, Charlie,” He promises, caressing his thumb along the younger man’s cheek, “Let’s go home and celebrate your race. The Ferrari Prince can choose what we order for dinner tonight,” 
_______________________________________________

Charles isn’t sure how it happened. One weekend he was battling it out on the track with Max and then suddenly it was Lewis in his mirror. 

Something happened over the summer break and Redbull fell apart. Their races almost always ended up with a DNF, and it’s Mercedes that have made it to P2 in the constructors championship, only a few points behind Ferrari.

It’s Lewis now only eight points behind him and seeming to be improving every weekend. 

It’s Lewis taking advantage of Ferrari’s bad strategy calls and snatching the win, Charles coming over the line a few tenths later in second place. 

They look at each other on the podium, forced smiles as they coat George or Carlos with champagne, ignoring the other. 

The championship fight has made things awkward at home. They’re barely talking, both worrying they’ll give things away that could give the other an advantage. When they do talk it turns into shouts. 

Sebastian tries to mediate between them, desperately trying and failing to keep the peace. 

The German shoots cautious eyes between them at the dinner table, giving up on trying to engage either of them in a conversation about the new Netflix show he’d seen advertised. 

“I was thinking we could go for a hike tomorrow? Maybe go up the mountain?” He suggests, piling a mouthful of stir fry into his mouth. 

Charles’ fork drops onto his full plate with a clang, and he scoffs, “Lewis will probably find a short cut and cheat,” 

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Lewis asks on furrowed brows, raising his eyes to meet the younger man’s accusing glare, “Are you calling me a cheater?” 

“There’s no way Mercedes managed to improve their car that much without working on it over the summer break. You’re a team of cheaters,” 

“Charlie,” Sebastian admonishes, “No team could get away with working on their car over the summer break. Eat your dinner and let’s talk about something different,” 

Lewis ignores their boyfriend and scowls at the Monegasque, “You’re one to talk about cheating. It was only a couple of years ago you were driving with an illegal engine. Let’s not forget you had your first two wins with an illegal engine too,”

“That - that is completely different!” Charles hisses, his face flushing red, “You’re being ridiculous!” 

“You are,” Lewis replies evenly, swallowing his mouthful of food, “We haven’t cheated, Charles,” 

And he knows he should drop the topic because Sebastian is looking like he’s ready to pull out his hair and Charles is getting more tense by the minute, but he’s not going to take this from his boyfriend. 

Charles, who was happy to cheer him on when he was a few cars behind him. Charles, who has only been in the sport a few years and seems to think he knows it all already. 

“Let me give you some advice, Charlie,” He drawls, ignoring the subtle shake of the head from Sebastian and the affronted look on Charles’ face, “The way you race, that’s not how you want to win a championship. I’ve always been a fair racer. I’m proud of the way I’ve raced. I’ve always left people space to overtake. You though, and well it’s not just you it’s Max too, you are too aggressive. You don’t leave any space. You tried to push me off the track today. That’s not fair racing,”

“Don’t talk to me about fair racing!” Charles hisses, “I’m always fair. I race on the limit but that’s how it should be. I don’t need your advice. I don’t want it. I just want to know how you’ve gotten away with cheating,” 

Lewis stares at him in amusement, “I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this. We are not cheating Charles. I wouldn’t want to win like that,” 

“Then how are you suddenly winning again?” Charles snaps, folding his arms across his chest. 

“It’s not my fault your team doesn’t know how to make strategy, Charles,” Lewis grates, glaring at the younger man over the table, “It was only a matter of time before we got back to the top and as much as I want you to get your first championship, I want my eighth more,” 

“I’m going to win it, Lewis. I’m still ahead of you,” 

“Barely,” Lewis grins, “There’s only five races left, Charlie, and anything can happen. This is when things start heating up. You haven’t been in a championship fight before but these next weeks are going to be intense. We need to make sure we keep things on the track,” 

“Don’t patronise me Lewis!” Charles hisses, feeling secretly proud of himself for not stumbling over the English pronunciation of the word like he normally does, “I know how to keep things on the track,” 

Sebastian’s eyebrows raise but he doesn’t say anything, not wanting to risk winding up his boyfriend anymore. 

Apparently Lewis doesn’t feel the same. 

“You don’t. You’ve been acting like a little shit ever since I beat you the other week. It was always going to end up like this, Charles. We weren’t going to be struggling with the car the entire season. You need to get used to racing me for the win or we are going to have problems,” 

“Problems?” Charles snarls, “Are you going to break up with me if I beat you?” 

“Alright Charles, that’s enough,” Sebastian warns, standing up from the table with his empty plate, “If I go to the kitchen are you two going to be able to cope with not shouting at each other for five minutes?” 

Lewis twirls a noodle around his fork on a smirk, “He’s the one with the issue, not me,” 

“Lewis,” Sebastian sighs, shooting the older man a disapproving look before turning back to Charles, “Let’s just enjoy the rest of our evening, okay? No more talk of racing,” 

Sebastian walks out of the room, pausing at the doorway to look between them, “I mean it. No more racing talk,” 

Lewis holds his hands up in mock surrender, watching the German go and grinning at the petulant look on Charles’ face. 

“You’re cute, Charlie, even when you’re sulking,” 

Charles raises heated eyes at him, “I’m not sulking,” He spits, “I just don’t understand how you’ve managed to turn around your season so fast. It doesn’t make any sense,” 

“Charles,” Lewis scolds, narrowing his eyes on his boyfriend, “We are not talking about this anymore,” 

“I deserve to win it. I’ve put in the work the whole season,” 

Lewis raises his eyebrows, leaning over the table to meet the younger man’s eyes, “And I haven’t? I was working twice as hard as anyone at the start of the season,” He barks, leaning back on a sigh, “Charles, one of us is going to win the championship and that means one of us is going to be disappointed too. We need to separate our feelings from the racing so we can be happy for each other,” 

“I won’t be happy for you. I deserve to win,” 

“You’re so immature sometimes,” Lewis mutters, pushing his plate away on a sigh. 

Charles jumps off his chair, stalking around the table, halting in front of the older man when he stands on narrowed eyes. 

“Calm down, Charles. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You need to stop takings things so personally. Racing is our career but it’s not everything,” 

“It’s everything to me! I’ve had two years in a shit car and now I’m finally in a position when I can become a champion. I won’t let you take that away from me!” Charles barks, pushing Lewis in the chest, growling in his throat when the older man grips his wrists, holding them in place. 

“Stop it, Charles. You’re being such a brat. You’re not entitled to the championship just because you have a decent car. I had a championship snatched from me last year and I still had the decency to congratulate Max. You can at least be mature enough not to bring this into our relationship. I love you and I know you love me,” 

“Let go of me,” Charles hisses, trying to pull his wrists free in vain. 

“If I let go are you going to stop acting like this? I’m not in the mood for this, Charles. I want to watch some TV with you then go to bed,” 

“You’re so annoying! Stop talking me to like a child!” 

“Stop acting like one then,” Lewis bites, letting go of Charles’ wrists only for the younger man to push him again. 

“Fuck sake, Charles! You’re being a pain in the ass!” Lewis snaps, pushing his boyfriend back, the green eyes narrowing into slits. 

“Mein Gott, you two are impossible,” Sebastian hisses walking back into the room and standing between them on a glare, “I know things are tense but it’s not going to get any easier over the next few weeks so you two need to figure out how to keep this civil,” 

Charles turns away on a sigh, running his hand through his hair, “I really want to win,” He murmurs, palms rubbing at his eyes. 

Lewis squeezes his shoulder from behind, “I know you do, Charlie. I want to win too. You’re going to win one day, sweetheart. It might not be this year but you will be a champion one day, I know it,” 

“No I won’t,” Charles groans, turning back to them on a frown, “Next year Redbull will be back on top form and Max will win, or you will have a winning car from the beginning. This is my only chance,” 

Sebastian huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm around the younger man’s shoulder, “With the right car you can beat Max,” Sebastian assures him, glancing at Lewis on a smirk, “I’m not going to say who I think would win between you and Lewis because I’m not starting an argument but you’re a lot younger than him and he’ll retire long before you. This won’t be an issue then,” 

“I am a lot younger than you,” 

Lewis scoffs, poking his boyfriend in the side on a matching grin, “I’m a lot more experienced,” He retorts, cupping Charles’ cheek, “I want to beat you Charlie, but that doesn’t mean I want you to lose,” 

“One of us is going to have to lose though,” Charles mumbles, flicking hesitant eyes at the Brit.

“That’s just how it is, sweetheart. As long as we still love each other after the last race then that’s all that matters,” 

“I’ll always love you,” Charles rushes out, pressing a kiss to the man’s lips, “Nothing will change that,” 

“Good,” Lewis nods, squeezing the younger man’s arm, “I’ll always love you too. Now, I’m going to take our plates into the kitchen and then when we are going to watch a film and pretend we are not fighting for the championship. Deal?” 

“Deal,” Charles agrees, ducking his head to avoid Lewis’ hand coming out to ruffle his hair. 

Charles shoots the older man a smile as he walks out of the room before turning to the German, “I know you didn’t want to say it then but you think I could beat Lewis right?” 

“I heard that, Charles!” Lewis hollers from the kitchen, “Don’t make me come in there,” 

Sebastian and Charles grin, “I think you’re both incredible, Charlie. That’s all I’m going to say,” Sebastian replies on narrowed eyes, pressing a kiss to the younger man’s cheek. 

“But I’m better?”

Lewis appears at the doorway with an arched eyebrow, “You should learn to keep your mouth shut,” He grins, stalking over to him. 

Charles looks at Sebastian on wide eyes and the the man shrugs his shoulders on a mischievous grin, “He did warn you,” 

Charles sprints out of the room, laughing hysterically when he hears Lewis footsteps pounding after him. 

Chapter Text

“I didn’t realise you were with Pierre the other night. I thought you said you went out with Carlos and Lando,” Sebastian observes, trying to keep his tone neutral, as he peeks over the top of his phone at his boyfriend sprawled across the sofa.

Charles doesn’t look at him, his eyes staying focussed on whatever it is on his phone screen, “He text me that night asking if we were out and then came to meet us,” 

The casualness in Charles’ voice should soften the doubts in his head. They’ve had this conversation before and the younger man had assured him nothing would ever happen between him and Pierre. 

The paparazzi article on his phone though - that he’s reread a few times and zoomed into the pictures of - have only reignited the worries. 

The headline is bad enough.

Formula Romance? Leclerc and Gasly the newest drivers to find love on the track.

It’s tacky and a massive invasion of privacy. It infuriates him that drivers can’t seem to go out anymore without being photographed and used for some click bait headline. 

The photos though, they fill him with a mix of annoyance and dread. The two young drivers are alone in a dark corner of a club, leaning into each other. It looks like they’re about to kiss.

Sebastian knows better, he knows they’re probably just trying to hear each other over the music. 

He knows that but it doesn’t stop the insecurity. The worry that Charles will move on. He’ll find someone younger, better looking, someone that will be happy to put up with him being a brat without arguing with him. 

“Did anything happen between you?” He asks, turning his phone around and leaning over the armchair to shove it in Charles’ face, “You look cosy in this picture,” 

“Seb,” Lewis sighs looking across the room at them from the table where he’s been sending some emails, “Are we really going to do this again?” 

Sebastian ignores him, shaking the phone in front of the younger man’s face until he grabs it, dropping his own phone onto his chest, and scrolling through the article on a laugh, “Seb, this is just some stupid reporter trying to make a story out of nothing,” He scoffs, handing him back the phone. 

“There’s no smoke without fire, Charles,” Sebastian snaps, curling back onto the chair and shooting a glare at his boyfriend. 

“What does that even mean?” Charles drawls with disinterest, tilting his head back on the sofa to look at Lewis, “What does that mean, Lew? What is Seb going on about?” 

Lewis closes his laptop on a sigh and walks over to them, pushing Charles’ legs off and sitting down next to him, “It doesn’t matter, Charlie. Seb is just being jealous,” He smiles at the younger man, turning to look at the German with an arched eyebrow, “And if he doesn’t stop then he’s going to start an argument,” 

“I’m not jealous!” Sebastian snaps, “I just don’t like seeing photos of my boyfriend with someone else posted all over the internet, especially when that someone is his best friend who he spends a lot of time with!”

“Seb, I know Pierre. He’s straight. Trust me there’s nothing to worry about,” Lewis reassures him, reaching over the gap to squeeze the man’s shoulder. 

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” 

Charles’ eyebrows hit his hairline and he turns to stare at his boyfriend, “You’re saying you don’t trust me?” 

“Should I?” Sebastian growls, waving his phone around in the air, “Should I trust you when I’m seeing articles like this? I’ve known you a long time, Charles. I remember how you used to go from girl to girl, not thinking anything of it when they overlapped,” 

“Seb,” Lewis warns, resting his palm on Charles’ chest to keep him sitting down when his fists clench at his sides, “Don’t start this now. You know you trust Charles,” 

Sebastian doesn’t reply and Charles scoffs in disbelief, “I have never given you any reason not to trust me, Sebastian! I had a few one night stands, yes, but I was 20! I’d just broken up with my girlfriend! I’m nothing like that now! I’m better because of you and Lewis,” 

“Why didn’t you tell us that you stayed in Pierre’s hotel room the other night after the race? You said you went back to your own,” 

Charles’ eyes widen at the change of topic and the accusing tone in his boyfriend’s voice. 

“Wait - what?” Lewis questions with furrowed brows, eyes flicking between them, “You lied to us? Why were you in Pierre’s room?” 

He looks guilty, he knows he does. Charles can feel the way his muscles have tightened and his jaw has hardened. 

How had Sebastian even found out about that? Someone must have seen them. He makes a vow to track down whoever it was and warn them to keep their nose out of his business. 

This reaction is exactly why he didn’t tell them. They don’t understand that him and Pierre are just close. They’ve known each other their whole lives. Pierre has been there for him through everything. Lewis and Sebastian don’t get that he might not have survived Jules’ or his Father’s death without his best friend. 

“Charles,” Lewis hisses when he doesn’t say anything, “Did you stay in Pierre’s room?” 

“Yes but only because I couldn’t find my room key,” There’s no point in lying. Sebastian already obviously knows. This argument will only get worse if he lies about it. He has nothing to feel guilty for. 

Lewis shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, “Well that’s obviously not true because when we saw you the next morning you were in your hotel room and you said you’d slept there,” 

“I don’t have to explain anything to you. Nothing happened. He’s my friend,” Charles barks, getting up from the sofa, inhaling a calming breath when Lewis’ hand grips his wrist. 

“Yes you fucking do, Charles! You explain it right now! I’ve been defending you and Pierre! I’ve been telling Seb that he’s reading into things! Are you about to make me look like an idiot?” 

Sebastian sits in the chair, silent, watching him. The piercing blue eyes drilling into him, waiting for him to slip up. Waiting for him to prove his ridiculous theories right. 

“Thanks a fucking lot, Seb,” Charles hisses, shaking off Lewis’ hand, “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you both! I knew you’d overreact!” 

“Overreact,” Sebastian repeats on a bitter laugh, “You lied to us, Charles. You say you have never given me a reason not to trust you. This is a reason,” 

“Did you sleep with him?” Lewis questions, his voice so cold, so emotionless, that Charles immediately flicks his eyes to him, praying he’ll know he’s telling the truth. 

“No, I have never slept with him and I never will,” 

“Why did you lie to us?” 

He sighs, walking over to the wall, leaning against it with his arms folded across his chest, and looking between them on a frown, “I didn’t lie to you. I told you I’d slept in my hotel room and that was true. When I left Pierre’s room I went back to mine and went to sleep until you both came. I -“ 

“Oh fuck off, Charles! Don’t try and play games. You lied to us. You lied then so how do I know you’re not lying now?” Lewis interjects, turning to Sebastian, “You knew about this and didn’t tell me?” 

Sebastian shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I shouldn’t have,” 

“This is stupid!” Charles snarls, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I stayed at Pierre’s but nothing happened. I didn’t want to have to deal with you two questioning me on it. I really did lose my hotel key but I went to reception in the morning and got a new one,” 

Lewis eyes him, looking for any sign that he’s not telling the truth. Charles has never been any good at lying to them. He’s not sure how he missed the lie that morning at the hotel. Charles’ adorable half awake state must have thrown him off. 

“Is that the truth?” 

“Yes,” Charles cries, dropping down on the sofa next to him and clutching his hands in his own, “I promise, Lewis. Nothing has ever happened between me and Pierre,” 

The Brit’s face softens and he cups the younger man’s cheek, stroking his thumb across the red tinted skin, “I believe you. You shouldn’t have lied to us though, Charles. We don’t lie to each other,” 

“You shouldn’t have,” Sebastian agrees on a glare, “It better not happen again, Charles,” 

“I know I shouldn’t have,” Charles concedes on a pout, “I knew you’d react this way though and I didn’t want to start an argument,” 

“I do trust you, Charlie,” Sebastian says, titling his head on narrowed eyes, “I trust you but things like this will make me trust you less. I love you more than anything and if you’d have explained the situation to us then we would have understood,” 

“No you wouldn’t,” Charles drawls on a half smile, “I know you two aren’t comfortable with how close Pierre and I are. I’m trying to respect your feelings but I’m not going to change how I am with him. He’s been my best friend my entire life. You two need to understand that,” 

“It’s not that we aren’t comfortable,” Lewis murmurs, moving his hand to rest on the younger man’s nape, “We would never tell you who you can be friends with. We have no right to do that. I think it’s just hard sometimes seeing you two together because it reminds us of how you are with us. You’re not like that with Lando, or even Carlos,” 

“Because they don’t mean as much to me as you two and Pierre. You’re all so important to me for different reasons. Don’t ask me to choose between you though. Pierre has never asked me to do that…and I’m not sure who I would choose,” 

If the admission hurt his boyfriends they don’t show it. Lewis presses a kiss to his cheek, “We would never make you choose, Charles. I’m glad you have Pierre, honestly. I love you,” 

“I love you both. There’s no one else, there never will be,” 
_______________________________________________

Sebastian rolls his eyes at the Charles shaped lump hidden under the duvet. 

“Charlie, you can’t just sleep all day. It’s nice out. We are going down to the lake,” He pesters, tugging the duvet off the younger man, rolling his eyes again when Charles pulls it back over himself on a groan. 

“I don’t feel like doing anything today,” Charles murmurs, burrowing his face into the pillow. 

“Charles, you’re not going to feel any better if you just stay in bed all day. We are all going to be busy with the triple header coming up so let’s spend some time together whilst we’ve got the opportunity,” 

“I’m ready when you guys are,” Lewis announces, walking into the room, popping his sunglasses on over his eyes. 

Sebastian turns to him on a sigh, “It’s just going to be us. Charles seems to have woken up in a particularly bad mood,” 

“I have a reason to be in a bad mood!” Charles argues, shuffling in the bed to glare at the man. 

“I know you had a bad weekend, Charles, but ours wasn’t much better,” Lewis snaps, leaning over him, arms folded across his chest, “Get up and stop moping around,” 

“Leave me alone,” Charles hisses, lifting the duvet up to cover his face and curling in on himself in the bed 

Sebastian scoffs, grabbing one of the pillows and throwing it at his boyfriend, “You’re such a brat,” He mutters, walking over to the window and fully opening the curtains to let the light through, smirking when there’s a moan from the bed. 

“Let’s go. He can stay here and wallow in self pity if he wants to,” 

Lewis follows him out of the room, shooting a concerned look back at the younger man’s head peeping out of the duvet. 

He clasps Sebastian’s arm, tugging the man around, “It’s not like Charles to stay in bed this late. Maybe there’s something wrong,” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes, slipping out of his boyfriend’s grip and walking down the stairs, “He’s just being a brat, Lewis. It’s what he’s best at,” 

Lewis isn’t entirely convinced. Charles can be annoying at the best of times but it’s rare that he’ll lie around in bed for no good reason. Even when he is in a bad mood, the younger man prefers to stalk around the house being particularly loud, making sure they’re both aware he’s pissed off at something. 

Still, he can’t think of any good reason that Charles would be struggling with something, so he grabs Sebastian’s car keys off the side and throws them to the man. 

Almost immediately after Sebastian has connected his phone to the car speaker - and before he can even pull out of the drive way - the generic Iphone ringtone blares through the speakers. 

Sebastian frowns when he sees the name on his phone and accepts the call. 

“Arthur, everything okay?” He asks hesitantly, hoping the youngest Leclerc boy isn’t about to ask him for help without Charles knowing. That would lead to uncharted waters he doesn’t fancy taking a swim in. 

There’s a slight sniffle down the phone. Lewis and Sebastian share a concerned look. “Arthur, what’s wrong kid?”

“Sorry to ring you, Seb,” Arthur murmurs, “Charles isn’t replying to my texts and I need to talk to him,” 

“He’s in bed that’s why,” Lewis replies, “I don’t think he’s even looked at his phone this morning. He’s also not very good company at the moment so you might be better going to Lorenzo,” 

“I thought he might still be in bed,” Arthur sighs, “Today is always hard. Can you ask him to ring me later? I want to talk to him,” 

“Yeah of course, kid. I’ll tell him to give you a ring,” Sebastian assures him, glancing at Lewis, “What do you mean about today being hard?” 

“It’s five years today since Dad died,” Arthur murmurs, “You knew that right?” 

Sebastian’s face pales and he doesn’t need to look at his boyfriend to know he’s regretting being so hard on Charles this morning as much as him. The muttered cursing coming from the seat next to him is indication enough that he had also forgotten the date. 

“I knew it was coming up,” Sebastian gripes, rubbing his hand down the side of his face, “I just didn’t realise it was today. I’m sorry, Arthur. We are going to go and talk with Charles then I’ll ask him to give you a call. You’re holding up okay? You know you’re always welcome here if you want a break from Monaco,” 

“Thanks Seb,” Arthur whispers down the phone, “I think it’ll be better if I stay with Mum today. Just ask Charles to ring me please,” 

“Of course. Look after yourself, kiddo,” Sebastian retorts, ending the call and sighing at the grimace on his boyfriend’s face. 

“We’re terrible people,” Lewis groans, dropping his head back against the seat, “How did we forget it was five years today? No wonder Charles was so quiet last night,” 

“The date didn’t register in my head. Fuck, I was such a dick to him this morning. Let’s go and make sure he’s doing alright,” 

They exit the car, slipping off their shoes and sunglasses at the door before creeping up the stairs, sharing a concerned look when Charles is still cocooned in the duvet. 

“Charlie,” Lewis murmurs, perching on the edge of the bed and lowering the duvet to see his boyfriend’s face, sighing when he’s met with red rimmed green eyes, “Oh sweetheart. I’m sorry we left you alone,” He lies down on the bed, shuffling under the duvet and pulling the younger man into his arms, “We didn’t realise what day it was. I know it can’t be an easy day for you,” 

“It’s not,” Charles whimpers, snuggling into Lewis’ chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Charles,” Sebastian says, clambering over the two bodies in the bed and sliding in next to the younger man, his front pressed to Charles’ back, “I should have realised. What can we do?” 

Charles shuffles around in the bed to look at him, grasping both their hands, “You can call your Dads and tell them you love them. You can be grateful everyday that you still have them because one day you won’t and you’ll wish,” He chokes on a sob, letting go of their hands to rag them through his unruly hair, “You’ll wish you spent more time with them. You’ll wish you didn’t ignore their texts or only half listen when they were trying to tell you a story,” 

The words make Sebastian tear up slightly. It’s such a Charles thing to say. It’s just like Charles to be so selfless that even when he’s hurting all he can think about is that he doesn’t want them to go through the same pain he has to suffer everyday. 

Charles doesn’t tend to talk about his Father. He was only nineteen when he died. A kid. He’s had to get through some of the hardest bits of life without a Father to hold him when things got tough. Without calming words whispered to him when it felt like the world was too loud. 

He thinks about his own Father and how he’ll come to the Aston Martin garage when he tells him he’s struggling. He thinks about how he can call him and any worry he had will be diminished with a few words of stellar advice and comfort. 

His heart breaks for Charles who doesn’t have that. His heart breaks for Charles who desperately seeks a father figure in Mattia only to be let down. 

“We will do that, Charlie,” He promises, “But what can we do for you?” 

“Can you just lie down with me?” 

“Charlie, sweetheart,” Lewis whispers, replacing his boyfriend’s hands in his hair with his own and combing his fingers through the dark locks, “Of course we’ll lie down with you. There’s nowhere else we’d rather be,” 

The room is engulfed with silence as they lie in the bed, Charles wrapped between them, the occasional sniffle breaking through the quiet. 

“I remember when we were little…” Charles’ scratchy voice breaks the silence, barely above a whisper, and their eyes flick to him with nothing but love and patience, “My mum used to work Saturdays, so it was mine and Arthur’s special day with Dad. Enzo was already a teenager by then and going out with his friends. Arthur and I had a made-up restaurant, using one of those play kitchens, and we'd beg Dad to come be a customer. He’d always order really stupid things and we used to get so annoyed at him, shouting at him for ruining the game because we obviously didn’t have it. He’d just laugh. I remember being so angry at the time and going off to my room in a sulk but now it’s one of my favourite memories, because he just wanted to make us laugh,” 

Sebastian huffs a laugh, smiling at his boyfriend, “It sounds like he was a really good Dad, Charlie,” 

“He was. He would have loved you both. Well he did love you both. We used to watch you on TV and he’d tell me one day you’ll be as good as them Charles, one day you’ll be better,” 

“He was a very wise man,” Lewis remarks on a grin, “He knew you would go onto be the future of the sport,” 

Charles hums, deep in thought, when a smile appears on his face, “I remember one time when I was maybe only seven, I woke up from a really bad nightmare and I was too scared to go back to sleep. My Dad was the only one still awake and he’d been watching TV. He saw that I was really scared so he made me put my coat on over my pyjamas and took me out for pizza. It was the middle of the night and my Mum never let eat us junk food. He made me promise I wouldn’t tell her. It was our little secret. I still haven’t ever told her even though she’d probably just find it funny now. Somethings I want to just keep between me and him,”

“I don’t think she’d mind you keeping that to yourself, Charlie,” Sebastian murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the younger man’s cheek, “It’s a memory you can keep forever,” 

“I wish he was here,” Charles croaks, scrubbing at his eyes, “I wish he was here to tell me he’s proud of me…I hope he’s proud of me,” 

“Of course he’d proud of you, sweetheart,” Lewis retorts fiercely, “He’ll be proud of you everyday just like everyone else is,” 

“I want to win a championship for him,” 

Sebastian smiles sadly, cupping the younger man’s cheek, “He wouldn’t want you to win it for him, Charles. He would want you to win it for you,” 

“I miss him,” 

His dad wasn’t only his first love, he was also his hero. He was the one to show him how things should be done, and why they should be done. Always providing moral and meaning, not just showing but explaining.

And five years later, all that’s left is the memories and lessons, the love and the morals that his father so dearly instilled in him. The man did everything for his family; he stripped the clothes off his back to warm them when he himself was cold. He put in extra hours of the day just to make sure Charles’ dream of being a race driver could be fulfilled. He taught him what a man should be. 

He used to feel guilty for not spending longer at the hospital with his Dad. It hurt him to see the man so sick though, so frail, when his entire life he’d been so strong. 

But his Dad didn’t want him to stay. He wanted him to race. He wanted him to be a Ferrari driver. Charles wishes his Dad could see him. He wishes he saw him in Monza. He wishes he could pick up the phone and ask for advice on the inner team struggles they are having. 

He wishes he didn’t have to live the rest of his life without a Father. Another person that loves him unconditionally. That is proud of him no matter what. 

He doesn’t believe in God but he believes his Father is watching over him with the same smile that he had from the side of the kart track. 
_______________________________________________

It’s these moments that Charles finds himself craving more. The quiet moments. There’s no pressure to keep Ferrari at the top. There’s no Mattia breathing down his neck. There’s no reporters in his face drilling him on the team’s lack of strategy. 

The TV is playing a cheesy romantic comedy that the three of them are barely watching. Their fingers drawing patterns on each other’s skin. Sebastian is reading a book occasionally looking over the top of the pages when the film peeks his interest. Lewis and Charles are scrolling through their phones stopping to show the other a funny meme from the most recent gran prix, or a fan’s edit. 

A slow song echoes through the TV speakers and Charles glances up at the screen watching the scene of a family sitting around having breakfast. It’s mundane, not particularly special. Not an important part of the film. 

But it makes him smile. He dreams of one day having his own family; of being as good of a Dad as his own was, of supporting his kids through everything, of having a family that he’ll wake up to everyday. 

“Do you two want kids?” He asks, breaking the peaceful atmosphere in the room. He can feel his boyfriends’ eyes on him. They’d never discussed it before. Maybe they should have. 

“I think you’re a bit young to be thinking about kids, Charles. You’re barely into adulthood yourself,” Sebastian replies quietly, slowly, a sign he doesn’t want this conversation to go any further. 

Charles thinks about arguing he’s been an adult for six years. He thinks about shooting the man a glare. Instead he smiles and shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t mean right now. I mean when I’ve retired. Do you two want kids?” 

Lewis eyes him and Charles can see the cogs turning in his brain. 

“I think I do,” Lewis murmurs, “I always liked the idea of having them once I retired,” 

He feels his body stiffen. It’s not like he’d ever put much thought into when they would have children, or if they ever even would, but how could he not have realised that Lewis and Sebastian would want kids before him?

They would want to start a family once they retired, leaving Charles racing for the next ten years and not being able to be a part of his own children’s lives. 

“You want to retire next year though,” He observes, searching Lewis’ eyes for any hope that he’s got this wrong, that he’s not planning a life without him, but he finds nothing. 

“If we wait for you to retire then Lewis and I could be almost 50. I don’t want to have kids when I’m that age. It’s not fair on them or us,” Sebastian adds evenly, placing his book on the table when Charles bolts upright on the sofa to stare at him. 

“That’s not fair on me. I want to be a part of my children’s lives, not just someone they see between races,” Charles utters, staring at the love of his life wondering how he could say something like that so matter-of-factly. As if it hasn’t just thrown Charles’ life in array. As if it hasn’t made him feel like his whole world is crashing down. 

Lewis and Sebastian are the ones he planned his life with. Racing. Houses. Marriage. Children. He fit them into his life like silly putty, oozing it into the cracks and empty spaces. 

They have planned a life that he is merely a side character in. 

Lewis sighs, reaching out his hand to cup Charles’ nape, squeezing it slightly, “It’s not something we need to discuss right now, Charlie. This is all hypothetical at the moment,” 

“It’s not!” Charles spits, shrugging off the man’s hand, “It’s not hypothetical because you two are going to retire soon and you want to start a life without me!”

“Charles,” Sebastian cautions, turning on the sofa to look at the younger man, “We aren’t planning anything without you. You’re in our life now and you always will be. We don’t plan on having children anytime soon,” 

“When then?” Charles barks, narrowing his eyes, looking between them, “When do you plan on having them?” 

“God, I don’t know, Charles,” Lewis hisses, the annoyance at his boyfriend’s attitude seeping into his words, “We haven’t thought too much about it. Maybe in a couple of years,” 

“A couple of years?” Charles splutters, standing up from the sofa, pacing around the room, “In a couple of years I will still be in the prime of my career! I’ll be 26! I might not even be a world champion by then!” 

“Calm down, Charles,” Sebastian mutters, running a hand down the side of his face, “This isn’t a big deal. It’s a conversation, that’s it. We are not having children anytime soon. We agreed we’d wait until at least a year after retirement,” 

“It is a big deal! A couple of years isn’t that far away!” Charles argues, stopping in his tracks and flipping around to stare at them, “What do you mean we agreed? You two have spoken about this? You’ve spoken about it without me?” 

Lewis’ eyes flash with guilt and he shrugs his shoulders, “We’ve discussed it briefly. We will be ready to have children before you, Charlie. That’s something we needed to talk about,”

Charles shakes his head in disbelief. It feels like betrayal but it’s not. It’s just how things are between them. He is young. He is busy. They are older, their lives at a different stage than his own. 

Their age difference; most issues in their relationship can be sourced back to it. It’s the one thing that they will never be able to change. It’s the thing holding them back the most. 

Maybe their lives are only compatible now. Maybe in a couple of years they won’t fit together anymore. Their arguments will turn in to fights. Their futures drift apart, the glue holding them together becoming weak and stringy. 

His schedule will be filled with racing, championship dreams, and goals, and theirs will be 4,000 miles away, practically another world, filled with school runs and family dinners. 

“Do you even want to have children with me?” Charles sobs, turning away from them and seeing the family on the screen, his heart breaking at the thought he might never get to have that. He won’t get to have the breakfasts, the sport games, the scraped knees, because he will be on the other side of the world. 

“Of course we do, Charles,” Sebastian groans, “When we have children they will be our children. It will be our life,” 

“It won’t be. I won’t be there. I’ll be an absent Father and I don’t want that. You can’t have children before I retire, it won’t be fair,” 

Sebastian scoffs, “Well it won’t be fair for us to wait either, Charles,” He hisses, sighing and reaching an arm out to clasp the younger man’s hand, “Sit down, Charlie. I don’t want to argue about this. It’s not something we need to think about right now,” 

“Of course it is! What’s the point in us being together if we don’t have a future?” 

“We do have a future, Charles,” Lewis grates, “That’s the point though it’s in the future. It’s not something to think about right now,” 

Charles rears around on his feet, tears dripping down his flushed cheeks, a mix of betrayal and loss fused in his emerald eyes, “A future that I’m not a part of! A future where I’ll be on the other side of the world!” 

“That’s not our fault, Charles,” Sebastian snipes, “It’s not something we can change either. You’re the only one that could change that,” 

A humourless laugh escapes his mouth as he stares at the man he’s given his entire heart to. “What do you want me to do, Seb? Retire at 26? Become your little toy boy?” 

“Charles,” Lewis warns, narrowing his eyes on the younger man, “You know that’s not what Seb meant. You’re getting in a state over nothing. Come and sit down,” 

“No,” Charles roars, his voice catching in his throat when a sob erupts from his mouth, “I thought we’d build a life together but you two want to make one without me,”

It feels like his life is crumbling around him, pieces of who he thought he was and who he’s going to be getting lost in the sounds of the film playing from the TV. 

They are the ones he planned his life with, imagined himself at twenty-six, thirty-five, forty-two with children. He shaped his dreams around theirs. No longer his, but all of theirs. And he loves them. He loves them so fiercely. He loves them with everything he has but he’s not sure it’s enough to justify changing how he thought his life would be. 

Lewis stands up, moving over to his boyfriend and wrapping him into a hug, pressing soft kisses to his hair, “Charlie, we do not want to build anything without you. We love you. We all matter in this relationship but there’s some things that we’ll have to compromise on, having children might be one of them,” 

“I don’t want to compromise on that,” Charles whispers into the older man’s shoulder, clinging into him knowing it might be the last time they hold each other, knowing that maybe Lewis and Sebastian aren’t the ones he’s supposed to spend his life with. 

Maybe they’re just the ones right now. Maybe they were supposed to teach him and help him grow before he finds someone that’s life fits into his like a puzzle piece. 

Lewis pulls back, his watery eyes scanning across his boyfriend’s face, “What does that mean, Charles? What are you saying?” 

Charles closes his eyes briefly, inhaling a shaky breath, then looking between Lewis in front of him; tear stained cheeks, hollow eyes, and then at Sebastian on the sofa looking up at him with a hard jaw and narrowed eyes, daring him to say the words, daring him to end it. 

He will be forever grateful for everything they did for him. For loving him at his worst, for helping him when he was too scared to ask for help, for making him laugh when all he wanted to do was cry, for pushing him outside his comfort zone, for trusting him to make the right decisions, for comforting him when he was sick, for sticking around even when at times he pushed them away.

“I need to go,” He whispers, walking past the two men without another word, pausing at the doorway when Sebastian’s raised voice calls after him. 

“Where are you going, Charles? This is ridiculous! None of this matters! You can’t just leave! It’s late! We’ll go to bed and we can talk about it properly tomorrow!” 

“The conversation is always going to go the same way isn’t it? With us wanting things at different times?” Charles asks on a ragged breath, a small glimmer of hope that Sebastian might change his mind. 

The German looks at him and the silence that fills the gap between them is answer enough. Their lives aren’t always going to be compatible. He shakes his head on a sad smile. 

“Where are you going, Charles? You can’t just leave in the middle of the night,” 

“I’m going to Pierre’s,” He answers knowing he hasn’t told his best friend he’s coming but knowing just as well he’d never be turned away. 

 “Oh why am I not surprised?” Sebastian spits, standing up from the sofa and crossing the room to him, “We have an argument and you go running to Pierre! If anything happens between you then we are over, Charles!” 

He could tell Sebastian that nothing would ever happen between him and Pierre. He could tell them he’d never cheat on them no matter how angry or upset he is. He doesn’t though. 

He stares at his boyfriend and whispers, “We already are,” 

Charles is thankful he rented a car because he knew he’d have be back in Maranello at some point during the week. He’s thankful when he gets to the airport there’s a flight to Milan within the hour. 

There’s something about airports that have always made him feel nostalgic. Normally when he’s sitting in one alone he’s either looking forward to going back to Lewis and Sebastian, or he’s just left them and he’s counting down the days until he’ll be seeing them again. 

This time is different. This time he sits on the chair at his terminal and cries. He cries for the life he thought he was going to have. He cries for the life he will no longer have. He cries for Lewis and Sebastian. He cries for the differences that they will never be able to change. 

If Pierre is surprised to have Charles show up at his door at 3am he doesn’t show it. He ushers the crying mess into his apartment, leading him to the sofa and murmuring something about going to get dressed and getting some drinks.

The words are barely audible over Charles’ ragged sobbing. He drops the bag he’d hurriedly packed - whilst Lewis and Sebastian were begging him not to leave - onto the floor and looks around the apartment. 

It’s not often he comes to see his best friend in Milan. They tend to hang out in Monaco so they can meet up with Lando and Alex. The apartment is still the same as the last time he was here though. 

The Monza 2020 trophy is still proudly displayed in a cabinet. There are still framed photos of Pierre and his ex-girlfriend scattered around (although the last time he was here they weren’t exes). There’s still photos of him and Pierre as children, as teenagers, as F1 drivers. Their lives mapped out in frames, key moments and days that didn’t seem important at the time but have come to be some of his fondest memories. 

Pierre sits down next to him wearing more than the boxers he had answered the door in, and forcing a glass of water into his hands, “What did they do?” 

The underlying bitterness to the words isn’t missed by Charles. He knows that Pierre has never been too supportive of his relationship with Lewis and Sebastian. He worried that they were taking advantage of him, he worried they were too old, he worried it wouldn’t work out and Charles would end up heartbroken. 

Charles had shut down his worries, assuring his best friend that they love him, they support him, and Pierre had begrudgingly let it go.

Pierre doesn’t know Lewis and Sebastian like he does. He doesn’t know that they fill their cupboards with sugary cereal they claim will rot his teeth, just because he likes them. Pierre doesn’t know that they spend hours explaining climate change theory, or civil rights history, to him with nothing but patience. 

He should have listened to his best friend. He wishes he hadn’t fallen in love with two people who are at completely different stages of life to him. Two people who were destined to hurt him.

“They want to have children when they retire,” He gripes, his voice scratchy, throat dry from spending the last few hours crying, “They don’t want to wait for me,” 

Pierre’s eyes darken, knuckles clenching around the glass of water in his hand, “They said they want to have children without you?”

“No,” Charles murmurs, shaking his head, “They want us all to have children but they said they don’t want to wait until I’m retired. They said they’ll be too old,” 

“Maybe they would be, Calamar,” Pierre soothes, shuffling over on the sofa and wrapping an arm around the younger man, “They are older than you. You were always going to want to do things at different times. Did you talk about it?” 

“I tried to talk to them about it but they kept shutting me down, saying it doesn’t matter at the moment. Seb said we could talk about it tomorrow…”

“And you left,” Pierre concludes on a sigh. 

“I came here,” 

“This is something you all need to talk about. It’s not a little thing. It’s a big thing. A life changing thing. If you all can’t come to some kind of compromise then you’ll have to be selfish and think about what it is you want,” 

Charles nods on a sniffle, sipping at his glass of water, “I want to raise my children. I don’t want to miss out on the little moments. I want to be there for everything. I want to see them grow a bit everyday. I want them to know I’ll always be there when they get home from school,” 

“Then you tell them that, Charles. You tell them everything you want and I think they’ll try to give it to you. They’d do anything for you,” 

A smirk tugs at his lips and he peeks up at his best friend through dark lashes, “You have changed your tune,” 

Pierre rolls his eyes, gently pushing his shoulder, “I still have my reservations but I’ve seen the three of you together. I know they love you and they protect you. I know you love them. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, Calamar, and I think you’re with them,” 

“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with them. I can’t imagine a life without them in it,” 

“Then you talk about it, okay? You go back tomorrow and you sort this out. Tonight you stay here but tomorrow you go,” Pierre says, ruffling the head of dark hair on his chest, “Let’s go to sleep. It’s late and you woke me up from a good dream,” 

“Can I sleep in your bed?” 

He’s craving simpler times. He wants to pretend he’s just a small boy and they’re on holiday, sharing a bed together and playing on their PSPs. He wants to exist before life had hurt him, before he’d had his heartbroken one too many times. 

Pierre gives him the same smile he’s had since they were kids and pulls him off the sofa.

Charles wakes up on a groan when there’s loud, persistent knocking echoing around the apartment. He groans again when he picks up his phone and sees it’s only 9am, deliberately ignoring the notifications of all the missed calls and texts from his boyfriends in favour of just seeing them later. It feels like he’s only been asleep for five minutes. 

He kicks the leg next to him, “There’s someone at your door,” 

Pierre moans, sitting up in the bed with dazed eyes and his hair sticking up in every direction, “It’s probably a parcel,” He mutters half awake, slinking out of the room. 

Charles closes his eyes and drifts back into a peaceful sleep. 

Pierre swings the door open and is only mildly surprised when he comes face to face with Lewis and Sebastian. 

“Where’s Charles?” Sebastian snaps, trying to look behind the younger man.

“Good Morning to you too,” 

Sebastian’s eyes darken and Lewis sighs, squeezing the man’s shoulder in warning, looking back at the Frenchman, “Is he here, Pierre? We need to talk to him,” 

“He’s in bed. He didn’t go to sleep until late,” Pierre snaps, accusing eyes burning into the two older men.

“In your bed?” Sebastian grates, “I should have known that you would take advantage of him being upset to -“ 

“Sebastian,” Lewis snaps, glaring at his boyfriend, before shooting apologetic eyes at Pierre, “Don’t listen to him. He’s worried about Charles and he hasn’t had much sleep. Can we see him?” 

“Just so you know, Seb,” Pierre barks, “Nothing has ever happened between me and Charles. I like girls and as pretty as Charles is he doesn’t have the right equipment for me, if you know what I mean. He’s my best friend though and I will always protect him. You’ve really hurt him!” 

“We know we have and that’s why we need to see him, please let us in, Pierre,” Lewis begs, breathing a sigh of relief when the younger man steps aside on a sigh.

They walk into the reasonably sized apartment looking around at the various doors then back over at Pierre who points one out on a glare. 

Charles opens his bleary eyes, once again being dragged out of a deep sleep by loud noises. He blinks a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the room and bolting up in the bed when he sees Lewis and Sebastian standing at the end of it. 

“Charlie,” Sebastian breathes, rushing over and perching down next to him, wrapping him in his arms, “I was so worried about you. You were in such a state when you left,”

Charles melts into the older man’s arms, the ones that he’s certain were made to hold him, “I told you I was coming here,” He mumbles into the man’s shoulder, pouting when his boyfriend pulls back on a glare. 

“You didn’t answer our texts or calls,” Lewis accuses, sitting down next to them, “We didn’t even know if you’d got here,” 

The guilt washes over him and he looks between them on a pout, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to talk,” 

“It’s okay, Charlie,” Lewis soothes, reaching an arm past Sebastian to cup his cheek, “You’re okay and that’s all that matters. We can talk now,” 

Pierre, who had been watching the scene unfold  from the doorway, sighs on a roll of the eyes, “I guess I’m not going back to sleep then,” He mutters, closing the door but stopping at the last minute, “I’m just out here if you need me, Calamar. I’ll make them leave if you don’t want them here,” 

Sebastian shoots the Frenchman a glare and Charles smiles slightly, “Thanks Pierre. It’s okay. We’ll still get lunch later,” 

Pierre nods, shooting a warning look at the older men, before shutting the door. 

“Charles, I’m sorry about how we handled last night. The conversation came out of nowhere and we weren’t expecting it,” Sebastian murmurs, “Although with you we should know by now to expect the unexpected. You’re one of the most random people I know,” 

Sebastian’s soft smile causes a matching one to appear on his face, “I know it was random but it’s something we should have spoken about before. There’s no point in us being together if it’ll only mean we’re going to break up in a couple of years,”

“Why would we break up, Charles?” Lewis questions, dropping his fingers from the younger man’s cheek to clasp his hand, “This whole argument started because we want things at different times. We all want the same things though and that’s the most important. We can compromise on when we do it,” 

“You’d wait for me to retire?” Charles asks, peeking up at him on a surprised smile. 

“I don’t want to promise you that we’ll definitely wait until you retire. That is likely going to be at the minimum a decade away. We can reassess though. Maybe in five years we can talk about this? You’ll be well in to your career by then. Does that seem fair? You will always be involved in these decisions, Charles. We’re sorry for making you feel like you weren’t. This is your life as much as it is ours, but we are older than you and that’s something that will impact on these decisions. Does that seem fair?” 

“5 years?” Charles muses, a smirk tugging at his lips, “I’ll be 29. Younger than both of you now,” 

Lewis scoffs, “Thanks for that, Charlie. You’ll still be young but you won’t be too young anymore. It wasn’t fair of Seb and I to expect you to have kids at 26 and just go along with it,” 

“I want to be a real Father. I want to be there for my children everyday. I want to see them grow,” Charles murmurs, looking between them, “I deserve that,” 

“You do,” Lewis agrees, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead, “We want you to have that too, Charles. That’s why we think we should talk about this again in five years. We can make some decisions and figure out the rest then,” 

“We would all have to agree though, right? What if I decide I’m still not ready in five years?” 

“Then we can talk about it. We won’t have children until you’re ready, Charles, but I hope you’ll also take our desires into consideration,” Sebastian replies evenly, squeezing his shoulder. 

“Five years,” Charles nods on a smile, “Let’s talk about it in five years,”

“Are you going to come back to Switzerland with us?“ Sebastian asks hopefully, pressing a kiss to his lips, “We love you, Charlie. Come home,” 

“I’m getting lunch with Pierre first. You two should come. We never all hang out together,” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes and Charles grins, “You need to get over this being jealous of Pierre thing, Seb,” 

“I’ve told you I’m not jealous!” Sebastian splutters on narrowed eyes. 

Charles arches an eyebrow at him and glances over at Lewis who is grinning whilst he mouths he’s jealous. 

Sebastian looks between them on a glare, “What are you two saying to each other? I’m not jealous,” He hisses, “I’m happy to go out for lunch with Pierre,” 

“Yeah you really look it,” Lewis drawls, easily holding the scowl Sebastian shoots at him. 

“You two are so annoying,” Sebastian snaps, “Why do we ever need to have children when I have you two? You do a pretty good job of it yourselves,” 

Lewis and Charles grin at each other before bursting into laughter which only gets louder when Sebastian rolls his eyes on a pout. 

“I’ll give you something to laugh about,” Sebastian taunts, turning back to Charles with mischievous eyes, grinning when the younger man’s eyes widen in panic. 

Chapter Text

Charles rolls his eyes when he walks into Sebastian’s hotel room to find his boyfriends cuddled up under a blanket on the sofa, the TV playing some baking show.  

“You two look cosy,” He remarks on a grin, throwing his bag on the floor and moving to stand in front of them, “I told Alex we’d meet him and George at the club in an hour. Will you be ready?” 

Sebastian releases a long breath that turns into a yawn, looking up at the younger man with bleary eyes, “Charlie, I’m really not in the mood to go out. It’s been a long day. You go out and celebrate your podium with your friends,” 

Charles narrows his eyes, hands resting on his hips, “You promised that you were going to come out with us! You can’t be that tired. We all raced today,” He moans, dropping his arms to his sides on a pout, “Just come for a bit please. You never spend any time with my friends,” 

“George is my teammate,” Lewis deadpans, “I spend more time with him than anyone else. Charlie, we are not 24 anymore. We get tired after racing in the heat all day. Just go out with your friends and then come back here after,” 

“I want us all to go out together! You both used to go out all the time but now you never do. I have to go to those stupid dinner parties with Jenson and Kimi with you so do this for me,” 

Sebastian scoffs, “You’re not exactly the best company at those dinner parties, Charles. You just sit there acting moody all night,” 

“Because they’re so much older than me! And they take the piss out of me for that!” 

“Charlie,” Lewis sighs on a roll of the eyes, “You know they’re only joking. They like you a lot,” 

Charles is fairly certain that Jenson and Kimi do like him. He always thought Kimi might hold the Ferrari seat against him but he’s become friends with the man since being in a relationship with Sebastian. Jenson has always been kind to him even if at times it feels like he can patronise him. 

Still, the dinner parties with them and their wives aren’t something he particularly looks forward to. It’s an excuse for the older drivers to reminisce about the good old days whilst he sits there half listening. 

When he’s out with any of the younger drivers they have fun. The friendship Lewis and Sebastian have with Jenson and Kimi is what he has with the likes of George, Alex, and Lando. They’ve known each other for over a decade. 

He wants Lewis and Sebastian to spend time with them, he wants them to be a part of that aspect of his life. The older men are always reluctant though.

“Yeah I’m sure,” Charles mutters, folding his arms across his chest, “Just come out for a bit. I already told everyone you’re coming,” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes, looking away from his boyfriend and back at the TV behind him, “Any night out with you and your friends just ends up with us being glorified babysitters,” 

“We are not children, Sebastian!” Charles hisses, grabbing the remote off the sofa and turning the TV off, easily holding the glares his boyfriends shoot him, “We’ll have a good time, please, come,” 

“I really don’t fancy spending the night watching you and your friends get progressively drunk only to have to make sure they all get back safe and then carry you home when you’re half passed out,” Sebastian snaps, holding out his hand on an arched eyebrow, “Give me the remote, Charles,” 

Charles holds it out of his reach, pouting, “I won’t get really drunk. We’ll just have a few drinks,” 

“You say that every time,” Lewis grumbles, recalling practically every night out they’d ever been on with the younger drivers and how it always ends with them lining up shots on the table until they’re barely able to remember their own names. 

Ten years ago that would have been him and Sebastian. Ten years ago they would have been just as eager to go out and get hammered as Charles. Ten years ago his hangovers didn’t last three days though. No one ever said ageing was fun. 

“You two are so boring!” Charles spits, throwing the remote at Sebastian’s chest on a glare, “Watch your stupid show and I’ll go out with my friends. Maybe I’ll even meet a nice girl,” 

“Shut up, Charles,” The German warns, narrowing his eyes on the younger man, “Go out with your friends and have a good time. Just don’t do anything stupid,” 

Charles scoffs and goes to stalk past the sofa, stopping when Lewis’ hand comes out to grasp his arm, “Be safe. I love you, Charlie,” 

“Do you?” Charles retorts bitterly, trying and failing to pull his arm free of his boyfriend’s iron clad grip. 

“Yes I do, you know that,” Lewis grates, tugging at the younger man’s forearm, “Sit down for a second,” 

“I need to go and meet Alex and George,” Charles whines, rolling his eyes at the i’m not taking your shit look on Lewis’ face, but sitting down between the older men anyway. 

Lewis’ arm wraps around his shoulders as he presses a soft kiss to his temple, “It’s not that we don’t want to spend time with you, Charles. It’s just that getting black out drunk isn’t as fun for us anymore. The hangovers hit harder in your thirties than in your twenties,” 

“You go out with Jenson and Kimi,” Charles mutters on a pout, knowing he sounds exactly like a child not getting his way but not caring in the slightest. 

It’s the role in their relationship he’s accepted. Lewis and Sebastian are older than him; they’re more mature, more worldly, and they don’t have any issues reminding him of that. 

Sometimes it feels like they don’t take him seriously though. It’s almost like they look down on him - the condescending tones, the eye rolls, the mildly amused expressions when he talks about how it feels like life is moving too quickly. 

“It’s different,” Lewis sighs, stroking a hand through his boyfriend’s hair when he furrows his brows, “Look, Charlie when we go out with Jenson and Kimi it’s just catching up with old friends. When we go out with you and your friends it feels like we can’t enjoy ourselves because we are worrying about all of you. You, especially, because when you’re with them you think it’s a good idea to get so drunk you can’t stand up,” 

“You don’t need to protect me, Lewis,” Charles exclaims, “I’m not a child. I’ve been going out drinking with George and Alex since we were old enough to get into bars. I just want to spend time with all of you together,”

“We always feel protective of you, Charles,” Sebastian grumbles, “We love you,” 

“You treat me different to how you treat each other,” Charles accuses, looking between them, “You don’t take me seriously,” 

“Of course we take you seriously,” Lewis rushes out, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek, “It’s just you’re only 24, Charlie. When I think of myself at that age I was still practically a kid,”

“I’m not a kid, Lewis, don’t call me a kid,” 

“I know you’re not, sweetheart. I’m not saying you are, I’m just saying that’s how I felt at 24. At the end of the day, Charlie, we are a lot older than you and that’s going to be a factor in our relationship. It won’t always be but right now when we are at such different stages in life it will be. I’m sorry we’ve made you feel like we don’t take you seriously. We do,” 

“It would be easier if I was older,” Charles mutters, leaning his head back against the sofa. 

He wonders if they would argue less, if they would agree more, if he was the same age as them; if they had all already been through over a decade of racing together, if they’d all already learnt the same life lessons. 

Instead he’s left trailing at least ten years behind them. Lewis and Sebastian have seen things, felt things, learnt things that he is still yet to know. 

“Well if we could choose I think I’d probably just make myself younger,” Sebastian quips, grinning at his boyfriend, “It’s not an issue, Charlie, not really. We have a good relationship,” 

“We do, I guess. We argue a lot though,”  He mumbles, snuggling into the older man’s side.

Sebastian shrugs his shoulders with an amused smile, “We argue sometimes. We have more fun. Our relationship will only be in trouble when we have more good times than bad. I don’t see that happening. We’re going to be alright, Charles,” 

“So you’re not going to come out with me?” 

Sebastian grimaces, shaking his head, “Not tonight, Charlie. You have a good night though. Just please don’t get so drunk that we get a call from George saying you’re walking around the streets shirtless and you’re about to get a tattoo of our faces on your chest,” 

Charles’ face flushes and he shoots his boyfriend a glare, “That was one time, when are you going to let that go?” 

“Never,” Sebastian retorts on a grin, snaking a hand under the younger man’s t-shirt to rest on his chest, caressing the soft skin, “I’m glad Alex managed to talk some sense into you though. I don’t know how I’d feel seeing my face on your body everyday,” 

“It would have been an issue when you’re doing your little strip teases for Ferrari’s Tik Tok too. I’m not sure you’d get away with saying you got it because you admire us,” Lewis comments on a smirk, laughing at the unimpressed look on his boyfriend’s face, “You’re cute, Charlie. I love you so much,” 

“I know,” Charles murmurs, pressing kisses to both the mens’ lips and pushing himself up from the sofa, “I need to go now. I won’t be out late, I’ll miss you,” 

_______________________________________________

The winter break has been a welcome distraction after the hellish 2022 season. The championship had ended up coming down to the last race with Charles taking his first - only two points ahead of Max. 

His boyfriend is still sailing on the high of being the world champion and Sebastian is glad to see him looking so carefree everyday, compared to the exhaustion that overtook his body for the last few races.

He watches Lewis and Charles out of the window as they shovel the snow off the driveway. It’s something they tend to do together but when a call came through on his phone from an Italian number he excused himself. 

Now he’s watching the younger man and wondering how he’s going to approach the subject of the phone call with him. 

It was a surprise to say the least when he answered his phone to a Ferrari executive. The only connection he still has to the team is through his boyfriend and no one knew about that. 

So when Bendito had informed him that Mattia has been sacked as team principal and asked if he would be interested in the job, he was speechless. He still is speechless. 

Sebastian knows he shouldn’t take it. He’s in love with their golden boy - they live together for most of the year. Yet, he wants it so badly. It was only after the last race in Abu Dhabi that he realised how much he’d miss racing. 

He loves Ferrari too. Sure, they have a rocky past but everyone is a Ferrari fan, and not just because of who their star is. 

He knows if any of the Ferrari executives knew about his relationship with Charles then he would have never been offered the position. He also knows if they were to find out about it there would be a scandal that could potentially ruin Charles’ career. 

He would never risk his boyfriend’s career. Charles is too talented to have something like this impact on his racing. But Sebastian can’t help the part of his brain that is telling him they could get away with it. 

They’d been in a relationship for two years now and no one is the wiser. They’re all experts at hiding their feelings for each other in public, and only admiring the other in private. 

If you were to ask any of the media, or even anyone on the grid - they’d tell you that Sebastian holds resentment for his former teammate after being able to do with Ferrari what he never could. 

So, they could make it work. It wouldn’t be too hard. Sebastian has no issue criticising his boyfriend’s reckless moves on track, in fact he and Lewis did it often. Charles rolling his eyes at them but nodding along anyway, knowing they would only be saying it if it really was too risky. 

“Charles is finishing it off,” Lewis calls, walking through the kitchen door, pausing in the doorway when he takes in the German’s face, “Are you alright? Who was on the phone?” 

“Bendito Vigna,” Is all he replies, turning to look at his boyfriend, smiling slightly at the lost look on the older man’s face, “The CEO of Ferrari,” He clarifies. 

Lewis frowns, crossing the room to him, “Ferrari? Why are they calling you? Are they trying to get hold of Charles?” 

“No,” Sebastian huffs a laugh, although he’ll admit that would probably make more sense, “They offered me the job as team principal starting this season,” He watches Lewis’ face, gauging his reaction to figure out how big of a deal this really is, or if it just seems like a big deal to him. 

“Shit, man,” Lewis mumbles, blowing out a breath, “Well what did you say?” 

“I said I’d think about it,” He replies dismissively, trying to hide the disappointment at his boyfriend’s reaction. Lewis’ face says it all. It’s a bad idea. 

His boyfriend cups his face between his hands on a soft smile, “There’s no one that’s better suited to that job than you, Seb. You would be an amazing team principal. Do you want to take it?” 

Images of him and Charles as teammates arguing in drivers rooms, debriefs, and hotel rooms flash through his mind. Their relationship always suffered being on the same team but things would be different this time. He would be rooting for Charles’ success. 

Things would be different. 

“I want to take it,” He confesses quietly, eyes sliding to the window where Charles is still heaving the spade around the garden, “Charlie, though,” He murmurs, “I don’t know how he’ll react. I don’t know if it’s fair,” 

“It’ll be different than when you were teammates, Seb,” Lewis says, as if he could read his mind, “But it won’t be easy. You’ll be in charge of him. Something like this could have a massive impact on our relationship,” 

“He won’t like me being in charge,” 

Lewis gives him a half smile, “I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit. He respects you, Seb, and he’d be happy to have you around the track. Be honest with him,” 

Sebastian hums, looking back at his boyfriend in front of him, “How would you feel if I came back to be your team principal?” 

“Have you had a call from Mercedes too?” Lewis laughs, pursing his lips when the German narrows his eyes, “I don’t know, Seb. It wouldn’t be ideal but we have a different relationship than you and Charles. We have the same level of experience. You have already taught Charles a lot and you could teach him a lot more,” 

“This could ruin our relationship,” Sebastian sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

“Or it could make it stronger and you can help Charles win a few more championships. Just talk to him about it, Seb,” Lewis reinforces, pressing a kiss to the man’s lips, “Maybe wait until dinner though when he’s not just got back in from freezing his balls off,” 

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Sebastian announces, smiling sheepishly when he realises Charles is still babbling on about the Christmas present he’s bought for his Mother and he’s interrupted him. 

Charles frowns, taking in the serious tone of the older man’s voice, flicking concerned eyes over at Lewis. The memories of Sebastian telling him he’s retiring in exactly the same way reverberating around his mind. “Is everything alright?”

Sebastian can’t help the eye roll at his boyfriend who has a mouth full of food but still asks the question. 

“Don’t speak with your mouthful Charles,” He chides fondly, “But yes everything is fine. I had a call from Bendito Vigna earlier,” 

He looks expectantly at Charles hoping he’d grasp where the conversation is going but the younger man just furrows his brows.

“Who? Is he something to do with climate change?” 

He shouldn’t be surprised that Charles has no idea who the Ferrari CEO is. His boyfriend often goes through life not knowing too much about things he doesn’t deem relevant. He races for Ferrari and does what they ask of him for the media. In his mind that’s all he needs to know. 

“Bendito Vigna is the CEO of Ferrari, Charlie. You really should know that,” He replies on a smirk, trying not to come across as condescending but struggling to keep his tone neutral.

Charles doesn’t seem to notice though, too shocked by the new information. “Why did he call you? Does he know about us? Fuck, Seb!” 

Sebastian reaches a hand out across the table and grasps his boyfriend’s. “No, he doesn’t know, Charlie. He was ringing to tell me Mattia has been sacked,” 

“Oh yeah I know that”, Charles replies before narrowing his eyes, “Wait why did he tell you that? You left Ferrari years ago,”

“He offered me the job as team principle starting next season,” Sebastian says slowly, watching every muscle twitch on the younger man’s face, and the way his eyes dart to Lewis’. 

“Are you serious?” Charles asks, pulling his hand back and looking between them, “Is this a joke? Are you two trying to trick me?” 

Lewis raises his hands in mock surrender, “This is nothing to do with me. It’s not a joke though, Charles. Seb told me earlier,” 

Charles looks over the table at the German feeling slightly guilty when he sees the defeated look on the man’s face. 

“You’re going to be my team principal?” He asks trying to process the revelation, trying not to act like a spoilt brat at the thought of Sebastian coming into the team he’s made his own just to take over. 

“I haven’t accepted it, Charles. I won’t accept it if you won’t feel comfortable with it. I know this is a big deal,” 

“You want to accept though,” It’s not a question. He can see from the hopeful glint in the older man’s eyes that he wants this. 

If this was two years ago he’d be elated at the idea of Sebastian being his team principal. The older man had always supported him better than Mattia ever had when they were teammates. 

Things are different now though and they’re in a committed relationship. The thought of Sebastian criticising him in debriefs, praising Carlos over him, sends shivers up his spine. They would argue. They would resent each other. 

Sebastian will resent him if he doesn’t let him take this opportunity. He’ll resent himself for holding his boyfriend back. Sebastian Vettel belongs on the track even if it is only on the sidelines. 

“It doesn’t matter what I want. I won’t take this job if you’re not comfortable with it,” 

Charles looks up at him through dark lashes, “You’ll be my boss,” 

“I won’t, well I suppose…” Sebastian babbles, dragging a hand through his hair, knowing he could try and sugarcoat it but it wouldn’t be the truth. He would be Charles’ boss. Charles would have to listen to him. 

“You should take it,” Charles murmurs, not sounding entirely convinced. 

Sebastian sighs looking over at Lewis who smiles sympathetically back, “Charlie, you don’t want me to. I get it. I’m not sure how I’d feel about you or Lewis being my team principal either. It’s fine. I just wanted to run it by you and see what you’d think. I’m not taking the job. They’ll find someone else,” 

“No, you should, really,” Charles reinforces firmly, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes, “You would be a good team principal. Carlos and I always said it. You should take it, Seb,” 

“Are you sure?” Sebastian questions, “Charles this could make our relationship more difficult. It wouldn’t be like when we were teammates. We won’t be equals anymore. I’ll be leading the team. I’ll be leading you,” 

“This won’t affect our relationship?” 

“No,” Sebastian answers quickly, “No, we’ll try to make sure it won’t. I love you, Charles. We’ll separate work from our private life,” 

Charles nods slightly, looking over at the Brit, “What do you think, Lewis?” 

Lewis shrugs his shoulders on a half smile, “I think it’s a good opportunity but this isn’t about me. It’s about you two,” 

“Take the job, Seb. It could be fun,” Charles states on a soft smile, or it could tear us apart, he thinks. 
_______________________________________________

The debrief had reminded him of their ones in 2019. The younger man sat across the table with a taunting half smile on his face knowing he had the full backing of the team. 

He saw the barely subdued anger on Carlos’ face and was transported back to their Brazil debrief - Charles readily justifying his actions unable to see he had been in the wrong. 

Sebastian slams the door of Charles’ drivers room open on a glare. A glare that only intensifies when his boyfriend turns around to him on a smug smirk, “Good result today,” 

“Good result?” Sebastian snaps, crossing the room to him and forcing him back against the wall, “You ignored team orders! You were supposed to stay behind Carlos!” 

“I won, Seb!” Charles argues, eyes wide and manic, struggling against the man’s body weight pinning him to the wall, “I was quicker! I wasn’t going to let the win slip out of my fingers!” 

“We have team orders for a reason, Charles. I thought you were a team player. Carlos is pissed off and so am I. Don’t think just because we are together I’ll let you get away with this shit,” 

“When you were still racing you used to tell me to ignore team orders! You told me to look out for myself! That’s what I’m doing!” 

Sebastian growls, relinquishing his weight against the younger man and running a hand through his hair, “It was different then. Mattia didn’t know how to run the team. I do know how to run a team and when I give you team orders I expect you to follow them. I don’t know who you think you are but this cannot happen again,” 

Charles laughs bitterly, leaning down to his boyfriend’s ear and whispering, “I’m a world champion, Seb. I’m Ferrari’s only world champion in fifteen years. I did something you could never do. Ferrari is my team, not yours,” 

Sebastian pushes him away on a scowl, desperately trying to keep his cool and act as a team principal would and not like Charles’ boyfriend where he would scream at him for being an arrogant fuck, “You have changed, Charles. Winning the championship has made you even more arrogant and it’s not a good look. If you keep acting like this then people will turn against you. I’m trying to look out for you here,” 

Charles’ eyebrows hit his hairline, “I thought you were looking out for the team?” 

“I am,” Sebastian concedes, cupping the younger man’s cheek, “It’s my job now, Charles. I have to be objective, I can’t favour you just because I love you. You will always come first in my personal life but the team will in my professional life. You need to listen to me,” 

“I don’t need to listen to you, Seb. I just need to win races,” Charles replies evenly, shrugging his shoulders at the look of anger on his boyfriend’s face, “Isn’t that the kind of stuff you used to say back in your redbull days? I’ve learnt from you, Seb,” 

“Shut up, Charles. Go and talk to Carlos. I don’t care if you apologise but at least talk to him. I can’t have you and him crashing out on the track because you’re not thinking of the team,” 

“Aren’t you even going to congratulate me on my win?” Charles grins, pressing a kiss to the German’s cheek, “I’m going out with some of the mechanics. I’ll meet you at the hotel later. If you see Carlos tell him I’m not sorry and I’d do it again,” 

Sebastian gapes after him, not being able to comprehend the complete audacity of the younger man, “Charles! Come here! We haven’t finished talking about this!” 

Lewis walks into the room, catching Charles by the arm and pulling him into a hug on his way out, “Great race today, Charlie. Congratulations. I’m proud of you,” 

Charles presses a kiss to the older man’s lips, “Thank you, Lew. Congratulations on the podium,” He smiles, shooting a look at their boyfriend, “At least one of you is happy for me,” 

Lewis watches him go on a frown, turning back to Sebastian with furrowed brows, “Have I missed something? I thought you’d be happy. You got a 1-2,” 

“I’m not happy,” Sebastian snaps, “He ignored team orders! He was supposed to stay behind Carlos!” 

“You still won though, Seb,” Lewis points out, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, “That’s a good result,” 

“It’s not about that,” Sebastian gripes, dropping his forehead to Lewis’ shoulder and releasing a long breath, “He doesn’t respect me. Charles thinks that because we are together he can just do whatever he wants. He was never like this with Mattia. I can’t lead a team where the number one driver doesn’t listen to me,” 

“We knew this would be difficult, Seb,” Lewis reminds him on a frown, “Charles isn’t some rookie like he was when you were teammates. He’s made this team his own. He’s an experienced world champion now,” 

Sebastian snorts, “Oh I know that, he won’t let me forget it. He’s going to tear this team apart if he keeps acting like this. Carlos is angry and rightly so,” 

“What are you going to do?” 

“I don’t know,” Sebastian admits, “I feel sorry for Carlos. Charles is acting like an arrogant asshole and I don’t know what to do about it. It’s not like I can end his contract. They’ve only just extended it,” 

“You could,” Lewis murmurs, “You’re the team principal. You could end it but that wouldn’t be fair.  He would never forgive you either. Just give him some time, Seb. It can’t be easy having you in charge of him,” 

“Seb,” 

They pull apart and Sebastian turns to Carlos with a half smile, “Carlos, everything okay?” 

The Spaniard looks between the men and Lewis clears his throat, “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll see you at the hotel, Seb,” He murmurs, walking to the door and stopping to clasp Carlos on the shoulder, “Good race today,” 

Carlos forces a smile before turning back to his team principal, “Did you talk to Charles? He can’t just do that, Seb! It was supposed to be my win,” 

Sebastian crosses the room to his driver, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “I’ve spoken to him but I’ll speak to him again. He won’t get away with acting like this, Carlos. He can’t just ignore team orders,” 

“This is my year to win the championship, Seb. I won’t let him take it away from me because he won’t listen to you,” 

Sebastian cringes, wishing that Carlos didn’t know about his relationship with Charles, it has always made things a bit more awkward. 

“You can win this year, kid. You have a 34 point lead. I’ll talk to him. You were great today. Go and be with your girlfriend. I’ll see you in Maranello next week,” 

Carlos smiles at him, walking out of the room and leaving Sebastian to try and figure out how he’s going to handle this entire situation. 

As Charles’ boyfriend he’s proud of him. He’s proud of him for taking initiative. He’s proud of him for having the confidence in himself to go for the win. 

As Charles’ team principal he’s furious with him. There’s nothing worse than a driver that thinks they’re above their team and it’s becoming increasingly obvious Charles is heading that way. 

Rationalising it’s better to talk to Charles before the younger man is drunk he heads back to his office to grab his car keys and head to the hotel.

Charles is pulling on his shirt when he walks in, Lewis lying on the bed flicking through the TV channels. 

He wishes he didn’t have to bring the mood down. He wishes that this was last year and he was coming back to Lewis’ room to seek comfort in his boyfriends’ arms. Instead he’s about to completely ruin the atmosphere. Instead he’s going to do what they always said they wouldn’t - he’s going to let racing impact on their relationship. 

Charles does up the last button of his shirt, looking at him on a grin. He’s so beautiful. He’s so lucky to have Charles. He’d do anything for him. 

“Sit down,” He orders, pushing back the thoughts of how much he wants to tackle the younger man onto the bed and show him how much he loves him. 

Charles arches an eyebrow at him, sliding his wallet into his pocket, “You’re not my team principal here, Seb. You can’t just order me around,”

“Sit down, Charles,” Sebastian repeats firmly, grasping his boyfriend’s arm, forcing him down on the edge of the bed, and standing in front of him.

“You raced well today,” Sebastian starts, ignoring the smug smirk on the younger man’s face, “You raced well but you didn’t race fair. You didn’t deserve that win, Charles. Carlos deserved it. The team orders are there for a reason. Carlos is ahead in the championship and so we are favouring him. It’s nothing personal but that’s how it works,” 

Charles opens his mouth to protest but Sebastian points a finger in warning, effectively shutting him up, “I know you want your second championship and you will get it. You’ll get plenty more but this year is Carlos’ turn. He is 34 points ahead of you. I never cared who won out of you two as long as it was one of you and now it’s obvious we need to be supporting Carlos,” 

“He is only ahead of me because I have had 4 DNFs!” Charles exclaims, standing up on a scowl, “I can still beat him. I can win every race for the rest of the season. We are quicker than redbull and mercedes!” 

Lewis snorts from behind them, “You’re not much quicker. I’m only ten points behind you, Charles. This championship could be anyones,”

“It will be mine. I won last year and I’ll win this year,” Charles preaches, “If it wasn’t for the DNFs then I would be leading the championship,” 

“Two of those DNFs were your fault, Charles!” Sebastian seethes, “I don’t know what’s happened to you and Max this season but you seem to love crashing into each other! You cannot keep ignoring team orders. If you do then you will lose the support of the team,” 

“Lose the support of you, you mean,” Charles mutters bitterly. 

“No, the teams support and I am in charge of the team. This cannot happen again, Charles,” 

“I’m quicker! I’m a better driver than Carlos! You know I am! You know I can win!” 

“You and Carlos both have different strengths, Charles,” Sebastian grates, “You are losing yourself though. You’re becoming too arrogant and you’re making mistakes. I don’t know that you can win. I don’t know that you won’t get too cocky and end up crashing with Max again, or even Lewis. The last thing I want to happen is for you and Carlos to crash out on the track and for us to lose out on nearly 50 points. If you keep acting like this then we’re going to need to have a more formal conversation,” 

“What does that mean? Are you going to get rid of me? Ferrari is my team!” 

“I’m not going to get rid of you but I might have to reconsider who gets the new upgrades to the car. I need you to be a team player, Charles. You used to be so why can’t you now? What’s changed?” 

“Everything’s changed! You should never have taken the job!” Charles yells, shoving past the older man to the door. 

“You told me to take it Charles! I would never have taken it if you asked me not to!” 

“Well I wish I hadn’t because it’s making me hate you,” Charles spits, hurling a ferocious look at his boyfriend and storming out, the door slamming behind him. 

“Fuck sake,” Sebastian groans, collapsing onto the bed and wrapping himself into Lewis’ side, “How am I supposed to lead the team with him acting like that?” 

Lewis doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to defend Charles. He doesn’t want to take sides but they’re race drivers and Charles is acting like a race driver. He’s going for the win when he knows he can achieve it. 

It’s like Sebastian has forgotten how it feels to be on the track. It’s like he’s forgotten the anger that runs through your blood when you know you can win but you’re being told to stay behind your teammate. 

“He’s impossible right? It can’t go on like this,” Sebastian murmurs, looking up at his boyfriend, frowning when he doesn’t saying anything, “Lewis?”

The Brit sighs, pulling back from the man slightly and cupping his cheek, “You used to ignore team orders all the time, Seb. I ignore team orders. When you’re racing you don’t care what’s best for the team, you care about what’s best for you. Charles is quicker than Carlos, you know he is,” 

“I can’t say that, Lewis! They’re both my drivers. Charles is quick, yes, but Carlos has more experience,” 

Lewis gives him a half smile, stroking a hand through the blonde curls, “Not really anymore, Seb. It’s like you’re thinking of Charles as the 21 year old driver he was when you were racing with him. He’s got the experience now. He’s just as good as me and you. He’s just as good as Max. I know you want to treat them fairly but Charles can beat Carlos. He will beat Carlos. You either have to support him or just watch as he does it anyway,” 

“He said he’s starting to hate me,” Sebastian grumbles, “I didn’t think it was going to be this hard. Mattia never made it look this hard,” 

“Mattia didn’t love Charles, you do. It’s hard because you know secretly you’re proud of him. He’s doing exactly what you always used to tell him to do expect now he’s going against you to do it,” 

Sebastian snorts, shifting up in the bed on an arched eyebrow, “I’m proud of him because he’s acting like an arrogant little bastard? Trust me, I’m not,” 

“No,” Lewis smiles, kissing the man and murmuring against his lips, “You’re proud of him because he’s acting like a champion,” 

Sebastian sighs, not even bothering to answer because he knows Lewis is right. 

Chapter Text

Lewis closes his eyes on a sigh, resting his head between his bent arms and trying his best to block out the yelling from upstairs. It’s become the soundtrack of the house now - Sebastian and Charles screaming at each other over Ferrari. 

Sebastian’s voice rises to the point it could almost make the house shake and he drags himself up the stairs knowing whatever argument they’re having is at risk of becoming physical. 

“It’s not your team, Charles! I make the calls and you follow them!” Sebastian roars, the words reverberating through the walls. Lewis opens the door looking between them and realising he came up at exactly the right time because his boyfriends are only a few inches apart, fists clenched at their sides, pupils blown. 

“You both need to calm down,” He warns, walking in and standing between them, acting as a human barrier like he’s had to be for the past month, “Both of you walk away and take a breather,” 

“This is nothing to do with you,” Sebastian bites, ignoring him and glaring at the younger man, “This is about Charles and his inability to listen to anything I say,” 

Something must snap in Charles because he lunges at Sebastian and the two of them engage in a shoving match, grunting and cursing as they desperately try to overpower the other.

It feels like he’s not even in the room - like he’s a ghost watching them from afar, watching the two people he loves more than anything tear each other apart a little bit more everyday. 

It’s soul destroying. It reminds him of his childhood home before his parents split up. The way they would argue to the point him and his siblings used to hide in their rooms, holding on to each other and waiting for the shouting to stop. Except now he doesn’t have his siblings here. He’s alone. 

He’s tired of feeling like a lost little boy. He’s tired of walking around on egg shells, overthinking everything he’s saying to ensure he doesn’t start an argument between his boyfriends. 

Somewhere between yesterday and fifteen years ago he grew up. He realises it almost everyday, when he’s loading the dishwasher, the dinner he’s made for them all is simmering on the stove. 

He realises that he can’t remember a day when he didn’t check his email first thing in the morning, or have too many cups of coffee, or the last time he went down a slide at a park. 

It’s habitual now. He shops for his own groceries, sets his own alarms, fills his own gas tank. He wears the independence like it’s an accessory, like an identity, like it’s something he’s always known. 

It wasn’t always there though. There was a time when he was called downstairs for dinner. There was a time when he couldn't tie his own laces. 

The days are getting shorter but he’s endured them before. At some point he learnt how to handle things like hunger, cold, and loneliness. These darker days don’t scare him like they used to. He’s older now. He’s less afraid.

He won’t be that lost little boy. He won’t let them do this to him. 

“This is everything to do with me!” Lewis screams, “I’m the one that has to listen to you two argue everyday! I’m the one that has to suffer in silence because you’re both too focussed on outdoing each other! I feel alone! You two are here but you’re not really here for me!” 

Sebastian and Charles stop, their hands dropping from each other as they turn to the older man in shock. 

“Lewis,” Sebastian breathes, crossing the room to him, stopping a foot away when Lewis holds out a hand in warning, “No, Seb. I’m not doing this anymore. You two need to find a way to work together. I warned you that this would happen! I’m the one that’s suffering here!” 

Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts. How does he tell them that the reason he’s sad is because he loves them? 

Charles gapes at him, “Are you having problems with the car?” 

Lewis scoffs in annoyance, turning heated eyes to the younger man, “No, it’s not the car, Charles! It’s us! It’s you two constantly arguing! When was the last time we actually had a conversation that didn’t end in you two screaming at each other? When was the last time either of you asked how my day was? I couldn’t care less about the car right now. I couldn’t care less about winning another championship! I care about you two and I care about this relationship! It’s like I’m all alone in this! I’m just some bystander trying to make sure you two don’t kill each other!” 

Sebastian sighs running a hand down his face on a frown, “I’m really sorry, Lewis,” He murmurs, casting a quick glance to Charles, “We haven’t been fair on you. We didn’t realise this was bothering you so much,” 

“That’s because you didn’t bother to ask,” Lewis bites, shaking his head on a long breath and moving to sit down on the bed, “I miss you both,” 

There’s something particularly haunting about missing people that are still here, still standing in front of you. Sebastian and Charles never left but they aren’t with him in the same way anymore. 

They don’t all sit around watching TV together after dinner lightheartedly bickering about what show to put on. They don’t all go out for walks anymore. They sit in the house either stewing in silence or screaming down the roof. 

He misses being loved by them. He misses their murmured words of support and gratitude. He misses their soft smiles and easy laughs. He misses the person he was with them before racing ruined their relationship, before he became a referee in their constant battle. 

“We’re still here, sweetheart,” Sebastian says, crossing the room and taking a seat next to his boyfriend, slipping an arm around his shoulders, “I’ll work at not bringing things from Ferrari home. I’ll make sure that Charles and I aren’t arguing all the time. I don’t ever want you to feel alone, you’re not alone,” 

“I know it’s not easy between you two at the moment,” Lewis observes quietly, peeking up at Sebastian through long lashes and then over at Charles, “I know it’s going to take some time to get used to but it shouldn’t be impacting on our relationship. I have nothing to do with Ferrari but I’m the one getting the brunt of it all,” He shakes his head on a humourless laugh, “I had a really shit day earlier in the week and I was looking forward to coming home and talking it through with the both of you. But by the time I got home you two were already arguing about strategy and then you both spent the rest of the evening in separate rooms. I was alone and all I wanted was to be with you both,” 

“You never said anything, we didn’t know, Lewis,” Charles utters, taking a tentative step towards them on a frown, “We would have listened,” 

“You would have listened but you wouldn’t have heard me,” Lewis replies evenly, “I don’t feel like a priority anymore,” 

“Of course you’re a priority, Lewis,” Sebastian rushes out, cupping the older man’s cheeks and pressing a kiss to his lips, “You are the most important thing to me and Charles. Nothing comes ahead of you, ever. I love you so much,” 

“I thought Ferrari was your priority,” Charles snarks, folding his arms across his chest on narrowed eyes. Lewis and Sebastian shoot him a warning look and he looks down at the floor. 

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Lewis groans, “I just want us to be able to spend time together without worrying that one of you is going to suddenly turn on the other. I want it to be like it used to be,” 

“That won’t happen anymore, Lewis. We’ll stop,” Sebastian promises, pressing a kiss to the man’s cheek before gesturing for the younger man to sit down, “Come here, Charlie,” 

Charles obliges, perching down next to his boyfriend and grasping his hand, “I’m sorry, Lewis,” 

“I know you are, Charlie,” Lewis murmurs on a half smile, knocking their knees together, “It’s just not a healthy environment. We shouldn’t be arguing all the time - well you two shouldn’t be arguing all the time. That’s how it started with my parents and look how that ended. I don’t ever want to live without either of you,” 

Sebastian leans forward slightly so he can eye the younger man, “Charlie, from now on we are not talking about strategy, upgrades, or anything else to do with the team at home. If we have a disagreement then we can sort it out at work. I know I’m just as bad as you so we are both going to have to try at this. This house is a new Ferrari free space, understand?” 

“It doesn’t need to be a Ferrari free space,” Lewis mutters, rolling his eyes fondly, “I know that sometimes you’ll need to talk about a race or something. We’ve always spoken about racing. I just don’t want it to be everything. I don’t want it to ruin us,” 

“It won’t,” Sebastian urges, stroking his thumb across the dark skin of Lewis’ hand, “I’m really sorry, Lewis. I’m sorry we’ve been neglecting you. Do you want to talk about anything? We’ll listen now. We’ll always listen,” 

Lewis glances at his boyfriend and the sincerity in his eyes. He knows that Sebastian means it. Something has changed. Things will be different now. 

“No, nothing in particular,” He replies on a small smile, knowing the only thing he’s craving right now is the easy intimacy they always have; the way Charles drapes across their laps on the sofa, the way it feels unnatural to not be touching each other, “I just want to spend some time together,” 

“We can do that. We’ll have a movie night tonight. I missed it too, Lewis. I missed the three of us being happy. We’ll get back to it,” 

Charles looks at his boyfriend on a furrowed brow, “So this is all just about us spending time together? You were really mad,” 

Lewis rolls his eyes, gently shoving the younger man in the shoulder, “You are one to talk about being really mad. I’ve had to listen to you screaming your lungs out every week for the past month. It’s about our relationship, Charles. It’s important that we take time to just be together without arguing. I love you, you know?” 

Charles manages a smirk at that, “No? You have never told me before?” 

Lewis’ eyes narrow, distinctly remembering the conversation a few weeks ago when Charles had counted how many times in one day Sebastian and him had told the younger man they loved him. 42 according to Charles - although Lewis suspects he might have exaggerated that number to make fun of them. 

“I’ll have to tell you more then,” He replies on a smug grin, pressing a soft kiss to Charles’ lips when he rolls his eyes. “I love you so can you please save the arguing with Seb for when you in Maranello?” 

“Okay,” Charles agrees on a teasing smile, “I don’t want you to freak out again,” 

Lewis sighs, “Sorry, I just love you two so much. It makes me crazy. You two make me crazy,” 

“Very crazy,” Charles murmurs quietly on a small smile, “It’s okay I’ll love you no matter how crazy you get,” 

“That’s very generous of you Charlie seeing as you’re the main source of my craziness,” Lewis deadpans, poking the younger man in the side. 

_______________________________________________

Charles unlocks the door to Lewis’ apartment as quietly as possible. It’s almost 4am and there’s no doubt in his mind that his boyfriends are asleep. 

The night had started off as a fun one. He’d gone down to the club in Monaco with Pierre, Lando, Max, and Carlos to watch Lando’s DJ set. 

Four hours, ten shots of tequila, and a dozen cocktails later though and he was drunk to the point he couldn’t stand up straight anymore. He knew it wasn’t very responsible to get that drunk in a club where the paparazzi could be around taking photos. He knew that Lewis and Sebastian wouldn’t be happy if they knew how drunk he was, they’d lecture him on how unsafe it is and how he’s risking a PR disaster. 

He didn’t care though because it had been a long time since he was able to forget about racing and just enjoy a night with his friends. 

When the alcohol was hitting too hard he took himself to the back of the club to try and sober up a bit. 

That was when the girl found him. She was a fan. It started off innocent. She seemed sweet. That was when she kissed him even as he was saying no. That was when he tried to push her away. That was when he realised he had to go home because he felt sick, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. 

All he wanted was to be in bed with his boyfriends so he could try to forgot how it felt to have someone force themselves on you. How it felt when he was almost crying as the girl had tried to drag him out of the bar and to her hotel, his legs feeling like jelly and his words slurred. 

The lights are on when he walks into Lewis’ apartment and for a moment he thinks they must have left them on deliberately so he didn’t trip on anything when he was stumbling to the bed. 

That thought is quickly eradicated when he walks into the living room to find Lewis and Sebastian sitting on the sofa. They turn as he walks in, eyes narrowing when he wobbles on his feet. 

“You didn’t need to wait up for me,” He garbles, trying to keep the slur out of his voice but not doing a very good job, “It’s really late,” 

“You’re a fucking mess,” Sebastian snaps, not getting up from the sofa, his eyes scanning the drink stains on the younger man’s shirt, the ruffled hair, and glazed over eyes, “How do you even get that drunk?” 

The tone of his boyfriend’s voice makes Charles feel defensive. He’s allowed to go out and get drunk. He’s allowed to have a good time. 

“Everyone was drunk. I was just having a good time,” He babbles on a glare, moving to sit down on the sofa between them, frowning when the older men stand up and scowl down at him, “What’s wrong with you two? Are you angry I’ve been drinking? You knew I was going out,” 

“We are angry about this,” Lewis bites back, shoving his phone in front of Charles’ face, “What the fuck did you do?” 

Charles frowns drunkenly taking the phone out of his boyfriend’s hands and bringing it closer so he can see the screen through his hazy eyes. 

He can feel bile rising in his throat when the picture becomes clear. An Instagram story from a model in Monaco showing him and a girl kissing in the club. 

The same girl that hadn’t listened when he told her he was in a relationship. The same girl that is the reason he left the club without telling any of his friends just so he could come and seek comfort in his boyfriends. 

“I - I -“ He tries to form words but nothing is making sense. What is he going to say? He knows how it looks.  He knows that Lewis and Sebastian will think he cheated on them. 

He knows that but he can’t bring himself to tell them what happened. He can’t bring himself to say the words. I think she sexually assaulted me. I told her to stop. 

“You what, Charles?!” Sebastian roars, making Charles shudder on the sofa and stare down at the floor, “You got so unbelievably drunk that you forgot you’ve been in a relationship for nearly two years? You got so drunk that you kissed a girl? How could you do this?!” 

“It’s not what it looks like,” He replies meekly, looking between them with wide, teary eyes, “I promise. I didn’t cheat on you,” 

Lewis snatches his phone back and shoves it in his pocket, “It’s exactly what it looks like! There’s pictures everywhere, Charles! You can’t lie your way out of this one! You can’t only tell us a half truth! You cheated and I bet if you’ve done it this time then you’ve done it before! I can’t believe you!” 

“Please, let me explain,” Charles whimpers, standing up in front of them, trying to grasp their hands only to be pushed away and a sob to escape his mouth, “Please,” 

“Don’t you fucking dare try to play the victim, Charles!” Lewis yells, pushing him in the chest hard enough that in his drunken state he falls back onto the sofa, “You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to justify this. You can’t justify this. You’ve broken our fucking hearts!”

The alcohol and trauma from the night take its toll and Charles drops his head into his hands, sobbing uncontrollably, “I’m sorry,” He cries, and he’s not sure what he’s sorry for - probably for ever making his boyfriends feel like he’d do this to them, probably mostly to himself for not just having the courage to tell them what actually happened. 

“I don’t care. I don’t fucking want to hear it,” Lewis barks, grabbing the younger man’s arm and tugging him up from the sofa, “Get up, you’re not staying here tonight. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to see you for a long time,” 

Charles whirls around, stumbling slightly as he does, and staring at his boyfriend, “What do you mean? Lewis? We can talk about this tomorrow. I haven’t done anything wrong, I promise,” 

“Stop!” Sebastian interjects on a scowl, “Stop acting like you haven’t gone out and kissed someone! You’re going home, Charles. Lewis and I need time to figure out if we can ever look at you in the same way again. The sight of you right now is making me want to strangle you,” 

“Are we going to be okay?” 

“I don’t know, Charles. I don’t know if we are ever going to get past this,” Lewis growls, pulling out his phone, “I’m getting you an uber. It’ll take you home,” 

“I can walk, it’s not far,” Charles mumbles defeated, knowing he’s lost this battle, knowing some random girl on a night out might have just ruined his relationship. 

“No you fucking can’t,” Sebastian hisses, “You’ll end up passed out down some side street. You’ll wait here for an uber so we at least know you got back safe,” 

Charles nods solemnly looking down at the floor to avoid the disgusted looks being shot at him from the older men. They are the not the same eyes that land on him every morning. They are not the same eyes that look at him in amusement when he’s babbling about something they have no interest in. They are the eyes of two people that have been betrayed. 

“I’m really sorry,” He whispers, unsure if either of them even heard him. If they did they don’t react. 

“He’s here. Have some water when you get back and make sure you take some paracetamol tomorrow,” Lewis mutters, shoving his boyfriend in the direction of the door. 

Charles turns back to them once he’s stepped into the corridor, “I love you, I love you both so much,” 

Something flashes in Lewis’ eyes and for a second Chafles thinks he’s going to ask him to stay. Then they narrow and the man’s jaw tightens, “Get home safe, Charles,” 

Lewis slams the door in his face. 

Charles drops to his knees and cries. 

Singapore is normally Sebastian’s favourite race on the calendar. Even if he doesn’t have the best car this year, it’s still a track he has fond memories of. It’s still the track he’s won countless times at. 

This year is different. This year he can’t even enjoy it because it was three days ago that he’d had to see pictures of Charles cheating on him. It was three days ago that they’d last spoken. It was three days ago that his life had been blown into bits. 

Sebastian considers not stepping into the lift when the doors open and they are met with the sight of Charles leaning against the wall, head slumped and looking just as drained as he has done the whole weekend. 

Of course it had to be this race that Ferrari, Aston Martin, and Mercedes decide they’re placing their teams in the same hotel. Of course it had to be the week that he had hoped he wouldn’t even have to see Charles until he’d figured out if he could ever forgive him. 

Lewis seems to sense his hesitation because he grips his arm, tugging him into the lift. Charles finally raises his eyes and he looks between them with a mixture of what looks like fear and surprise. 

“Lewis, Seb,” He murmurs, stepping back into the corner of the lift, effectively shutting himself off from them. 

“Charles,” Lewis mutters back, sharing a look with Sebastian. Of all the times they’d wanted to be in the same hotel - of course it had to be when they weren’t talking. 

“What floor are you Charlie - Charles?” Charles because they’re not on good terms at the moment, because he doesn’t want to give in to his love for the younger man yet. 

“12,” Charles replies quietly, still not looking at either of them until they’ve pressed the numbers for their own floor and the lift starts moving again, “Can we talk?” 

Sebastian doesn’t turn to look at him but his gaze falls to the younger man in the mirror and he tries to stop the uncontrollable urge to wrap his boyfriend in his arms and whisper away his worries. “No, Charles. I’m not ready to talk to you yet. I told you we are going to need time to figure out if we can move past this,”

“But -“ Charles starts, immediately shutting up when Lewis turns to him on a glare, “Don’t, Charles. We don’t want to hear anymore of your excuses right now,” 

The lift comes to a grinding halt and the lights flicker before turning off. Lewis and Sebastian stumble on their feet, grabbing on to each other so they don’t fall over. 

“What the fuck?” Lewis snaps, looking around the lift when the emergency lights come on, desperately prodding at the emergency telephone button on the lift panel. “We’re stuck,” He mutters, glancing at Sebastian, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m okay,” Sebastian confirms, “They’ll figure out the lift is broken soon. It shouldn’t be too long. Charles, are you alright?” 

There’s no reply from behind them and they turn to find the younger man sat against the wall, his arms wrapped around his knees and hyperventilating. 

Any anger that Sebastian still held for his boyfriend is quickly replaced with worry. He and Lewis fall down beside the younger man, wrapping arms around him. 

“Charlie, it’s okay. The lift has stopped but we’re going to get out soon. Don’t worry,” Sebastian soothes, cradling the younger man’s face, “Deep breaths, Charles,” 

“I’m really sorry, I’m so sorry,” Charles cries between quick breaths, tears dripping onto his flushed cheeks. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Lewis murmurs, carding a hand through his dark hair, “Just focus on our voices. Deep breaths. In and out. Come on,” 

After a couple of minutes Charles’ breathing returns to normal. Lewis and Sebastian sit down either side of him, casting the occasional concerned glance over his bent head. 

Lewis hates that even after everything he needs to know that Charles is okay, that he feels this unyielding need to protect him. 

“Have you started having panic attacks again?”

“No,” Charles lies, not wanting to make them worry when he knows they don’t even want to be in the same room as him. 

“Charles,” Sebastian warns, turning to look at the younger man and grasping a handful of his hair to gently tug his head back so their eye-lines meet, “Have you been having panic attacks again? If you have then you need to get some help,” 

“I’ve only had them since you kicked me out,” Charles whispers, eyes widening, “Not that it’s either of your fault but they should stop soon,” 

“You need to talk to someone, Charles,” Lewis orders firmly, arching an eyebrow at the younger man when he snorts, “What?”

“You two hate me. You don’t care if I get some help,” 

Lewis rolls his eyes, already not in the mood to deal with Charles and his victim complex, “We don’t hate you, Charles, and of course we want you to get some help. Things are difficult at the moment but that doesn’t mean we don’t care,” 

“Do you still love me?” 

He closes his eyes briefly, wishing he could say he didn’t because Charles has hurt him more than anyone else in his life, but knowing just as well if he did that he’d be lying. 

“I’ll always love you,” Is what he eventually replies, eyeing the younger man and the way his cheeks seem more hollow than they had the week before, “Have you been looking after yourself? Have you been eating and sleeping?” 

Charles doesn’t reply and Sebastian tugs at his hair again, “Charles, answer the question. Have you been eating and sleeping? You don’t look like you have. You need to look after yourself,” 

“How can I eat and sleep when you two won’t even talk to me? I feel empty,”

“We told you we need space, Charles,” Lewis reminds him evenly, “You have really hurt us. You kissed someone else. That’s not something we can just forget about,”

“She kissed me,” Charles whispers, pushing Sebastian’s hand away from his hair and dropping his head to his knees. 

Sebastian scoffs in annoyance, “That doesn’t really make much of a difference, Charles. You kissed her back,”

“I was really drunk,” Charles murmurs, “I told her to get off me but she wouldn’t. She tried to take me back to her hotel room but I couldn’t stand up properly so she left me,” 

Lewis and Sebastian share a look, not entirely sure whether their boyfriend is just trying to get out of the situation or if they had been completely wrong about all of this. 

“You told her to get off?” Lewis asks slowly, “Charles, look at me,” 

“I told her to get off but she wouldn’t. I told her no,” Charles whispers, still not looking up from his arms. 

Sebastian nudges him in the side until he’s looking between them, the unshed tears making his green eyes look almost clear. 

He knows Charles so deeply. He knows him on a level that only him and Lewis do. He knows that right now the younger man is hurting and he’s telling the truth. 

“Mein Gott, Charles,” He hisses on a scowl, “Why didn’t you tell us that? She sexually assaulted you!” 

“I think she did,” Charles murmurs, shaking his head and thinking about how he’d said no, about how he’d been in tears when she was begging him to come to her hotel. 

“She definitely did, Charles,” Lewis snaps, “Fuck! Imagine if you had kissed her and then tried to take her up to your hotel room when she was too drunk to stand. That would be sexual assault wouldn’t it? Just because she’s a girl doesn’t make it any better. God, are you okay? Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“I tried to tell you but you wouldn’t listen!” Charles exclaims on a sob, “You two thought I would cheat on you. I would never do that,” 

“Oh Charlie,” Sebastian sighs, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. We should have given you a chance to explain. We were really angry though. The pictures…” Sebastian growls, “We need to go to the Police. She can’t get away with that. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Charles,” 

“No,” Charles rushes out, looking between them with panicked eyes, “No, I’m not going to the police. I don’t want this getting out. I just want you two,” 

Lewis tangles his finger’s in his boyfriend’s messy hair, “She committed a crime, Charles. She took advantage of you. We’ll be with you every step of the way. You won’t be alone. I’m sorry we didn’t listen,” 

“I’m not telling anyone. I just want you two to forgive me. Please, don’t hate me,” 

“Gott, Charles,” Sebastian gripes, “There’s nothing to forgive. You don’t need to be sorry. We are the ones that need to be sorry. We don’t hate you, sweetheart. We could never hate you. We love you,” He retorts, sighing when Charles seems to barely register the words, “Come here Charlie,” He orders gently, trying to pull the younger man into his side whilst Charles pushes him off. 

“There’s a camera,” Charles utters, pointing up at the security camera. 

“I don’t fucking care about that right now,” Sebastian snaps, overpowering the younger man and heaving his body into his side, “I’m not letting go of you. I love you, Charlie. I love you so much. I’m always going to protect you, okay? Do you understand me?” He asks loudly, squeezing the younger man’s arm when he doesn’t reply. 

“I don’t need you to protect me, Seb,” 

Lewis cups his boyfriend’s face between his hands, eyeing him, “We don’t care if you don’t need it, Charles. We love you and we are always going to protect you. I’m sorry we weren’t able to the other night and I’m sorry we made you go through this alone,” 

“You didn’t know,” 

“No but we should have listened to you. We should have known better. It’ll never happen again, Charlie,” 

Charles smiles slightly, “Can I come back to your room? It’s lonely in mine,” 

“Of course you can, sweetheart. We’re never letting you out of our sight again,” Lewis murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to the younger man’s hair. 

“That seems a bit dramatic -“ Charles tries to argue on a smirk, “No, it’s not dramatic. We’re never letting you out of our sight again,” Sebastian interjects on a grin.

”That might be difficult on the track…you two are normally quite far behind me,” 

Lewis mockingly narrows his eyes on the younger man, “Watch it,” He warns on a smirk, stroking a finger down the pale cheek next to him, “Are you sure you’re okay, Charlie? If you don’t want to go to the Police then that’s your choice even though I think you should. You can’t just push this down though. You need to talk about it,”

”Maybe whilst stuck in a lift isn’t the best time to talk about it,” Sebastian points out, “Let’s get out of here and then we can talk. Okay, Charlie?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll be okay now we are back together,” Charles murmurs on a pout. 

“We never broke up, Charles. We just had an argument,” Sebastian reassures him gently, arching an eyebrow, “And we will be talking about it. I know you don’t like to talk about important things but I don’t want you to handle this alone,” 

Charles rolls his eyes but snuggles closer to the man, bathing in the familiar comfort of his sturdy body.

_______________________________________________

Charles stares across the mountains in front of them. It’s not often they come up here. They rarely have the time to be together and so when they do they tend to spend it in bed. 

It’s a cold day though and Sebastian said it would be quiet up here - and he’s right, they are the only ones around - so they took the opportunity to spend some time together doing something fun. 

“I love it up here,” Charles barely breathes, hands clutching the waist high railing, wide eyes scanning the vast landscape like he could personally soak it all up and hold it inside forever.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Sebastian replies, coming to stand beside them, placing his hands over Lewis’, who already has a tight grip on Charles’ hips to keep him from toppling over the edge.

“Oh, what’s that?” Charles shouts excitedly, pointing a finger down the way. Lewis and Sebastian follow where he’s pointing.

“Absolutely not,” Sebastian says immediately once he sees what Charles is pointing at. “No, are you kidding?” What Charles was pointing at is down to their right, where the guard rail ends and the sheer drop off the mountain is visible. 

“I wanna go there,” Charles utters, and his eyes are burning with set desire. “Lewis, pleaseeee?”

Lewis glances between the edge of the mountain and Charles, shaking his head on narrowed eyes, “No, you’re one of the clumsiest people I know. There’s no way you won’t fall over the edge. It’s also probably against -“ your Ferrari contract, Lewis wanted to say. 

But before he can even finish his sentence, Charles is sprinting down the path with more speed than his car. 

An impossible spike of ice cold fear shoots through Sebastian, and he immediately darts after Charles, heart beating in his throat. Lewis kicks his feet in to gear and rushes behind.

They don’t reach Charles in time to yank him back from climbing down the rocks. He already had his feet planted on the edge of the mountain when they catch up, and hurry to scramble after him.

“Charles, seriously!” Sebastian shouts, voice an octave higher than usual. “You need to be careful!” He gets his feet planted on the floor and whips around to see Charles standing a few feet from the edge, planted firmly on the floor. Sebastian’s heart slows down a bit, and he lets out a breath. 

Lewis drops down next to him, deciding to have jumped instead of climbed, and Sebastian whirls in him. “You be careful, too!” He shouts. “No jumping, be careful.”

Lewis rolls his eyes fondly and Charles turns around on a giggle, but the movement makes Charles flinch, causing his feet to slip completely out from under him, and for him to topple to the floor.

“Charles!” Sebastian shoots forward, grabbing Charles’ arm and yanking him toward himself before his legs can slip over the edge. They both fall hard to the floor, Charles’ feet dangling over the edge, Sebastian’s leg wrapped around Charles’ hip, pressing roughly in to his inner thigh to keep him in place. His fingers are digging painfully in to Charles’ upper arms.

Their breathing is heavy as they shuffle away back from the edge of the mountain. 

“You demon! Don’t ever do that again!” Sebastian all but shrieks, moving one of his hands to wrap around Charles’ head, hugging him to his chest. Charles can feel his heartbeat pressing at the back of his head, going so quick it might as well not be going at all. “I said be careful! You’re going to give me a heart attack!” 

Lewis falls to the ground next to them, leaning over to shove Charles gently in the shoulder, “That is exactly why I said we couldn’t go where there wasn’t a barrier. You’re a nightmare,” 

“Sorry,” Charles mumbles, peeking up from where his eyes had been hidden in Sebastian’s chest and looking between them on an innocent smile, “At least we are making memories,” 

Lewis snorts, “These are not the kind of memories I want to make. I prefer the ones where I don’t have to worry about you falling off the edge of a mountain,” 

“Boring,” Charles retorts on a grin, eyes widening when Lewis’ darken and he dives on top of them, the three of them wrestling around on the floor. 

“I’ll give you boring,” Lewis grumbles, overpowering the younger man and straddling him, his fingers digging into Charles’ sides, eliciting high pitched shrieked giggles, “Don’t you ever dare do anything like that again. If you do then I’ll throw you off the edge myself got it?” 

“I’d be still be going over the edge anyway then!” Charles argues breathlessly through endless laughter, desperately trying to wriggle out from under the older man. Lewis narrows his eyes, moving his fingers to his boyfriend’s ribs, grinning when Charles laughs harder, “Never again, Charlie!” 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Charles screeches, “I’m sorry! I’ll never do it again,” 

Lewis stalls his hands and leans down to press a soft kiss to the younger man’s cheek as he raggedly catches his breath, “Good boy,” 

“Shut up,” Charles bites half heartedly, “Get off me, you weigh a tonne,” 

Lewis huffs a laugh, “Rude,” He mutters, sliding off his boyfriend and pulling him into his side, slipping his other arm around Sebastian, “This is a nice memory,” 

“For you maybe. You haven’t just been tortured,” Charles grumbles on a pout. Lewis and Sebastian laugh at his expense which only makes him pout more. 

“Why don’t we go home and have something to eat? I’m starving,” Sebastian suggests, leaning up one elbow to look at his boyfriends. 

“Race back to the car?” Lewis says on a grin, titling his head to look down at the younger man, “You just about breathing again, Charlie?” 

“Give me a minute,” Charles murmurs, waiting for Lewis and Sebastian to start mumbling about what they can make to eat and stumbling up to his feet, sprinting a few feet away, then turning back to them on a grin, “Do you two need a head start? I’ve got youth on my side,” 

Lewis and Sebastian roll on to their sides smirking at each other before jumping to their feet and chasing after their boyfriend. 

“Come back here and say that!” Sebastian yells after him. 

Chapter Text

Sebastian watches from a distance, his fists clenching at his side, and what feels like a red mist coming out of his ears. 

Kevin Magnussen’s hand is resting on Charles’ shoulder, their bodies definitely too close for just colleagues, and it’s not hard to recognise the look in the Dutchman’s eyes. It’s the look that almost everyone has when they look at Charles; the one when you’re completely enthralled by his dimpled grin and messy hair. 

“You look like a creep,” 

He folds his arms across his chest on a huff, “Magnussen is flirting with Charles,” He mutters defensively, turning to his boyfriend with a frown. 

“No he’s not,” Lewis retorts on a roll of the eyes, “I don’t even think they’re friends. They’re probably just talking about qualifying,” 

“He has a thing for Charles. Mick told me. Apparently he’s always talking about how good looking he is,” 

“Well Charlie is good looking. I think the majority of the planet would agree with that,” Lewis points out, knocking his shoulder into the German’s, “If you’re so worried go over and talk to them,” 

“No,” Sebastian snorts, his eyes never leaving Charles, “Then I’ll just have to listen to Charles calling me jealous for the next week and he can be such a relentless little shit,” 

“You’re acting jealous,” Lewis mutters on a grin, holding his hands up in mock surrender when the man shoots him a glare, “Hey, you’re allowed to be jealous,” 

Sebastian turns away from him with a roll of the eyes, muscles tightening when Kevin’s hand moves to rest on Charles’ lower back. “Right, let’s go over there,” 

Lewis chuckles lowly but follows after his boyfriend, trying not to roll his eyes when Sebastian slides in between Charles and Kevin, effectively putting a gap between them. 

“Oh hey,” Kevin murmurs, looking between them on a fake looking smile, “How are you both?” 

“All good man, how’s the car?” Lewis asks, trying not to laugh at the way Sebastian has wrapped a tight arm around Charles. 

“We’re struggling,” Kevin mutters dejectedly on a frown, “I should get back to the garage,” He says, starting to walk off until he stops and turns back on a hopeful smile, “Are you going to be hanging around for a bit after the race tomorrow, Charles? We could get dinner if you are?” 

Charles gapes at the driver in surprise, feeling Sebastian’s fingers dig into his arm. “I - uh,” He stutters sheepishly. 

Lewis deliberately avoids Sebastian’s eyes because he knows he’ll be getting his I told you so look, and roughly interrupts, “He’s got plans with his boyfriends,” 

Sebastian and Charles turn to him with wide eyes and Kevin steps toward them in confusion. “Boyfriends? You three? Charles?” He queries, narrowing his eyes on the younger driver. 

Charles can feel his face flushing, probably to the point it matches his shirt, and he tugs at his collar, “Yeah well…not many people know,” He utters, looking between the older men.

“All you need to know is that Charles isn’t single and so you’ll have to find someone else to take on a date,” Sebastian retorts, huffing a laugh at the look of bewilderment on his boyfriend’s face, “You okay, Charlie?” 

Charles nods slightly, glancing back at the blonde driver in front of him, “Sorry Kevin. I thought you were just being friendly, I didn’t realise you…liked me like that,” 

“I’ve been flirting with you for weeks,” Kevin exclaims, shaking his head on a half smile, “Sorry, If I knew you were together then I wouldn’t have tried anything,” 

“Charles is oblivious to people flirting with him so don’t worry about it,” Lewis jokes, nudging his boyfriend in the arm. 

“Which is lucky because almost everyone does,” Sebastian adds dryly. 

“I’m standing right here,” Charles grumbles, shooting an unimpressed look at Lewis when he pretends to be seeing him for the first time. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes and claps Kevin on the arm, “Good luck tomorrow, drive safe,” 

“Hotel?” Lewis suggests, leading the way when Sebastian nods and tugs Charles along with him. 

Charles runs to catch up with Lewis, throwing him a questioning look, “I can’t believe you told Kevin we are together,” 

Lewis glances at him on a soft smile and then behind his head when Sebastian catches up, “I had no choice, he’d spend every weekend trying to get you on a date otherwise. Maybe we should just stop hiding that we are together that way people will know not to ask you out,” 

Charles rolls his eyes, “People flirt with you all the time,” 

“Yes but I can actually tell when they’re flirting and shut it down. You have no idea and before you know it you’ll be on a date with someone thinking you’re just having a catch up dinner,” Lewis teases, poking his boyfriend in the side. 

Charles pushes his finger away on a pout, “No I wouldn’t,” He grumbles, stopping in his tracks and looking between the two older men when they cast him questioning glances, “Did you mean that? We should stop hiding?” 

Lewis shrugs his shoulders, tilting his head at Sebastian, “I don’t see why not if we are all happy with that. We’ve been together a long time now,” 

Sebastian hums thoughtfully, “I don’t think there’s any harm in telling the drivers but we should still keep it away from the press for now. Let’s wait until Charles has a championship for that,” 

“So I can tell people? I can tell Alex and Lando?” Charles asks not being able to fight back the wide grin taking over his face at the thought of finally being able to share his relationship with his friends. 

Lewis laughs, rolling his eyes fondly, “I’m pretty sure they will have figured it out anyway Charlie, but sure you can tell them,” He assures his boyfriend, ruffling his hair, “Just remember some things stay between us three though, okay? I don’t want you telling all my secrets to your little gamer squad,” 

“We are called the twitch quartet,” Charles grumbles, pushing off Lewis’ hand from his hair, “I won’t tell them anything secret anyway! I just want to tell them I love you two,” 

Sebastian mockingly pinches his cheek, “That’s sweet, Charlie,” He teases, grinning when the younger man shoots him a glare, “I love you too but I’d love you a lot more if you’d start walking again so we can go back to the hotel,” 

Charles grins and wraps an arm around both older men as they walk to the car park, “Did you mean it about coming out to everyone when I’ve got a championship? I could win it this year,” 

“You will win it this year,” Lewis retorts easily, smiling at his boyfriend, “When you win a championship we won’t need to be as worried about what the press say if we come out. You’ll have proven yourself in the eyes of the fans and it might stop any massive controversies,” 

“Not that you’re not proving it now,” Sebastian hurries to add, “You’re an incredible driver but you know how the media are. A championship will shut them up before they can even say anything. It was always the effect of our relationship on your career  that we were worried about most but it shouldn’t be an issue once you’re a world champion,” 

“Now I really can’t wait to be a world champion,” Charles murmurs on a dreamy smile. 
_______________________________________________

Sebastian releases a frustrated sigh, pulling out his phone and ringing his boyfriend again, ending the call as soon as he hears the generic voicemail message. “Where is he? Our flight leaves in 45 minutes! I knew this would happen as soon as he said he was going out for a few drinks to celebrate,” 

“If you knew this was going to happen then why didn’t you go with him so you could make sure he left on time,” Lewis retorts dryly, looking up from the book he’s reading on the bed, rolling his eyes at the ferocious look the man shoots him, “He’s probably on his way back. We'll just get a later flight, Seb, it's not a big deal," 

“It’s the principal, Lewis!” Sebastian seethes, folding his arms across his chest, “He has no respect for our time! He’s probably half way to drunk by now!”

“Oh I think he’ll be past half way,” 

Sebastian huffs, grabbing his wallet from the side and shoving it in his pocket, “I’m going to the bar to get him,” 

Lewis folds over the page in his book, dropping it on the side table and sliding off the bed, “We’ll both go. You’re pissed off and Charles is probably drunk, that’s a recipe for disaster, man,” 

“Fine,” Sebastian relents, his body immediately relaxing when Lewis’ arms wrap around his body, “I’ll calm down on the way,” He mumbles into his boyfriend’s neck making Lewis laugh, “I doubt that but that’s why I’m here to make sure you two don’t start brawling in the streets,” 

Sebastian smirks and leads the older man out of the hotel room. The streets are dark and deserted as they walk along to the bar Charles had said he was going to with his team - the polar opposite of how they’d been only a few hours earlier when the race had finished and commiserations had taken over the city. 

“Try and ring him again, just in case he’s gone somewhere else,” Lewis suggests, nudging his boyfriend in the arm. 

“He won’t answer,” Sebastian grinds, pulling out his phone and hitting the call button again. 

They stop in their tracks when they hear Senorità playing softly from down the side street next to them. Charles had set it as Sebastian’s personalised ringtone after he decided it would always remind him of their time as teammates. 

They look at each other in confusion, “Ring him again,” Lewis insists, walking to the edge of the dark street and shining the torch on his phone to try and see anything. 

The song starts to play again and he walks down the street, shining the torch between the large bins and parked cars. 

He freezes and screams, “Seb!” diving onto the pavement next to his boyfriend who is crumpled on the floor, dried blood smeared around his lip. 

“Charles, Charles,” He panics, shaking the younger man’s body. “What’s happened to him?!” Sebastian shrieks, collapsing down next to him and gently slapping the younger man’s cheek, “Charlie, wake up,” 

Charles releases a groan, blinking one eye open, “It’s too early,” 

Lewis and Sebastian share a concerned glance, manoeuvring the younger man upwards slightly so he’s leaning back against the wall. “Charles, what happened? You’ve been bleeding. Who did this? Where are your team?” 

Charles opens his other eye, craning his neck to figure out where he is and coming up with nothing. “Where am I?” 

Sebastian curses under his breath, cupping the younger man’s cheek, “We are in Zandvoort, we raced today. Do you remember that? Now, you’re down a street,” 

Charles stares blankly at his boyfriend until a a small smile appears on his face, “I won. I’m going to win the championship,” 

Lewis let’s out a watery laugh, tangling his fingers in the messy dark hair in front of him, “You did, sweetheart. You raced really well. We are so proud of you. What happened, Charlie? Someone has hurt you. Who did this?” 

“I - it -,” Charles mumbles, closing his eyes and trying to recall the race. He’d crossed the finish line first, Max following only a few tenths of a second later. The crowd had erupted in boos but he hadn’t cared. 

He remembers his team wrapping him in endless hugs. He remembers agreeing to go out to celebrate. He remembers promising Lewis and Sebastian he’d be back in time for their flight. He remembers seeing Max in the bar and his rival congratulating him. He remembers them having shots together. He remembers looking at the time and announcing he was leaving to get his plane.

He remembers stumbling down the line of loud bars and how out of nowhere a burly group of men dressed in orange dragged him down a side street. He remembers the pain and knowing he was too drunk to fight them off. 

“The fans,” He breathes, a tear dropping onto his cheek, “Max’s fans hate me,” 

“Did they do this? Did Max’s fans hurt you?” Sebastian spits, “Where are you hurt sweetheart?” He fumbles with Charles’ button down shirt, undoing the buttons and closing his eyes in horror when he sees the bruises on pale skin. If Charles wasn’t in such a state he’d lecture him. He’d specifically warned the younger man about going out in Zandvoort after his win, knowing what the Dutch fans could be like. “We need to take you to a hospital, okay? You’re really hurt, Charles,” 

Charles tenses, “No, no hospital,” He murmurs, blindly reaching for his boyfriends. Lewis catches his hand and brings it to his lips, “Charlie, you’re hurt. We need to go to a hospital. We’ll be with you, you won’t be alone,” 

Charles pushes them away on a cry and they watch as he tries to pull himself up, leaning against the wall for support, “No hospital!” 

“What the fuck are we going to do, man?” Lewis hisses at the man beside him, “He could have internal bleeding or something!” 

Sebastian runs a hand down the side of his face, jumping to his feet when Charles falls into the side of a bin, “Let’s get him back to the hotel and see how bad it is. He’s talking and moving so that’s a good sign,” He replies quietly, wrapping the younger man under his arm and pulling him into his side, “Charlie, we are going back to the hotel okay?” 

Charles nods slightly, burrowing his head into the crook between Sebastian’s collar bone and chin, “I’m sorry I missed the plane,” 

“Don’t worry about that, Charlie. It doesn’t matter. We just want to make sure you’re okay,” Sebastian soothes, holding out his free hand to Lewis and pulling him up from the floor, “Let’s get him in a taxi,” 

“No taxi,” Charles whimpers, looking up at his boyfriend with watery eyes, “Drank too much, feel sick,” 

Lewis sighs, leaning down slightly so he can look the younger man in the eye where he’s slumped against their boyfriend, “Charlie, you can’t walk. You’re hurt. We need to get a taxi,” 

“No taxi,” Charles mumble’s indignantly, groaning in pain when he straightens up, “Walk,” 

Sebastian glances at Lewis with a tired look, shrugging his shoulders, “Let’s try and walk,” He mutters, hoisting their boyfriend between them. 

The walk back to the hotel is long and slow with Charles having to stop every couple of minutes when he’s in too much pain, but refusing to get into a taxi. 

“If you get a taxi then I’ll run off!” 

Sebastian rolls his eyes, rearranging his arm to hold the younger man tighter, “I don’t think you’ll be running anywhere, Charlie,” 

“I’ll run!” 

“Let’s just get him back. We need to see how badly he’s hurt,” Lewis pesters, waiting for their boyfriend to say he’s ready to start walking again. “I’m okay,” Charles murmurs for the sixth time as they slowly start to make their way down the street again. 

The employee behind the desk rushes over to them when they walk in, “Ambulance?” 

Lewis shakes his head, looking over at Sebastian and trying to ignore the glare Charles is shooting him, “First aid kit?” 

The woman nods frantically and runs off to the desk, ducking down and standing back up with a large first aid kit, handing it to Lewis on a frown, “You need ambulance?” 

“No,” Charles barks, remembering his manners and forcing a smile, “No ambulance, thank you,” 

Lewis rolls his eyes, “We might need to go to the hospital. We’ll ring down if we need anything else. Thank you,” 

“I’m not going to a hospital,” Charles grinds out as they walk into the elevator. Lewis scowls at the younger man, “You don’t get to make that decision right now, Charles. If it was up to me then we’d already be there,” 

Charles narrows his eyes up at the older man, his face softening when Lewis’ stays hard, “Please,” He whimpers. 

“Jesus, Charles,” Lewis sighs, pressing a kiss to the younger man’s forehead, “We’ll see how badly you’re hurt and then we’ll decide okay? I know you don’t like hospitals but I’m not having you die in a hotel room because you were too stubborn to go,” 

“Am not stubborn,” Charles mutters, closing his eyes and leaning back against the side of the elevator. Lewis and Sebastian move to stand either side of him in case he stumbles, “No not at all,” Lewis replies dryly, smiling softly at the younger man when he opens his eyes to glare at him. 

They practically carry Charles to the hotel room, dragging him into the bathroom, turning on the light and forcing him down onto the toilet seat. 

Sebastian inhales a sharp breath when he sees their boyfriend in the bright light. The split lip, soon to be black eye, torn up clothes, and bruises peeking through his shirt. “Let’s get your clothes off, Charlie,” He instructs, kneeling down in front of the younger man and pulling off his shoes and jeans, then his shirt, with no help from the patient himself. 

Lewis opens the first aid kit and grabs an anti septic wipe, holding it out in front of Charles’ face, “This is going to sting, okay? It’ll only be for a few seconds. I just need to clean your cuts,” 

Charles nods on a whimper, clenching fists at his side and pulling back on a hiss when the wipe meets his skin, “Stop” 

Lewis pulls it back on a sigh, “Charles, we need to clean them. Stop being a baby. Little kids can deal with it so you can,” 

Charles glares at him but doesn’t argue when his boyfriend proceeds to wipe across the grazes on his face, pursing his lips when it stings. 

Sebastian watches them on a frown, pulling out his phone and googling the symptoms of internal bleeding - looking between the images on his phone and the bruises across Charles’ abdomen, relief rushing through him when they look nothing alike. 

Lewis throws the wipe into the bin and Sebastian cups their boyfriend’s cheek, “Do you think your ribs are broken? Don’t lie, just be honest. If they are then we don’t have to go to the hospital today we can go tomorrow,” 

Charles looks up at him sceptically, “Really?” 

“Do you think your ribs are broken?” Sebastian repeats, gently poking at one of the bruises on the younger man’s rib cage, grimacing when Charles hisses in pain and kicks him in the leg, “Get off! That hurt!” 

“Don’t kick me! I’m trying to help you, you little bastard!” Sebastian hisses, “I think at least one is broken,” He glances up at Lewis, “Should we go to the hospital?” 

“No!” Charles moans, standing up from the toilet, clutching his side in pain as he does, “No hospital,” 

“Sit down right now,” Sebastian orders, pushing the younger man back down, “You do not get to make any decisions! You could be bleeding out and you’d still say you didn’t need to go to a hospital! You sit there and be quiet whilst we decide what we are going to do with you,” 

Lewis runs a hand through his hair glancing between Sebastian, who he hasn’t seen look this overwhelmed since the last time they were with Charles in the hospital, and Charles, who looks like he’s ready to keel over. “I could call Toto? One of our doctors is staying in this hotel. He could come and have a look at Charles then we’ll have some actual medical advice,” 

“Okay,” Sebastian agrees quietly, “I just don’t want him to get any worse. Try and get him here quick,” 

Lewis nods, walking out of the room and lifting his phone to his ear. Sebastian tries to listen in to the conversation, flicking warning eyes to his boyfriend when he attempts to stand up and follow after Lewis, “Don’t you dare. Sit down,” 

Charles pouts but takes his seat again on a whimper. Sebastian kneels down in front of him, cupping his face, “You’re going to be alright, Charlie. I know you’re probably scared but we’re going to look after you, okay? Do you want some water?” 

Charles nods and Sebastian presses a kiss to his cheek, avoiding his split lip, walking out of the bathroom to retrieve a bottle of water from the mini fridge. 

He unscrews the cap and hands it to the younger man, turning to Lewis when he walks back in, “Toto has spoken our doctor. He’s on his way up,” 

“Good,” Sebastian nods, glancing at the younger man, “Do you think he has something to sedate you know who with if a hospital is needed?” 

“I heard that,” Charles mumbles, placing his half empty bottle onto the floor. 

“You were supposed to,”

Lewis rolls his eyes on a smirk, gently pushing Sebastian in the arm. 

“You two are angry at me,” 

They flip around to their boyfriend, frowning at the look of devastation on his face and the unshed tears in his eyes. 

“Of course we are not, Charles,” Lewis retorts forcefully, crouching down in front of his boyfriend, “None of this is your fault. We are worried that’s all. You’re hurt and we don’t know how we can help you,” 

“I didn’t listen to you,” Charles whispers, looking up at Sebastian. 

“Charlie,” Sebastian sighs, lowering himself down next to Lewis on a half smile, “You never listen to me. If I got angry at you every time you didn’t listen to me then I’d have no time to love you. This isn’t your fault. This is those so called Dutch fans’ fault and we will be reporting this to the Police. They can’t get away with hurting you like this,” 

“At least I won the race,” 

Lewis grins, stroking his thumb across the younger man’s cheek bone, “You did and they can’t take that away from you. I love you, sweetheart. I’m sorry this happened to you,” 

Charles shrugs his shoulders and Lewis takes in the mangled state of his boyfriend, trying to fight back the rage that fills him. He’s had Max’s fans abuse him before but never physically. If he ever finds out who did this to Charles he’ll make it his life mission to make it so that they regret it for the rest of their lives. 

There’s a quiet knock at the door and he stands up, “That’ll be Joe,” He announces, looking at Sebastian who nods, turning back to Charles when Lewis walks out to get the door. “Lewis’ doctor is going to check you over, okay? Listen to him and let him do his job,” 

“I don’t want to see a doctor,” Charles grumbles, ducking his head at the heated glare Sebastian shoots him, “Fine,” 

“Good boy,” Sebastian smirks, resting a hand in his boyfriend’s hair, “It’ll just be quick and then we’ll figure out what we need to do. I love you, okay? You’re not going to be alone. We’ll be right outside,” 

Charles flicks panicked eyes to him, “I want you both to stay, don’t leave me,” 

“We’ll just be outside the door, Charlie,” Sebastian placates, smiling slightly when Charles shakes his head, “Okay, okay. We’ll stay in here, alright? We won’t leave you,” 

“Guys this is Joe,” Sebastian stands up and shakes hands with the taller man, “Thank you for coming. I think his ribs are broken,” He informs the man, pointing over his shoulder at their boyfriend. 

“Hi Charles, I think we’ve met before in the garage,” The doctor greets, leaning down in front of the young man, “I just need to feel your ribs, okay? It’s going to hurt so apologies in advance,” 

Charles puts on a brave face, biting his lip to hold in the groan as the doctor pokes at his ribs and around his abdomen. 

“So it’s only me you’re willing to kick then?” Sebastian teases, arching an eyebrow at the narrowed eyes he receives from his boyfriend. 

“Shut up, Seb,” Charles hisses through gritted teeth, letting out a breath in relief when the doctor stands up and turns back to Lewis, “He hasn’t broken any ribs. By the looks of it it’s just a lot of bruising. He’ll be sore for a few days but he’s going to be fine. Just make sure he doesn’t do anything strenuous,” 

“That’s a lot easier said than done,” Lewis grumbles, holding out his hand to the man, “Thanks for coming by, Joe. I really appreciate it,” He leads the doctor out of the bathroom. 

“I told you I didn’t need to go to a hospital,” Charles mumbles on a cocky smirk. 

“You’re not a doctor so your opinion isn’t relevant,” Sebastian retorts dryly, shuffling closer when the younger man starts to stand up on a groan, “You look awful, Charlie. Your fans are going to be heartbroken when they see your pretty face all cut and bruised,” 

“Thanks Seb, that’s real nice,” Charles spits, groaning when he starts to walk. Sebastian wraps an arm around him and helps him out of the bathroom and onto the bed, perching down next to him and stroking a hand through his hair, “How could someone do this to you,” 

Lewis waves the doctor off and closes the door, walking back over on a smirk, “I don’t know we’ve been pretty close to giving him a bust lip before,” 

Sebastian laughs and Charles leans up on one arm to glare between them, “I’ve been beaten up and you two are laughing at me,” 

Lewis rolls his eyes on a smile, stripping off his clothes and sliding into bed behind the younger man, “We’re only joking, Charlie. Trust me we won’t rest until we find out who did this. No one gets away with hurting you,” 

Charles smiles softly, curling into Lewis’ side, “I just want to go to sleep,” Sebastian climbs next to them and wraps his arms around his boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his hair. 

“Thank you for looking after me,” 

“We’ll always look after you, Charlie. It’s you,” Lewis makes it sound so simple and Charles wonders if maybe it is that simple. It’s him and it’s them, they’d do anything for each other. 
_______________________________________________

“It feels like a lifetime ago I was turning 25, man,” Lewis murmurs quietly, stroking a hand through the hair of the sleeping body next to him. 

“That’s because it practically was a lifetime ago we turned 25,” Sebastian huffs, his eyes running over Charles’ face. 

He looks younger when he sleeps, like all people do, and it’s nice, in a way, but Sebastian doesn’t really like it. It reminds him that Charles is still barely at the start of his life, his career. There’s no signs of ageing on his fresh face; no crinkles between his eyes, no lines at his mouth. It makes him think of the stretch of years, of decades, separating him from who he was going to be, when he was young, and who he turned into. He remembers being 25 and feeling like he had the whole world under his feet. He remembers thinking he would go onto make history. 

Life is like that. It’s unkind. Sebastian already knew that. It doesn’t matter. Nostalgia is a sticky thing. It feels so good to romanticise the past so much it makes you sad about the present, but it’s addicting. He knows Charles appreciates the time of life he’s in - the one where his entire future in the sport is still yet to be written. A part of him is jealous, but mostly he’s happy for him. 

He loves Charles so purely. It feels as though they were never strangers. Not even for a moment. 

Sebastian peppers soft kisses along the younger man’s spine and Charles groans, aimlessly grasping for a pillow with his eyes firmly shut and covering his head, “It’s too early, go back to sleep,” 

There’s some muffled sniggers from either side of him and the kisses continue along his body, both mens’ stubble dragging across his skin and making him squirm.

“Time to get up, Charlie. We’ve got a big day planned,” Lewis informs him, and Charles turns over to lie on his back, one eye opening, “What have you got planned?” He asks on a murmur, trying his best to keep the excitement under wraps but from the looks on both mens faces’ he hasn’t done a very good job. 

“Well you’ll have to get up so you can find out,” Sebastian arches an eyebrow at him, stroking a finger down his cheek, “Come on, it’s already nearly 10,” 

Charles smiles lazily, snuggling back into the pillow and murmuring, “We can start at 11,” 

There’s a few seconds of silence and Charles starts to think maybe they’re going to let him actually sleep in longer. 

Until two sets of hands are digging into his body, making him yelp on a spluttered laugh and sit up in the bed, desperately pushing off their attacking fingers, “You’re both horrible. I’m awake now,” He mutters on a faux glare. 

Lewis smiles, leaning over the younger man and pressing a deep kiss to his lips, fingers running through the dark hair, “Happy 25th Birthday, Charlie. I love you so much,” 

Charles murmurs his thanks and accepts the greedy kiss Sebastian shoves on his lips, pulling away on a sigh. 

“I’m getting so old,” He groans, smirking when Lewis and Sebastian shoot him matching unimpressed looks, “No offence,” He adds cheekily, with an attempt at a wink. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly, wrapping an arm around the younger man’s neck, “You’re not getting old at all. I don’t want to hear you complain about getting old until you’re in your 30s,” He warns half heartedly, pressing a kiss to Charles’ temple, “Actually I don’t want to hear you complain about it then either because by then we’ll be in our 40s. You can never complain to us about getting old, save that for your friends,” 

Charles grins, “You’re not that old, Seb,” 

“Not that old?” Sebastian mocks, “I’m not old at all you cheeky bastard,” 

Charles shrugs his shoulders on a mischievous smirk and Sebastian narrows his eyes, running his fingers across the younger man’s skin, deliberately poking him in the ribs a couple of times and grinning when Charles squirms, “Come on birthday boy, get up. I’ll make pancakes and then we’ll start on the day,” 

“Where are my presents?” 

Lewis rolls his eyes, sharing a smirk with Sebastian, “You said you didn’t want anything,” 

Charles sits up in bed slightly looking between them with narrowed eyes. He’d only said that because he assumed they would get him something he wanted anyway. It’s the polite thing to say after all. 

“I said that but - but - I wanted something! It’s a big birthday! I’m 25!” He splutters, folding his arms across his chest at the amused expressions on the older men’s faces. 

“If you wanted something then you should have asked for it, Charlie,” Sebastian replies matter of factly, trying to keep the grin off his face, “We’re not mind readers,” 

“It doesn’t matter, I’m sure we’ll have a nice day anyway,” He mutters, rolling away from them and trying his best not to act like a child having a tantrum. He’s 25 now after all. 

Lewis and Sebastian burst out laughing and he shoots them a glare. Lewis leans over to cup a hand around his nape, “Your presents are downstairs, Charlie. We wouldn’t not get the birthday boy anything would we?” 

“You got me presents?” 

“Of course we did, sweetheart. Now, stop sulking and get up so you can open them,” 

Charles grins, jumping off the bed, almost managing to knock his boyfriends off the edge as he does, “Come on then,” He glees, pausing in the doorway, “And I wasn’t sulking,” 

“Of course you weren’t,” Lewis murmurs on a fond smile, listening to Charles’ footsteps bound down the stairs, “How old is he again? Are we sure he’s 25 today and not 5?” 

Sebastian laughs, getting off the bed and pulling Lewis up after, “I’m not sure of much with him,” 

Charles is already eyeing up the presents on the kitchen side when they walk in and he turns to them with a bright grin, “Which one can I open first?”

“You can open whatever ones you want,” Sebastian replies, crossing the room to him and sitting at the counter, “Can’t we have breakfast first though? Or can I at least have a cup of coffee?”

“Seb it’s my birthday,” Charles whines and Sebastian rolls his eyes on a smirk, “Fine, the birthday boy gets what he wants although I’m not sure how that’s different to any other day. Open your presents then,” 

Lewis huffs a laugh next to them, pressing a kiss to Sebastian’s cheek, “I’ll make us a coffee. Do you want a drink Charlie?” He asks the younger man who is already too busy demolishing the wrapping paper on the biggest present. 

Charles lifts the box up on a grin, “An ice cream machine!”

“Now you can have ice cream whenever you want and you won’t moan that I don’t have any,” Sebastian replies on an arched eyebrow. 

“Seb, have you got any ice cream?” Charles asks, appearing behind his boyfriend in the kitchen and wrapping strong arms around his waist. 

Sebastian turns around to arch an eyebrow at the younger man, encircling his waist with his own arms, “No, Charlie. I don’t tend to stock up on ice cream in the winter,” 

Charles huffs and drops his head to the older man’s shoulder, “You should. Ice cream is for all year round,”

“Maybe you should learn to make ice cream then you could have it whenever you want,” 

Charles frowns, pulling back to eye his boyfriend, “How do you make ice cream?” 

“With an ice cream machine,” Sebastian deadpans, cupping the younger man’s cheek, “Do you want to go into town and get some ice cream?” 

“I love it, thank you,” Charles murmurs, placing the box to the side and grabbing the envelope on the side, “Is this a card?” 

Lewis walks back over, placing two mugs of steaming coffee onto the side and leaning against the counter on a grin, “Open it and see,” 

Charles arches an eyebrow at him but rips the envelope open, gaping at the tickets that fall onto the table. “Backstage at Coldplay! How? Oh my God! That’s amazing!” 

Lewis shrugs his shoulders, “I know some important people. I just hope when you go you actually know their songs,” 

Charles glares at his boyfriend, “They’re my favourite band, Lewis! Of course I know their songs!” 

“What is this song? Was it from before I was born?” Charles asks on a roll of the eyes, grabbing Lewis’ phone from the car console and frowning when he sees the band, “Oh it’s Coldplay,” 

Lewis glances at him with an amused smile, “Yes, it’s Coldplay. It’s one of their older ones though. You would probably only have been a little kid when it came out,” 

“I like it,” Charles says, turning the volume up, “Coldplay are my favourite band,” 

“You say that a lot yet most of the time you don’t even recognise their songs,” 

“They are my favourite, Lewis!” 

Lewis looks away from the road quickly to smirk at his boyfriend’s pouting form, “If you say so, sweetheart,” 

“We probably would have been better getting you tickets to see whoever sings that Senorità song,” Sebastian teases, sipping at his coffee. 

“Coldplay are my favourite band,” Charles snaps on a glare, picking up the last present and shaking it, “This one sounds expensive,” 

Lewis snorts, “Don’t think about that. Just open it and tell us if you like it,” 

Charles smiles and pulls the wrapping paper off to reveal a large gift box. As soon as he opens it his eyes start to water, “It’s perfect,” He murmurs lifting the bracelet out of the box and huffing a watery laugh at the engraved words. 

Happy 25th Birthday to our star boy love L&S 

“Our favourite star boy,” Sebastian murmurs, cupping a hand under his boyfriend’s cheek, “We love you, Charlie,” 

“Max is only 12 points ahead of me now,” Charles murmurs, scrolling down the championship leaderboard on his phone and peeking up at his boyfriends, “And there’s only five races left,” 

He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to say this will be his first championship but he’s never felt so confident. He’s never felt so sure. Ferrari have the stronger car. He’s going to win. He feels like a champion. 

“In five races time you’re going to be the world -“ 

“Lewis!” Charles interjects on a groan, and the older man laughs softly, carding a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, “I know, I know, don’t jinx it. This was always going to be your year though, Charles. You’re our star boy,”

Charles arches a sceptical eyebrow at him, “Star-boy? Not Star-man?” 

Lewis huffs a laugh, taking in the baby face of his clean shaven boyfriend; the absence of any wrinkles on his skin, the boyish dimples, the youthful glint in his eyes, “Star boy,” He confirms on a grin, straddling the younger man and pressing his fingers into his sides, laughing along as his boyfriend erupts in a squeal of giggles, “An adorable star boy,” 

Sebastian watches them with a fond smile, “Always our star boy,” He murmurs in agreement, grabbing Charles by the waist and hauling him back down on the bed when he manages to slip out from under Lewis. 

“I love you guys too,” Charles whispers, placing the bracelet back in the box and rubbing at his eyes, “You didn’t need to get me all of this,” 

“Oh Charlie,” Lewis murmurs on a fond roll of the eyes, wrapping the younger man in his arms and pressing a kiss to his lips, “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Stop being silly,”

“I don’t deserve this. You’re both too good to me. I love you both so much, more than anything, more than racing, more than piano,”

“Stop it, Charlie,” Sebastian hushes him, carding a hand through his hair, “Of course you deserve it. You’re everything to us. Happy Birthday sweetheart,” 

Chapter Text

“Why aren’t you happy for me? I know you lost last year and you didn’t win a race this year but you should be happy for me!”

Lewis stares at his boyfriend across the hotel room. They should be on their way out to celebrate Charles’ championship but somehow they’ve ended up here - seething and arguing.

And Charles is so frivolous with his words, he always has been. He throws them around like they don’t cut. Like they don’t sit in his gut and weigh him down.

“The championship was stolen from me Charles!” He bites, clenching his fists at his side and doing everything he can to stop himself from screaming everything he’s feeling at his boyfriend. He’s happy for him, of course he is. Charles is finally a world champion. He’s been deserving of one for at least two years now. He’s happy for Charles. He’s proud of him.

And he resents him for it.

This should have been his year. This should have been the year he said fuck you to the FIA. The year he bounced back from the last minute rule change that resulted in the championship slipping away from him in real time. His chance of breaking an all time record.

Instead he’s done nothing. He can’t remember the last season he hadn’t won a race. Fuck, he might have been Charles’ age. It was a lifetime ago.

“You are angry at me,” Charles whispers, meeting his eyes and seeming to find whatever he’s looking for because his voice is louder, more confident when he says, “You’re angry at me for winning the championship,”

“No,” He spits immediately, faltering and not being able to say anything else because he is angry. He’s angry at Charles. He’s angry his boyfriend is going to go onto win many more championships. He’s angry that his own teammate has over a decade left in the sport to win championships. He’s angry that Sebastian is retiring and leaving him alone with drivers who are from a completely different generation. He’s angry because he shouldn’t be in this position. He shouldn’t be feeling like he’s let himself down. He should be an eight time world champion.

“Yes you are! You should be happy for me! I deserve this!” Charles roars, crossing the room to him, stopping a foot away. He looks beautiful. He always looks beautiful but especially when he’s standing up for himself. When his eyes are wild and his hair a mess.

“Charles, stop,” Sebastian’s voice is stern. It’s the tone he uses with both of them when they’re getting too heated.

“I deserved it too but I never had a chance,” He hisses, closing his eyes briefly. He sees it so clearly. Hears it so clearly. Bono telling him Max is on fresh tires. Max overtaking him. The unfiltered pain when he released he was about to lose the championship.

“You’ve won it seven times, Lewis! You’ll win it again! Why can’t you just be happy for me?” The last part comes out as a whine and Lewis looks at his boyfriend, mortified to find tears in the green eyes. Charles has just won the championship. Charles has just won his first championship. They should be out celebrating. He should be showering his boyfriend with drinks, love, and praise. He has to look away because he’s filled with shame. He loves Charles so purely, so overwhelmingly.

“I am hap -“ He starts to say but the sound of the hotel door slamming interrupts him and he looks up to find Sebastian alone, watching him, disappointment in his eyes.

“Lewis,” Sebastian doesn’t have to say anything else because he can hear the disapproval. He knows he’s probably just ruined what should have been the best day of Charles’ life. He knows he’ll regret this for the rest of his.

“I should be over it,” He gasps, falling to his knees, not bothering to wipe the tears away when they start falling.

Sebastian drops down next to him, pulling him into his arms, stroking nimble fingers through his hair. He won’t have this next year. He won’t have Sebastian to console him after a race. He won’t have Sebastian to congratulate him.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” He sobs, burrowing his head into the man’s shoulder. Sebastian tenses slightly. Lewis isn't surprised. He's always been strong. Charles was the one that didn't handle it well. He was strong for the both of them. He comforted Charles when he cried at the thought of not having their boyfriend on the grid, promised him they’d be fine, that they’d have each other. 

He didn’t let himself think about it too much. It’s real now. Sebastian will never race again. They’ll never battle on the same track again. He’d told the press that Sebastian would come back and his boyfriend had laughed along. They both knew though. They knew he wouldn’t. This is a decision that he’s thought long and hard about. It’s final. 

“This is about me leaving?” Sebastian murmurs, leaning back to look him in the eye, “I thought this was about…” He can’t get the words out and Lewis is glad. He doesn’t want to hear the words. I thought this was about you losing last year.

“It’s all of it,” He cries, clearing his throat and scrubbing at his eyes, “It’s Charles winning. It’s me not winning. It’s you leaving. It’s all of it. I don’t know who I am anymore, Seb,” 

“You’re Lewis Hamilton. You’re one of the greatest of all time,” 

“I just screamed at Charles. I just ruined the best day of his life. Why did I do that? I’m so proud of him. I’m so hopelessly in love with him. Why did I do that? What have I turned into?” 

“You’re allowed to be upset, Lewis,” Sebastian retorts fiercely, cupping his face, “You’re allowed to feel…but you shouldn’t have taken it out on Charles,”

“I know,” He admits on a whisper. He’ll apologise to Charles, he’ll hold him close and promise him he’ll always be proud.

Sebastian gives him a sad smile, shifting on the floor and sitting cross legged in front of him, grabbing his hands to hold. “It can’t be easy being back here after last year,”

Lewis let’s out a humourless laugh, shaking his head and clearing his throat, “No it’s not. I - I didn’t think it’d hurt this much though,”

“It’s been a rough year,” Sebastian points out and God is that not the understatement of the century.

He remembers walking out of pre-season testing and the way it felt like his dreams were evaporating in front of him. He remembers the lengthy conversations with Toto. How have we ended up here? How had they missed the mark so much this year?

It was supposed to be his year. Instead it ended up being one of the worst of his career. He’s not some rookie anymore. He’s not some 20-something. He doesn’t have all the time in the world. His days left in this sport are numbered.

The faces around him are changing. He’ll lose Sebastian, the one constant he’s had his whole career. Next year he’ll be surrounded by young men in their prime. Next year there’ll be drivers on the grid who he’s old enough to have fathered.

“What if this is it? What if I never get back on top?”

Sebastian cups his face, determined eyes looking at him, the same ones that used to look at him before they’d race in the 2010’s, “You’re a fighter, Lewis. You always have been. You get up and you try again. You get in the car next year and you remind everyone how great you are,”

He inhales a breath, closing his eyes briefly. He knows he’s still great. He knows he still can win. It’s not just Max and Charles he’ll be racing against now though. It’s his own teammate. He saw the look in George’s eyes after his first win. He remembers that look in his own. It’s addicting. Once you get your first win you’d do anything to win again.

George is young and hungry. George came into the team and beat him in his first year. George is the future of the team and Lewis isn’t even sure if he’s the present anymore. Maybe he’s just the past.

“George isn’t like Val,” He muses, thinking of the times his ex-teammate had sacrificed a race to help him get the win. Valteri had accepted the role as second driver. George had accepted it but he’s young enough, determined enough that he might not be so willing next year. Lewis doesn’t blame him for that. He was the same once. He still is that way.

He can picture the collisions on track. He can picture the debriefs. He’s done this before. They’ll both be so desperate to prove themselves, for different reasons but with the same goal.

Sebastian scoffs, “You can beat George. It’s not George’s time yet. It’s yours and you need to grab it with both hands, don’t let go,”

Lewis nods slightly. He knows Sebastian is right. This is his time. He might have over a decade on well over half the grid but that means he’s got the experience. Formula 1 is a young man’s sport but more than anything it’s his sport. It’s the sport he’s dedicated his life to. It’s the sport he’s sacrificed for.

“You know this is the first time in sixteen years neither me or you have been in the top two of the championship,” He says quietly, tentatively, because it scares him a bit. Things are changing. They’re getting older.

Sebastian hums in acknowledgment, a smile on his face. He looks at peace with it. “They’re some pretty good numbers. It couldn’t last forever though. It was about time they took over for us,”

“They’ll never have anything on us though,” He rushes out desperately. Max and Charles might be the rivalry of the future and he hopes they stay respectful but they’ll never be him and Sebastian. They’ll never rely on each other the way he and Sebastian have throughout the years despite competing. They’ll never stand up for things with each other like he and Sebastian did.

“No, they’ll never have anything on us,” Sebastian agrees on an amused smile. They fall into silence, looking at each other, appreciating each other. There’s an air of reminisce. A finality to it all.

“Do you think Charles and Max will be sitting like this in 10 years time?” Sebastian asks on a watery laugh.

Lewis snorts, rolling his eyes fondly and wiping the tears away from his cheeks, “They better not be. We’ll be the ones wiping away Charles’ tears when he’s just drove his final race and won his ninth championship,”

“Ninth?” Sebastian huffs a laugh, arching his eyebrows, “Those are some high expectations,”

Lewis waves a dismissive hand in front of his face, “You know he could do it. He probably won’t with Ferrari but he could,”

“Don’t tell him that, we’d never hear the end of it,” Sebastian groans on a smirk and they both laugh before falling silent again, “You need to look out for him when I’m gone, Lewis. Don’t let this sport ruin him. Don’t let him get lost,”

“You’re not dying, Seb,”

“Lewis,” Sebastian pleads, sincere and desperate.

“Of course I will,” He promises, lifting his boyfriend’s hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss against it, “I always do,”

They fling wide eyes to the door when it opens and Charles walks in looking between them on a frown, “What are you two doing?”

Lewis side eyes Sebastian and then they both burst out laughing because what must they look like? Two grown men sitting on the floor cross legged opposite each other, tears dripping down their cheeks, clutching each other’s hands.

Charles is obviously still hurt. He doesn’t look like someone that just won their first championship. “Whatever,” He barks, turning away from them and grabbing his wallet off the side, “I forgot my wallet. I’m going out to celebrate,”

“Come here, Charlie,” Lewis pleads, letting go of Sebastian’s hand and holding it out to the younger man, “I need to talk to you,”

Charles watches him, probably trying to decide if this is going to make his night any worse.

“Come on, Charlie,” Sebastian urges, and Charles rolls his eyes but walks over, planting himself down on the floor next to them.

“Just so you know I’m not helping you two up off the floor,” Charles grumbles, peeking up at them through long lashes, the hint of a grin on his face.

“Shut it,” Lewis warns half heartedly, poking him in the side, shuffling round a bit so he can cup the younger man’s face in his hands, “I love you so much, Charles, and I am so sorry for not proving that to you today,”

Charles shrugs his shoulders, “It’s okay. I know it must be hard for you,”

“No,” Lewis replies abruptly, “No, that doesn’t matter, Charlie. I shouldn’t have taken out my stuff on you. You deserve this championship. You were amazing this year. I am so fucking proud of you and I am so in love with you,”

“I love you too,” Charles murmurs back, melting into the deep kiss Lewis places to his lips, ducking his head when they pull apart and Sebastian’s hand shoots out to ruffle his hair, “We’re really proud of you, sweetheart,”

Charles murmurs his thanks, pressing chaste kisses on both men’s lips, pulling back and whispering, “We won’t be able to do this next year,”

“Of course we will. I’m not going to miss the last race of the season. Who will be winning the championship next year though?”

“Me,” Lewis and Charles reply at the same time, shooting smirks at the other. Sebastian rolls his eyes on a grin, “As long as it’s one of you I don’t care,”
_______________________________________________

Lewis shifts in the bed, snuggling up to Charles and reaching his arm over to clutch Sebastian. His hand touches the mattress instead and he blinks slowly, pushing himself up and frowning when he realises there’s an empty space.

Charles is sleeping restlessly. The stress of going into the final race almost neck and neck with Max clearly getting to him. He presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek, pulling back on a wince when the younger man groans in his sleep. He cards a hand through his boyfriend’s hair until he’s breathing deeply again, then slides out of the bed.

Lewis makes his way down the stairs deliberately avoiding the parts that he knows from experience will creak, stopping in the doorway of the room when he spots Sebastian in the dimly lit space standing in front of his trophy cabinet.

“Having regrets?” He asks trying to make sure it comes out as playful when really it’s nothing but hopeful.

Trying to act as if he’s not silently praying that Sebastian will turn around to him next week, a grin on his face, and say he had no idea what he was thinking when he announced his retirement. That he can’t leave the sport yet, he can’t leave him yet.

When Sebastian turns around he knows there’s no chance of him saying that. The man looks peaceful, maybe a bit reminiscent with the tears shining in his eyes, but more than anything he looks like someone who knows he’s made the right decision.

“No,” Sebastian replies on an amused smile, turning back to the trophies on a sigh, “Just couldn’t sleep,”

Lewis hums, crossing the room to him and standing shoulder to shoulder taking in the vast amount of trophies. There are more in his own trophy cabinets but Sebastian’s have records attached to his. The world champion trophy at the top - his first one that he’d won at only 23 - to this day represents the record of the youngest ever winner.

Sebastian looks at him on a sad smile and grabs his hand, pulling him over to the sofa and wrapping an arm around him, “This isn’t a sad thing, Lewis. This is just the way things go,”

Lewis tends to disagree. This is perhaps the saddest thing he’s experienced in a long time. He’d lose every championship to Max or Charles if it meant he could have Sebastian racing with him still. If it meant that things didn’t have to change.

But it’s selfish to think like that when he knows in his heart that Sebastian really is ready to leave. He has no right to beg him to stay. Sebastian’s career hasn’t been easy. He’s been taken for granted. He’s been slandered. “As long as you’re happy, Seb. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you,”

His boyfriend smiles slightly on a nod, squeezing his hand. Lewis can feel the tears starting to build in his eyes because this is really it. At the weekend he will race against Sebastian for the last time.

“Do you remember when we were in F3?” Sebastian’s voice breaks the silence. It’s wistful, the same way it has been for the past month when he talks about anything racing related. The voice of someone who is leaving the sport that made him who he is behind.

“I remember beating you,” He replies meekly, grinning when Sebastian shoots him a faux glare and adding, “Of course I remember. 2005, where did the time go?”

“Charles was 8,” Sebastian deadpans and they both cringe in the same way they always do when they’re reminded of how much older they are than their boyfriend, then they laugh because this is really their life. They’ve really been this lucky.

“If someone had said to me back then that in 17 years I’d be in love with you and a 25 year old Ferrari driver, I’d have thought they were crazy,” He muses, shifting in Sebastian’s arms to look at him.

They’re so much older now. They’re completely different people. They’ve grown together, matured together. They’ve watched each other succeed. They’ve watched each other fail.

He’s known Sebastian as a 17 year old desperately trying to prove himself. He known Sebastian as a 24 year old when the world hated him for winning. He’s known Sebastian as a 33 year old, struggling in a car and a team that had fallen out of love with him. He’s known him all this time but at the core Sebastian has stayed the same. He’s always been a beautiful person; kind, caring and honest.

“I might have believed it. Well, not the bit about the 25 year old but I’d have believed I was in love with you,”

Lewis snorts, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand, “Seriously? We hated each other back then,”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “We didn’t. We hated each other in Baku 2017,”

“Let’s not bring that back up again,” Lewis replies on a smirk. They’d spoken it about back then. Sebastian had apologised. He doesn’t like to think about it though. Doesn’t like to think about how if they hadn’t both been mature enough their relationship could have been ruined.

“Let’s not,” Sebastian agrees, eyes playful and light, the same way they’ve always been ever since he’s known him. And, God. God, he loves him. He’s probably always loved him.

“I love you, Seb. You’ve always been my greatest rival but my biggest supporter. I can’t imagine doing this without you,”

“You won’t be without me,” Sebastian whispers, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips, “You might not be passing me on the track anymore but you won’t ever be without me. You could anyway. You could do it without me. You’re Lewis Hamilton. You’re going to make history,”

“What if I never win again?” It’s the first times he’s voiced the question that has plagued him for the last year. It’s the only time he’ll voice it. It’s the only time he feels safe enough to voice it.

He could say it to Charles but the younger man has always worshipped him. He’d be offended. He’d argue he’ll win every race for the rest of his career. In some ways Charles is deluded but Lewis supposes that’s what happens when you fall in love with two people that you grew up wanting to be. He and Sebastian have joked about it before; the way Charles holds them in such high regard, as if they’re superhuman when really they’ve just been lucky. They’ve just had the right cars. They’ve got the talent too of course, but no more than Charles. Their boyfriend doesn’t see it that way though.

Sebastian does and that’s why he’s not surprised when the man shrugs his shoulders on a lazy smile, “Then you don’t win again, you’d still be remembered as one of the best there’s ever been,”

“You’ll be remembered, Seb,” He replies quietly because he knows that although Sebastian has always argued he doesn’t care how he’s remembered, a part of him does. He knows Sebastian. And he knows that when you have given your blood, sweat and tears to something. When you’ve sacrificed a normal life, been scrutinised endlessly by the media, almost lost yourself for it. You’d want to be remembered.

Sebastian’s eyes fill with tears and he releases a shaky laugh, “I hope so,”

“You will,” He urges, cupping the man’s face, “I won’t let them forget you,”

Sebastian looks like he’s about to burst into tears and Lewis smiles, stroking a thumb across his cheek. “Our rivalry was the highlight of my career. Thank you, Seb. Thank you for always standing by me, for being brave when no one else would. For loving me,”

They’ve reached a point where they’re both openly crying now. The memories of almost two decades between them. A legacy coming to an end. Sebastian is perhaps the most important part of his career. A part he will always be grateful for.

“You don’t need to thank me for any of that,” Sebastian retorts on a watery grin, wiping a tear away from his cheek, “It’s been an honour to share the track with you, Lewis…but,” Sebastian pauses searching for the words.

“Everything has to end,” He answers for him and Sebastian huffs a laugh, the tears still falling.

“Everything has to end,” Sebastian agrees quietly, grasping his hands again, “Not this though. We will always have this,”

And Lewis thinks that is definitely better then having Sebastian on the track.
_______________________________________________

It’s not often they come out for dinner together. Even in Switzerland where they’re less at risk of being spotted together they try to stay under the radar as much as possible. Sometimes they take the risk though. Sometimes they want to just enjoy a nice meal out together.

“I forgot my wallet by the way,” Charles murmurs on a smirk, scooping the last bit of his dessert up and eyeing his boyfriends who are rolling their eyes at him.

“Isn’t that convenient?” Lewis drawls on an amused smile.

They’re lucky that money isn’t an issue for them. They have too much if anything. When Charles signed his extended Ferrari contract the other year he’d never seen so many zeroes.

Lewis and Sebastian have more than him, he knows that, but they’ve been racing a lot longer than him. He likes to think by the end of his career he’ll have made more money than them. Ferrari are desperate to keep him. They’ll go bankrupt to keep him.

Still, Lewis or Sebastian will normally pay. Today though he’d practically begged them to go out for dinner and to sweeten the deal he’d promised it was his treat. He would have happily paid too but his wallet genuinely is back at the house on the kitchen side.

“You can be my sugar daddy,” Charles replies on a grin, laughing when Sebastian grimaces.

“Don’t ever say that again,” Sebastian grumbles standing up, “I’ll go and pay. Wait for me in the car,”

They leave Sebastian with the bill and head out to the front of the restaurant, wrapping their coats tighter when the wind whips on their skin.

“Charles! Charles!”

The excited screeching makes them turn around and Charles smiles when there’s two boys running over to him, holding out a marker pen and a napkin.

“Charles! You’re our favourite racer! Can we have autograph?” One of the boys shouts in slightly broken English when they finally come to a halt in front of them, holding out the napkin. The kid can’t be any older than about nine years old.

Charles crouches down so he’s eye level with them and gladly accepts the marker and napkin. He loves all his fans but he has a special place in his heart for the children.

“What are your names?” He asks on a smile. Sebastian walks out of the restaurant and crosses the car park to them. Charles is glad he’s there when the two boys shout two German names at him that he has no idea how to spell.

He forces a smile at the children then looks over his shoulder at his boyfriend who rolls his eyes on a smirk, leaning down slightly to murmur the spellings in his ear.

“There you go,” Charles grins, getting ready to hand the marker up to Lewis and Sebastian so they could autograph it too, but the youngest boy takes it before he gets the chance.

“Photo?” The older boy asks hopefully, holding his phone out. Charles nods on a smile, “All of us?”

The boy nods eagerly and Charles takes the phone from him, lifting it up to take a selfie, making sure to get Lewis and Sebastian in the shot.

“No, no,” The boy moans, tugging on his arm, “Just you and us. Racing driver,”

“We are all race drivers. They -“ He starts to explain, trying to hide his surprise that out of the three of them he is the one they recognise.

“Charles, it’s fine,” Lewis interjects on a smile, taking the phone off him and gesturing for him to get between the children, “Smile,”

Charles does smile because the kids are sweet and they talk a mile minute about their favourite races he’s won, but he doesn’t miss to the defeated looks on Lewis and Sebastian’s faces.

“Thank you,” The boys shout, hugging him quickly and running off when their parents call for them.

“Ready?” Lewis asks, not waiting for a response and walking off to the car, Sebastian following after him.

The drive back to Sebastian’s house is quiet besides the soft melody playing from the radio. Charles casts glances at the older men in the front seat but they either don’t notice or don’t want to engage. He recognises their body language. They’re deep in thought.

When they get back Sebastian announces he’s making some tea. Lewis drops down on the sofa with a sigh.

Charles hovers behind him unsure of what to do, fidgeting with his hands, because normally Lewis would have pulled him down beside him.

“What are you doing Charlie?” Lewis questions, not taking his eyes off the TV as he flicks through the apps to find something.

“Nothing,”

Lewis turns slightly to look at him with an arched eyebrow, “Are you going to sit down or are you just going to stand behind me like you’re planning something?”

Charles feels his face flush slightly and he kicks his shoes off, rounding the sofa and sitting down next to his boyfriend - pretending not to be hurt when the older man shuffles over slightly.

Sebastian comes back in holding two mugs of tea and places them down on the table, sitting down beside him. Charles doesn’t like tea and so he hopes that’s the only reason his boyfriend didn’t offer to make him any.

“What are we watching?” Sebastian asks, craning his neck to look at Lewis behind the younger man’s head.

“I don’t know, man. How about Star Wars? Wolf of Wall Street? Love Actually?”

“Are you two annoyed at me?” Charles asks abruptly. Lewis stops listing the films and glances at him on a frown, “‘Why would we be annoyed at you?”

“You know because of earlier,” Charles replies vaguely, biting his lip and looking between them.

Sebastian rolls his eyes on a smirk, “Charles, you’re not the most put together person. I wasn’t that shocked that you forgot your wallet. It doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it,”

“I didn’t mean that,” Charles sighs, leaning back on the sofa, folding his arms across his chest and feeling very scrutinised as the older men stare at him in confusion. “I meant because those kids asked me for my autograph and not you two,”

“Oh,” Sebastian says, frowning again, “Why would we be annoyed at you for that? It’s not like you told them not to ask us…unless you did,” He adds on a playful smirk, huffing a laugh when Charles rolls his eyes, and tangling his fingers in the dark head of hair, “No, Charlie. We’re not annoyed at you. It’s to be expected,”

“What do you mean?” Charles questions on furrowed brows. In his mind that’s the most unexpected thing to happen. Why would anyone want his autograph and picture over two multi world champions?

Lewis gives up trying to find something to watch and turns to his boyfriend on a soft smile, “They were young kids, Charles. Kids getting into F1 now are going to be yours, Max’s, Lando’s and George’s fans,”

“But you’re world champions,” Charles murmurs, “You’re two of the best in the history of the sport,”

“To you, maybe,” Lewis concedes, cupping the younger man’s face, “When you were about their age we were the faces of Formula 1. Now it’s your generation that are. They will grow up with you winning championships,”

“You were my heroes. I wanted to be as good as you,” Charles remembers when he’d gotten really serious about karting. When he’d been about 13 years old and certain that one day he wanted to be in Formula 1. He remembers watching the races on the TV and the way Lewis and Sebastian would be outperforming everyone.

“That was a long time ago, Charles. I was in the prime of my career back then and now I'm retiring. You're those kids' heroes now," Sebastian says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

The words hit him like a truck. The responsibility. Lewis and Sebastian were his role models. It was their posters he had on his bedroom wall. It was their moves on the track he’d watch on repeat, enthralled by their skill. 

Now there’s an entirely new generation of fans that are growing up watching him. They’re watching him overtake Lewis around corners. They’re watching Max winning the championship. They’re watching him about to win his first. It’s his shirt they’re wearing. They’ll grow up wanting to be like him. 

“Does that not bother you?” 

Lewis huffs out a breath, shrugging his shoulders, “That’s just how things go, Charlie. We aren’t going to be around as long as you. You’re the future of the sport now,”

“Until I’m not,” Charles murmurs, thinking about the talent he sees when he occasionally gets back to the karting tracks. The talent in F3 and F2. His own brother. 

“Until you’re not,” Lewis agrees on a sad smile, “You’ve got a long way to go before that though. You’ll win races and championships. You’ll learn things and become a better driver. You’ve got everything ahead of you, Charles,” 

“They’re going to look up to us,” Charles muses, “They’re going to ask us for advice. They’re going to come to us for support,” 

It’s always been Lewis and Sebastian that he’d gone to for anything racing related, even before they were together. Pierre, George, Lando, Alex, maybe even Max; they’d all gone to them and the older men had guided them through the highs and lows of the sport. They’d been a constant support until they could do it on their own. Until now when they’re all leading their teams, winning races, scoring points. Lewis and Sebastian had influenced an entire generation. 

“You two helped us become the drivers we are today. Me, Lando, George, Alex, and Pierre, we learnt from you,” 

Sebastian smiles slightly, shaking his head, “No we didn’t. We gave you the odd bit of advice but you were all more than ready to be in F1,” 

“Because of you two!” Charles exclaims, looking between them with wide eyes, “You inspired us! You two don’t realise the impact you had and are still having! Since I was a child I wanted to be like you and even now I hope to be as good as you,” 

“Charles,” Sebastian sighs, ready to argue, ready to dispel the idea that he’s impacted on any of the younger driver’s lives. But Charles is looking at him like he put the sun in the sky. He’s looking at him in the same way he used to when they’d go over issues with the car together and the younger man would hang on to his every word. He’s looking at him in the same way he did the first time he came into the factory with a notebook after watching him carry one around, sitting down next to him where he’d already been jotting down his own notes. 

And he thinks maybe he has had an impact. Maybe the calm but stern words he’d lectured Charles with when they’d crashed on the track stuck with him. Charles and Carlos have competitive cars this year but they haven’t collided. Maybe the many phone calls he’d had with Pierre when the kid had been destroyed over losing his Redbull seat had impacted on him. Pierre has done what he’d told him. He’s not taken his talent for granted. He’s found a new team that will appreciate him, that will help him grow into the driver he can be. 

Maybe he made a difference. 

“Thank you,” He breathes, feeling the lump in his throat, pulling Charles closer and pressing a deep kiss to his lips, murmuring, “I love you, I always will,” 

“In a couple of years time it’s going to be your turn, Charlie,” Lewis remarks on an encouraging smile, “In a few years when Seb and I aren’t around anymore, it’s going to be all of you that need to guide the young drivers. You’ll be the heroes,” 

“I can do that,” Charles promises on a smile, “You both taught me how to do that,”