Archive of Our Own

A week went by before they saw one another again, the time passing by unnecessarily slow in Max’ opinion. He had been so excited to speak to Charles again, to properly speak to him, and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it all week. Things seemed to be looking up for the both of them, Max now seeing hope for their friendship in places where he hadn’t been able to before.

When the day finally came, Lando and Carlos happily looked after Amélie again, allowing Max and Charles to search around potential schools for her to attend on their own. The idea that Amélie was going to school was almost terrifying if he thought about it too hard, but Max tried his best to push his anxieties about it all away, wanting to make sure that Amélie was his priority. He tried to think of how exciting this was going to be for her, a new experience, something for her to enjoy.

Walking around the halls of the handful of schools that Charles had selected forced the pair of them to face up to the fact this was truly happening. Amélie was growing up, getting older. At certain times in the day Max had felt like his eyes may begin to water, scared everything was happening so fast, but he knew he had to keep himself together. He felt stronger with Charles beside him.

They kept reminding each other that it wasn’t like she was moving away, huge masses of relief flowing through them at that thought every time, calming them down. Max didn’t even want to imagine how distraught he’d be when that time came.

She was still here, she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

They finished the ordeal at around 4pm, Max feeling completely and utterly drained. Though intensely focused on the road, one look into Charles’ eyes and Max could see that he felt the same.

Max sat in silence, listening to the quiet hum of the radio as Charles headed in the direction of Lando and Carlos’ house. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, it rarely ever was with Charles, and Max felt content as he stared out of the side window at the busy streets of Monaco.

He couldn’t really believe where he was. Sat in a car next to Charles, after spending the entire day with him, the pair of them going to pick up their daughter together. It was all something that at one point he felt he’d never actually get to experience. He could only imagine the look on his twenty-six year old face if he was to somehow find a way to tell him about this. The disbelief, the shock, the denial. Max smiled at the idea. He wouldn't exactly blame himself for that reaction, this whole situation was truly other worldly.

Charles once again headed down the path to Lando and Carlos’ house, stopping in front of their door and knocking on it with a firm hand. This time the car was parked a little further forward on the road, and Max could see everything. The way Charles slid his hands into the pockets of his grey shorts, tapping his foot as he waited for the door to open. The way a wide smile grew on his once apprehensive face as he saw Amélie again. How he held her tight in his arms when Lando passed her to him.

This time, Max didn’t look away. He smiled as the pair of them walked down the path, hand in hand. Amélie was talking excitedly to the man, to which he was replying with enthusiastic responses. Max thought his heart was in danger of melting at the sight.

Her car door swung open, Charles helping her into her seat.

“Papa!” She called out to him as she noticed him, throwing her arms cutely into the air with excitement. Charles fastened her seatbelt, smiling to himself.

“Hello, baby!” He called back, his grin wide. “Did you have fun with Carlos and Lando?”

“Yes!” She stated, beaming with happiness.

“So good!”

The car door beside him swung open and Charles slid into his seat. Closing it behind him, he turned to face Max. Max instantly looked back. He studied Charles’ face, noticing how nervous he looked all of a sudden. He could almost see the clogs moving in his brain as he thought about whatever was on his mind.

“Do you…” He began, pausing almost instantly. He met Max’ eyes, taking a clear deep breath besides trying to hide it. Soon enough he seemed to find the confidence to speak up again. “How about coming home with us? For dinner?” Charles questioned, a small smile yet still terribly nervous smile settling on his face.

Max genuinely couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

For a moment, Max thought that Charles had asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner.

“Yes.” He nodded, a nervous yet eager laugh falling from his lips. He nodded again, still in slight disbelief.

“Alright.” Charles nodded as well, a smile growing on his own lips. If Max was to overthink it, he was sure there was a hint of relief in the action. The Monegasque turned around, facing their daughter. “That okay, Amy? If Papa comes home for dinner?”

Max watched her face light up, body tense in excitement.

“Yes!” She called out, quickly turning to Max. “Please, Papa!”

At those words, Max felt warmth flow through his veins. It felt like a dream.

“Good.” Charles nodded, turning back to face the steering wheel. Max glanced at him, not missing the smile that remained on his lips.

-*-

The room felt warm as Max followed Charles inside, Amélie tucked tightly against his hip. He glanced around the living room, noticing just how tidy it was. Not a single toy was littered on the carpet, not this time. It looked clean, too clean even, almost as if Charles had cleaned it up especially to have someone around.

He pushed the thought away, knowing it would only cause an unnecessary blush to tint his cheeks.

“You don’t mind pasta, do you?” Charles asked as he flicked the switch for the air con on. Max could sense a slight nervousness in his tone.

“Of course not.” Max shook his head.

“Alright.” He nodded. “I’ll get started on it.” Without saying another word, he turned and headed into the kitchen.

“Papa?” Amélie asked soon after.

“Yes?” Max replied, turning his head around to smile at her.

“Can I show you some of my toys?”

“Of course!” He practically exclaimed, to which she grinned widely.

He placed her on the ground, and she instantly rushed over to her toy box at the other end of the room. Max walked after her, crouching beside her and smiling as he watched her rummage through the box with expertise.

She pulled out a few dolls as well as a few clothes and accessories for them. She placed them neatly on the floor in a specific order before telling Max about every single thing. From the dolls and their personalities to the clothes and which dolls wore which pieces, she didn’t hesitate for a second. Being only almost four years old meant that the majority of her words were unfathomable, but nevertheless Max listened, never wanting to ever miss an opportunity to hear his little girl sound so excited.

Charles popped into the room every now and again to check on them, but mostly focused on dinner. To Max, this felt anything but strange, it felt normal to him somehow. Charles cooking dinner whilst he played with Amélie in the next room. It was a tiny insight into the domestic life Max had never grown up with but had wanted with Charles for as long as he could remember. He never thought it possible before, and maybe perhaps it still wasn’t, but it certainly didn’t seem so entirely out of reach anymore.

Whatever this was, he was enjoying it. He wanted more of this.

Eventually Charles came in to tell them dinner was ready and Max followed behind Amélie as she excitedly toddled over to the kitchen.

He couldn’t imagine how bizarre this was for her. She’d probably never really seen her fathers even properly talk to each other, now they were all eating dinner together? But no matter how crazy she must have been finding this all, her smile didn’t falter once. She was excited, enjoying herself a massive amount. The sight warmed Max’ heart.

The wooden table, that stood against the wall in the kitchen, was neatly laid out with forks and spoons, two plates of pasta and meatballs on either side. Charles was stood in the middle of the kitchen, carrying a smaller plate, the meatballs on it cut up into little pieces. A plastic knife and fork lay on top, all purple and cute-looking.

“Where do you want to sit, Amy?” He asked the little girl who stood proudly next to Max, arm wrapped tightly around his leg. She did that a lot whenever she was close to him and he couldn’t help but find it incredibly cute. “In your high chair, or in a big girl’s chair?”

“Big girl’s chair! Next to Papa!” She called out, voice filled with excitement. Max’ heart ached, Amélie seemed somehow more excited than himself.

“Alright.” He laughed fondly. He crossed the room, placing the small plate down next to the other bigger plate that he must have already decided was Max’. “Here we go.” He turned back to their daughter, picking her up and carefully lifting her onto the chair.

He looked up, catching Max’ gaze. Max didn’t know he’d been watching so intensely until that point. His heart melted when Charles didn’t look away and instead smiled fondly at him.

The Monegasque headed around to the other side of the table, and Max took a seat across from him. Max made himself comfortable, trying to prevent a content smile from resting on his lips. They began to eat, and in turn, so did Amélie.

The pasta was good, certainly nothing five star but neither was his own. Back when Max was still on the grid jokes had always been thrown in Charles’ direction about his bad cooking. What he was eating definitely wasn’t bad, Max thought. He supposed he had gotten better over time.

The sudden idea of Charles learning to properly cook for Amélie’s sake filled his head and the smile he had been trying to prevent finally broke out. He looked down and tried not to make it obvious.

“Bien?” Charles asked Amélie, leaning over to ruffle her hair.

“Qui.” She nodded eagerly, not once looking up from her plate, too busy eating to do so for even a second.

Max kept his head down as he ate, his ears picking up on the French music playing quietly from the speaker in the corner of the room. Everything felt so cozy. The light had been dimmed a little, a few plastic candles emitting light on top of a shelf above the window. The sun was faltering, getting ready to retire for the night in the distance over the hills. Max couldn’t help but smile to himself. He’d wanted this for longer than he could imagine.

A conversation ignited when Charles asked how Daniel was doing. Max explained that he was fine, getting ready for a trip back to Australia for a few weeks. Max, in turn, asked about Pierre. He’d never been too close to the Frenchman, barely having more than a handful of conversations with him in the past, but he still wanted to know. Charles cared a lot about the man and because of that Max also cared about him.

Pierre had been doing incredibly well before the break, Charles convinced that he was sure to get another handful of wins under his belt by the end of the season. Max smiled at that idea, Pierre was a good driver and deserved something to show for it.

The conversation went quiet for a short while towards the end of the meal, the only noise in the room being that from the speakers, until Amélie eventually spoke up. She sipped on her orange juice carton, eyes wide and innocent as she looked up to Max.

“Papa, are you staying over?” She asked, tone sweet and intrigued.

Max almost choked on the piece of pasta he had been eating. He quickly swallowed it down, clearing his throat with some water before replying.

“No, baby.” He shook his head. Charles’ head was turned down to face his plate, but Max swore he could feel his eyes on him.

“Why not?” She asked again, now confused.

“Because this is Daddy’s house, not Papa’s.” Max replied, his tone soft and sweet.

“But- But why do you and Daddy not both live together? Like Uncle Carlos and Uncle Lando?”

Max looked at her, opening his mouth to speak before quickly shutting it. He looked down to the table, itching the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. He could feel his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“Because, bébé…” Charles began, jumping in to save Max. He was just as flustered. “Because Papa and I have different houses.”

“But why?” She persevered, eyebrows knitted together as she tried to understand.

“Yes.” Charles nodded. “Yes- Yes because…” Whatever words he had been planning on saying died on his tongue.

Max caught him looking over at him and met his gaze. Charles looked at him with desperation, running a hand through his hair. The whole situation was so bizarre, but not exactly unsurprising. It only made sense for her to be confused and ask questions .

“Because Daddy and I are not together.” Max finished, locking eyes with their daughter.

“Together?”

“Yes, A. Your Daddy and I- We do not-” He began. The words hitched in his throat, but he had started now. There was no going back. “We do not love each other, like Uncle Carlos and Uncle Lando...” He managed.

The words that rolled of his tongue stung, itched at his skin as if he had just been stung by a nettle. But he didn’t so much as twitch a finger.

What he had said was true. Max loved Charles, but they did not love eachother.

“Okay.” Amélie eventually nodded, much to Max’ relief. He knew he could not have kept this demeanour up for a second longer if she had asked anything more.

Charles had fallen silent, and as the table took their last bites, everyone kept their heads down. Once finished, the Monegasque quickly rose to his feet, placing his plate into the sink. Max saw the way he hovered around the sink, unsure of his next movements.

Max finished soon after, stomach aching a little.

“Thank you.” Max smiled hesitantly, rising to his feet. He took the empty plate into his hand, his grip fierce.

Charles turned, sending a just as hesitant smile back his way. Max slowly headed over to him, Charles talking the plate from his hands as he neared close. He turned back to the sink, and Max headed back to Amélie, sitting beside her and watching fondly as she ate.

The mood in the room had fallen, there was no doubt about it.

Max stroked the hair behind her ear gently as she finished eating the final pieces of pasta on her plate. Charles didn’t move.

Once finished, Amélie took her plate over to Charles, allowing him to lean down and place a warm kiss on top of her head before she ran back into the living room. Charles watched her go, a fond yet deflated look on his face.

Max diverted his eyes, instead studying the table. He waited until Charles had turned back to face the sink, where he was now cleaning the plates, and spoke up again.

“Charles- I- Thank you.” He began, raising back to his feat again. “I uh- I think I should be heading home now.” He let out, slowly turning on his feet.

“Max-” Charles spoke, voice showing hints of desperation. Max paused, flickering his eyes back over to meet the Monegasque’s gaze. “I…” He cleared his throat, taking a pause. “Please- If you can- stay…” He let out. Max felt his breath hitch, as if he’d been winded and was struggling to find air.

“Stay?” Max asked, voice wavering a little. It felt too good to be true, the words sharp against his ears.

Charles nodded, swallowing a little. His eyes were wide, eyebrows sunken slightly.

All Max had ever wanted to do was stay.

“Alright…” He replied, voice quiet. Max thought his heart may have melted when he saw that the result of his reply was Charles’ eyes lighting up.

Charles turned, washing his hands and drying them on the towel. He faced Max once again, a small smile appearing on his features as he looked up at him through his eye lashes.

“I uh- I was going to give Amélie a quick bath before bed. Then uh, then I usually read her a story until she falls asleep.” He spoke, quiet. The idea of him reading a bedtime story to their daughter made Max’ heart do summersaults. Charles’ hands gripped tightly onto the marble countertop behind him. “After that, I was wondering… Well, I usually watch a movie, sometimes, and uh- I was wondering if you would like to stay and watch it with me?”

Would he?

Would he?

Max nodded his head, not caring how eager he looked. Charles was asking him to stay and watch a movie with him? Who the fuck would turn that offer down?

Definitely not Max.

“Yes.” He smiled, unable to contain it. “Yes I- I’d like that a lot.”

Charles smiled as well, breathing in.

“Alright.” He practically beamed, letting go of the countertop and brushing himself down. Any sense of awkwardness had disappeared. “I will just bath her. You do whatever you like, I just… I will be back.” He spoke, before rushing into the living room.

Max stayed behind for a moment, grinning to himself and taking a deep breath. He let it out in almost a laugh, feeling like an excited teenager. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet squeal, biting his lip and closing his eyes.

He heard Charles talking to Amélie in French, probably persuading her to follow him and get ready for the night.

Max opened his eyes once again, relieved that he was still in Charles house. No part of this was a dream. This was well untruly real life.

-*-

Max remembered the day word broke out about Charles’ pregnancy. It was the last thing Max had been expecting to see when he checked his phone that morning, having to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know, he’d known for a couple of weeks at that point, but it also wasn’t like he had gotten used to the idea yet. With the media knowing, with the fans knowing, things got a little more real for Max. He felt himself panic a little, having to take a sip of water to try and calm down.

This was all happening, he was going to be a father. The father of Charles’ baby.

The secret had been revealed when paparazzi snapped a series of photographs of Charles off guard, walking around Monaco wearing nothing but a simple grey t-shirt to cover his torso. It was loose fitting, sure, but the way it clung to his sides as he walked in the sweltering sun had hid nothing.

News outlets ran wild with the image, as had Twitter and almost every other social media site. It didn't take long for people to come to the conclusion of why his stomach had a little bump to it. There’d already been speculation. After taking an abrupt year out of racing and barely being seen in the public eye for weeks, people had known something was going on. The pictures only confirmed just what that something was.

Max had instantly rang him, worried to his core. He could only imagine how panicked Charles would have been about the whole situation, scared and almost certainly cursing himself. He didn’t care that they were still on rocky terms, he wanted to be there for him.

Charles picked up the phone after two rings.

“Charles?” Max instantly spoke up, skipping the introductions. “Charles, is everything okay?”

The line went silent for a few seconds, Max waiting eagerly. When he eventually heard a slight sniffle from the other side he felt his heart break and he had to bite on his fist to try and keep his cool.

“Yes.” Charles replied, voice shaky and quiet. He took a deep breath.

“Shit, Charlie, I’m so sorry…” Max whispered out, heart aching.

“I- Fuck.” He cursed himself, taking another deep breath and seething through his teeth. It was obvious he had been in tears. “I feel so stupid.”

Max instantly shook his head, correcting his posture on his sofa. It didn’t occur to him that Charles couldn’t see him.

“No, Charles.” He stated, quickly. “This isn’t your fault. You should not have to watch your back in your hometown, definitely not when you’re off work. That was your time. They have no right to invade your privacy like that.”

“I was- I was heading over to my Mama’s house and I just- I woke up late and I forgot.” He sniffled, voice breaking as he spoke again. “I forgot.”

“And that is okay, Charles. You shouldn’t blame yourself, it isn’t your fault. You were just going about your day.” His heart ached.

“Max, I- I’m so sorry.” He practically whimpered out. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t do this on purpose. I promise, Max.”

Max’ breath hitched at those words.

“I know. I know...” He reassured.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” He sobbed the words out. Max felt tears pool in his own eyes. He wished he was next to him, able to pull him into his arms and reassure him.

“Charles, I know you didn’t.” Max tried to reassure him, but he was in a seriously bad state.

“This- It was ours to tell. I never would have done it without you on purpose.” He managed, voice shaking all the while. “This baby- It is just as much yours as mine.”

Max listened to his words, voice not working as he listened to Charles speak.

“We are in this together, Max.” Charles spoke, voice barely a whisper.

Max felt chills run through his skin at those words.

It had been weeks, sure, but he and Charles had barely spoken about an arrangement. All they knew was that they were keeping it, anything beyond that hadn’t been discussed.

But hearing Charles say that they were in it together… It reassured Max. He knew Charles wasn’t cruel, he wouldn’t stop him from seeing the baby or anything of the sort, but just being reminded that he was involved, that this baby was theirs… It was what Max had been needing to hear, deep down.

“We are.” Max whispered back, scared that if he spoke up even a little bit his own voice would hitch.

“I want you with me, Max. I want us to do this together.” He sniffed out. “In whatever way… I want you to be involved.”

“I want that too…” Max managed, practically on the verge of tears himself. “And we can work something out, Charles.”

“Yeah.” Charles confirmed with a weak voice, sniffling to himself.

“It’s going to be okay.” Max spoke, voice soft and reassuring. “I promise. I know everybody is going crazy over it, and I know the next few weeks are going to be difficult… But it will be okay. And in a few months…”

Charles laughed to himself, shaky and breathy, but he did nevertheless. The sound rushed through Max’ veins, forcing his heart to beat faster.

“We will have a little baby…” He finished, tone heightened as if he was smiling.

“Yeah.” Max replied, a small smile appearing on his lips. “We will.”

He was still in disbelief, thought he might be until he finally held their baby in his arms.

“When people find out that- that I am the father, this will all get even crazier. People will almost definitely have something to say on the matter, but their opinion doesn’t matter, Charles.” Max spoke, voice sterner. “The only people who are entitled to an opinion about this are you and I…”

“Mhm.” Charles confirmed, his voice a little more confident.

“Just you and I…” Max repeated, still in disbelief.

The phone call didn’t last much longer. Pierre had knocked on Charles’ door at one point and the Monegasque had let out an honest thank you and hung up, promising to text him to confirm he was okay later on.

Charles hadn’t had it easy recently, but he usually always managed to keep himself together. As soon as Max had heard his shaky voice, he knew it was bad. He was glad that he seemed to have cheered Charles up, only ever wanting to hear him happy.

He cursed the press for what they had done. Anger seeped through him. This was Charles’ news to tell, not some money obsessed paparazzi’s.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He feared in this state he might do something rash and end up making it worse. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the happier tone in Charles’ voice as he hung up the phone.

His thoughts drifted off. The image of a baby in his arms, Charles beside him, invaded his thoughts. Max welcomed it, unable to hold back a smile.

Because Max was going to be a father- He was going to be the father to Charles’ baby.

Charles was right, in whatever way, they would be in this together. That was something to be excited about.

-*-

From where he was sat on the sofa, Max heard the water run through the pipes as it began to drain out of the bath. He heard giddy laughter from the bathroom, and couldn’t help but smile to himself.

A few seconds later the bathroom door clicked open and Max looked over as Charles emerged with Amélie in his arms. She wore cute fluffy purple pyjamas, a pink cat embroidered into the shirt. Her damp hair had been styled into cute little French plaits, thanks to Charles’ hands, and Max couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Can Papa come too?” Amélie asked Charles, tone apprehensive.

“If Papa wants to.” Charles spoke, running a gentle hand over her cheek. “Ask him.” He whispered into her ear, playfully.

She turned to face Max, her eyes tired. He waited peacefully.

“Papa, can you watch Daddy read me a story?” She asked, sweetly.

Max couldn’t help but smile at the question, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Of course.” He beamed. He’d never say no to that, didn’t have it in him even if for some god awful reason he wanted to.

She smiled excitedly in response, reaching out for Max to take her into his arms. He quickly rose to his feet, rushing over and doing just that. He settled her against his hip, placing a kiss to her head and stroking her thin bangs away from near her eyes.

He looked up, catching Charles’ gaze. Instead of looking away, the Monegasque smiled at him. It was a fond smile, his dimples deepening as he did so. A slight sheen of water coated his cheeks and forehead where he had probably been splashed with water, and his face glistened under the light.

Max thought he was seriously beautiful. Like nothing he had ever seen before. He gazed at him with a similar smile, content running through his veins.

When a sleepy Amélie yawned from against his hip, her head landing against his own slightly exposed collarbone, their gazes finally left one another. Charles slowly headed in the direction of Amélie’s room, Max holding her close to himself and following. The smile remained on his face as he watched the ground.

Her room was painted in a light pink colour on all walls except from one which was decorated with a cartoon floral pattern. Her bed lay in the corner, a small pink rug lying beside it. Various toys were scattered around the corners of the room, a huge array of teddies organised neatly inside of a cute white teepee tent.

Max thought that the space was awfully cute and could imagine Pierre and Charles painting it together. A part of him began to imagine himself in Pierre’s place and he quickly shook the thought away, instead holding Amélie closer to him.

Charles headed over to the windows, closing the curtains. He switched the lamp on, to which Max, almost by default, switched off the main light. The Monegasque pulled the dark pink sheets back, fluffing up the pillows and gently placing bunny, who had fallen down the side of the bed, on top of them.

Max watched it with a fond look.

“Amélie.” Charles soon spoke up, taking a seat on her bed. “Viens ici, bébé…”

Max headed over to him, his steps slow. As Charles held his hands out, Max leaned over, passing the little girl to him. Charles placed a kiss to her head as he took her in his hold, before gently shuffling around and carefully laying her down on the mattress. Her eyes were open, but barely. Max smiled as he crouched down on the floor, steadying himself against her bedside cabinet.

Charles pulled the sheets back over her, tucking her in as gently as he could. A small smile was settled on his lips as he did so.

“Livré?” Charles asked her, voice barely above a whisper.

“Mhm.” She quietly replied, blinking slowly.

“Okay, baby.” Charles replied in quiet English, tracing her cheek with his finger.

For the next five minutes or so, Charles read her a book that Max had picked out. It was in French, meaning that Max didn’t understand a word of it, but he that didn’t matter. He always said to himself that he could listen to Charles speak in French for hours, and he hadn’t been wrong in saying that - he truly could. It was a perfect sound, made even more perfect in that moment in the quiet yet exciting way the man was reading out the words. Max truly thought he had to have won a prize or something of the sort to be able to experience this.

It hit him at one point just how bizarre this all was. From only ever speaking to Charles over a few distant texts or a few moments at his door to kneeling beside him as he read a bedtime story to their daughter. The situation was so domestic, so homely. Max cherished every second, not entirely believing he would ever get to experience this again.

After about ten minutes, Amélie was fast asleep. Soft snores flooded the cosy bedroom, to which Charles quietly finished the sentence he had gotten to and smiled at her. He quietly closed the book, tucking it neatly in the space beside her bed.

“Bonne nuit, mon amour…” He whispered from beside her, carefully stroking the side of her face. He leant forward, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

He rose to his feet, taking a few steps back. Max could feel the other man’s gaze on him as he leant forward, stroking her cheek carefully.

“Good night, A.” He whispered to her, following the same motion as Charles and leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Leaning back, he looked over at her for a few more seconds. He then decided that there was seriously no doubt about it, he and Charles had made the perfect baby.

He too rose to his feet, catching Charles' gaze once more. He was smiling at him and Max couldn’t help but return the gesture. His heart felt full.

“Movie?” Charles questioned.

“Sure.” Max replied, simply, when all he’d really wanted to say was of course.

He followed Charles out of the room, turning around and looking at their sleeping daughter once more. Her eyes had fallen shut, the room filling with soft snores. She looked peaceful, tucked tightly into the sheets. He smiled fondly at her, swiftly turning and closing the door behind him.

Max hovered in the doorway as Charles rushed around the room, flicking the corner lamp on and turning the main light off. He fluffed the pillows up, organising them neatly.

“Remote…” He muttered to himself as he leaned back and looked around for the television controller. With no luck, he ran a hand through his hair. After a second or two, however, his eyes landed on Amélie’s toy box. “Aha!” He called out, voice still quiet so that it didn’t reach the other room.

Max watched in slight amusement as the Monegasque rushed over to the toy box, falling quickly to his knees and taking the lid off. He laughed at what he saw, reaching inside and pulling out the remote. He showed it to Max, face beaming with excitement.

“She does this all the time!” He laughed to himself, looking down to the remote and shaking his head. He climbed to his feet as he continued. “I think she likes the idea of me running around like a crazy person.”

Max laughed, heading a little further into the room. With the dim lights only coming from the corner of the room, the space looked homely. Almost intimate.

Charles laughed again, before taking a seat on the sofa. He looked in Max’ direction, smile still on his face.

“You- You want to…” He stuttered out, trailing away from whatever he was going to say and instead patting the empty space beside him.

All Max could do was nod, his feet carrying him over to the sofa. He lowered himself down onto the sofa, placing his palms against his knees as he watched Charles turn the television on to Netflix.

“Do you uh…” He began, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Max didn’t take his eyes away from the screen, almost scared to. God, what was happening? How had he gotten here? Sat in Charles’ living room at eight in the evening about to watch a movie with him.

“I don’t mind.” He shook his head, telling the honest truth. The fact this was happening was more than enough for him.

“Hmm…” Charles drawled out, flicking through the categories until something caught his eye. When it did, his face lit up.

“Oh my god! The Hangover!” Charles exclaimed, still managing to keep his voice quiet. He laughed to himself. “Have you ever seen it?”

“Yes, of course.” Max replied enthusiastically, unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to study the Monegasque. He looked so excited, eyes wide with wonder as he stared at the screen. It made Max’ heart flutter.

“God, me and my brothers used to watch this all the time.” He laughed to himself, leaning back against the sofa, knees still raised up high. “Let’s watch it.” He clicked the icon eagerly.

Max smiled in content at the excitement on his features, looking back over to the television again as the opening scene rolled. He suddenly became aware of how stiff his posture was, quickly slackening it and moving further back on the sofa. He spread his legs out a little, relaxing them. There was no need to be so tense, it was just him and Charles, chilling out together and watching a movie.

The idea was still bizarre to him, but nothing he wished to complain about.

“We fucked up.” Charles mimicked the television. Max caught his eye and the pair of them burst out into laughter, shushing each other to try and keep their volume down.

As the opening credits rolled and clips of Vegas played out on the screen, Charles looked around the room. Max watched his eyes land on a storage box beside the sofa, quickly looking away as the man bent over to get something from inside it.

“Yes! I thought this was in here...” Charles spoke to himself, almost proud he had guessed right. Max’s eyes flicked over and watched him unfold a blanket. “Are you cold? Do you want some of it?” He asked Max, turning to face him. Max’ eyes darted over to catch his gaze, and he soon realised that Charles was offering him a part of the blanket.

“Oh, uh.” He began, voice stuttering as he tried to pull himself together. “Yes- yes, a little. Sure.” He replied before he could even think about what he was saying.

Charles smiled at him, handing him the other side of the blanket. Max watched himself take it from Charles’ grip, trying not to shiver as their hands touched.

They both settled underneath it, just in time for the movie to properly begin, connected by the fabric though at opposite ends of the sofa.

Max tried to keep his calm.

This was a friendship he was repairing. Nothing more. A friendship. He was cold and Charles had offered him something to warm him up. It was cold in here, right?

As the film got into full swing, the pair of them had to remind one another to keep their laughs to a minimised volume. There was something about watching a movie with another person that made the whole experience funnier, but watching it with Charles made the experience truly other worldly. They were practically in hysterics before the protagonists even got to Vegas, Max having to wipe a few stray tears from the area surrounding his tear ducts with the blanket.

“You remember how much you hated our first race at Vegas?” Charles brought up as the camera flashed over the Vegas strip now in the dark.

Max let out a laugh, throwing his head back a little at the memory.

“Oh, god yes! Well, I suppose I didn’t hate the race so much… Just everything before it. The race was okay, but I just hated having to put on a show when all I wanted to do was drive.” Max pointed out, shrugging. Charles listened. “I was a racer, we were racers… That is what we were there to do, you know?”

Charles nodded eagerly. Max felt his heart warm as the Monegasque agreed with him, feeling almost as if nothing had changed from all those years ago. He’d missed talking with Charles about racing, it had always been one of his favourite things to do after a race. Max remembered having a similar conversation to this one at the time, both still high on the excitement of finishing first and second. The flashback made him smile.

“I wasn’t a fan either. Definitely not of the showbiz element, but not really the track either. It was dangerous, no? When it ripped the bottom of Carlos’ car to shreds in the qualifying...” Charles stated, voice a little put off at the reminder. Max knew how distressed that occurrence had made Charles at the time.

“I know.” Max nodded in understanding. “And Lando’s crash...” He shook his head in disbelief at the reminder, a slight chill running through him.

“Oh, of course.” Charles replied, seeming to have just remembered. He let out a breath of air. “Yes, no. Not one of my favourite races, if I am honest…”

Max agreed with him, shaking his head.

Their attentions turned back to the television, watching as the camera followed the four into the hotel, remaining in silence as the scene played out.

Max still felt warm from their conversation, the idea of himself and Charles still on the same terms making him so happy he had to contain a wild smile. He sat with that feeling for a while, basking in it.

Eventually, around five minutes later, in a small and rather hesitant voice, Charles spoke up again.

“Do you miss racing?” He asked Max, body now turned to completely face him.

Max froze a little, not expecting that bombshell of a question at all.

“I…” Max began, trailing off. He searched, soon finding his words again. “Both yes and no…” He shrugged. Charles watched him closely, pausing the television and waiting calmly for him to continue. “Racing was always something my father had wanted me to get into. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it, I really did, it was my life and I adored it… But I think it got to a point where there was no competition anymore, no anything. People… They hated me, you know?” He saw Charles’ eyes grow sad, and hated it. He wanted to see nothing but a smile on those pink lips of his. “I… I was already thinking about retiring, either that or atleast changing teams to where I’d have a challenge, or something of the sort. But when… When you told me about Amélie, I think that settled it for me…”

“The fact that you were going to retire?” Charles questioned, voice timid.

“Yeah.” Max confirmed, shrugging again. He looked down to his hands, memories coming back to him. “I told myself that I was going to retire and devote my time to being the father to her that my own father never was to me.” He took a pause, face breaking out in a smile. “It was one of the best decisions I ever made...”

He looked to Charles’ eyes, meeting them once again. A smile worked its way onto the Monegasque’s lips, but soon faltered a little.

“I- I guess a part of me always felt a little guilty. As if- as if I was the reason you retired.” Charles spoke up, his voice still quiet.

Max’ eyes shot wide open.

“No! God, no.” Max instantly shook his head. “No, Charles. Amélie- she gave me a new purpose. I had done what I wanted in racing. You were just getting started and I was near the end of it. I knew that we probably couldn’t both be driving if we were to have her, neither of us would see her, so that settled it for me. I had a reason to leave, such an exciting reason to try something new and leave racing.” Max explained with a smile. Charles soon smiled along with him again, listening closely to what Max had to say. “I think deep down I was already leaning towards retiring anyway, even if I had given myself the other option of moving teams, it was just scary. What my father would think, you know, stuff like that. Amélie was the push I needed. The push I wanted.”

Charles' smile grew wider. God, there was never a moment where Max didn’t adore that smile, warmth rushing through him. The Monegasque’s features softened a little, his gaze turning gentle.

“You’re so good with her…” Charles spoke.

“So are you.” Max replied back, almost instantly.

“Yeah but like- she is always talking about you, Max. Always telling everyone about her Papa. She adores you.” Max’ heart warmed at the image of her talking so fondly of him. He knew his little girl loved him, but hearing just how much from Charles himself made it feel even more special. “I know she loves me too, but I just think it is important for you to know just how special you are to her. You wanted to be a better father than your own? You did it, Max. God, you did it.”

It wasn’t often Max teared up, but as the words continued to fall from Charles’ lips, he could feel water clouding up his once clear vision.

“Fuck. You think so?” He asked, voice raw and cracking a little.

“I know so.” Charles nodded in confirmation, eyes stern.

Max laughed a single breath out, looking down to his fingers that gripped the blanket. A chill ran through his spine.

“Everything you do for us Max… It means the world. If it wasn’t for you I’d probably have had to give up racing...” Charles was speaking with such admiration, Max knew he meant every word. “I-I never truly said thank you for everything...”

“You don’t have to…” Max reassured him.

“I do, though.” Charles replied, confidently. He swallowed deeply, taking a breath before he spoke again. “When… When I found out, I was so scared to tell you. I was so scared as to what you’d say… If you’d be angry with me…”

“Charles... I could never be angry with you.”

“I know, and I soon reminded myself of that. I’ve always trusted you, even during our karting days. Even when you were running me off the road, I knew I could still trust you to not hurt me.” The emotion was clear in Charles’ face.

“I'd never hurt you.” Max spoke, voice raw as he tried to keep himself together. “Fuck, Charles. I… I care for you so much.”

“I know.” Charles nodded. “And I care for you too. God- So fucking much, Max. In the last few years I’ve done the worst job at showing it. Distancing myself from you, abandoning our friendship. All because…” He stopped abruptly, looking down as he tried to stop himself from shaking. He took a deep breath, bracing himself. Max looked deep into his eyes, those green, glassy eyes. They soon met his own, his heart beat speeding up so fast to the point he was certain that he could physically feel it in his throat. “Because I wanted more.” A single tear ran down the man’s face, Max’ breath hitching.

“You… You did?” Max asked, voice hoarse, scratchy. One or two tears slipped down his own cheeks.

“Yeah.” Charles nodded, sniffling. “I- I still do.” Max let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, heat rising up through his body. “Fuck, Max- I pushed you away. I pushed you away and I feel so sick for doing it. I never wanted to, I just didn’t know how to… How to start again. The last time…”

“I know.” Max nodded weakly, reaching up and wiping a tear away from where it was now running over Charles’ reddened cheek.

“He broke me. I didn’t think I could do it again.” Charles practically whimpered, speaking out so bravely. “But I was pushing you away and it was cruel, so cruel. Fuck- I am so sorry.”

Max shook his head softly.

“It’s okay… I know what happened, how- how it affected you.” Max spoke, softly. “You don’t have to say sorry. I promise you, Charles, you don’t.”

“But I behaved so wrong…” Another tear slipped down his face. “I told you it meant nothing… I lied to you. Because I was scared.”

Max felt a lump appear in his throat.

“And I understand… I can’t imagine how scary it would have been.” Max spoke. “Charles you weren’t ready. It- it hurt, I won’t lie to you. But what happened to you hurt more and I understood. I knew you needed to figure it all out, and I didn’t mind that.”

“I am so sorry I hurt you.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“But I am… I really am. I want you to know that.”

Max nodded. “I do.”

Of course Max knew, Charles was a soft soul. He couldn’t imagine any universe where Charles purposefully hurt him either. He gave him a reassuring smile, reaching over with an unsteady hand to dry the younger man’s cheeks.

He leant back, taking a breath and locking eyes with the Monegasque.

“You… You said you…” Max began, not really knowing how to start what he wanted to say, or how to even say it at all. He could feel his cheeks heating up, a red tint appearing on them. “Well…”

“…That I wanted more?” Charles replied, voice a little shy.

Max met his eyes again, having to take a moment to understand if he was hearing this right.

Fuck, he was. He really was.

“Yes.” Max nervously laughed out. His body was sweating, stomach filled with anxiety yet, at the same time, excitement. So much excitement he could cry from it. “You still do?” Max asked, apprehensive, but if he was honest it was more for confirmation than anything. He’d heard Charles, loud and clear.

“I do.” Charles nodded, a small yet delighted smile appearing on his lips.

Max tried not to start to hyperventilate, tried not to show the overwhelming excitement on his face. But holy fuck- this was happening. It was actually happening.

For years Max had wanted this conversation. He’d been a teenager when he first fell in love with Charles, young and completely mesmerised by the Monegasque. Now, in his early thirties, after having a baby with the younger man, after loving him for over a decade… It was happening.

“I’ve wanted more for so long, Max…” He began, voice strained. “I don’t know… I managed to relieve myself of the fear of getting into another relationship and then… Then I just- I was scared you wouldn’t want me anymore, that maybe you- you never wanted me.” He managed, casting his eyes down. A sad look flashed on his features, and Max felt his heart break. He took Charles’ hands into his own.

He understood that, he really did.

“I don’t remember a time where I didn't want you...” Max whispered. Charles bit his lip, clearly trying to stop any more tears from falling.

“Fuck.” Charles whimpered out, taking a shaky breath. He turned to lock eyes with Max again. “I- I know you understand how I felt. I know you understand why I said what I said after- after we had sex... But I just- I’m so sorry.” Charles barely managed a whisper.

Max squeezed his hands.

“Stop apologising.” He reassured. “Things were hard for so long. I lied to you too, I told you the same.”

“Only because you didn’t want to ruin things.”

“Yeah, but we were in a difficult situation. Things were tough, but it’s over now.” Max spoke, seriously. He wanted Charles to stop beating himself up about what was now the past, but he knew that was a bridge that would take a while to cross. He was so thankful that Charles was sorry, that fact meant a lot to Max, but he also hated him feeling this bad. “If- If you really feel the same way, then how about we just focus on the future? No more looking back?” He squeezed Charles' hands again in reassurance and a small smile eventually flickered on the younger’s lips. “It’s going to be a big change, but God, I have wanted this for… For so long.”

Max took a deep breath, trying not to shake. Everything was coming out, everything.

“I have loved you for so long, Charles…” He admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Charles' eyes lit up, bright and vivid. Max felt adoration flow through him at the sight. Making him feel like that was one of Max’ favourite things in the world.

“Fuck, Max.” He eventually managed, his breath hitching. “It’s been a long while of overthinking, stressing… But- But me too.” He whispered back. “I wasn’t ready to admit it for so long, I was too scared. But now I am…”

His eyes brightened somehow even more, a dazzling smile tugging at his lips.

“I love you too, Max.” He replied confidently, squeezing Max’ hands back. His smile turned into a grin, wide and exhilarating. “I love you, so much… I want to start things how they should have been for a while now. I want us to be a family. You, me, Amélie…”

For a moment Max couldn’t breathe. He felt winded, like the air had been taken right from his lungs.

A family.

Charles, him and Amélie.

Max’ own eyes began to water, and he took in a deep breath.

“A family?” He asked for confirmation, voice shaking as he did so.

Charles bit his lip, holding back his own tears. He nodded thoroughly, laughing in almost relief.

“Yes…” He whispered back, wiping the few tears that had slid over Max’ cheeks. “Do you?”

Max grinned, sniffling to himself.

“I want that more than anything…” He managed, heart beating so fast.

Charles hand cupped his cheek, and soon they were both laughing through their tears. Happy tears, relieved and excited.

Charles was looking up at him through his eyelashes, his once pink lips now red and puffy from the tears. Max couldn’t help it. He held his breath slightly, edging forward ever so slowly, allowing Charles to back away if he wanted to. Charles didn’t back away, and soon their lips met in a kiss. In that moment, Max felt truly complete. Like a hole in his heart had been filled, having been empty for so long.

Max reached one hand up to Charles’ hair, stroking through it as gently as he would have if he had been made from delicate porcelain. He settled his other hand securely around his waist, unable to contain a smile against the Monegasque’s lips.

Years. Hours. Seconds. He had dreamt of this, imagined it at the lowest points of his life and even at the highest points. He had wanted this for so long, had burned for it.

A friendship would have been incredible, but this… To Max, this was it. This was everything. The chance to have Charles, to have him and Amélie as a true little family…

It was honestly everything to him.

He didn’t know how long his lips remained against Charles’, but to him it didn’t matter. After years of waiting, all that mattered was that this was happening.

It was Charles who eventually pulled away, only for a second before he pushed his lips up against Max’ once again. Max had not yet caught his breath back, but pushed that to the side. Charles was pressed up against him, their lips connected. One of his hands was around Max’ waist, the other gently caressing his cheek. The last thing Max cared about was air.

Charles pulled away again a few seconds later, an excited giggle leaving his lips. He kept his hands in the same place, staring at Max with such admiration. Their eyes met again, and somehow the Monegasque’s smile brightened even further.

“Fuck…” Max managed, laughing out slightly himself as he tried to catch his breath.

“That was even better than I imagined.” Charles beamed. Max’ eyes lit up.

“You imagined this too?”

“Recently all the time…” Charles whispered out, smiling wide as he stroked his thumb over Max’ warm cheek.

Max couldn’t help it, he pushed his lips up against Charles’ again, pulling him even closer somehow. Charles laughed against his lips, in turn also pulling Max closer. The kiss soon heated up, tongues moving fast, as if trying to make up for lost time. Desire pumped through Max’ veins, his body hot.

Eventually he had to pull away, so starved of breath he was sure he was about to pass out any moment. The pair of them gasped as soon as their lips parted, laughing fondly at the fact.

“God, Charles… This is one of the best days of my life.” Max spoke. “I feel… God, I can’t even explain how I feel.”

Charles nodded eagerly, knowing eyes starting into Max’.

“Me too…” He sympathised. “If I was to guess I would say that I feel almost ethereal.”

Max laughed sweetly at the man’s description. He ran his hand through his hair, leaning over and kissing his cheeks where the tears had stained.

“No more of these.” He whispered, gently wiping the remaining few away.

“Mhm.” Charles replied, as confident as he could. “We’re here now.”

“Exactly.” Max nodded in understanding, heart full. “Where we go from here, that’s all that matters. The past is behind us.”

Charles nodded eagerly in response, sniffling to assure that his tears stopped. Max did the same.

He settled back on the sofa, pulling a willing Charles up against his chest. He ran his hands through the man’s soft brown locks, the pair of them staring aimlessly ahead as they basked in the feeling of being in one another’s arms.

They didn’t speak for a short while, no words necessary.

Max had Charles here. In his arms.

He smiled at the idea, leaning down and kissing the man’s forehead.

“I think Amélie will be excited about this. Her daddies, together.” Charles whispered out. Max smiled at the idea.

“I can’t wait to tell her.” Max replied, voice just as quiet.

“Me neither.”

“Let’s wait for a while, though. Work things out, you know.”

Charles nodded eagerly. “Yes, of course.”

They had waited so long for this. They could take it slow, neither of them was going anywhere.

It would take a lot of getting used to. For four years Max had been picking up and dropping off their daughter from house to house, it would be a change, that was for sure. A good change, nevertheless.

Neither of them knew how things were going to turn out, but in those few moments, curled up together on Charles’ sofa, they didn’t need to think about them. They didn’t have to do anything other than simply lay there and finally spend time together. They had waited long enough.

“Should we carry on watching?” Max questioned, looking down at Charles. The Monegasque looked up, catching Max’ gaze through his lashes.

He thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head softly.

“I’m a little tired, honestly…” He spoke, squeezing onto Max tighter. A smile grew on his face. “All that crying.”

Max laughed a little, stroking the younger’s hair out of his eyes.

“Me too.”

“We can watch it some other time...” Charles pointed out, his eyes droopy and tired.

He smiled widely at Charles’ words, holding him closer to his chest.

That’s right, they could watch it some other time. This wasn’t their only chance, this was just the beginning of something much bigger. This was the start of their lives together.

Max’ heart warmed at the idea.

Charles wasn’t going anywhere. Amélie wasn’t going anywhere. Max had them both now, the three of them were a family.

Just like he’d always wanted.