Work Text:
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“The stop lights, a familiar drive”
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Max isn’t entirely sure he’s awake right now. His hands are in the wheel. His suit is rubbing on his skin. His helmet is hot with sweat. And Christian is screaming something he’s been wanting to hear his whole life.
“Max Verstappen, you are the world champion!”
The haze continues as he parks the car and is immediately bombarded by his team. Bodies are jumping all around him, he’s being hugged, suddenly he’s being held in the air. And before he knew it he’s on a podium being given the trophy he’s been wanting to hold his whole life. But despite hearing the Dutch national anthem, thousands cheering, and feeling the champagne pour down his shirt. He still looks over at Lewis.
Max is not an idiot. He knows Lewis is hurting, you can see it in his eyes. Eyes Max has spent a a lot of these past months looking into. And even though this should be the most important day in his life. Making Lewis’ pain go away is more important. That’s what happens when you fall in love, no matter how hard you pretend it’s always the first thing on your mind.
Max hates it. You’d think you would love being in love, and Max’s heart does. Max can feel his heart heal a little bit every time Lewis kisses him, or touches him, or even fucking looks at him. But Max’s brain ruins it all with the truth. The truth that even though things are good right now, and he is falling in love, soon enough Lewis will leave. And he will hit the ground.
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“Alone, so your losing your mind tonight”
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That’s how he ends up on Lewis porch. Slightly buzzed from doing the minimum amount of partying possible before ditching the team. It’s late, logically Lewis would be sleeping this one off, ignoring anyone and everyone. But Lewis knows just as much as Max does that he would be here tonight. The door opens finally, Lewis barely looks at him before waking into the house, leaving the door open as an invitation. Max heart clenches at the action.
Lewis is staring at him from across the kitchen counter, expression unreadable. Max leans against the counter casually, and tries to breathe slow and deep. Lewis doesn’t need to know how scared he is right now.
“I’m s-“
“No. Don’t apologize” Lewis voice is sharp, his words sharper. Not aimed to cut Max though. Instead they shave his skin rippling goosebumps up his toned arms. Max’s eyes search Lewis face rapidly, searching for something, anything.
“Ok then. How are you doing” Max rephrases, and Lewis lets out a dry laugh.
“Pretty shit Max” Lewis says his name like he’s a stranger, and Max’s heart grows impossibly more tight.
“Are you mad at me” Max asks, more emotion evident in his voice than he originally intended. Lewis is quick to answer.
“Of course not” Lewis says, his voice suddenly softer. Like he’s realizing Max is more delicate than he originally thought.
“You should know by now I’ll never be mad at you” Max feels butterflies fly around his stomach, making him want to move as close to Lewis as he can.
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“When your heart aches and it’s dead in the night”
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Lewis and Max are so close now. Max’s back is pressed up against the counter and he can feel the other man’s breath on his face.
“What are you thinking Lewis” Max asks him, he doesn’t answer. But his body language is enough to tell Max something is wrong. His lips are pursed, the lips Max has turned red a few weeks ago when they both had enough tequila to think it’s a good idea. His hands are shaking, the hands Max held on a rainy day in spa. His shoulders are tense, the shoulders he cried into after he told Lewis about his childhood. The silence continued to drag on, and Lewis made no attempt to speak.
“I’m sorry you didn’t win” Max whispers finally, this time Lewis lets him.
“I’m sorry I’m not as good as you” Lewis says, his voice sad. Max is taken aback by the vulnerability.
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“Guess you take all the pain that you think you deserve”
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“What do you mean? You’re so much better than me in every way” Max asked him, stroking his cheek as Lewis hands fall to Max’s waist. Max is being honest, he doesn’t deserve Lewis. He doesn’t even fucking have him, but to be this close to him is more than he ever imagined.
“I didn’t understand how we were working these past months” Lewis begins, and Max is sent into memories of the past few months. Drunkenly making out on Lewis’ couch only to stop to watch a silly little movie. The action telling them both this is not a one night thing. Images of deep conversations over each other’s cooking, balanced out by them both collapsing in fits of laughter over stupid jokes. Flashbacks of sneaking around the paddock to kiss each other in secret. The scene of them discussing what they are, and deciding not to label. Not for any good reasons but fear.
“I’ve been so fucking happy with you Max, the happiest that I’ve ever been. But you’re incredible, you’re funny, humble, young, beautiful, kind, talented, soft, and the person I’ve dreamed of spending my life with. I’m so fucking in love with you it scares me” Lewis’ words hit Max like a train. If Lewis grip on him wasn’t so strong he would surely crumble.
“Now you’re world champion, why would you ever settle for me” Lewis finishes and Max heart breaks at his words. He knows the feeling, because that’s how he’s felt for so long. Sure that Lewis would be knocked out of this trance and leave for someone better.
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“I’m the worst if you want it”
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“Oh baby, I’m not settling” Max whispers, looking into Lewis’ deep brown eyes.
“You’re perfect. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of and when I fell in love with you I was so god damn scared because I knew I would keep falling more and more and it would kill me the day you inevitably leave because I’m not enough ” Max admits, leaving Lewis eyes wide.
“you’re enough” Lewis whispers like he’s trying to cement it in his brain.
“You are too. Even just your love is enough”
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“Fainted love, that's enough, fainted love”
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Suddenly as there lips are connected everything is so clear. Max can feel every touch on his skin amplified as Lewis presses into him. He can feel his lovers braids on his fingertips, Lewis hands running up and down his torso. Tongues dancing in perfect balance as they step toward the bedroom. Their limbs follow an intricate choreography of intimacy on their own as the two men are too busy trying to soak up all of each other. Max’s back makes contact with the bed softly as Lewis lowers him down gently, their lips not separating for even a second.
Once they do finally separate, Lewis remains hovering over Max as they take in all of each other. Max practically faints at the realization that the man above him is his, really his.
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“I want your fainted love that’s enough fainted love”
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