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Charles knows there is going to be a fight the moment he parks the car back in the garage.
They are in Mexico, and Free Practice 2 has just finished with a bit of an incident between Max’s Red Bull and Charles’ teammate. It wasn’t anything major, or too costly — just some damage on the front wing of the RB19 — but he knows in the state Max is in right now, in the beginning stages of his rut, he will blow it out of proportion like he hadn’t done in so many years.
Charles barely pays attention to the mechanics surrounding his car, he simply takes out the steering wheel as they are moving the car back into the garage. He unhooks himself from everything and as soon as Charles is able to, he steps out of the car, quickly moving to the paddock just in time to step in front of a furious looking Max.
“Step aside, Charles.”
It’s been a while since Charles last saw the alpha this angry, but the omega stands his ground and thanks his lucky stars that Max has enough state of mind to not outright command Charles to move. He doesn’t think anyone would take too kindly to that.
“No.” He refuses him firmly, making icy blue eyes tinted with a bit of fiery red focus solely on him. Good. “You need to let this go.”
Charles can feel the tension growing around them, can feel the cameras pointing their way and how all teams are gathering next to them to witness whatever is about to happen.
“Charles, get out of there!”
The omega ignores his teammate’s scream — even though it’s Carlos' fault that this is happening in the first place, overtaking Max as if they were in a race instead of just FP2, thankfully nobody was sent to the barriers. Charles’ eyes stay focused solely on the alpha standing in front of him. Max, on the other hand, doesn’t ignore it, instead he takes a step towards the other alpha, but Charles blocks him once again, a hand coming up to rest in the middle of the alpha’s chest.
“Max,” he calls him firmly, eyes shining a golden hue. “Walk away.”
The alpha’s eyes immediately snap back to focus on Charles’ own, the red receding back and giving way to the blue Charles is a bit too used looking at. Still, Charles doesn’t move his hand away and can feel the way Max inhales deeply, trying to contain his anger.
“Find Christian, or Brad, and tell them you are not feeling well. Or take a long walk away from everyone. Just… Walk away. Now.”
Max stares at him for quite a few seconds, blue eyes searching for something in hazel ones. Charles can see the way his jaw muscles are working, hands closing into a fist then open again, fingers flexing. And then, with one last deep breath, he steps back and walks away and the tension that had been building all around them finally breaks off. Noise starts to make its way into Charles’ brain once again, people coming from behind him to pull him back into the garage.
Charles ignores the cameras and the other teams, he simply marches up to Xavi and asks him to review the data they were able to gather from this practice session. After what feels like an hour, the briefing gets interrupted by none other than Red Bull’s Team Principal.
“Can we talk?” The Brit asks, not feeling shy despite every eye in the room being focused on him.
Charles nods and excuses himself, leading the older alpha somewhere more private.
“I heard what you did for Max.”
“Oh, that was—”
“Dumb? Reckless?” Charles frowns at the alpha’s choice of words. “You could have gotten yourself hurt.”
“Max wouldn’t hurt me.” He says with absolute certainty.
Max can be described as many bad things as his haters like to often do, but no one can ever call him an omega beater. Not when Charles knows Max would hate to turn out like his own father. So no, Charles was never in any real danger of getting hurt by the Dutchman.
Christian just hums, taking in his response and how confident he feels in it. “Well, regardless of how reckless what you did was, I truly appreciate what you did for him.”
If Max had started the fight he intended to have with Carlos, then the blond alpha and Red Bull would both be fined, so Charles put a stop to it before it could even happen. Even though Charles knows it was a big thing to do for a competitor, he still says, “It was nothing.”
“It was everything, Charles.” Christian says earnestly. “Thank you.”
Charles looks down, a blush creeping up his cheeks at the older alpha’s words.
“How, um… How is he?”
Christian smiles, endeared by the omega’s sudden shyness. “He looked a bit on edge once he found us, but had calmed down quite a bit. I think it shocked him to be confronted by you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, none of us were prepared for you to stand up to him.”
“I just didn’t want him to fight. Especially not when he’s in rut and not thinking clearly.”
“So you can tell.”
Charles frowns. “Of course I can. He showed up yesterday with symptoms. You… You guys didn’t know?”
“We knew, but that’s because we are in close quarters with him. We didn't think it was that obvious.”
And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Charles has known Max for too long, got used to the way he usually smells like. Or maybe his silly little crush makes him a bit too aware of Max Verstappen's subtle scent changes.
Charles refuses to think too hard about it.
“Oh,” is all he manages to say.
Christian decides to take pity on him. “He decided to go on a walk, to clear his mind a bit and clear all scents from his nose so as to not be too overwhelmed. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind your company.”
Not some company, Charles’ company.
He decides not to pay too close attention to that and instead nods and listens carefully to Christian’s instructions on where to find the blond alpha. On his way to meet the unsuspecting man, Charles grabs a bottle of water he could take to Max, as he has a feeling the other man will be drinking a red bull, if anything at all. And he needs to stay hydrated for when the fever hits him fully.
And Charles is proved right once he finds Max sitting down on the ground, covered by the shade the wall provides, head hanging low between his knees and a can of red bull in his hands. Charles taps lightly the bottle against the flat rim of the alpha’s cap to get his attention.
“You shouldn’t be drinking that, you need to stay hydrated.”
Max looks up at him, squinting his eyes against the sun but says nothing.
“You know, for your rut.” He adds, just in case Max is oblivious to his own state.
His scrunched up face turns into a scowl. “How the hell do you know that?”
“It’s pretty obvious.” Charles says in lieu of an answer as he bends down at the waist to take away Max’s can of red bull, which he fully knows the alpha is allowing him to do, and passes him the water bottle. Max doesn’t open it right this second but at least he doesn’t throw it away.
A win is a win.
Charles sits down on the pavement next to the alpha, bodies bumping together as he settles down. The omega can feel Max’s body tensing up for a few seconds before he relaxes. Charles doesn’t comment on it.
“Your scent and attitude.” He finally replies, taking a swig from the energy drink he basically stole from the Dutchman.
Max’s eyes focus on him, following his every move as he drinks from the can. The alpha only snaps out of his trance-like state once Charles turns to look at him, cocking his head to the side.
To cover his reddened cheeks, Max opens the bottle the omega had brought him and takes a big gulp.
Once again, Charles decides not to comment on it.
They stay seated in silence for a few moments, Charles staring straight ahead and Max sipping water every now and then.
“I’m on new suppressants,” Max admits out of the blue, putting the bottle down on the ground. Charles is pleased to see that two thirds of its content is gone.
“Oh.”
“I had to stop taking my old ones because I’ve been taking them since I presented and stopped being effective.” He informs him. “These new ones… they said that I could experience a few side effects that present in the form of rut-like symptoms.”
“I know those, I've been taking the omega version for a few years now. It’s like going through a cycle without— well, you know.” He blushes a bit at the implication.
“Yeah.” Max covers his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes and cheeks. “Are your heats miserable? With this pill, I mean.”
That startles a surprised laugh out of the omega. “That’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. Bold? Straight forward? Too presumptuous?
Max runs a hand over his face once again. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t— don’t answer that.” He backtracks, shaking his head with embarrassment, cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.
“No, that’s— ” Charles laughs a bit awkwardly. “I think it’s worse to go through a full cycle by yourself than suffer through some of the symptoms.” He answers honestly,
Max makes a noncommittal sound, grabbing the water bottle once again, this time finishing all its content before he says, “Thank you for stopping me.”
Charles turns so look at him, a soft smile on his face. “You’re welcome.”
“I really wanted to punch him.” He admits.
“I know.”
“It was stupid of you to get in between though.”
Charles snorts, and he doesn’t care it isn’t a flattering sound. “I’ll tell you what I told Christian when he said that to me: I was never in danger of you hurting me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, Max, I do know that. If you wanted to punch me, you would have done it years ago, when we were young and I was insufferable, but you never did. Me stopping you from reaching Carlos is not a reason for you to hurt me. And you are in rut, no alpha would hurt an omega when they are like that, not when instinctively you want one by your side.”
They both blush at the implication, but Max nods in agreement to what the omega had said.
Charles bumps him on the shoulder with his own. “Come on, let’s find Brad so he can drive you back to the hotel.”
They walk back together to the hospitalities, and Charles once again doesn’t comment on the fact that Max is lingering a bit too close to him, as if he is trying to shield him from everyone else trying to bump into him.
They don’t get a chance to say anything else, since Charles is spotted and pried away by people from his team, but he doesn’t care since they had reached Red Bull’s hospitality anyway.
If Charles blushes because he can still feel the lingering gaze of the alpha, well, no one else has to know.
There is less than an hour for FP3 to start and Charles is already bored out of his mind. He has already done some warmups, put on his race suit and has eaten a banana just because he has nothing better to do. He decides to walk around the paddock, see if he can find another driver to talk to, when he spots Jake Dennis at the Red Bull garage, talking to Max’s engineers.
Didn’t all the rookie drivers have their chance to drive in FP1? Charles frowns, looking around to see if Checo is also skipping this practice session. Why would Jake need to go again? Why would Max skip this session? Unless…
Charles walks up to where he can see Christian standing just outside the Red Bull garage, next to Checo and some other RBR personnel.
“Hi, Charles,” the older man greets him once he spots him walking towards him.
“Hey.” He waves at him and greets the other people present. “Can I talk to you?”
“Sure,” he easily agrees. They step away from where they can see most of the photographers gathered. “What can I help you with, kid?”
“I uh… I just wanted to ask how Max is doing.” He says, cheeks feeling hot all of a sudden. “I saw Dennis getting ready, so I uh… Is he not okay?”
Christian gives him a reassuring smile. “He didn’t sleep well last night, his fever didn’t break during the night, so when he showed up this morning I told him to take it easy and to stay in the hospitality. Rest for a bit until it’s time for qualifying, you know.”
“Good. Rest is… rest is good.” He internally cringes at his own awkwardness. Why is he being so awkward in front of the competition’s Team Principal? What happened to the strong headed omega from yesterday that stood up to an alpha in rut?
“Actually, Charles, could you do me a favor?” Chrsitian continues, unfazed by the omega's cringeworthy attitude. “Can you go check on him?”
“Check on him?” He repeats dumbly.
“The last few times we went into his room he growled at us, and since you were able to stand up to him… Could you, you know, make sure he is actually resting and not putting on his race suit or anything stupid like that.”
Why would Christian Horner, Team Principal of Red Bull Racing, ask him, Charles Leclerc, Ferrari’s number one driver, out of all people?
“Sure, I can do that.” He says without thinking.
Apparently when he said back in the post-qualifying press conference at COTA that he doesn’t think anymore, that he stopped thinking a long time ago, he meant it a little too much.
“I appreciate you doing this, kid.” He clasps him on the shoulder in thanks and walks away, leaving a dumbfounded Charles standing there.
How is this even Charles’ life? How did he get himself in this situation? His silly little crush apparently makes him do silly little things, such as grab a water bottle on the way to Red Bull’s motorhome to check on an alpha who isn’t interested in him.
He ignores the looks everyone sends his way as he walks into the motorhome, relying on his sense of smell to follow Max’s scent into his room. He lightly knocks on the door, not wanting to disturb Max in case he is asleep, but a muffled come in can be heard from the inside, so Charles walks into the room, closing the door behind himself.
The room reeks of Max´s intense black tea with hints of a winter storm, and absolute misery. Charles can only see the shape of where the alpha is, curled up on the bed and covered by a blanket up to his neck.
“Hey,” Charles softly announces himself. Blue eyes immediately snap up to meet his own.
Charles gulps down at the intensity that can be found in those ocean blue eyes of the alpha. He moves closer, fidgeting with the bottle in his hands. Max’s eyes focus on them and groans at the sight, mumbling something into the pillow that the omega doesn’t quite catch.
“What was that?” He asks, laughing awkwardly.
Max turns to look at him once again. “Stop bringing me water, I’m not a house plant.”
The comment startles a laugh out of the omega, the absurdity of the comparison making him laugh harder since he basically has been treating Max as if he were a house plant in need of regular watering sessions.
“Well, you are no plant but you still are an alpha in rut who only drinks red bulls.” He sets the bottle on the small table next to the bed, kneeling down so he is face to face with the blond man. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
Charles doesn’t mention that he also looks like shit, he’s not that mean no matter what his brothers say. He can see the sweat on the alpha’s forehead, the glassy look on his eyes.
“Why are you here?”
“Christian asked me to check on you. Guess I also wanted to make sure you’ll be able to drive in Quali, it won’t be fun if I don’t get the chance to steal pole position from you.”
Max huffs. “I can start from P20 and still win.”
Charles looks at him with an incredulous face. “Not with that fever you are not.”
Max simply groans in misery.
“You know, having the scent of an omega around can help you.” Charles comments, making the alpha glare at him from where he is still half hidden in the bed.
“If I had an omega, I wouldn't be suffering on my own.” Max points out.
“And someone from the grid?”
Max scrunches up his nose. “I’m not close with George or Yuki, Lando always smells like Carlos and Oscar. And yo— ” he stops himself, and Charles knows he was referring to him.
“And I what?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. Looking very much like the puppy he fell in love with back in Los Angeles.
“I don’t want to bother you more than I have.”
Meaning he would be okay if Charles were to leave his scent around.
Charles simply hums in acknowledgment, fidgeting with the leather bracelet he has been wearing on his right wrist for the past two years non-stop. Under the watchful gaze of Max, the omega takes the bracelet off and with gentle hands he grabs ahold of one of the alpha’s, carefully putting the bracelet on the wrist, securing it in place next to Max’s Cartier’s love bracelets.
“Wrists hold a lot of our scents, so this should help you through today and tomorrow.” He says, not really looking him in the eye, cheeks feeling hotter by the second. Charles only looks up when strong fingers wrap around his own wrist, holding him in place.
“Why?” Max asks, without letting go.
Charles simply shrugs. “Why not?”
With a surge of new found bravery, Charles moves the hand Max is still holding, running his fingers through the sweaty blonde locks, before he rests it on the alpha’s forehead, noticing how he immediately relaxes.
Omegas tend to run cold, body temperatures much lower than alphas, except for when they are in heat. The contrast in temperature must feel like absolute heaven to the Dutchman.
“Mmm, that feels nice,” Max comments, words coming out a bit slurred as he melts back into the bed, eyes closed.
“One of the few advantages of being an omega, I guess.”
Max simply makes a noncommittal sound, simply chooses to relax back into the sheets of the small uncomfortable bed, finally unwinding. Charles, for his part, alternates between cooling the alpha’s forehead with his hand and running his fingers through his hair, slowly but surely lulling the alpha to sleep.
Once he senses the alpha is on the verge of falling asleep he retreats his hand so he can leave with time to spare to begin FP3, but instead Max’s eyes fly open, a hand snatching his to keep him in place once again.
“I have to go.”
“Why?” He asks the same way a stubborn child would when they are told they can’t have any more candy.
Charles tries not to be endeared by it.
“Because I still have a job to do.” He comments with a small chuckle. Still, the alpha keeps his hold on him. “Max,” he calls him softly, “you have to let go of me.”
Max immediately does. “Right, sorry. I, uh… Sorry for being weird.” He says looking down, shifting around in the small uncomfortable bed.
Charles doesn’t like how the alpha’s whole demeanor changes, scent growing just slightly sour. The omega is back on his knees next to Max.
“No, Max, no. This isn’t weird, this is just…”
“Instincts,” Max finishes for him.
Charles runs his fingers through the alpha’s blond hair a couple more times, to make him relax once again, before he lightly presses the inner part of his wrist on the side of Max’s head, scenting him.
“Rest some more, okay? I will see you in Quali.”
Charles ends up getting pole position while Max gets to start from P5. But none of that matters when on Sunday's race Max crosses the line first and Charles comes less than a tenth after him. But Charles doesn’t really care, not when the alpha had won the championship a few races back, and it’s only natural for Max to still come out on top even when amidst a rut, to show everyone just how good he is.
And if Charles basks in the attention Max pays him during the podium and the post race conference then that is just for Charles to know.
“Charles!”
The omega and his PR team stop and turn around to see the Red Bull driver run towards him. Charles instructs his team to continue without him in rapid Italian before focusing on the blond alpha.
“Go out with me.” He blurts out once he stands in front of Charles.
What?! Did he hear correctly?
“What?” He asks dumbly.
“When we are back in Monaco, have dinner with me.”
“Why?”
“I want to thank you for what you did.”
Charles frowns, a bit put off. “You don’t have to.”
“But I want to.”
“If you want to thank me, send me flowers or something, you don’t have to ask me out.”
Max looks exasperated and Charles doesn’t understand why.
“Fine, I’ll send you flowers as a thank you for helping me. Will you still go on a date with me?”
“A date?”
“Yes.”
“Are you pulling my leg?”
“I mean, I would love to pull them apart but I would like for us to go on a date first.” He replies bluntly, making the omega blush furiously at the sexual implication.
“Max!” He hisses at him, looking around them to see if anyone heard the alpha’s words, making the blond laugh at his theatrics.
“Sorry, I couldn’t let it pass,” Max comments through a laugh. “But I mean it, I want you to go out on a date with me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He steps closer, lowering his voice. “So what do you say?”
Charles tries and fails not to smile. “I’m free this Friday.”
“Then I’ll pick you up at 7pm.” He winks at him before walking away.
“I’m not a passenger princess!” He yells after him, shaking his head as he smiles at the alpha’s antics.
Max turns around, walking backwards as he says “You will be that day!”
Charles laughs, happy with how this weekend has turned out. He never would have thought that stupidly standing up to Max so he wouldn’t start a fight with Charles’ teammate would lead to the omega being asked out on a date by his childhood crush.
This is a happy turn of events he can definitely get behind.