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1.
[2017]
"Finally, mate." Max whispers for the first time when he sees the notification on a December afternoon. The rumours have been around for a while now, but seeing them officially confirmed still feels special.
Max always knew it was only a matter of time before Charles reached Formula One. Max has made it, which meant that Charles was bound to end up in the most prestigious series sooner or later, too. That was always the basis, the axiom, the main principle of their equality.
For now it is Sauber, but Max is willing to bet on his own Monaco appartement, his car, his cap collection and three win trophies that Charles will only race in an outsider team for a year, two at most.
Max just needs to be patient a little longer. He has waited for three years, he can wait some more.
He learnt one important thing a long time ago. Some things are bound to happen. You just have to keep waiting.
When he gets the notification less than a year later, Max is not surprised.
"Leclerc to replace Räikkönen at Ferrari for 2019."
Max tries to suppress his bursting smile and feels his shoulders loosen. He takes a deep breath.
They would meet on the track again soon. This time on equal, as it should has always been.
He has missed him.
2.
[2019]
"Fucking finally, mate!" Max exclaims into the emptiness of his living room and even gets up from the couch to cross the space a couple of times to let out his jittery energy.
He has started to think he would never get an answer. He was worried that everything was ruined.
But it was not. Has it changed? For sure it has. But was it destroyed? Definitely not. They had been through too much to let their relationship break down because of racing.
They did not talk to each other much, but they could call themselves good acquaintances. Simple conversations about the weather, the track, the latest gossip. They would catch each other's eyes at drivers' parades and smile. They would see each other occasionally at Monaco, going to the bar to catch up.
Then Austria happened and suddenly Charles seemed to disappear. Max knew about the unfollowing, he unfollowed him back and pretended it did not hurt him. That was almost true. Charles could be petty if he wanted to. But he disappeared from their personal conversation too.
They still had a word with each other during the weekend, they still went wheel to wheel, but after the race it felt as if Charles did not exist outside of the track. He had not responded to any good luck wishes, silly memes, or invitations to spend time together.
Max had almost given up hope. He has not sent him anything in almost a month.
The season was long over. Christmas was approaching. Charles finally answered.
"Hey, Max! I know I've been out of touch for a while, but I needed that time, I hope you understand. I have a free evening tonight. If you're in Monaco, do you want to meet up?"
Some things are bound to happen. He just has to trust the time to heal the resentments and wait.
Max takes a few breaths, trying to calm himself down. He does not want to sound desperate. But oh God, how he has missed him!
"Of course I want to. The usual place?"
3.
[2022]
"Finally, mate." Flashes through Max's mind as he overtakes Charles at the end of the straight in Bahrain and takes the race lead at the first corner.
Max knows this is far from over. He feels that his opponent this year has a car worthy of fighting for the title. He waits for a counter attack and by turn four, Charles is back in front.
Max is as much on the limit as his car as they swap positions again, lap after lap trying to snatch victory out of the hands, from under the wheels of their rival.
More than two years had passed since their last battles. There was the epidemic, the isolation, the victories, the first title, the crash at Silverstone. There had been messages. There were questions, how are you doing?
There were no battles.
For two years, he rarely found Charles by his side on track. Despite the fact that Charles is driving for a top team now, Ferrari is still Ferrari. They always have amazing talents. All they do is fuck them up.
But there is hope for Max this time. Because some things are bound to happen. Maybe Ferrari have finally sorted out the problems with the car out. Maybe this is the year when his battle for the title will not be dirty and brutal but clean and exciting.
They have respect. They play by fair rules. They are gentle when pushing each other to the limits.
His engine fails on lap fifty-four of the race. Max has to worry about the team, about the lack of reliability of the car, about the lost victory, about the essential points.
The only thing he really cares about is missing three laps of a possible wheel-to-wheel battle with Charles.
Maybe, just maybe, a shared podium and champagne spraying, too.
Because he missed him.
4.
[2024]
"Finally, mate." For the first time Max says this to Charles' face, clasping their palms together in a firm handshake.
Charles won Monaco. His home race. After so many years of bad luck at this circuit, when people started calling this race cursed for him, Charles proved that any curse can be beaten.
Max smiles at him happily but softly, personally even, as he interrupts the interview and the camera still records what is happening. He wraps his arms tightly around Charles' shoulders, patting him on the back a couple of times. Max feels Charles' hands linger on his waist as he pulls away.
Their embrace passes quickly. Swifter than usual, getting in public for the first time. But this is not the first time they have found each other in their arms.
Max held him just as close in 2022, when his title hopes began to dissolve in the series of troubles. He held him during his nervous breakdown after Le Castillet, he listened to him after Silverstone. Max was there for him in 2023, saw his rage after the disqualification, hugged him as tight in the futility of Brazil.
All this time, Max was always just here.
Charles' thoughts suddenly freeze, coming to one simple but important conclusion.
Some things are bound to happen. Maybe they are one of those things.
Max feels his heart beating abnormally fast, his cheeks blushing, but he forces the words out, "Very impressive."
Charles smiles at him, thanking.
He looks so beautiful. Glorious. Fulfilled.
"Victory suits you, Charlie," Max thinks, standing behind him, waiting for his own interview.
He finds him later at the club to congratulate again.
Everyone wants a piece of Charles today and gets one, but Charles himself is only waiting for one person.
Charles laughs vividly, too many drunk glasses of champagne and cocktails playing in him, a ghastly mixture that makes him act more loosened up, limbs heavy and worse for control.
Charles notices him immediately and Max does not have time to say anything when Charles abruptly covers them both with a huge Monaco flag, takes Max by the hand and drags him somewhere through the crowd.
Max does not resist, following him blindly.
When they find themselves in some dark alcove at the back of the club, Max's back pressed against the cold wall and Charles' lips on his, kissing on the contrast so blatantly and hotly... When their ragged breaths mingle, fingers tangling and pulling at the hair to then get under the shirt as the Monaco flag falls at their feet... When Max pulls Charles closer by the waist, one simple but important realisation comes to him.
This is what he has been missing in his life. He will not let go again.
5.
[2026]
"FINALLY, MATE!" Max screams so loudly, he may have deafened himself.
Celebratory fireworks explode over Vegas as Max catches Charles in a tight embrace. He picks him up and does a spin around his axis, knowing that Charles' legs are bent at the knees and drawing a perfect circle in the air.
This is the year when everything finally falls into place. The year Charles wins his first Formula One title. The year when he beats Max on track, when he brings back the glory to Ferrari, when he finally becomes a world champion.
Max sets him back on the ground and leans close so that their helmets clash as if in a kiss. He does not let go of Charles' shoulders, running his thumbs over his fireproofs. His words are barely audible muffled by the roar of the crowd.
"It was a fair fight. You've earned it. Now enjoy it, baby. I'm proud of you."
Charles only nods and behind the raised visor Max can see his eyes full of tears.
Max raises his hand and pats his boyfriend on the helmet where his cheek would have been.
There will still be time for only the two of them to celebrate, but for now the others need the attention of the newly crowned champion.
Standing on the podium, Max looks up at Charles' profile. His hair is dishevelled, his cheeks glistening in feverish sweat and tears but a wide smile plays across his face. Max knows he is going to get scolded by his PR team, but it does not stop him, as he cannot take his eyes off Charles the whole time Monégasque and Italian anthems play.
Charles' wins are finally in double digits and Max is sure they will soon to be counted in the dozens. Max has seen him on the podiums, seen him after his wins, seen him after Monaco. But never has Charles looked so victorious, so invincible.
People were right to call him predestined. After all, some things are bound to happen.
Max lost the title this year.
He will miss the number "1" on his car next year.
But that is okay. He still has time to get his number back and he is not going to give it up easily.
He is called inevitable for a reason.
+1
[2032]
It is a lovely day when they decide to go out to sea on their yacht. Max nearly worries himself to a panic attack, when he tries to think of every detail, to make everything perfect, just as his boyfriend deserves.
Still Charles' reaction confuses him.
"Fucking finally, mate!" Charles gasps as Max kneels down in front of him with a small red box in his hands. The ring shimmers in the sunlight and Max is so shocked that the words get stuck in his mouth.
"Don't mate me when I'm on my knees!" The only thing that comes to his mind.
Charles laughs and sinks down to the yacht floor beside him. "Sorry, sorry, mon amour, mon cœur, mon cher, yes! I will marry you." Charles reaches for the ring, but Max makes an indignant noise and pulls a box a bit back to him.
"I haven't even asked you yet!"
"Then ask me already!" Charles pouts at him.
"So impatient." Max fondly rolls his eyes and asks softly. "Charles, will you marry me?"
"Of course I will, Max," Charles chuckles and pitches forward to steal a sweet kiss from his lover's lips. He then holds out his hand for Max to slip the ring onto his finger. "We've been together for eight years, I started to wonder if it’s you, who’s waiting for a proposal, but when I asked, you said –"
"Don't you dare."
"Exactly." Charles points at him with his free hand.
They sit in silence for a few seconds, watching the diamonds shimmer. The ring fits perfectly and looks natural on Charles' hand.
"I just wanted to wait until you retire and we’re not obliged to travel to the countries that are not safe for us." Max says quietly and looks up at him, biting his lip a little nervously.
Charles notices it and tries to reassure him immediately. He cups his face with his hand and the metal scratches cold against his cheek. Charles smiles gently at him. "I know, mon chou. You just really made me wait for it. But the patience is always worth it with you."
Charles kisses Max tenderly and pulls him close to him, whispering, "I love you."
Max tells him the same thing in return.
Some things are just bound to happen.
Perhaps their whole story is one of them.