Archive of Our Own

It would be an exaggeration to say that Charles hated Max.

He didn’t hate that boy; he just didn’t like him very much. But it was only after 7-year-old Max had declared that baby Mick loved him more than Charles.

Still, when Seb asked Charles to partner up with Max for an upcoming mission, he just couldn’t say no.

“Why not Carlos?” Charles demanded. Seb often paired him and Carlos for missions; they worked well together, their magic complemented each other, and Carlos was one of the few wizards Charles could actually stand. Sure, they definitely had their fair share of arguments, but nothing unsalvageable. Carlos really knew his stuff too; his inputs for the mission were actually useful and constructive, unlike, you know, some people like Max.

“Carlos is one of the delegates that Fernando chose to accompany him to Spain, and they’re heading there tonight,” Seb said with an eyebrow rising. They were inside the older man's office; Seb was sitting behind his desk while Charles dutifully stood in front of him. “You know that, don’t you?”

He felt a wave of shame wash over him. Charles didn’t know; he forgot to check the bulletins today. “Of course, I know!”

“Alright then,” Seb carried on. “So, you and Max will go to the abandoned warehouse at-”

“What about George?”

Seb let out a sigh and placed the mission scroll on his table. “George isn’t around until next week. Lewis brought him along to check out and oversee the new set for the ‘Say Yes to the Robe’ show.”

Charles frowned in confusion. “What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a reality show. Honestly, Charles, they’re on their third season already!” Seb scolded him. “But anyway, where was I again? Right, your mission. The abandoned warehouse is being suspected as-”

“Lando, then?” Charles cut desperately.

“Mark wants Lando to help Oscar with some healing spells.” Seb wrinkled his nose. “The last time Oscar tried to heal someone with hypothermia, he actually thought hypothermia was that guy’s name. Anyway, your mission-”

“Pierre?”

“Charles,” Seb said. “Max already agreed to do this mission, so you will go with him.”

Charles blinked his eyes repeatedly in shock. “Wait, he said yes?”

“To the robe? No.” Seb laughed at his own joke, while Charles let out a groan, clearly annoyed by his master. “Of course, he said yes to the mission. He’s a professional, Charles, unlike you right now, to be honest.”

“I am a professional!”

“Really?” Seb raised an eyebrow, amused. “Then you’ll take the mission, yes?”

Charles hesitated for a second. He had a lot of respect for High Wizard Sebastian Vettel; he truly did. Seb was his mentor, his master. The man had taken him in when no one else wouldn’t because of his destructive magic nature. So naturally, Charles was eager to please his mentor. He almost couldn’t say no to his demand.

Well, except for that one time when Seb had called an emergency on him in the middle of the night just to ask Charles to buy some condoms and lube supplies because he and Kimi ran out of them.

But to go on a mission with Max of all people? A few weeks after the disastrous incident involving that damned love spell Lewis invented?

Hell the fuck no.

“I know what’s on your mind.” Seb chided with a grin. “Think about it this way, then. How about you and Max use this opportunity to get to know each other better?”

“Tu as perdu la tête?" Charles yelled, hysterical. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you and Max apparently love-”

“It was a mistake.” Charles said coldly. “Something was wrong with the spell. I’m sure of it.”

Seb looked at him funny. “It’s Lewis Hamilton’s spell we’re talking about, you know that, right?”

Charles waved a hand. “People make mistakes sometimes.”

“But not Lewis.”

“Even Lewis.”

“Charles-” Seb started, clearly frustrated.

“You don’t get it, Seb. I can’t-” Charles paused, his entire body shaking like crazy, and he noticed the tips of his fingers starting to warm up with magic. “I cannot be in love with him.”

Seb looked really confused. “Why not?”

“Because he’s Max.”

“What the hell is wrong with that?”

Charles kept his silence.

Seb sighed. Among all the high wizards, he was typically the most understanding one, but even Sebastian Vettel has his limits. “Look, Charles, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but could you please just take this mission?” He nudged the scroll forward. “People are starting to think that the warehouse might be where some rogue wizards were keeping animals for sacrifice magic. I need you and Max to take a look. I know how much you love animals-”

“Alex also loves animals.” Charles mumbled.

Seb frowned. “Well, Alex also isn’t available right now because Jenson is taking him and Logan to the Council of Ostrich Legged Harpies as wizarding delegates. Seriously! Don’t you read the bulletins today?”

Charles suddenly developed an interest in his shoes.

“Nevertheless,” his mentor continued, and Charles knew he had lost the battle. “You and Max will go to the abandoned warehouse tonight. There will be no negotiation. Details about your mission are on the scroll. I suggest that you begin reviewing it now if you don’t want to be overwhelmed later.”

To say Charles would be overwhelmed by his mission was an understatement.

Max had argued all the way here that he should be the one holding the scroll because he couldn’t trust Charles with navigation. Charles, in turn, was deeply offended, but he didn’t say a thing because he knew it was the truth, and he hated Max and his annoyingly handsome face for that.

“You know,” said Max, “this isn’t at all what I thought an abandoned warehouse would look like.”

The two boys stood at the entrance to what Seb called the abandoned warehouse. Max was right; the building did not look like it was abandoned at all. The warehouse stood at the edge of an industrial estate but looked surprisingly intact and meticulously maintained. Its exterior was a smooth grey that seemed like it had just been painted, with no cracks or peeling anywhere on the walls. Large, gleaming windows lined one side, a curious detail for a place that should have fallen into disrepair by now. However, the drawn curtains seemed a bit dingy and like they could use a wash.

Charles gathered his magic in his hands, all set to unleash it. “Alright,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “Stand back, Max, we’ll probably have to burst down the door-”

But Max ignored him, reaching out his hand to give the knob a twist. “It’s not locked.” He said mildly, then without giving Charles another look, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Charles wanted to slap him, or kiss him, or slap and then kiss him so badly, but followed him nonetheless.

They found themselves in a grand foyer. Inside, the air felt strangely calm, almost too fresh, and Charles could catch a whiff of herbs mixed with a hint of incense drifting from the corners. Bright, glaring lights of the moon hung from the glass ceiling, illuminating the neat stacks of empty crates arranged in organised piles.

Both Charles and Max quickly stopped in their tracks cautiously. One look at each other was enough for them to understand what was going on. Those little, odd details hinted there was something darker going on. In the shadows, there were wooden cages, a few marked with old, dried blood. Charles could see some scratches and scuff marks on the floor, and by the way they were laid out, they looked more like claw marks than anything a person would leave behind. The shiny floor had bits of feathers and bones scattered around, quickly swept up but still hiding in the little corners and cracks.

“Well, here we are.” Charles said as he watched a group of blackbeetles scurry across the floor, frightened because of their sudden presences.

“This isn’t anything like what the scroll says,” Max said as he bent down to pick a small bone near his foot. “Dirty, yes, but abandoned? Meh. I’d say it’s the glamour.”

Every so often, a soft hum would drift through the space, the sort of sound that you could almost feel in your bones, more felt than heard. Charles could hear Max had drawn his sword out already, imbuing the silver iron with his magic. Max was one of a few wizards who preferred to use an object—in his case a sword—as a way to stabilise his magic output, and he was so goddamn good at it that the high wizards couldn’t help but streamline his promotion to join their ranks.

“But nothing’s here,” Charles said, staring around him in bewilderment. “Do you think they’ve figured out that we’re coming?”

“Most likely,” Max sighed. “Either they’re too powerful to notice or we have a mole inside.”

Charles scoffed at that. “Yeah, right.”

In return, Max shot him a glare. “Nothing is impossible, Leclerc.”

“I didn’t say anything about-”

“Did you hear that?” Interrupted Max; his posture immediately straightened in alertness, and Charles did as well. They both surged their magic at the same time while looking around, searching for any sign of movement. 

“It’s from there.” Charles said as he pointed out something in the middle of the room. The marble floor there had been painted with a series of necromantic patterns—a five-pointed star inside a circle inside a square; a pentagram. Inside the pentagram, a pool of dark substance that looked like blood seemed to emit large bubbles and a gurgling sound. Then, just as they were just starting to get closer, a mighty roar shot from the surface along with several tentacles and a big, slimy body that resembled an octopus.

“It’s a fucking Kraken!” Max shouted.

Charles’s jaw dropped as the demon’s tentacles were trashing wildly, knocking almost everything on its way, including empty crates and wooden boxes. When one of the tentacles nearly knocked them both off their feet, Charles yelled back at Max, “We have to keep him inside the pentagram!”

Max shouted again. “How?”

“We should split up,” Charles said. “You distract the creature, and I’ll ambush it from behind.”

“Why should I be the one who distracts him?”

“Just fucking do it!”

Max smacked his lips in disagreement, but he nodded anyway. “Fine, just don’t do anything stupid.” Then he leaped and started shouting while waving his arms up, trying to get the demon’s attention.

Charles cursed loudly as the Kraken started to climb over the pentagram, destroying the marbled stones around it and almost crushing the big columns that would bring the whole building down to the ground. He ran towards the demon, plunged his magic-imbued hands into one of the tentacles, and, with great difficulty, climbed it. The demon seemed to notice him, who was now sprinting while balancing his foot on its tentacle, and began howling, turning its body away from Max.

Since half of the demon’s body was still submerged, Charles greatly struggled to balance himself, especially when the demon’s body began to move erratically. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Max was moving towards one of the tentacles, and, with a look of conviction in his blue eyes, he sprang high and sliced the tentacle, just before the demon turned its body towards Charles. The Kraken let forth another terrible and deafening howl from its throat, and it whipped backward, almost making Charles to lose his footing.

“Max, you dimwit!” Charles yelped. “I told you to distract him, not to make him angry!”

“This is me distracting him from you, you fucker!” Max yelled back. Even in the middle of a battle, he still managed to look so ridiculously handsome. “You’re welcome!”

And it had worked. The demon’s attention had now been totally diverted back to Max again, who had successfully cut another tentacle. Charles paused for a while as he saw the front of Max’s gear was smeared with ichor—demon’s blood, and there was a bit of it in his hair as well. But Max, noticing his distress, yelled at him, “Go!” before he vanished behind the demon’s body, where he most certainly was about to cut another tentacle.

“Verdammt, this is depressing,” Charles said as he climbed up the demon’s slimy body. He drove his magic-imbued hand up, hard, into the side of its body. “Now I sound like Seb.”

He, amidst the chaos, then noticed how the tentacles that Max had severed didn’t grow back, or at least the demon didn’t or couldn’t heal itself. Sensing it was about to lose the battle, the Kraken suddenly jerked forward, preparing to dive back into the pentagram. Charles, realising he was about to be pulled into the pentagram, turned around and shouted at Max. “Keep cutting all its tentacles! He won’t be able to swim away without them!”

“Get the hell away from that creature, Charles!” Max shouted back, his blue eyes glistening with concern. “I told you to not do anything stupid!”

As Charles opened his mouth to answer, the demon lunged and smashed its tentacle repeatedly at the marbled floor. But Max, as fast as a cheetah, darted toward the demon and struck it, parting another tentacle from its body, and ichor gusted forth in a sticky blast, coating him. Charles shouted a late warning at him. He gritted his teeth before he drove his hand viciously into the demon’s flesh, then he channelled more magic into his hands as he yanked his own body down with such force that when he looked up, he could see the foul-smelling red flesh welcoming him. Black ichor gushed, and the demon jerked its body back, displaying a massive wound gaped in its side. As Charles stared, while dangling dangerously at the bottom of the demon’s body, Max raised his arm and, with the precision of a highly skilled wizard, threw his sword away. 

It landed straight on the gaping wound and buried itself beneath the demon’s dark flesh. The demon howled—like the wail of a banshee—then its tentacles curled up, covering its body, and it crumpled in on itself before exploding in a shower of ichor and disappearing as demons did when life left them. Meanwhile, Charles, who had lost his grip, slid down straight into the ground with a surprised scream. But before he could register what was happening, Max suddenly yanked him away from the pentagram and said, “The pentagram will collapse; we need to get the fuck away from here!”

Sure enough, not long after, the whole ground started shaking as if struck by an earthquake, just as they bolted into their feet and started running away from the pentagram.

“What the fuck is happening here?”

“Hell if I know! But whoever tried to summon a bloody Kraken must want something to do with-”

“With what?” Charles asked as he reached out to pull the front door open, but when he heard nothing from Max, he looked back. “Max?”

Max didn’t reply; his attention seemed to be fixed on something across the room.

“Max!” He let out a frustrated scream. The ceiling began to fall apart, almost destroying everything around them. “What are you doing? The building is going to come down with the pentagram!”

“There’s a cat.”

“What?”

“A cat,” Max repeated in a low whisper, pointing. “It's in that cage over there.”

Charles looked over at the spot Max was pointing to. Indeed, there was a bristling Bengal cat all curled up in one of the wooden cages. “We don’t have time! We need to go. Now!”

But Max was already on the move, nimbly dodging all the big stones and dusty debris flying his way. Charles cursed out loud but, again, followed him nonetheless. When they reached the animal’s cage, Max picked it up, bringing it to eye level, and gasped. “There are two of them!”

“Alright, yeah, fun. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Gripping the cage tightly, Max and Charles dashed towards the door. But unfortunately, Charles had to trip over one of the last pillars holding up the foyer, and now the front part of the warehouse, which was barely intact, was beginning to cave in along with the rear part that had already started to fall apart earlier.

“What the fuck-CHARLES!”

“I-I didn’t mean to!” Charles glanced at the pillar in panic.

But Max was having none of it and quickly yanked the back of his shirt with his free hand. “Ben je gek? We can't botch this now, dumbass!” Max barked as he manoeuvred them both to dodge the falling rubble.

When they finally got to the front door, Max had to give it a good kick to get it open so they could run through. The two boys sprinted as fast as they could to escape the wreckage, and when they glanced back, they saw nothing but the depressing state of the now-flattened-out building.

“Seb is soooo gonna kill us, right?” Charles asked nervously.

Max, while cradling the wooden box in his chest, scowled at him. “He’ll kill you first, that’s for sure.”

In the end, they somehow survived the wrath of one Sebastian Vettel. Thank God for that. Charles greatly suspected it was because Max had brought the cats along with them to the older man’s office when they reported back from their mission.

“What are you going to do with the cats, then?” Seb asked them, gently stroking one of the cats that had settled comfortably in his lap, while the other snoozed on a pile of papers not far.

“I’ll take care of them,” said Max simply. “I’ve always wanted to be a cat dad.”

Seb nodded. “Do you have the names already?”

“Jimmy and Sassy.” The Dutch said proudly.

"Wow, you’ve come prepared.” Charles hissed dryly under his breath, which earned him a glare from Max.

“That’s good,” Seb chimed in. “Well, Alex is coming back tomorrow, and you can bring the cats over to see him and make sure they’re doing alright.”

“That’s my plan.”

Seb suddenly turned to him with a questioning look, and Charles quickly raised his hands in response. “Don’t look at me. They’re not my responsibilities.”

“But you found them together, no? I was thinking you might also-”

“Max found them alone.” Charles said grimly. “I, at that time, was focused on just trying to save my own life from the rubble, really.”

“Selfish bastard.” Max grumbled.

Charles caught that. “What did you say?”

“Guys, please stop fighting.” Seb allowed himself a long sigh, forestalling Charles and Max’s next argument—they would always have time for another one. “You’re dismissed. I’ve got to finish the report for your dreadful mission, and you two are giving me headaches. Off you go, now.”

“But-but… My cats!” Max sputtered, gesturing at the two Bengal cats who were still snoozing away happily.

Seb only gave him a dark look.

Charles thought it’d be the last time he ever saw the two cats, but he was mistaken.

The life of a wizard was one of magic, danger, and excitement through the days. But sometimes, all Charles wanted was to stay in and binge-watch Netflix on the sofa like a normal human. So during his day off, he had invited Pierre to his apartment to hang out a bit. Now, both of them were curled up on the sofa, watching a horrible remake of Lord of the Quills. (But Legolas was a total babe, so Charles couldn't really complaining, and he did bear a curious resemblance to a certain Dutchman Charles knew all too well...)

“Putain, I really need to know Gandalf’s hair care routine ASAP.” Pierre told him with a whistle. “All those battles and his hair didn’t even move an inch!”

Charles nodded in agreement. “I need to know Legolas’s. Did you see how he tossed his hair back before jumping off the cliff? Sick.”

“I know, right? I’ve always wanted to have long hair like that, though.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Yuki,” Pierre said, scrunching up his nose. “He doesn’t like it when my hair is long, he said he’d personally throw me into a pit of scarabs if I did.”

Charles shuddered quietly, picturing a tiny Yuki Tsunoda tossing a long-haired (and blond) Pierre into a pit of scarabs while laughing maniacally.

“Where’s Yuki, by the way? Haven’t seen him around lately.”

“Oh, he and Liam went to visit Mr. M since yesterday.” Pierre casually conjured an apple out of thin air and took a big bite.

“Who?”

“Mr. M,” his best friend repeated.

Charles made a face. “I heard you, but who’s that?”

“Mr. M is Minotaur, you daft.”

“I had no idea you're so chummy with a fucking Minotaur, mate.” Charles said dryly.

Pierre gave him a playful wink.

The doorbell rang suddenly, and both of them groaned.

“That must be the delivery service." Charles said, nudging Pierre with his foot. “You go, Pierre.”

“Hey, it’s all your food, man.” Pierre rolled his eyes. “You’re a goddamn wizard, Charles, in case you forgot. Just whip up some food-making spells, and voila! You can have a fucking feast for dinner! But no, you choose to order a delivery service instead and wait for more than half an hour for a Chinese takeout!”

Charles ignored him as he uncurled himself from the sofa and went to grab a fifty-dollar bill from a table near the door. He opened the door and, to his surprise, found himself staring at none other than Max Verstappen.

“What are you doing here?” He blurted out.

“I need your help,” Max said, and just then, a loud 'meow’ echoed through the air. That was when Charles noticed that he had brought along two plastic cages. “With them.”

Charles could not stop staring at the two cages below. Inside, it must be the two Bengal cats they found two weeks ago.

“Is that Max?” Pierre yelled from inside his flat.

“Pierre is with you?” Max raised an eyebrow. “Perfect, you two could help me, then.”

“Help you with what?”

Charles swung the door open wider so Pierre could see Max and his two cats there.

“Are those your cats, Max?” Pierre asked excitedly.

Max nodded, and he turned to Charles, who stood there perfectly still. “Look after them for me. I’ll be away for two weeks for my mission-”

“Hold up!” Charles stopped him before Max could finish his sentence, head spinning. “You want me to look after them?”

“Yeah.”

Charles blinked at Max. Up close, he could see that Max looked tired. His eyes were rimmed with red, his clothes looked crumpled, as if he had slept in them, and his hair wanted cutting—soft, dark waves that curled around his ears and the back of his neck. Charles had to bite back the urge to carefully brush his fingertips over it.

“Why me?!”

“Are you serious?” Max asked in an awed tone. “Of course I’d ask you. You are their other parent!”

Charles gaped at him.

“Damn,” Pierre muttered softly, almost unheard. “What’s this? Martin Brundle’s Paternity Court?”

But both Charles and Max ignored him. 

“I’d never… I don’t… What?”

“I don’t have much time for this. Here,” Max said, sliding a small book over to Charles. “All you need to know about them is in that book. Take good care of them for me, yeah? I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“Max, wait!” He must’ve sounded desperate enough that it made Max stop in his tracks. “I don’t… I never had any pets before. What if I accidentally killed them?”

Max’s whole face softened. “You’ll be alright. You won’t kill them.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that,” said Max casually. He brought his hand forward to touch Charles’s right cheek lightly. “That’s why I’m here, no?” With a smirk that blinded the Monegasque’s whole world, he saluted Pierre a good bye and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Charles just stood there for a few moments after Max left. His face went a deeper shade of red, and he could feel his magic starting to make his whole body tremble, threatening to burst every inch of his nerves into a flurry of explosions.

Pierre, who suddenly stood behind him to examine his expression, cringed slightly. “You are so whipped, my dude.”

Charles seized the apple from Pierre’s hand and threw it back at his face.

Both Jimmy and Sassy, thankfully, didn't seem to mind Charles’s humble flat as their temporary home.

After a quick trip to the pet store, Charles has stocked up on cat foods and litter that was going to last him at least for two weeks since Max didn’t give him any supplies. He belatedly remembered that he should’ve checked which brand the cats liked best in the book Max gave him before buying everything. Now, all he could do was hope that Jimmy and Sassy wouldn’t throw a fit over his choices.

After just two days of living together, Charles could tell both cats have very different personalities. Jimmy was a bundle of energy, darting around the flat with enthusiasm, pouncing at every beam coming from the window, and scrambling up furniture as if he were on a hunt. Whenever Charles got home after a long day at work, Jimmy’d dashed across the room, his tail flicking with excitement and a loud meow, to greet him. 

Sassy, on the other hand, couldn’t care less for such antics. He preferred to lounge about, with his favourite spot being a sunlit corner in Charles’s living room. He barely budged except to stretch out languidly or shift to a new cosy spot when the light shifted. And when Charles tried to pet him, he’d hissed, clearly not having it.

“You’re so much like your dad,” Charles muttered as he glared at a sleeping Sassy. “Max hissed at me once when I tried to touch his hair.”

As if he could hear him, Sassy opened his eyes slowly and hissed at Charles again.

Charles snorted. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.” He held his phone up in front of the cat and snapped a few pictures of Sassy snoozing away in his favourite spot by the window. He then sent the pictures to Max with a caption that read, ‘He hissed at me only four times today, new accomplishment!’ to which Max replied immediately with, ‘My baby!’ along with a bunch of heart-eyed emojis.

Charles smiled fondly at his phone then made his way over to Jimmy, who slept on the armchair, to take some pictures of him after Max had flooded his phone with texts of, ‘Where’s Jimmy?’ and ‘Where’s my other baby?’

It wasn’t that bad to have pets, Charles thought as he looked up from his device to see both cats sleeping soundly with soft purrs. They were more than okay.

Yeah, it wasn’t bad at all.

But oh boy, he was so wrong about that.

The next day, Charles was jolted awake by his phone, which kept buzzing non-stop for the last half hour. He begrudgingly reached for his phone and scrolled down through the messages only to find out that all the ruckus was because Esteban and Pierre had forgotten to use the glamour during their mission yesterday, and now Seb was giving them an absolute bollocking.

Charles had been filling the cats’ bowl with their breakfast when, out of nowhere, a burst of flame appeared in front of his face, giving both Jimmy and Sassy quite the scare. But Charles hardly batted an eyelid; he knew exactly what it was: a fire message. He lunged forward to grab the piece of paper that came with it and raised an eyebrow as he read what was written.

“From Lando to Charles. Broom emoji, question mark.” He read it aloud, questioningly. “What the fuck is this supposed to mean?”

He quickly took a picture of it and sent it to the group chat.

He typed, ‘What’s this?’ in which Lando quickly replied with, ‘Broom Simulator 2night, mate?’

‘Oh, so that’s what it's all about.’ Alex typed. ‘Didn't have a clue. Cheers for that, lads.’

George’s text came not even a second later. ‘Alex!! You’re supposed to be the smartest one out of the lot of us!!’

‘It's not that I don't understand, alright.' Alex replied. 'But I couldn't even get my hands on the paper. It blew up right in front of Horsey, and he went and shredded it to bits with his claws before I could even get a look at it.’

Charles grinned at both Jimmy and Sassy with pride. “You two are such good boys.”

“Oi, have you lot heard? The developer just dropped a new game similar to this one yesterday, and guess what it's called?” Lando asked later that night when the four of them got together online for their usual game night.

“What?”

“Carpet Simulator!”

Charles cursed softly when his broom almost hit the tree trunk. “Carpet Simulator, really?”

Lando giggled. “Yeah, like in Aladdin!”

“Didn’t believe that one bit.” George said with a laugh after he slammed his own broom with Alex’s that earned him a loud yell of “GEORGE!” from his boyfriend. “Right then, how about a round of Harpy Harpy Siren after this? Fancy it?”

“No!” Charles said quickly. “You know I can’t lie for shit, George.”

"George!" Alex groaned (again) after George pushed his broom off the track (for the nth time). "Gerroff me, you git. Why don't you just-GEORGE!"

"Bloody hell, you two are giving me an earache, you are!" Lando shrieked at the bickering couple.

Charles was about to evade an upcoming ambush of Stymphalian birds when Jimmy suddenly jumped in front of him, blocking the entire monitor from his view.

“JIMMY NOOOOO!” Charles wailed as the words ‘YOU LOSE’ popped up on his screen.

But Jimmy just brushed him off; he stayed put, perched above his keyboard, while washing its face with a paw.

“Who the fuck is Jimmy?” Lando’s breathless laugh crackled through his headphones like a squirrel on a caffeine high. Of course he'd be laughing; that cheeky sod won the round.

“One of Max’s cats.” Charles replied grimly.

“Why've you got Max's cats with you, Charlie?”

“Come on, it must be his turn to have the kids for the week.” George let out a loud snort. “Part of their custody arrangement, I'd wager.”

“Divorced without getting married.” Alex said. “That does ring a bell, doesn’t it?”

“We’re not a couple.” Charles insisted as he desperately tried to pull Jimmy away from clawing on his screen.

“Lewis and Nico did it. Now it’s your and Max’s time to shine.”

“We’re not in love! Ow!” Jimmy nibbled on his finger in retaliation.

“Are we just going to collectively forget what happened last month?” Lando was not having it. “You and Max saw each other in Lewis!”

“Absolutely in love.” Alex agreed.

“It was a mistake!” Now the cat was trying to claw on his mousepad, leaving behind an angry claw mark on it. “Oh, Jimmy, come on!”

“Meow!”

“I think Jimmy agrees with me.” Alex said laughingly.

“No, he doesn't!” Charles let out a huff. But try as he might to deny it, his friends just wouldn’t let up. Absolute menaces, the whole lot of them.

In the end, after they said goodbyes to each other, he was left alone with Jimmy again, who was busy licking his right paw.

“Lewis’s spell was a mistake, I’m sure.” Charles told Jimmy. “Your dad couldn’t be in love with me, right?”

It was like Jimmy could sense what was going on; he paused his paw licking and looked right back at him.

“Right, buddy?” Charles urged him.

Jimmy shot him a look that said, ‘What do you think?’ before going back to aggressively licking his paw.

He pouted at him.

The sun hung high in the sky, blinding everyone, including Charles, who had gone out without his sunnies and regretted it. He had just finished doing his mission report and gave it to Seb when his phone rang. 

It was a call from Max.

Charles frowned confusedly. Max usually never called; he only sent him text messages to ask about his cats daily, and that was about it. So this was new for him.

“Hello?”

“Charles,” Max sounded a little out of breath. “Hey, am I interrupting anything?”

“No.” Charles felt a painful flutter of his heart as he realised it had been a while since he last heard Max’s voice; he missed him. But he'd rather eat the cats' shit than admitting it out loud. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Max said. “Listen, uh… I might not be able to contact you for a while.”

“What… Why?”

“Something about my mission,” said him. "And... I think I won’t be home next week.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Worry had found its way to his voice. “Max, don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I’m okay, Charles.” Something about the way Max said his name always brought a shiver down to his spine. “Don’t worry. Tell the kids I miss them and I’ll be home soon.”

‘I miss you too,’ Charles wanted to say. “Alright, be safe. Call me if anything happens,” was what he settled for instead.

“I will.”

Max ended the call, and Charles was left alone, gripping his phone tightly in his hand.

“I hope Max is okay.” Charles told Sassy that night. Bending down, he held out his hand to the cat, who rubbed its head against the back of his fingers. “Good cat, Sassy.”

“Meow.”

“I’m just so worried about him,” Charles sighed. “He sounded a bit troubled when he called. I wonder why...”

“Meow.”

“He’s stronger than me, right? So, he’ll be more than just fine.”

“Meow.”

“See? You agree with me.” He scratched Sassy behind the ears, and the cat purred happily. “Oh, you like that, huh?”

“Meow.”

For the next five days, Charles heard nothing from Max. Absolutely nothing. He tried to ask Seb about Max’s mission, but his mentor, unfortunately, didn’t know anything about it.

“You can ask Lewis for the details,” Seb suggested. “Nico is Max’s partner for this mission, maybe he knows a thing or two.”

“I don’t know anything.” That was Lewis’s answer when he asked the question. “It’s an S-rank mission that only Nico and Max were in the loop about it. I only knew where it was located.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere in Siberia.” Even Charles could tell that Lewis was deeply worried beneath his calm exterior. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything from Nico.”

“Can we appeal to the ministry for their mission details?” Charles just wouldn’t give up. “You know Toto, he’d probably help you out.”

“It won’t be easy. That might take a little while." Lewis frowned, but he nodded anyway. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

Charles nodded grimly back at him.

Charles received a fire message from Lewis a week after Max’s supposed homecoming date. He was in such a hurry to grab the note that he accidentally woke Jimmy up, who had been napping in his lap.

They put censors in pretty much everything in the file they gave me. Toto said even the ministry had a little knowledge about the mission. He wonders if Nico and Max are the only ones involved in this, it probably has something to do with those ancient relics they discovered last year. No one really knows about the relics, but you and I both know that Nico is the only one who can unlock it since he’s a descendant of another high wizard. I’m reaching out to Damon Hill to see if he has any information on it, but he’s retired; it might take him a while to respond.

I’ll send you the copy of the files and see if you could decipher anything from them.

— High Wizard, Lewis Hamilton

Charles’s shoulder slumped in disappointment. Soon after, another fire message exploded in front of him, and it was the file Lewis had promised him. He opened the file slowly, and the first thing that caught his eye was a picture of Nico and Max in front of the ancient relics they had found in Siberia the last time they had a mission together.

His thumb unconsciously brushed over Max’s smiling face in the picture.

As if he knew that his dad was in the picture, Jimmy rubbed his face eagerly against the edge of the frame. Charles smiled at that, despite everything.

“I know, I miss him too.”

Jimmy licked his fingers.

Seb knew he was stressed, so he sent Charles on another mission, and this time with Carlos.

It was a short two-day mission in Egypt, which required them to deal with an upset Sphinx that went wild because his beetle allergy has kicked in. The Sphinx greatly reminded him of Jimmy and Sassy by the way it licked its paw after Carlos had successfully coaxed it to calm down. It was kinda cute.

When he got in bed later that night, he couldn’t help but think about Max. It had almost been a month since he left, and still, no messages, no calls, nothing.

In the other bed next to him, Carlos eagerly recounted everything that had happened today to Lando (including the bit where the Sphinx nearly turned them into its next meal because none of them could be bothered to answer its riddle properly), who was laughing like a freaking hyena on the other end of the phone. They sound so sickeningly in love that it made Charles turn green with envy.

"How the fuck should I know if the Sphinx wanted me to answer it in inches? I'm Spanish, I don't do inches!"

"Is it American then, the Sphinx?"

Charles snorted at Lando's stupidity, but Carlos just let out a fond chuckle. "No, amorcito. There's no American Sphinx."

“Just asking," Lando said casually. "But you’re okay, right? Not a bit hurt?” His tone shifted to one of concern, but Carlos quickly waved him off.

For the first time in his life, Charles felt a bit self-conscious about the fact that he got no one to call, to fuss over him, or to ask what his mission was like after a long day of work.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle." Carlos smiled softly. "Don’t worry. I'm alive and talking to you now, no?”

“Are you sure-”

“I’m good, too. Thanks for asking Lando.” Charles yelled.

“Oh? Oh! Is that Charles? Let me talk to him!”

“It is I, your humble servant, my lord,” Charles mumbled as Carlos put his phone on speaker so they could talk to and hear each other. “Why aren’t you asleep, dumbass?”

“Fernando wanted me to finish his mission report,” Lando whined. “I’m not his fucking secretary! This is free and forced labour!”

“Don’t worry, darling.” Carlos said with a smirk. “I shall have a word with the ministry.”

“A word?” Lando demanded; his voice raised a higher octave. “A word, Carlos?!”

“A handful of words, if that’d please you, mi amor?”

Lando let out a giggle. “I love you. Marry me. Soy lago.”

“Alright!” Charles suddenly announced, cutting off Carlos, who had already opened his mouth and was about to reply to his boyfriend. He couldn’t stand to listen to Carlos and Lando being all lovey-dovey with each other for another second. He'd rather get bitten by the Sphinx, really. “Good night. I’m off to sleep now.”

He shut his eyes as Carlos bid a soft good-bye to Lando.

That night Charles dreamed of Max.

Max was crumbling before his eyes. He was losing him. He’d watch him die as he watched everyone else die, as he watched his parents die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Stay, Max.

Mas was slipping away, and Charles knew he’d have to learn all over again to survive in a world without someone he loved.

Please stay with me.

When Charles woke up, he knew he was screaming for Max.

Charles plopped down in front of his piano while Jimmy and Sassy both stared at him with expectations.

He hesitantly tapped a finger on one key and cringed when it struck the note.

“It’s been a while, give me a break.” He groaned at Sassy, who shot him an angry hiss.

“Meow,” Jimmy said, and Charles took it as an encouragement to give it another shot.

He took a deep breath then and wriggled his fingers. And he played.

Jeux d’eau. He remembered the first time his papa had taught him to play this piece. He was five at that time, young and eager to try everything he could. Charles played, and he played the years of his parents’ lives. His fingers danced lightly over each key, moving from note to note. If he closed his eyes, he could see the faces of his father, his mother, his godfather, his brothers, and Max. And he played his love for them.

When he was done, he’d looked up to see both Jimmy and Sassy blinking at him slowly.

“I’ve stopped playing after my parents died.” Charles said to them. These days, he’d find it easier for him to talk to cats than humans. “I had lost everything in one night—my parents, my family, my home. But then Max said he couldn’t imagine me living a life without a piano. I told him don’t be ridiculous, and he yelled back at me, saying that I’d regret it someday.” He looked down at his fingers. “I guess he’s right.”

Jimmy answered him in a meow that was lost in the noise of Sassy jumping and landing right over the keys, making random noises of notes.

“I’m so screwed,” Charles whispered softly. Horror in his voice when he could finally say that aloud. “I’m in love with Max. Oh God. I really am in love with Max. The spell was right.”

Sassy let out a brazen hiss, wagging his tail right in front of Charles’s face.

Charles sneezed not long after.

Two months since Max left, and Charles almost went mad with grief.

He’d always known that this was a possibility. As a wizard, Charles knew that his job could be very dangerous and that anyone could die anytime if something went wrong during the mission. But still, the thought of not seeing Max again forever causes his gut to roil, and he had to step away from his paperwork before he accidentally threw up all over it.

He was too slow to move, so he had to empty the remnants of his lunch down the trashcan beside his table.

Seb heard him from next door, and when he realised what had happened, he sat beside him in silence as Charles tried to calm himself down.

“Will it ever get easier?” He asked Seb.

“No,” Seb said, and with a snap of his fingers, his trashcan was as clean as it was before. “It won’t.”

“How’s Lewis holding up?”

“He almost burnt the whole ministry building down yesterday.” Seb gave him a small smile. “Well, you know how he is.”

Despite everything, Charles smiled back. “Typical Lewis?”

His mentor let out a huff of laughter. “Typical Lewis.”

Charles looked down on his trembling hands. “I don’t even have the chance to say I love him.”

“If there’s anything I knew about Max, it's that he’s tough.” Seb said. His eyes were full of determination. “If you truly love him, don’t lose faith.”

Don’t lose faith.

‘Never, Max.’ Charles said to himself. ‘Never.’

After three months, Charles told Seb to stop treating him like glass that’d break and to send him out for high-ranked missions.

Getting through the days was easier now. One of the good things about being busy was that there was always something that needed doing. Always. Constant activity kept grief at bay because there was no time for him to dwell on Max’s whereabouts. In a sense, work was a reprieve.

Seb told him that the ministry had sent out a team to track down both Nico and Max. They had reached Russia a few days ago and were currently making their way to Siberia, which was where the two had last been seen, according to the tracker.

He bumped into Lewis on the way to deliver a report to Seb, and by just looking at the older man’s face, Charles knew they both got the same hollow look on them.

“Lewis,” Charles greeted him with a nod. “You good?’

Loss was still evident in his eyes, but Lewis nodded back at him. “Getting there.”

Charles gave him a small, encouraging smile that didn’t even reach his eyes.

Four months and still no signs of Max.

Sometimes, when he looked at Jimmy and Sassy, Charles found himself wondering if they missed Max the way he did. He was well aware that his friends would give him concerned glances from time to time, but he'd constantly brush it off and reassure him that he was fine. Alex, George, and Lando had their doubts, but at least they weren't pushing it.

In the middle of the day, Lando suddenly sent him a fire message that read, “Carpet emoji and winky face emoji, question mark.”

Later that night, he realised only Lando and Alex were connected to the game while George was nowhere to be found, which was honestly weird.

“Where’s George?”

“He’s working late in the hospital,” Alex answered him. “Some emergency or other he had to attend to.”

“Is everything all right?” Charles asked as he glanced back towards Jimmy and Sassy, who were busy munching on their dinner.

“Charles,” something about Alex’s slow, languid tone made Charles shift uneasily in his seat. “They’ve found some members of the rescue team the ministry sent out last month to track down Nico and Max.”

Charles’s whole body went frozen. Dread washed over him like a landfall.

"Some of them? What about the rest of the team then?"

"Only the medics made it back," Alex said with a pained voice. "While the rest of the team, well..."

“Well?”

“They didn't make it.”

Charles's ears were ringing, and it felt like everything around him just hit a pause.

He could hear Lando curse loudly. "Still no lead about their whereabouts, eh?"

"Sadly, yes. Lewis had another row with the ministry this morning during the high wizards meeting because of it—a rather big one, it was. Jenson and Kimi had to team up just to help Toto break free from Lewis's hold. Seb was up against both Fred and Ayao, and it was bloody confusing to understand German, French, and Japanese at the same time, even with a language spell. And Fernando yelled something about Christian's mum, which, uh... I think it ended up with them having another argument about each other's mothers-"

Even Charles had to snort in amusement at that. "Goodness."

"It's utterly absurd, isn't it? Four months now, and the ministry's only done the bare minimum to find them." Lando said. "I mean, Nico is one of the high wizards, and Max is a bloody candidate for one. If that's how they treat high wizards, can you imagine if one of us ordinary sorts went missing?"

Alex groaned. "Don't even want to think about it."

"So? Did they say anything about what they'll do next?" Charles demanded.

"The ministry insists their hands are tied because Siberia is out of their jurisdiction." Alex, who attended the meeting with his mentor (Jenson), said. "They're not promising us anything. I'm sorry, Charles."

Charles felt like he was drowning, like he was caught in the eddy of a powerful wave that threatened to pull him under, to crush and break him into pieces.

“Charles?” Lando's voice, laced with concern, broke through the fog. “Are you okay?”

Charles took a deep breath.

“Of course, I’m okay.” He said, and somehow it made both Jimmy and Sassy turn their heads around to watch him carefully. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Five months have passed, and suddenly it was winter.

It was snowing heavily outside, but inside his flat, it was warm like honey. Christmas was near, and Charles had already decorated his own flat with Christmas' ornaments (including changing the colour of Jimmy and Sassy's food bowls from black and white to red and green). He also had conjured a massive tree that was placed right in the middle of his flat, though it was his third tree because Jimmy and Sassy kept knocking them over or climbing them aggressively.

Something felt missing, and he knew exactly why, but he chose to push it to the very back of his mind.

Seb gave him three days off before Christmas so he could spend more time with both Jimmy and Sassy. His mentor had even gifted the cats a Christmas present: a matching collar with a tag that read, "JIMMY & SASSY. IF LOST, PLEASE RETURN TO MAXY OR CHARLIE." Carlos and Lando got him a self-writing quill, complete with spell and grammar checking options in both English and French, because, as Carlos put it in his card, "I'm saving both mine and Seb's eyesight from having to read your chicken scratch of a writing in the mission report." While both George and Alex gave him not one but two self-help books titled "Muttering Isn't Magic: How to Actually Speak Up When You Fancy Someone" and "The Purr-fect Spell: How to Keep Your Cat from Casting a Disappearing Act When It's Time for a Vet Visit." (The last book had to be Alex's brainchild; Charles was sure of it).

Life was (kind of) good.

On one gloomy day, Charles was thinking of remodelling his living room because the cats kept hiding beneath the sofa in search of a warmer place to sleep. Maybe he should move the sofa closer to his fireplace; that was good thinking. But wouldn’t that be too dangerous for them?

Suddenly Jimmy let out a hiss, and Sassy cut him off with a loud meow.

“Jimmy, stop sniffing your brother’s butt.” Charles said without looking at the cats. His eyes fixed solely on his sofa, imagining what it’d look like if he changed the colour from dark blue to green, you know, to match the Christmas' aesthetic.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Just as Charles was about to mutter the spell, he was startled by the sudden ring of his doorbell.

He groaned in annoyance as he strode over to his front door and reached for the knob, ready to yell out all the English profanities he knew to whoever dared to disturb his day off.

But what welcomed him on the other side had left him completely speechless. And for a moment Charles wondered if he was losing his mind.

“Merry Christmas, Charles.” Max said, smiling wistfully. He stood casually in front of him, with his hands in the pockets of his ugly, tight-skinned jeans. He got a couple of new scars on his face, and the biggest one was ran diagonally from just above his right eyebrow, crossing over a small corneal abrasion on his pupil, down to his cheek. Once he had longer hair, but this Max had his hair cut short and the sides were shaved down to a close cut. His lips were chapped because of the cold air, but he was whole. “Or not?”

Max, his Max, was alive and whole and breathing and stood right after him.

“Max?” Charles croaked, and he faintly registered the fact that Jimmy and Sassy were both meowing loudly at him from inside his flat, demanding to see their long-lost father.

“Hey guys.” Max greeted them as he bent down to scoop the cats into his embrace. “How I missed you.”

Charles couldn’t tear his gaze away from him, too shocked to even take a small breath.

“Max,” he breathed again. Charles could feel the pinprick of tears behind his eyes as he fought the urge to cry. “You’re alive.”

“I am,” Max said as he stood back, still holding the cats in his arms. There was a rapid hitch in his breath; he was looking at Charles as if he had no idea how he’d react to his sudden appearance. “I’m alive and well.”

“I-” Words had deserted him. Charles was still feeling the shock of seeing Max like this, bone-deep. How long had he waited for him to show up in front of his door like this? How many nights had he slept without him knowing whether or not Max was still alive? The pain he had to endure, the longing he had to push deep down in his heart?

Jimmy and Sassy jumped down from Max’s hands and nudged Charles’s legs as if to say, ‘Go on, give him a hug,’ but both of his feet were still nailed to the ground.

“I’m so sorry,” Max said softly. “We got ambushed by a group of dark wizards and witches also hunting the relics. There were dozens of them, and it was just the two of us, so we didn't really stand a chance. All we could do was run on foot because we were so knackered that our magic was completely tapped out, and eventually they caught up with us. I’m not sure how long they kept us, but that’s the reason why we couldn’t contact anyone from the ministry."

Charles's nails dug into his own palms.

"We totally got lucky with our escape," Max continued. "But it didn’t go without a bit of fighting. I caught a nasty curse during one of the fights, and honestly, if it weren’t for Nico, I probably would be a goner by now. He was fighting them off and healing me at the same time. In the end we won, yes, but I lost an eye." He gestured to his wounded right eye. "But hey, at least the ministry promised to hold my high wizard inauguration as soon as I want because of this.”

“But you’re not a goner.”

Max shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

Charles bit his trembling lips.

“When I was with them, you’re the only one I could ever think about.” Max said as he took a step forward. Charles searched his face with his eyes. Even after all this time, Max still looked so handsome. His hair was still unruly, and his blue eyes shone bright like the morning sky—Charles’s favourite shade of blue. “You’re the only one that keeps me going, Charles.”

He wasn’t sure who reached for who first; only that a moment later he was in Max’s arms and he was sobbing his heart out.

“You don’t have to say sorry at all.” Charles mumbled, clutching at him tightly, like he was afraid Max might vanish if he let go. “I love you. It doesn’t matter anymore. I love you. You’re alive, and that’s all I need, Max. You hear me?”

Max nodded with a smile and said, “I love you too. God, I love you so much, Charles.”

That was all it took for Charles to lean in and kiss Max on the lips. The way their lips pressed together was both intense and soothing, and he didn’t pull away until he felt like he had made up for all the time they had missed together.

Jimmy and Sassy were circling around their legs eagerly, as if they could feel their love for each other and for them. If it weren’t for them, Charles thought, he’d never be able to feel anything like this.

When they broke off, Max’s thumb slid along the arch of his cheekbone, and Charles shivered. It had been so long since someone had kissed him silly and out of breath like that. For the first time in many years, Charles felt his heart wide open, allowing himself to feel a touch of love again.

“I’m home, Charles.” Max said, grinning from ear to ear. His beautiful and brave and strong Max.

Charles brought their foreheads together, his heart full of love. And smiled.

“Welcome home, Max.”