Chapter Text
-Glimpse of Us-
Max is busy, and Charles is even busier; that’s the sad reality of married life for the two most influential figures in Formula One. Their days are filled with endless meetings, rigorous training sessions, and relentless travel schedules, leaving little room for the quiet moments of intimacy they both crave.
Charles often finds himself buried under a mountain of paperwork, his sleek desk cluttered with technical reports and race strategies. His phone buzzes incessantly with updates from his team, his calendar packed with appointments, and his mind constantly racing even off the track. His evenings are no less hectic, often spent in video conferences or analysing data late into the night.
Max, on the other hand, is no stranger to the relentless demands of their high-octane lifestyle. When he's not tearing up the racetrack, he's locked in intense meetings with engineers, sponsors, and media personnel. His days are a blur of physical training, strategy sessions, and endless travel from one race location to another. The rare moments he can steal away are often disrupted by urgent calls or last-minute obligations.
Charles: Mi amour, I wanted to see you. I don’t want to work anymore
Max: Then don’t, I told you, quit your job.
Charles: Amore! You should tell me to continue working!
Max: Why? Just quit your job or I’ll buy your place because you weren’t home like a good wife
Charles: It’s a mistake talking about my work with you
Max: Come down now, I brought you coffee, hazelnut non?
Charles: Max, I’m in Milan! Weren’t you supposed to be at Austria? Your shooting
Max: *send pictures
Charles: Max Emilian!!!
For the second time, Max had appeared unannounced at Charles’s workplace, this time outside the chic Milanese gelato parlour that served as his second office when not at Ferrari HQ. The sun glinted off the polished chrome of Max’s car as Charles hurriedly tugged him inside.
“You’re crazy! What if people find out?” Charles hissed, shooting a quick text to his staff about an urgent matter.
“What did you want me to do? You’re always working...” Max’s protest was silenced by a kiss, soft but insistent.
“That’s just one kiss! You owe me a thousand...” Max’s words were cut off again by another kiss, deeper this time.
“998 kisses left,” Charles whispered against Max’s lips, their foreheads touching, both men smiling.
Max’s heart raced as Charles straddled his lap, his hands finding their way to Max’s cheeks, caressing him with a tender familiarity that melted away the day’s stresses. The two men sat in the confined space of the car, the outside world disappearing as they lost themselves in each other.
“You have what you need now, so,” Charles’s hands covered Max’s on the steering wheel, his voice a sultry whisper. “What’s for me? Honey.”
Max blushed, his heart full. “Anything you want, Mon amour.”
Charles chuckled beautifully, his laughter a rare and precious sound. His eyes locked onto Max’s veiny arms, then darted to his neck, where he leaned in to suck a light bruise, his eyes glimmering with mischief.
“God, that’s not a proper way to greet your husband, Charles,” Max murmured, his voice tinged with playful reproach.
“Whatever,” Charles replied with a grin before kissing him again, this time licking and biting Max’s bottom lip.
“See?” Charles said, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction as he admired the visible marks left from his lips.
Max couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through him. Charles looked happier, a contentment that only their closeness could bring, even amidst the chaos of their lives.
“Charles, you should stop teasing me, sweetheart,” Max said, starting the engine and merging onto the highway. The roar of the engine filled the car, but it did little to drown out the tension between them.
“You left me after our wedding; it’s only fair, Max,” Charles retorted, his tone playful but with an edge of genuine hurt.
“A month without sex isn’t fair, Charles,” Max countered, glancing over at his husband.
“Well, amour, you can undress me here if that’s your intention in seeking me,” Charles challenged, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Max's eyes widened as he caught sight of Charles through the windshield. The black lace of his lingerie was just visible enough to contrast starkly against his skin, the delicate fabric teasingly peeking out from beneath his shirt.
“Charles, sometimes I wonder why you’re a Formula One driver when you’re so pretty being a wife.”
“Fuck you,” Charles laughed, the sound light and carefree, filling the car with a rare moment of joy amidst the tension.
“Stop tempting your husband, Charles. I’m taking you on an evening date or I’ll pull over and we’ll never make it to our date”
“Well, Max Emilian, you’re the only person who knows what our late evenings are like,” Charles replied, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper.
“I can’t believe this. You’re giving me a headache, Schatje.”
“Amour,” Charles said, his voice a low purr as he intentionally slipped down his coat to let Max clearly see the lace, “this is what the biggest headache in your life looks like.”
Max's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he tried to keep his focus on the road, his eyes repeatedly drifting back to Charles. “Yeah, Schatje. And I’m thankful it looks like my money well spent.”
“Of course!” Charles replied enthusiastically, his voice filled with excitement and a hint of mischief.
Max sighed heavily, trying to control his eagerness as humanly and gently as he could. His fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel, the tension palpable as they sped down the highway.
“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” Max muttered, his eyes flicking over to Charles, who was still grinning mischievously.
Charles leaned closer, his breath warm against Max’s ear. “I like keeping you on your toes, Max. Keeps things interesting.”
Max swallowed hard, his mind racing faster than his car. “You’re impossible,” he said, though his tone was softened by affection.
“And you love me for it,” Charles shot back, his hand resting on Max’s thigh, adding to the electric tension in the car.
Max’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheel, trying to focus on the road ahead. “You have no idea how much.”
“Oh, I think I do,” Charles whispered, his voice low and teasing. “But you can show me more when we get to our destination.”
Max’s heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation nearly overwhelming. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Charles.”
Charles laughed, the sound light and carefree. “That’s what makes it fun, amour.”
Max sighed again, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Just promise me you’ll behave until we get there.”
“I make no promises,” Charles replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Max couldn’t help but smile, despite the challenge ahead. “You’re going to be the death of me, Charles.”
“Only in the best possible way,” Charles said, leaning in for another quick kiss, their lips brushing together before he pulled back with a satisfied smile.
They arrived at a quaint village, where Max had rented a house near the lake with a stunning view of the ice-capped mountains. The scenery was mesmerizing, a picture of serene beauty that seemed almost unreal. The lake's surface mirrored the majestic peaks, and the crisp, fresh air was a welcome contrast to the hustle and bustle of their usual surroundings.
Max parked the car and glanced over at Charles, who had dozed off during the drive. He looked peaceful, his features softened by sleep. Not wanting to wake him abruptly, Max leaned in and began planting gentle kisses on Charles's forehead, cheeks, and finally his lips. Each kiss was a tender whisper, coaxing Charles back to reality.
Charles stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he slowly succumbed to the present. The deep blue of his eyes was slightly unfocused, and a sleepy smile curled his lips. "Max..." he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
"It's 7 in the evening, Mon amour," Max said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Charles's face. "We're here."
Charles blinked, the surroundings gradually coming into focus. The view outside the car window took his breath away. "Max, this place is incredible," he said, his voice filled with awe.
Max smiled, pleased with Charles's reaction. "I thought we could use a break from everything. Just the two of us, away from the chaos."
Charles nodded, still taking in the breathtaking scenery. "It's perfect."
They got out of the car, the cool evening air waking Charles up further. The house was charming, with large windows that offered a panoramic view of the lake and mountains. Inside, it was cosy and inviting, with a crackling fireplace and comfortable furnishings that made it feel like a home away from home.
Max led Charles to the living room, where they stood by the window, taking in the view. "I thought we could have dinner by the lake," Max suggested, his arm wrapping around Charles's waist.
Charles leaned into Max, his head resting on his shoulder. "That sounds wonderful."
They spent the evening enjoying a simple but delicious meal by the lake, the sound of water lapping against the shore providing a soothing backdrop. The sky turned shades of pink and orange as the sun set behind the mountains, casting a warm glow over everything.
Max talked about everything and Charles more than happy to listen. Their tranquillity was abruptly shattered by the shrill ring of Max's phone. He frowned, glancing at the screen. "Sorry, love," he murmured, gently squeezing Charles' hand before answering. The initial call quickly escalated into a flurry of notifications, then a group call, and soon, an emergency meeting. The serene evening they had been enjoying was swiftly replaced by the demands of Max's responsibilities.
Max now sat at the polished mahogany worktable, his MacBook open, earpods in place, his brow furrowed in concentration as he engaged in the late-night discussions. Charles watched him, a soft smile playing on his lips despite the interruption. He reached out, caressing Max's arm with a touch that was tender and filled with pride. Max glanced up, meeting Charles' eyes, and his expression softened. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to Charles' temple. "I'm sorry, love," he whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I didn't mean for my work to ruin our evening."
Charles shook his head, his gaze warm and understanding. "It's okay, Max. I understand." He stood up, and for a moment, Max feared that Charles might be upset. But as Charles disappeared into the bedroom, Max's heart sank, thinking he had disappointed him. A few minutes later, Charles returned, having changed into his comfortable pyjamas, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of tea. He set the tray down, handed one of the cups to Max, and sat back down beside him. "I'm so proud of you," he said softly, his eyes shining with earnestness.
After what felt like an eternity, the frantic discussion between Christian and Newey reached a boiling point, their voices clashing like thunder. Max seized the opportunity to take a brief respite, slipping away to the living room. He hoped to find a moment of solace, a break from the chaotic demands of the night. As he stepped into the living room, he was met with an unexpected sight. Charles sat on the edge of the sofa, his expression a mirror of Max’s own weary focus. The large TV screen now served as a second monitor, displaying a heated argument among the Ferrari team members.
Max’s heart melted at the sight. Only moments ago, he had found comfort in Charles’ presence, the gentle embrace and understanding gaze that always soothed his worries. But now, the same man who had been by his side was engrossed in his own set of urgent responsibilities. Max approached quietly, watching as Charles deftly steered the emergency calls, his voice calm and authoritative despite the tension crackling through the screen. A pang of sympathy and admiration coursed through Max. He understood the pressures and the demands, and seeing Charles handle it all with such grace only deepened his affection.
“Sorry,” Max murmured softly, his voice barely audibles over the ongoing discussions. Charles glanced up, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. He reached out, squeezing Max’s hand reassuringly.
The meetings dragged on for three gruelling hours, each minute sapping their energy and leaving them more drained than before. Max felt the exhaustion settle into his bones as the final call ended, the screen of his MacBook dimming to a black void. He rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the headache that had been building for the past hour, and then quietly made his way to their bedroom.
Pushing open the door, he was greeted by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting a warm, amber light across the room. There, amidst the rumpled sheets and pillows, lay Charles. His MacBook lay abandoned on the floor, its screen dark, and his earpods still nestled in his ears, a stark contrast to his peaceful, sleeping form.
Max's heart clenched at the sight. Charles now looked so vulnerable; the strain of the night etched into the faint lines on his face. Max approached quietly; his footsteps soft against the plush carpet. He gently removed the earpods from Charles’ ears, setting them aside on the nightstand, and then carefully lifted the MacBook from the floor, placing it on the table where it belonged.
For a moment, Max stood there, simply watching his husband sleep. Charles’ chest rose and fell with each steady breath, his lips slightly parted, a hint of a smile lingering as if even in dreams he found something to be happy about. Max couldn’t help but feel a surge of thankfulness and love for the man before him. Charles had endured the same exhausting night, yet here he was, having managed to hold it all together with his characteristic grace and strength. Max leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Charles’ forehead. “You did well, love,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Max slipped into bed beside Charles, careful not to disturb him. He wrapped an arm around his husband, drawing him close, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of his presence. Charles instinctively snuggled into him, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he settled against Max’s chest. As sleep began to claim him, Max whispered one last promise into the darkness, a vow that he would always cherish these moments, and the man who made them possible. “I love you, Charles,” he murmured, his words a tender caress against the night.
Max found himself once more in the depths of a vivid dream, a dream that transported him back to his younger self. In this dreamscape, he was overcome with a deep infatuation for Charles, the Monegasque who had captured his heart. It was a love that blossomed early, far earlier than he ever anticipated. Max’s realisation of his intense feelings for Charles came during one of their many spirited arguments. They often bickered, as rivals do, each fiercely competitive and determined to outdo the other. Yet, amidst the clash of words and wills, Max found himself valuing every word that Charles uttered. It was in those moments of conflict that he truly understood the depth of his affection.
Charles was the epitome of youthful naivety and boundless energy. He was full of life, a completely contrast to the cutthroat world they inhabited. Max often thought that if fate had not cast them as rivals, he would have chosen to remain by Charles's side, offering him unwavering support and love. In his heart, Max harboured a yearning to protect Charles, to shield him from the harsh realities of their world. He imagined a different life where he could give Charles the world, fulfilling every dream and desire. But reality often has a way of complicating such pure intentions. Love for the boy who had captured his heart so effortlessly, and regret for the circumstances that kept them apart.
"Darling, Max."
Max slowly succumbed to wakefulness, roused by the gentle, familiar touch of Charles. The warmth of the Monegasque's hand on his chest pulled him from the depths of his dreams.
"Christian, he’s calling."
Max sighed deeply. He had never hated his responsibilities more than in that moment, hearing his boss’s voice so early in the morning. He glanced at Charles, whose presence beside him was a contrast to the harshness of reality. Charles was beautiful, his features softened by the morning light. Since their wedding, Charles had become even more clingy whenever Max was around, and the Dutchman secretly adored this newfound affection. Letting the Monegasque wrapped his arms whenever opportunities arise.
“Yes, it’s me,” Max said into the phone, trying to keep his voice steady and professional despite the early hour.
Charles's eyes were etched with concern as he watched Max, worry evident in his gaze. Max smiled back sympathetically, signalling with a reassuring nod that nothing was seriously wrong. At least, nothing seemed critical until the call escalated. Christian's voice on the other end became more urgent, prompting Max to ask Charles for a paper and pen. Charles moved swiftly, handing Max the requested items. As the conversation continued, Max found himself jotting down notes, his brow furrowing with concentration. Moments later, he asked for his MacBook. The situation had clearly intensified, and now they were transitioning to an impromptu meeting.
Max looked utterly drained by the end of the call, exhaustion etched deeply into his features. He searched for Charles and found him in the kitchen, meticulously preparing breakfast at their table.
"Are you done, my love?" Charles asked, his voice gentle and soothing.
"Schatje, it seems we have to get back early to Milton Keynes," Max admitted, the irritation from listening to Christian's demands slipping into his tone.
"That's fine, sit down, Mon amour," Charles replied, his calmness contrasting with Max's frustration. Max felt a pang in his heart, the intensity of it almost overwhelming. Was this the reality of their marriage? He felt like a liar, having promised to spend the day with the Monegasque only to be called away so soon.
"You're not mad, Schatz?" Max asked, a hint of guilt in his voice.
"You are a Formula One driver, Mon amour. It's a privilege," Charles said with a reassuring smile.
Max sighed deeply, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Charles, it would be better if you just threw a tantrum like a wife would rather than suppress everything."
Charles looked at him with understanding eyes. "But I’m your beautiful and thoughtful wife, believe me, Mon amour. I know where to put myself."
Max inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. Charles's words, filled with tenderness and acceptance, struck a chord within him. Despite the demands of his career, Charles's untiring encouragement and understanding made Max realise just how fortunate he was. He reached out, taking Charles's hand in his, and squeezed it gently, grateful for the man who stood by him, even when their lives were far from perfect.
"Where do you want to go?" Max asked Charles, his voice filled with genuine curiosity. He hoped they could spend the rest of the day together before their flight back to the UK.
Charles hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Max's face. "Do you really have to go?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. Max felt a pang of guilt and immediately jolted from his seat. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, kneeling beside Charles and taking his hands in his own.
"I'm so sorry, Schatje," Max said earnestly, his eyes locking with Charles's. "I hate having to leave you so soon. I wish we could stay here together, just the two of us."
Charles squeezed Max's hands gently, his expression softening. "I know, Mon amour. It's just hard sometimes." Max nodded, understanding the unspoken emotions behind Charles's words. "Let's make the most of the time we have now," he said, his voice resolute. "Tell me where you want to go, and we'll do it. Anything you want, Charles."
Charles's eyes lit up with excitement, his earlier sadness melting away. "Actually, there's something I've always wanted to try before we leave. How about boating on the lake?"
Max's smile widened, feeling a surge of warmth at Charles's enthusiasm. "Let's do it."
Charles's happiness was infectious, and Max felt his own spirits lift as they made their way to the nearby lake. The serene waters stretched out before them, reflecting the azure sky above. The tranquillity of the scene promised a peaceful escape, if only for a few hours. They found a small boat to rent, and with minimal instruction, they set off into the stillness of the lake. As they glided over the glassy surface, Charles's laughter echoed softly, harmonising with the gentle lapping of water against the boat. Max couldn't help but admire the way Charles's face lit up with joy, his earlier worries momentarily forgotten.
"This is incredible, Max!" Charles exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with delight as he took in the expansive view around them. Max's heart swelled with tenderness as he watched Charles. "I agree Schatz," he replied, carefully steering the boat. The view was undoubtedly beautiful, a picturesque scene of serene waters and a sky painted with the hues of twilight. Yet, Max's eyes lingered solely on Charles. The Monegasque's face was illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun, his features etched with contentment and joy. Max just there, admiring the moments close to his heart. Charles turned towards Max, his eyes reflecting the golden light, filled with a mixture of happiness and something deeper, an understanding that this moment was momentary. Max reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Charles’s forehead, his fingers lingering on his skin.
"You look breathtaking, Schatje," Max said softly, his voice tinged with emotion. "I wish I could keep you here, just like this, forever."
Their peace was quickly replaced by the bustling chaos of the airport. The tranquillity of the lake felt like a distant memory as they steered through the throngs of people, each in their own hurried world. Charles had decided to stay a bit longer, needing some time to himself, which meant he was now faced with the bittersweet task of seeing Max off. They stood together near the departure gate, the constant announcements and chatter creating a noisy backdrop to their private moment. Charles tried to hold onto the calm they had shared earlier, but the reality of their impending separation loomed large. Max turned to Charles, his expression a mix of determination and regret. "Look, Charles… I wish I didn't have to go, Schatje," he said, his voice barely audibles above the din.
Charles managed a small smile, reaching up to straighten Max's collar. "I know, Mon amour. But we'll make it work. We always do."
Max pulled Charles into a tight embrace, holding him as if he could somehow imprint this moment into his memory. The world around them blurred, the noise fading into the background as they focused solely on each other.
"I'll call you as soon as I land," Max promised, his voice thick with feeling.
Charles nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'll be waiting."
“Schatje, take care of yourself okay. I’ll be sure to be at home as soon as possible, please eat regularly. Call me if anything happened.” They held onto each other for a few more precious seconds before Max reluctantly pulled away. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable.
“Come on Mon amour, I know how to take care of myself.” Charles finally let go.
As Max walked towards the security checkpoint, he kept glancing back, unwilling to break the connection between them. Charles stood there, watching until Max was out of sight, the reality of their separation sinking in.
Charles didn't realise how he had ended up in the car. Just moments ago, Max had been beside him, but now the driver seat beside him was conspicuously empty. The fact that he had unconsciously taken the passenger seat, as if Max were still there, made the absence even more painful. His gaze shifted to the back seat, where a bouquet of roses lay, their vibrant petals a complete contrast to his gloomy mood. He laughed breathlessly, a hollow sound that echoed in the quiet of the car. The saying went that the more extravagant the gift, the more someone had cheated. Yet here they were, with Max Verstappen, who often gifted him flowers whenever he had to go away for a long time. It was Max's way of saying he was thinking of him, a gesture of affection and reassurance. But in this moment, the flowers felt like a cruel reminder of the distance now separating them.
"Jesus, this is getting worse," Charles murmured to himself, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. Finally, the dam broke. He cried, the tears flowing freely down his cheeks, each sob a release of the pent-up emotions he had held back. He had been strong for Max, maintaining a facade of composure so as not to make the parting harder than it already was. Max would have stayed if he sensed any discomfort from Charles, and Charles didn't want that. He didn't want to be the reason Max felt torn between his love and his responsibilities.
The ache of missing Max, the fear of the distance, the sadness of parting, and the overwhelming love he had for him. It all poured out. The roses in the back seat seemed to blur through his tears, their presence a bittersweet symbol of Max's love. Charles reached back and grabbed one of the blooms, holding it close as if it could somehow bridge the gap between them.
"I miss you already," he whispered to the empty car, his voice breaking. "I miss you so much."
The reality of their lives meant that these moments of separation were inevitable, but that didn't make them any easier. Charles knew that their love was strong, that they would endure this just as they had endured everything else. But right now, in this moment of solitude, he allowed himself to feel the full weight of his heartache, knowing that it was a sign of just how deeply he loved Max.