Work Text:
“Amelie!” Max called from the kitchen. He clicked the lid down onto the small lunchbox in his hands, a few small cookies and chocolates laying inside. He packed it neatly into the small backpack, fitting it alongside two adorably tiny pink sweatshirts. “Hurry up, A.”
Soon enough he heard a tiny patter of feet echo against the laminate flooring of the hallway, the kitchen door soon being pushed open. He felt a pressure against his leg, and looked down to see his daughter hugging it, cheekily smiling up at him.
She had beautiful brown hair, dark and thick. It rested just below her shoulders, as it usually did when she stayed with Max over the long weekend. She’d often come home from Charles’ with two beautiful French plaits in her hair, the Monegasque somehow being incredibly skilled at the art of hairstyling besides growing up with two brothers who’s hair never fell lower than their ears, but that was never the case with Max. Max only knew how to wash and brush it, and he allowed Charles to experiment with the more technical aspects.
Her green eyes met his, and he couldn’t help but grin back.
“Are you ready to go and see daddy?” He asked, placing a hand on top of her head and stroking his thumb through it gently. She leaned in closer.
“Yes!” She called out, voice as cheeky as ever.
“Are you taking bunny?”
“Mhm.” She agreed, holding the long and rather lanky white bunny up in the proudly to show Max. He didn’t know why he’d asked, she never went anywhere without her bunny, but she must have been dragging it behind her as he hadn’t initially been able to see it.
“Good.” He smiled, patting her head gently before lifting the bag off the kitchen counter. It was a light purple colour, the zip white with a baby pink butterfly on the back. “Is papa carrying your bag, or are you?”
“Papa, please.” She requested, sweetly.
“Of course.” How could he possibly deny her of anything?
He took her tiny hand into his own, leading her carefully out of the room. They made their way down the few stairs to the front door, Amélie’s backpack slung around Max’s right shoulder. He locked the door behind the pair of them, making sure his daughter held tightly onto his hand as they crossed the drive to reach the side of the car that her carseat was fastened into.
The sun was setting behind the trees further down the road. It was late on Monday evening, and Charles had texted about an hour ago saying that he had just arrived back into Monte Carlo, and Max was free to drop Amélie off in the next hour.
It was routine. Charles looked after Amélie from Monday evening to Wednesday evening and Max would look after her from Wednesday evening to Monday evening whenever it was race week. During the summer she spent one week with Max, the next with Charles. It was a little complicated, sure, but it had worked for the last three years and it would surely work for the next fifteen.
It didn’t matter that Max wished it wasn’t the case, wished that he, Charles and Amélie could spend all the time Charles had off the race track together as a family. That wasn’t possible, it never had been, and Max had gotten comfortable with the picking up and dropping off over time, even if it had hurt in the beginning.
Max lifted his daughter up into her car seat, strapping her in and closing the door. He threw himself into the drivers seat, closing the door and starting the engine. Looking through the mirror, he smiled at the sight of his daughter playing sweetly with her bunny. She had began yapping away at it, sweet nonsense exiting her mouth in random intervals.
He turned away, loaded up his Spotify and began to drive to Charles’ house. His throat began to feel dry as he tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel.
-*-
Charles didn’t live that far away. In all of the fifteen years he had known the man, he’d never lived too far away. Max and his family had moved to Monte Carlo in 2012 to further his career in carting, hoping to one day hold a seat in Formula One. Even back then Charles and his family had only lived at the other end of the city, barely a fifteen minute drive away.
Now he lived a little further away, a twenty minute drive. Max would prefer not to have to do the drive, to be able to have Amélie all the time, to have Charles and Amélie all the time, but it simply wasn’t possible. He’d let go of the idea that it could be three years ago.
Max and Charles had never actually dated. Amélie had been the result of excitement following the November of the 2024 season. Not only had the grid been throwing a party to announce Max’ retirement, but they had also been celebrating Charles winning his first world championship. There had been alcohol, lots of it, and that combined with Max’ deep, repressed love for Charles meant that when the Monegasque came onto him, he crumbled. They spent the weekend together, bundled up inbetween the sheets with Max inside of Charles for most of it.
Max had thought the weekend would lead to more. He thought Charles maybe loved him back, thought they could be something. But he’d passed it off as two friends getting carried away, a drunken mistake of a weekend. Max had tried not to show just how much those words had hurt him, putting a faux face on as he pretended to agree with him. He nodded, threw around a few jokes to further hide his upset and thrown on his clothes in the bathroom. He’d gotten home and cried for what felt like days.
When Charles had told him that he was pregnant, Max was sure he was going to faint. They had been careful, or so Max thought. Thinking back he couldn’t actually remember. If he was honest in the few short weeks after it had happened he had tried his hardest to forget, the memories hurting too much, and the finer details had disappeared into the back of his mind somewhere, locked away.
It was no surprise that at first he was scared. He couldn’t imagine himself as a father, the thought alien to him. He’d never really experienced what having a good father was like, and supposed that was one of the reasons why.
He soon began to wonder what the press would think, then what his parents would think. It was a few days of constant worry, biting his nails and tuning out the television as he waited for Charles to call around again.
When Charles had sat beside him and told him that he had decided wanted to keep it, suddenly nothing else mattered other than Charles and their baby. For the first time in weeks, warmth had ran through Max once again. A baby- his and Charles’ baby…
He’d grown excited, even if his heart still hurt deep down.
Max had known that their baby would be perfect, but when he had first laid eyes on her, he soon realised that perfect was an understatement. She was just beautiful, Charles’ eyes and button nose and Max’ lips and cheeks. She was the most beautiful combination of the two of them, and Max hadn’t stopped boasting about her ever since.
Max turned the car onto the familiar street, pulling up on the pavement beside Charles’ house. He hopped out of the car, opening Amélie’s door and grabbing both her and the bag he had placed beside her. He swung it back over his shoulder, holding Amélie against his waist as he elbowed the door shut.
He opened the small white gate, closing it carefully behind him and approaching the front step. Placing Amélie on the ground, he braced himself. He took a silent deep breath and knocked, the wood feeling icy cold beneath his knuckles.
Seeing Charles was always something Max both looked forward to and grew terribly anxious over. In his head, he supposed he was still the same lovesick teenager he had always been when it came to the man. Perhaps he always will be, he certainly didn’t see himself falling out of love with him any time soon.
It didn’t matter that Charles had hurt him, made Max believe he felt somewhat the same when he didn’t. He didn’t know about Max’s feelings, and Max certainly was not going to tell him. It was a secret he would take to the grave if necessary. Telling him would only ruin what they had, and Max was comfortable with what they had.
Max let the breath he had been holding out as the door swung open, his heartbeat quickening at the sight of the Monegasque. He looked shattered, eyes a little red around the corners and slightly bloodshot, his posture weak and drained. Nevertheless his face still lit up at the sight of his little girl. He held his arms open, crouching down and allowing her to run into them.
“Amélie!” He called out, face beaming with excitement and adoration. He wrapped his arms around her as soon as she reached him. The way he said their daughter’s name had always been like music to Max’ ears. It had been Charles who had suggested the name, Max instantly agreeing upon hearing the word roll so beautifully from his tongue. He could sit and listen to Charles speak French for hours, fully aware there wouldn’t be a single moment when he got bored of it.
“Daddy!” She called back.
“Mon bébé…” He sighed happily, closing his eyes and resting his head in the crook of her neck. “I have missed you, Amy.”
She held him tighter, and his heartfelt smile only widened.
Max suddenly felt like an intruder, stood on the doorstep watching the scene play out. The last weekend had been particularly difficult for Charles, Max knew, he’d been following it on his phone and the radio all weekend. He always did. Charles was in the lead when his car started smoking. He tried to pull through, but in the end had to retire. He’d been in the garage almost all evening trying to fix whatever was up.
The truth was what he needed in that moment was his daughter, and Max felt content in the fact that even if he could not directly help Charles himself, he was partly responsible for someone who could.
“I- uh…” He spoke up, hiding his mouth with the same fist that was gripped onto Amélie’s bag. Charles looked up in an instant, arms still wrapped around their daughter. He smiled at the sight of Max, his dimples deepening and teeth showing a little. Max felt a rush of heat flow through him. “I have her backpack. It has her sweatshirts inside, as well as some snacks and a few toys at the bottom…”
Charles’ smile grew wider as he rose to his feet, holding their daughter comfortably against his waist.
“Thank you.” He smiled, gently combing his hands through Amélie’s hair. “And how are you, Maxy?”
Max tried not to let the way the nickname effected him show. At the simple word a shiver had ran through his spine, his hands tingling and breath catching in his throat.
“Good.” He nodded, smiling a little. Charles observed him. “You?”
“It has been a rough week.” He admitted, looking to the ground a little. Amélie rested her head in his collarbone. “But all is better now that my little girl is in my arms.” He looked back to her, a fondness in his eyes that warmed Max’s heart.
His smile grew wider at the sight. He imagined capturing this moment, getting it printed out onto copy paper and placing it inside a photo album. It wouldn’t be alone, others would surround it. The first image that came to mind was from the day Charles had her, the moment the Monegasque had first looked down at her, an overwhelming smile on his face and tears of happiness pooling his eyes. Max remembered it like it was yesterday, sometimes he couldn’t believe it wasn’t. He for sure would have that picture inside the album, too.
“I am glad.” Max entertained, locking eyes with the man. He smiled up at him, and Max wanted to slap himself for being so foolishly in love that even at receiving the smallest smile from Charles he practically fell to his knees.
Charles reached out for the backpack, and Max tore his eyes away, looking down and watching as he took it from him. Their hands brushed, fingers touching ever so slightly as Max was relieved of the object. He tried not to let his breath hitch, instead clearing his throat and sending a forced smile Charles way. Charles swallowed deeply.
“I will see you on Wednesday.” He spoke, totally normally, to which Charles replied with a simple smile and a small nod.
“Yes.” He replied, simply, before gently pulling Amélie’s head away from him and pointing to Max. “Say goodbye to Papa, Amélie.”
“Bye bye, Papa.” She reached her arms out, and Max hugged her close, closing his eyes and laying a sweet kiss on top of her head.
“Goodbye, sweet.” He spoke as he pulled away, hands falling to his sides.
With a final look back to Charles, they both said a quick goodbye to one another. Max swiftly turned on his heels, heading back down the path as Charles shut the door behind him. He heard it click, the sound of the key turning in the lock soon following. Once again the familiar feeling of emptiness took over him.
-*-
The house had felt cold as he walked through the door. There was no reason for it to, what with the weather in Monaco rarely falling bellow 25°C, but he supposed it was loneliness. Supposed it was always loneliness whenever he didn’t have Amélie in the house with him.
Discarding his keys on the breakfast bar, he asked Alexa to play some music, whatever she felt like, and moved over to the refrigerator. Inside lay some vegetable soup Daniel had prepared for him, and he instantly chose that. He didn’t feel like preparing a whole meal, if he was honest he just wanted to lay down in bed and sleep. That’s all he ever really wanted to do.
Time seemed to blend together as he looked aimlessly into the pan, staring and thinking of nothing in particular. The music became like white noise to him, and he only awoke from his momentary bout of disassociation when the timer on his phone had rang out and told him to take the soup off the stove.
Upon placing it into a bowl, he grabbed a spoon and took a seat on the white sofa. Perhaps the wrong colour sofa to own with a child, but Amélie was well behaved enough for the colour to remain clean. He pulled a small glass table over, placing his food on top of it and circling it around with his spoon as he waited for it to cool a little.
A small movement against his leg startled him a little, and he looked down to see Sassy circling his leg. Max smiled a little, wondering if she’d been able to sense his loneliness.
“Up?” He asked her, to which she looked at him in almost confusion and meowed.
He let go of his spoon, patting the cushion beside him in encouragement. She soon got the memo, jumping up and laying down beside him. He stroked through her soft fur, smiling as she nestled her head into his thigh.
He finally began to eat, content with the feeling of company, even if it was only his cat.
-*-
Max remembered the first time he had picked Amélie up from Charles’ house. Daniel had come with him, Max being too scared to do it on his own. He had worried about everything from if the car seat was strapped in properly to what he would do if he was alone and she cried so much for Charles that he couldn’t handle it. They both knew he was worrying just for the sake of worrying, there was nothing to be afraid of, not really, but nevertheless Daniel still came with him for support.
Max and Daniel had entered Charles’ apartment and followed him through into the living space. In the middle of the room stood a wooden Moses basket, white lace draped over it. Inside lay a sleeping newborn Amélie, her arms stretched out above her and her lips peacefully shut. She wore a light pink baby grow with a pastel yellow sun in the middle, and Max’s heart swelled at the sight.
Daniel instantly cooed over her, looking to Charles for permission before carefully reaching into the basket and gently circling her pink cheek with his finger. He babbled to her, and both Charles and Max stood back and let him, thinking how sweet it was.
Charles had a glow to him, one that hadn’t left since Max re-entered the hospital a day later, flowers in hand, watching as he sat up a little in bed. Amélie had been lay comfortably in his arms, Pierre sat close beside him.
Max looked Charles up and down, and for a moment he let his mind run away. He was stood close to Charles, so close that it felt as though he could hear every breath the other man took, and for a second or two, things were normal. How he’d always imagined. He and Charles were stood before their daughter, introducing her to her Godfather for the first time. The last few days had been tough, long nights of late feeds and comforting cuddles, but together they had managed it. They had finally caught up on sleep enough to allow visitors into the house, their house.
It was cruel for his mind to imagine, like holding a bone before a dog when he wasn’t allowed it. Their life wasn’t going to be like that, Max knew, yet when he came back to reality, eyes still locked onto Charles, his stomach ached like he’d been winded.
Charles soon leant down into the basket, mumbling sweetly in French as he took Amélie into his arms. She stirred in her sleep, arms stretching out a little, but once she lay comfortably in his hold she settled down, falling back into a deep sleep. Max took a deep breath, trying to silence the sound as best as he could.
Charles lifted his head up, Max doing the same. Their eyes locked for a moment, the Monegasque sending a soft and sweet smile his way. Max returned it, as best as he could while the terrible pain in his chest remained.
The man cast his eyes downwards and onto Amélie, cautiously taking a step closer. Max too looked back down, holding his arms out and bracing himself. His heart raced and he held his breath as Charles placed the little girl into his arms. He’d held her so many times in the last few days, but every time felt just as special as the other. Their fingers had brushed, ever so slightly, and Amélie hadn’t so much as twitched a finger, remaining soundly asleep.
Max couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Charles’ hands so close to his own, their baby in his arms. For a moment he wondered if he was dreaming, if soon he’d wake up, the once warm feeling in his veins vanishing in an instant, his blood running cold.
He had held onto her so protectively, keeping her close to his chest. He felt warm and contempt, finally holding his baby in his arms again. It had only been two days since the last time, but he’d missed her so much, didn’t know how he’d possibly be able to exist when she grew up and moved away.
After a few seconds, Charles crossed the room. He picked up a small carrier and brought it over. His eyes were casted down to the ground, movements slumped and slow.
They both placed her inside, careful so not to wake her. Her eyes opened a little, but swiftly closed again. Max wondered if she’d grow up with the same blue eyes, if they’d turn out green like Charles’. He didn’t know if that was even possible, had never listened much in biology class, but he sure hoped it was. Charles’ eyes were so beautiful, it was only fair it be passed down.
If quiet breathing had been heard beforehand, as Daniel and Max made their way to the door it had been completely silenced and replaced with nothing more than white noise. Daniel stepped out of the door first, Max following. Charles halted in the doorway, and Max turned back to look at him.
His eyes were locked directly onto Amélie. He tried to hide it by lowering his head, but Max could tell he was close to crying. His eyes had a glassiness to them, twinkling in the rays of sunshine. Max felt his his throat burn.
In that moment he felt cruel, as if he was stealing Amélie away. But this is what Charles had wanted, it was his request that they stay apart, parent alone. If it was up to Max, he’d have had it different. They’d live together, no twenty minute drives every Monday and Wednesday. He’d always be with the two people he loved the most, there’d never be a dull moment. And if there was, it would be resolved almost as soon as it began.
If Charles asked him to stay in that moment, Max would do so in an instant. All it would take was one word.
But Charles remained silent.
The Monegasque took a shaky breath, crouching down infront of the carrier. He reached a gentle finger inside, tracing small circles over her arm before gently thumbing at her small fingers. He looked at her with such love, and no matter how much Max wanted to look away, to stop the upset feeling in his stomach, he couldn’t.
“Goodbye, Amy.” Charles whispered, slowly leaning over and placing a sweet kiss on her forehead. She didn’t so much as stir, deep in sleep. He gave her a small smile, enthused with sadness.
He rose to his feet, and his eyes locked onto Max’ once more. Max stared at him, giving him a look that said all he couldn’t physically voice.
Ask. Say the words and I will stay.
But still, Charles remained quiet.
Max gave a single small nod, looking down to the floor. His heart sank, his own eyes threatening to well up. Perhaps a part of him truly thought that once she had been born Charles would change his mind. Take Max by the hand and pull him inside.
Maybe by the looks and touches, Max thought that deep down Charles was repressing his own desire. Maybe even something more.
He turned, caught Daniel’s sympathetic eye and the pair of them headed wordlessly to the car.
Though Max didn’t look back, he didn’t hear the door shut. He was aware of Charles’ eyes on him as he tightly strapped the carrier into the car, burning into his back. He’d always been aware of it, had known that it was what originally brought the two of them together.
He climbed into the car beside his sleeping daughter, and allowed Daniel to drive away. It was only when they turned the corner that he finally allowed his breath to hitch. Daniel glanced at him through the mirror, but purposefully didn’t say anything until they arrived back at Max’ house.
The whole way home, Max’ eyes were locked onto Amélie. He feared if he thought about anything else, he might break down.
It had been three years, yet Max thought about that day all the time. Still thought about Charles all the time. If he was honest, he wasn’t convinced there would be a time in his life where Charles wouldn’t be on his mind.
He felt like he’d be okay with that.