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Chapter Text

Charles tried so hard, so fucking hard.

He prepared all year, practiced every fucking day.

It wasn’t enough. Max Verstappen beat him in the world championship.

Max took the title. Not him.

Max won it all. Not him.

Charles said nothing to his team on the other end of his car radio. They said nothing in return, they were all dissapointed. His manager, Frederic, voice came over the radio as he was about to get out of his car and storm into the paddock.

“Meet me in your dressing room. Now.”

Charles said nothing in return. He simply got out of his car, sparring one glance at Max Verstappen who was in his teams arms. Red-Bulls arms. He had a wide smile on his face and was laughing with Christian. If Charles wasn’t so pissed he would think Max deserved it. He didn’t. Charles deserved to win, not Max.

Charles walked through the paddock and to his dressing room. No one sparred him a glance. No one even saw him, all they saw was Max, the world champion. As he slammed the door open to his room he scanned the area. It was empty except for Frederic.

Tense silence filled the room as the two looked at each other with equal levels of anger on their faces. It was broken by Frederic speaking.

“Sit.”

Charles sat. He could feel himself burning with anger from the inside, he was practically shaking with rage. Whatever Frederic had to say better be good because he was about to lash out.

“Im only going to say this once, Charles. There is no room for discussion in what I am about to tell you. If you do not do this, this will be your last race in Ferrari, and your last race in formula 1.”
Charles eyes widened. The anger in his body shifted to concern. He knew he raced bad but that wasn’t his fault. Ferrari never listened to him or Carlos.

Charles leaned forward as Frederic spoke again.

“You are going to steal Red-Bulls secrets. You are going to figure out how they race like they do.” A beat passed then Charles laughed. He didn’t know Frederic was pulling pranks on him now.

“Is this some fucked up joke because I didn’t do well?” Charles asked. When Frederic didn’t laugh with him Charles smile faded off his face. Then Frederic handed him a contract. Charles read over it and his jaw went slack. He was dead fucking serious. Frederic wanted him to steal Red-Bulls secrets. His manager had forged his signature. He could be kicked off the team if he didn’t do as the contract read.

“What!” Charles sputtered. “You really can’t expect me to do this?”

“I do and you will.” Frederic replied calmly. “Next season will be Ferrari’s season. With all of Red-Bulls secrets of course.”

Charles shook his head. “You are fucking insane. How do you suppose I steal all of Red-bulls secrets, huh? Am I going to wear an all black suit and break into their headquarters at midnight?”

“Max Verstappen.” Frederic replied. “You seriously can’t see the way he looks at you? The kid is infatuated with you.”

Charles leaned forward the anger coming to the surface. “Max hates me! He loathes my guts. We’ve been practically enemies since we were younger.”

Frederic sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “On the podium you are going to act like you are happy for him. Then you are going to congratulate him and invite him for dinner. Get him drunk and get the secrets.”

Charles rose to his feet. “You seriously can’t expect me to gain Red-Bulls secrets in a goddamn night!”

“You have five days.” Frederic walked to the door. The gravity of the situation finally hit him.

“You can’t expect me to fall in love with Max Verstappen!”

That caused Frederic to pause with his hand resting on the door knob. He turned around. “I don’t. I expect you to pretend to fall in love with him. I expect you to be such a good actor he believes you are infatuated with him as he is with you. Then I expect you to take everything from him.”

Charles was left in silence. He glanced at his watch. He had to be on the podium in five minutes.

He had to gain Red-Bulls secrets in five days, less then a week. He had to pretend to fall in love with Max Verstappen in less than that. Charles took a deep breath, stood up, and went to the sink to splash cold water on his face. Then, he fixed his ruffled hair and starred at his reflection in the mirror. He held his chin up.

In that moment his fate was sealed. In that moment he made his choice.

Charles would do anything to stay in Formula one. Anything.

Even if it meant taking something from someone else.

-

Charles did as Frederic told him too. On the podium he laughed with Max, spraying the expensive champagne right in his face, making him look at Charles and only Charles. Max’s eyes lightened when he turned to him.

This would be easier than he thought.

Afterward he took Max by the arm. “I forgot to tell you congratulations. My manager needed me after the race. You did amazing, truly!”

Max flushed. “Thank you. I really worked hard to be here.”

Not as hard as Charles did.

A group of fans were screaming Max’s name, he looked over at them before fixing his attention back on Charles.

“Are you doing anything later tonight?” Charles questioned, flashing him a smile. “I don’t want to hold you back from fans, I was just wondering.”

“Oh,” Max whispered, voice teetering disbelief. “I have a Red-Bull party to go to but I am free afterwards.”

Perfect. He would already be drunk.

“Would you like to come to my place? It will be a little late for dinner but we could play some Fifa?”

Max smiled. “I would love that.”

Charles grinned in return. “Here, I’ll give you my number and text you my address.”

Max thanked him for his number then walked over to the fans. They screamed when he began to sign their things. Charles watched for a second with a fake look of admiration on his face. There was no way the fans didn’t notice.

As he walked back into his dressing room and took a shower he thought about everything that was happening.

Charles wished he could say he felt bad. He didn’t. He felt no regret, no remorse, no hesitation.

He felt nothing except the desire to win.

-

It was close in two in the morning and Charles was thinking about going to bed. Max still hadn’t shown up. He understood Red-Bull parties were wild but geez, he was exhausted.
Then he heard a soft knock at his door. Charles got to his feet, fixing his hoodie and smoothing out his sweatpants. He opened the door. Max looked like he was struggling to stand.

“Hi.” Charles whispered, opening his door to let him in.

“Hello!” Max replied, slurring his words, and falling into Charles. He had a suit on and his breath reeked of booze.

Charles led him to his couch, sitting next to him. He wouldn’t even need to give him any more alcohol, now he just needed Max to talk.

“Sorry I didn’t come earlier. Daniel made me drink a keg.” Max voice was loud, like he was still in the club. His head slumped into Charles lap and he blinked blearily. “I don’t remember everything. It was a lot.”

“Thats alright.” Charles mused, running his hands though Max’s hair. The dutchman relaxed into the touch, like a cat would. Max’s eyes slipped shut. Charles was trying to figure out the best approach to finding out Red-Bulls secrets when Max spoke.

“You know I like you?” Max questioned, alcohol taking over his speech.

Charles faked surprise. “You do?”

“Yeah. A lot, a lot.”

‘What if I said I liked you too?” Charles watched as Max’s closed eyes shot open.

“You do?” Max sounded hopeful and a little desperate.

“I do Max.” Charles moved his hands from Max’s hair to his cheekbone. Max closed his eyes once more.

“Oh.” A few seconds later Max was asleep with a smile on his face.

The monegasque slowly scooted out from under him.

As Charles went to his bedroom and finally went to bed he had to remind himself not to get attached, and that this was his only option. Charles would get Red-Bulls secrets.

No matter what it took.

Chapter Text

Max woke up slowly.

For the first time in a long time.

He. Woke. Up. Slowly.

The dutchman was used to rough hands shaking him, demanding him to get up or loud alarms forcing him from his sleep deprived nights. He wasn’t used to this. Max blinked a few times and looked around the room. Where was he? He didn’t remember anything past Daniel forcing him to drink a keg. Did Daniel take him home? Max scanned the room, he had been in Daniels apartment before and it didn’t look like this.

He sat up from the couch he was on and searched his pockets for his phone but came up empty. His head was pounding from the movement and he felt like he would throw up. Who could have taken him home? Carlos was at the party but he had also been in Carlos’s house. Unless he went out to fuck someone(highly unlikely((actually impossible))) then he had no clue where he was.

What the hell happened?

Before he could freak out about the fact he could have lost his virginity to some random person, someone spoke.

“You’re awake.” Max turned his head, blinking out the dots in his vision. It was Charles. Max’s cheeks flushed, when did he get to Charles place? The monegasque had a loose hoodie and sweatpants on, black glasses bridged his nose and his hair was tussled from sleep.

Max starred at him for a moment then Charles eyes widened. His expression must have said enough because the next words from Charles mouth nearly killed him. “Do you not remember anything from last night?”

Max opened his mouth but nothing came out. He closed it, then opened it again, still he had no words. Charles face turned beat red, he covered his mouth. “Oh God.”

Max stood up, “What happened? How did I get here?”

Charles was silent for a moment before he took his hand away from his mouth and spoke in a near whisper. “You really don’t remember anything from last night?”

Max was starting to freak out. He tried to make a joke. “I really hope I didn’t sell my virginity on the black market or something.”

Charles mouth dropped open. Max leaned backwards the same time icy panic filled his body. “What the hell did I do? Please tell me I didn’t sell myself on the black market.”

Charles shook his head quickly. “Nothing like that, I swear. It’s just, Um, I don’t really know how to say this.”

Max sat down on the couch and hung his head. “Fuck, I don’t even know if I want to know.”

Charles footsteps were near silent as he crossed the room. “You kissed me last night.”

Coldness filled his body and made him freeze. He did WHAT? The dutchman finally reacted, head shooting up. “What!”

Charles tried to smile but it was more of a grimace. He sat down on the couch next to max. Their thighs were pressed together. “Well I kissed you back but, uh, but we kind of-“

“I slept with you!” Max screeched. Of all people he had lost his virginity to Charles Leclerc. He wasn’t mad, but more so surprised.

“No, no, no, you wanted to, I told you no. I didn’t want to take advantage of you when you were drunk.” Max pressed his palms to his eyes. This conversation couldn’t have been any worse. Max would admit he was a messy drunk but this, this was on a whole other level.

“Did I say anything? I always say shit when I’m drunk.” Max grimaced as he waited for Charles to spill whatever secrets or other unholy actions he tried to do the night before.

“No,” Max breathed a sigh of relief. “Only that you liked me, and wanted to kiss me.”

“Oh my-“ Max closed his eyes. He might as well share his entire life story with Charles at this point.

“Its okay.” Charles reassured. “I didn’t think you liked me back. I mean I wanted to tell you for years but I thought you hated my guts-“

“You like me?” Max interrupted. The dutchman’s eyes were filled with an emotion Charles couldn’t place.

“I do.” Every negative thought that was running through Max’s head stopped. It’s like Charles flipped a stop switch in his brain. A switch that even Max himself couldn’t stop.

Max smiled a small smile. “I thought you hated me too.”

“I could never hate you.” Charles whispered. The look in his eyes was so honest, so open, so giving, that Max was struggling not to cry. His heart fluttered at the comment. Then a beat of silence passed.

Max threw every warning out the window as he leaned closer to Charles, too close to be friendly. His breath hitched as Charles leaned another inch forward. Their lips were almost touching, yet they weren’t. Charles wouldn’t do this for him. Max had too. Charles gave an inch so Max gave a mile.

“Its okay.” Charles whispered. “You can have this.”

Max heart broke. He leaned forward capturing Charles lips in his own. All Max could think was how could he have forgotten this? This was all he wanted for the longest time, how could Max not remember when it happened?

Charles sighed into the kiss and it caused Max’s heart to stutter, missing a beat. Had Charles really wanted this as well? How had neither of them taken the first step? Max supposes they both were too afraid. Now Max knew they both wanted this and he wasn’t afraid of taking this for himself. He wasn’t afraid of letting himself be happy.

Max was still afraid. Not of finally having something to make him happy he was afraid of losing it.

The kiss changed, it became more desperate. Max cupped Charles jaw and kissed him like it was the last time he ever would. His father alway took away the things he loved and told him to focus on racing, how would this be any different? He needed this.

The dutchman learned from an early age to destroy himself so no one else could. It was clear by the tenderness he was receiving from Charles that he had be ruined by his father. He didn’t think he deserved love, he didn’t think he needed it. He pretended his crush on Charles was nothing more than a hopeless thing that would never happen. Now that Charles was kissing him that all flew out the window. This couldn’t be more right. Max realized this is the feeling he had been searching for his entire life.

The two pulled away. Max had lost count of how much time had past. He scanned the clock on the wall.

He was late to training.

“Shit. I have to go. Im late for training.” Max stood up. Charles face was puffy and his eyes had a glint in them. Max supposes he looked the same but now was not the time to be worrying about his appearance.

“Your phone is on the side table by the door. Will you come back after the race tomorrow?”

Max smiled, “Of course. Good luck tomorrow, see you then.”

-

Charles tried his hardest while racing, he always did. He finished P4, a respectable place considering how he had been scoring lately. Max had a bad race, for him at least. He finished P3. Charles could tell Red-Bull was mad as he got out of his car. Max was long gone. Lando had raced excellent and finished P1. Lewis had finished P2, his team had given him the wrong tyres which had costed him the win.

Charles walked back into his dressing room. Frederic was waiting.

“Good race. It would have been even better with Red-Bulls secrets. How close are you?” He didn’t even wait for Charles to sit down. Charles ignored him until he sat down in the middle of the room.

“Close.”

“Its been three days.” Frederic stated.

“I said I’m close. Do you want the secrets or not? This isn’t some movie and I’m not some plot-armored character.”

“Let me remind you Charles. Your career is on the line. Do as I say and you will be the best driver in Formula one. Don’t do as I say and your career will be over in a flash of an eye.”

It was then that the toilet in the bathroom flushed.

Charles and Frederic froze. No one said anything. The monegasque’s life flashed before his eyes in that moment.

Carlos walked out of the bathroom, humming to himself. He paused when he saw Charles then a guilty expression crossed his face. “Sorry Charlie, your bathroom was closer.”

He then saw Frederic. “Oh, hey Fred.”

He didn’t hear anything. Charles tried to tell himself. Then he noticed he had an earbud in his ear. Carlos tracked his movement. “Listen before you say it’s weird that I wear earbuds to shit-“

He didn’t hear anything. Charles sagged in relief.

“Its not weird.” The monegasque interrupted him. “I do it too.”

Carlos closed his mouth. “Oh, alright then, I didn’t expect that from you.”

The other Ferrari driver shook his head, most likely trying to gather his thoughts from the weirdness of the conversation, then spoke again. “Good job on P4 I’m going to take a nap. I’ll talk to you later, Frederic.”

Then Carlos was gone. Frederic hadn’t moved from his spot.

“You idiot!” Charles hissed grabbing his head in his hands. “Do you want to get caught!”

“I thought you didn’t want to do this.” Was Frederic’s only reply to the situation.

“I don’t want to go to fucking jail either. That was too close.”

Frederic shook his head. “Its fine. You have two days.”

Then like Carlos, Frederic was gone.

He had two days. That was it. Two days to gain Red-Bulls secrets. Charles was going to do it in one.

Charles went to look for Max. He would console the dutchman, let him know he was there for him. In another twisted fucked way Charles would let Max know he was sorry for hurting him.

Charles was hurting the one person who had already been hurt so many times.

He pushed the thought from his head and walked down the hallway. Max had to be in his dressing room.

Charles had to be quiet, he wasn’t supposed to be in Red-Bulls quarters. It wasn’t permitted, no matter how close two drivers were from opposite teams they could only meet in the paddock.

Charles passed no one in the hallway. Not one person was there. It was like the entire Red-Bull team had evacuated. For or from what, Charles didn’t want to know.

Unknowingly, he would soon be forced to.

Charles could hear a yelling in the distance. It was muffled, like it was through the walls. He walked towards the noise.

“You are a failure! Thats all you’ll ever be!” Charles knew that voice. It was one of the most hated people in all of Formula one.

Jos Verstappen.

Charles kept walking. The farther he walked the yelling became louder, clearer.

“You raced horribly! It’s all your fault!” Charles peered around the corner. Jos Verstappen was yelling into Max’s face. Max was sitting in a chair, not moving, allowing his father to scream in his face. He didn’t even look affected. It looked like he wasn’t even fully there. Then Jos smacked his head to the side. Charles flinched backwards like he was the one who was hit.

“You aren’t even listening to me boy!”

“I am.” Max’s replied.

Jos smacked his head again. “Then tell me why you raced so bad! This better be good.”

“I didn’t feel confident today.” Charles was straining to hear Max’s voice. He sounded small, like he was a child again. It was like he had been caught putting his hand in the cookie jar and was now getting scolded.

“Why not!”

“I just didn’t.” Max seemed to struggle for an answer which made Jos even more angry.

“What did I tell you? You are the best because you believe you are the best. When you don’t, you lose.” Jos leaned away from Max and Charles saw Max’s shoulders slump slightly.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better next race.”

“I don’t want your fucking apologies. You will win the next race. You better prepare. It is a week from now.” Jos then stood up and stormed in the opposite direction. Max sat there for a moment then hung his head. He pressed his palms to his eyes.

Charles didn’t know what to do.

This wasn’t part of the plan yet he couldn’t move.

“Charles, I know you’re over there.” Max called out. “I heard you.” Charles walked to Max who looked at him with tired eyes.

“Im sorry you had to hear that.” The dutchman whispered.

“Are you okay?” This wasn’t fake Charles talking anymore. He needed to know if Max was okay. The dutchman’s eyes were glossed over and he looked like he was trying to keep his emotions at bay.

“Yeah I’m good. That wasn’t one of the bad ones.” Charles heart broke. Without trying to put on an act he leaned down infront of Max and cupped his jaw.

“Im so sorry.” In that moment Charles was apologizing for what he had done and what he was planning to do.

Max hung his head again. “Can we go to your place? I want to take my mind off this.”

Charles spoke without any hesitation. “Yes.”

Chapter Text

Charles didn’t want to do this, but he knew he had too.

Max had leaned against him the whole ride back to his place. Charles let him tuck his face in the collar of his shirt and tried to ignore the guilty feeling weighing him down. What he was about to do was unforgivable.

As soon as the two were out of the car, Charles led him to the door. Once Max was in his apartment the dutchman didn’t seem to know what to do. He walked around the room for a few moments scanning the pictures on the walls. Charles watched him with a small smile on his face.

Then Max turned to him. “Do you have any vodka?”

Charles smiled, “Let me grab it.”
Max followed him as he walked into the kitchen and peered over his shoulder to look into his alcohol cabinet. Charles grabbed two glasses and a bottle of vodka.

“Grab anything you want.” He told Max walking into the living room. Max followed behind him two bottles in his hands. The two sat back on the couch, there thighs pressed against each others.

“Do you mind if I drink?” Max questioned. “I didn’t mean to just take all your alcohol-“

“Don’t worry about it.” Charles replied. “I think alcohol is what we both need right now.”

Max nodded then opened one of the bottles he brought in. It was an expensive kind of wine and one that Charles probably never would have drank by himself. Charles watched as Max’s shoulders relaxed after the first glass, his smile grew after the third, and his tongue loosened after the sixth. Charles drank as well, not as much as Max, but enough to make it seem as he wasn’t trying to get the dutchman drunk. He was feeling tipsy after his second glass.

“You know I like you, right?” Max slurred and looked at Charles through half lidded eyes. He looked like he was one minute from falling apart.

That would make everything easier.

“Yeah, remember that I like you too.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Max smiled a dopey smile then poured himself another glass. “We should play a game.”

Charles leaned back into the couch, observing Max. “What game?”

Max giggled to himself. “We each get to ask a question or make the other do something.”

Charles attention snapped to Max. Was he serious? Max laughed at the expression he let frame his face. “You go first!”

“I could ask you anything?” Charles questioned. Max slumped forward onto Charles shoulder. It really couldn’t be this easy, could it?

“Yes! Anything! I swear it!” Charles wrapped his arm around Max and the dutchman slumped into the warmth.

“Then Max Verstappen, there is one question I have wanted to ask you since I have met you.” Charles swallowed thickly.

“What is that question? How I am so handsome? Or how I was so lucky to score someone like you.”

“I wanted-“ He couldn’t. Charles couldn’t continue. This was killing him.

“What?” Max whispered. “I’ll answer anything.”

“I know you will.” Charles looked down at Max who was watching him quietly. Max had noticed his tone and the way his shoulders tensed.

“You can say it.” Max murmured. “Say what you wanted to say.”

Charles froze. Max was looking at him with whatever sobriety he had left. He couldn’t do this, he wouldn’t, not now.

“I wanted to know why your dad is the way he is.” Charles said instead and regretted the question immediately. It was almost as cruel as taking Red-Bulls secrets. Max inhaled sharply and his eyes cleared slightly.

“He wanted me to be the best. I have to be the best.” Charles stiffened from the chilling words. He was more surprised the dutchman was telling him. “I have to be the best because then my dad is proud of me.”

“I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m sorry.”

“I told you that you could ask me anything. I meant it”

“Still, it was insensitive.” Charles heart fluttered when Max spoke.

“Charles I would give you anything if you asked me. Anything.”

Tension grew in the room as Charles looked down at Max. There was a beat of unsureness then the two were kissing. Charles didn’t know if he started it or not, it was messy and hot, and made his pants tighten.

“I want you to sleep with me, that’s what I want from this game.” Max voice was steady and he had pulled away to look in Charles eyes. Charles didn’t even hesitate to answer yes. The line between revenge and love was blurred, so much that he didn’t know what he wanted anymore. As the monegasque kissed down Max’s neck he had to remind himself to not get attached, that this wasn’t permeant, and that Max would hate him soon.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Max whispered. Charles quieted his painful words by kissing him once more. Max was laying on his back and Charles was onto of him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Charles questioned. The dutchman was a mess and he didn’t need to sleep with him.

“Yes.” Max looked alert, awake, sober despite the many drinks he had. Charles scanned his face for a moment and then he started. He had to do this, as an apology for what he was about to do. He pulled off Max’s shirt, then his own. He took his time, kissing and biting down the dutchman’s body, enjoying every sound he made. He would enjoy this because tomorrow he would be gone.

Then he pulled Max’s pants off, and his own. He didn’t stop into they both finished. Max was gasping and clawing at his back, and he was panting into Max’s mouth soon after.

Max told him everything then. Too blissed out to realize what was happening. Charles listened as Max told him every secret about Red-Bull, and everything he did to win a race.

Then when Max passed out on his chest, Charles pulled out his phone and texted it all too Frederic.

Every last word.

Chapter Text

Charles did it in four days.

He stole the secrets of Red-Bull, fell in love with Max Verstappen, and took everything from him. The guilt made him sick to his stomach, Charles wasn’t sure when his rival became more. He ruined everything, and it was all to be the best, to beat Max.

The monegasque awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. He had somehow drifted off after he texted Frederic. He should have left, he needed to leave before Max woke up. Charles pulled his phone out of his pants pocket that was ever so gracefully thrown on the floor. It was Frederic. He glanced at Max’s sleeping form, then answered. He put his phone on speaker.

“Hello?” Charles said groggily, sleep still thick in his voice.

“Are you there now?” Frederic was talking quickly, “If so, leave.”

“Im leaving now. Why are you calling me?” Charles untangled himself from Max and dressed quickly. He watched Max’s for a moment and realized he had never seen the dutchman so at peace.

“You will jeopardize this whole thing if you stay! Don’t go catching feelings, this was all for the secrets, not for some pity fling.” Frederic’s voice brought him back to reality. It caused a surge of anger to fill him.

Charles eyes narrowed, “You knew about his father, didn’t you? And you still asked me to take everything from him. Frederic, he already had nothing. For fucks sake, me being here gave him something!”

The line went silent, then Frederics voice was at a whisper. “Don’t tell me you caught feelings for the kid? Let me remind you, you are on a contract here-“

“A illegal contract that you forged my signature on.” Charles interrupted, voice calm. He scanned his apartment, the apartment he sold and would be in for the last time.

“You did what it took to stay in Formula one. Don’t make me the villain. I am trying to make you a world champion.” Frederic voice was steady on the line. Charles pressed his mouth in a thin line, trying to keep his anger at bay. Frederic couldn’t really think this was right. He was a monster for making Charles do this. The monegasque looked over at Max’s sleeping form again, only to find him starring back, betrayal in his eyes. Charles phone fell from his hands making a loud bang agains the floor. Frederics voice rose into a panic.

“Charles! Charles! What was that? Answer me!”

“Max.” Charles whispered. The dutchman only shook his head, tears filling his eyes.

“It was all fake?” He questioned. “All of it?”

Charles expression said enough. Max grabbed his clothes from the floor. Silence filled the room as he got dressed. Charles didn’t know what to say. He was tired of lying. Then Max spoke, breaking Charles heart.

“I thought I finally had something, had someone. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Then Max was gone. Charles stood in silence until Frederics voice on the phone brought him back into reality.

“Be ready for the race next week. You will be a world champion, Charles Leclerc.”

Frederic hung up.

-

Charles won the next race.

Not from beating Max, Max didn’t race at all. With the secrets of Red-Bull Charles should have felt happy, all he could feel was disappointment. Stone cold disappointment, and worry. Worry about what Max was doing, what he was feeling. The dutchman had blocked his number, Charles had no way of contacting him.

Ferrari was overjoyed at his win, the fans even more so. He faked a smile on the podium, Lando was to his left, Checo was to his right. They both congratulated him multiple times, he could only nod back, a forced smile on his face. The racing community was bewildered when Max didn’t race. His father, Jos, announced he had sprained his wrist and should be back in the next race. Charles feared Jos had sprained Max’s wrist, not some ‘accident’.

The monegasque went straight to his dressing room after he the podium. Frederic was there, waiting.

“Good race. The challenge next week will be beating Max.”

“Fuck you.” Charles hissed. “You ruined his life!”

“No, Charles, you did that yourself. I merely watched, supervised in a way. If that’s what you want to call it. You were the one who ruined former champion, Max Verstappen’s life.”

Charles didn’t have a response to that, mostly because it was true. He had taken everyone from Max, he had ruined his life. Now Max would hate him forever. Charles realized victory felt like cheating from what he had done.

“You need to realize some people are disposable, Max Verstappen is one of them and so are you.” Frederic had taken a few steps towards him. “You are replaceable. Before you get too mouthy I want you to remember that. I could easily kick you off this team, I could easily make Carlos a champion instead of you. I gave you a chance, be thankful and stop questioning me. I know what I’m doing.”

Charles shook his head and sneered, “This is going to backfire and all the blame is going to you.”

“Get out before I do something I regret Charles.”

The monegasque left. He walked around the track and sat in a shady spot. He deserved to be kicked off Ferrari. He wanted it at this point.

“He’s an asshole.” A voice said. Charles turned. It was Carlos. He must have seen the confused expression on his face because he spoke again.

“Frederic is an asshole.”

Charles bit his lip and nodded, not looking at Carlos, but the track he had just raced on. The track he had won on.

“You know I heard you that day.”

“I do.” Charles whispered. It was stupid to believe otherwise. Carlos was too much of a Ferrari fan to say anything.

“I don’t blame you for what you did. You did what you had to do to stay here. It was fucked though.”

Charles felt tears fill his eyes and let them drop. “I know.”

“You can lie about what happened and pretend it didn’t, or you can expose Frederic with my help.”

Charles turned to Carlos who had a small, gentle smile on his face.

“Why don’t you hate me?” He whispered, voice breaking.

“Frederic manipulated you Charles and made you do something very wrong. That doesn’t take the blame from you, but you were not entirely at fault.”

“I’m going to quit.” Charles whispered.

“Then you best bet we are taking Frederic down with you.”

Charles turned to Carlos who had a determined expression on his face.

“I thought you loved Ferrari.” He couldn’t believe this, Carlos being willing to risk his spot in F1 for him.

“I do. I hate Frederic.”

“Then let’s get started.” The monegasque smiled.

Chapter Text

Charles didn’t know if Max was going to be racing. A week had passed and his injury should have healed. Jos had confirmed that the Dutchman was racing but as Charles sat in his car he couldn’t find him in the sea of people.

Carlos and him had formed a plan. Charles was going to quit after this race. Carlos was going to take Frederick down, video the whole thing without him knowing.

The race started in ten minutes and Charles took a moment to fully look at his car. It would be the last time he was in it, most likely for ever. If everything went to plan. Charles looked to his left at Carlos, who sent him a small smile.

He wouldn’t be using Red-Bulls secrets today, he would be using his own.

One last time.

Charles took a deep breath and the voice on the radio crackled on. “A win is expected today Charles.”

Charles didn’t respond.

“Charles?” Frederic’s voice questioned. “Charles, do you copy?”

“Copy.” Charles finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Good. Charles this is a very—“ Fredericks voice drifted off to the back of his mind as he saw Max walk out to his car. He held himself high but Charles could tell he was exhausted by the way he lowered himself into his car. “Charles?”

“Sorry.” The monegasque replied.

“What is happening with you? You aren’t focused.”

“I am fine. I was thinking about Arthur, that’s all.” Charles voice was firm and Frederic went silent on the other end.

“The race starts in ten minutes. Be ready.” Then the radio went dead.

Charles would be ready. To take down Frederic.

For Max.

-

Charles raced like he never had before. He pushed himself like he never had before.

He let Max lead for half the race then overtook him. Charles had to do this. He had to win and take down Frederic.

Then, the dutchman proceeded to DNF after miscalculating a turn. Sending him flying off the track and upside down into a wall.

Charles heart dropped and he asked his team if Max was okay.

They didn’t respond. The race stopped. Charles was in P1.

Nothing about the race mattered if Max was hurt. None of it. Charles didn’t think it could get any worse until an ambulance showed up.

They took Max away in a stretcher. Panic filled his body but he knew he couldn’t react.

Max was in a stretcher.

Charles could barely breathe and his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Fuck. Max was hurt, hurt badly.

He could be dead. He knew his eyes were wide with fear when a camera panned to him.

“Max was conscious when they pulled him out of the car.” A engineer spoke into his radio. Charles let his panic still slightly.

“Fuck. It was a bad crash.” He whispered. The radio on the other end clicked but no one spoke. He hung his head and wiped at his eyes, trying to ignore the blooming emotions he was feeling.

He needed to win this race.

-

Charles won.

Ferrari was ecstatic as he got out of his car but he could only muster a small smile.

Carlos ran up to him and hugged him tightly. “After podium. Your dressing room.”

Charles pulled back and smiled, sending him a direct nod, that the cameras couldn’t have picked up. He was going to end this, once and for all. Frederic was no longer going to be Ferrari’s manager and Charles was no longer going to be in F1.

It would end. Today. After the podium.

Carlos had scored P3, Checo had scored P2. He tried to take in the podium as much as he could, knowing it would be his last. The champagne was great, and as Carlos wrapped an arm around him they had a chance to walk away.

“How is Max?” He asked as they walked into Charles dressing room.

“No response has been given on his state other than he hasn’t sustained any life treating injuries.”

“Shit.” Charles sighed. “I really hope he is okay.”

Carlos grabbed the monegasque’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “He’ll pull through. He always does.”

Charles smiled.

As the two entered the dressing room Frederic was standing, waiting. His eyes narrowed as he saw Carlos.

“I told him.” Charles said. A beat of silence passed then Frederic was towering over him, hands fisted in his shirt.

“You are going to jeopardize this whole thing! You fucking idiot—”

“Back the fuck away.” Carlos snarled, pushing Frederic away from him. Frederic turned to Carlos but froze when he saw his angry expression.

“Frederic.” Charles spoke. “Carlos knew since the beginning. He isn’t going to ruin anything.”

Frederic ran a hand through his hair. “You say anything and you’re done, off the team.”

“He will forge your signature on a contract like he did to me, so look out.” Charles muttered.

“Don’t forget what I said to you boy, make one wrong more, or tell someone and you are off the team. I will give Carlos Red-Bulls secrets instead of you.”

Charles hung his head and nodded.

“What the hell did you make him do?” Carlos spit out at Frederic.

Frederic didn’t back down. “I made him do what he had to do to win. I made him do what he had to do to become a champion.”

“You made me manipulate Max! You forced me to steal Red-Bulls secrets!” Charles snapped, raising his head to stare into Frederic’s eyes. “You made me ruin his life and you threatened to kick me out of Formula one if I didn’t do it!”

“Yet you did do it.” Frederic replied, smirk filling his face. “You chose to ruin his life, it’s not my fault you caught feelings.”

Charles bit his lip at that. It was his fault, he did ruin Max’s life, his career. He looked over to Carlos who looked pissed.

“You’re right.” Charles whispered. “I fucking quit. I’m done. Give those secrets to Carlos, I don’t care. I never fucking needed them.”

With that Charles left his entire life behind him.

-

The news came the next day. A headline was blowing up about him and Ferrari. Carlos had sent the video to everyone. Practically the entire world had seen it. Frederic was fired and the fans were devastated Charles had left.

His phone buzzed non stop, which made him power it off and try to do anything other than look at social media.

He managed to lay in his bed, staring at the wall for an hour before a knock sounded at his apartment door. Charles tried to ignore it but got up after the person knocked again.

He rubbed his eyes and opened the door.

It was Max.

“Max?” He whispered. The dutchman looked healthy. No bags were under his eyes, he had a glow to his skin. He looked good. “What— What are you doing here?”

“I saw the video.” The dutchman seemed unsure, nervous almost. “Can I come in?”

Charles stepped away from the door and Max entered his apartment.

“What are you doing here, I thought you were at the hospital?” Charles asked as he closed his door.

“I just got discharged.”

Silence filled the room and then the both of them spoke at the same time.

“Max—“

“Charles—“

Both froze. Then Max was the first to speak.

“Charles—“ He paused and took a shaky breath. “When I woke up that day— I—I was furious,”

Charles heart ached. He watched the dutchman try and figure out what to say next. Max’s jaw flexed then he spoke again.

“I was so mad because I thought I finally had someone who cared for me. I thought you did this, because you wanted to win. I didn’t— I didn’t think Frederic threatened you.” Max eyebrows furrowed. He went quiet again. Charles didn’t push him to speak. He waited, watched him. “I just wanted to tell you, what you did was shitty, you broke my fucking heart. It’s just…You aren’t entirely at blame. I just…I don’t know how to feel anymore.”

“Max—“ Charles voice broke. “I’m sorry. And I know that doesn’t fix anything.”
The monegasque felt the tears fill his eyes and he held them back. “You need to know the truth, the full truth.”

Max watched him, face betraying nothing. Charles took it as his sign to continue. He wiped at his eyes then began.

“Frederic had forged my signature on a contract. A contract that would kick me off the team if I didn’t do as he said. I—I wish I could say I didn’t want to, but the desire to win was stronger then the guilt. So, I did as Frederic said. I had to fall in love with you. I just didn’t think I actually would. I was so jealous of you, for winning all the time. I would have done anything it took to be World Champion, even when I started gaining feelings for you.”

Charles bit his lip. Max’s eyes were filled with an emotion he couldn’t place.

“It all changed after I saw you with your dad. I didn’t want to hurt you more than the world already had. I realized, I was the only good thing you had in your life. Frederic knew I began to care about you so threatened me again, and I was too scared to back down. It wasn’t until I won that I realized I didn’t want it without you, that I didn’t want to be a cheater. So Carlos and I formed a plan. He was going to take Ferrari down with me. I quit and he managed to film my conversation with Frederic.”

Charles closed his eyes. “So I left and Carlos took Ferrari down.”

Max watched him for a few seconds before nodding. He seemed to be deciding something, then he looked at Charles lips, then his eyes.

“I need time. Charles, you were the best person to ever come into my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I can give you that.” Charles whispered. “I’ll give you anything.”

Max shook his head. “I don’t want you to give me anything. Charles, I want you to be you. I don’t want you to think you owe me something. You fucked up, and you are trying to fix what you did, but don’t ever think you owe me anything.”

“Okay.”

Max then turned to the door, “I’ll talk to you again Charles. It may be weeks, it may be months, but as long as you are here, I will talk to you again.”

Charles smiled. “I’ll wait for you. No matter how long it takes.”

Max walked out the door. He didn’t look back.

Charles watched him go.

His heart ached but the monegasque knew he had to wait. Max would come to him when he was ready.

He knew their story wasn’t over.

What he didn’t know was that the future would be kind to the two. The past wouldn’t, it never was meant to be. While the present, the now. It would be trying as hard as it could to pull the two back together.

Charles finally turned his phone on and the first message he saw was from Carlos.

‘Red Bull want to sign you’