Work Text:
December 21st
Max should’ve stayed home.
Alternatively, he could’ve bullied Victoria into dropping the kids off at their mom’s place and coming out with him. Heck, he could’ve asked the old man from across the road that spoke not a single word of English, but always nodded friendly at him whenever Max jogged past on his team prescribed workouts, to accompany him and it would’ve been less pathetic than what he is doing right now.
The Christmas village around him is buzzing with the sounds of children begging their parents for candy and young couples laughing as they feed one another chestnuts, their noses tinted red as they lean in to kiss. Normally, Max would by now be looking for the best place to get hot drinks with an appropriate amount of alcohol to enjoy all the stupid arcade games later on.
Right now, he feels like this place and his mood couldn’t be a worse match.
The chat is still open when he unlocks the phone, staring at the letters that shattered his plans for the evening.
Charles
Sorry I can’t make it today, Maman needs help with something
Me
Sure, no problem 😊 Tell her I said hi!
Truth to be told, it is a problem, very much so. Not that Max would ever tell Charles as he knows how much his friend feels responsible for making sure to see his family on the rare occasion that he is in town. Max understands, he really does, he would of course also drop everything should his mom ask him to help with Christmas preparations.
At the same time, he can’t shake the feeling that what is secretly Max’s favourite Christmas tradition, has become just another pre-Christmas chore for Charles. When he’d asked Charles if he had time for their annual trip to the Christmas village last week, he didn’t think much of the reply.
Me
Hey, does 18:00 on the 21st work for you?
Charles
Sure.
Me
Great, can’t wait!
Now he regrets asking Charles to come at all. After all, they are friendly, friends even, being the same age and the only drivers on the grid to grow up in Monaco - albeit only one with a Monegasque passport and the other with a dad that would’ve done well with less money and more empathy – but not the best of friends.
He isn’t Pierre, who he knows Charles runs to first whenever he has fresh gossip. And Charles isn’t Daniel either, who Max texts the latest memes he came across on his much too frequent visits to Instagram.
Charles is smiling in his profile picture, foregoing his model like smoulder for an expression full of happiness, one that makes his eyes sparkle. There is something about the genuine joy captured that makes Max feel all fuzzy and warm inside, despite the temperatures dropping almost low enough for each exhale to form small clouds.
“Hey Champ!”
Never in his life has he locked his phone faster, hoping and praying he wasn’t caught staring at his coworker.
“Hey Oscar.” He awkwardly greets the newest addition of drivers who live in Monaco with a quick handshake. “What’s up?”
“Last minute Christmas shopping.”
The Aussie nods at the bags he’s carrying, filled to the brim with small goods that mostly relatives over the age of 45 will be overjoyed to receive.
“Of course.”
Max mutters, more to himself than anything else. He doesn’t mean to be rude, but he knows what’s next and he can’t quite bring himself to tell Oscar the truth about why he is standing here, in the middle of Monaco’s Christmas village, looking absolutely miserable.
“Not looking too cheerful, are we?”
And of course, Oscar picks up on it, looking at Max with those button eyes he finds impossible to read. In a way, Oscar is the opposite to Charles for him, with every single emotion so easily recognizable in Charles’ gaze.
There were times where Max had found himself drowning in a stormy see and burning in a raging fire. He treasures the moments where he’s seen sunshine when Charles looked at him the most.
“Some plans didn’t work out, so…”
“Is this your way of telling me you got stood up by a date?”
By December, the temperatures in Monaco are thankfully low enough that Max can blame his rosy cheeks on the cold air instead of the hot, burning feeling of embarrassment. This was never supposed to be a date, despite what Oscar thinks. Despite what Max wants, if he is being honest, but his feelings are an issue for him and only him, so he wasn’t going to force Charles into a situation he wasn’t comfortable with by labelling their outing as anything other than it was: Old childhood friends visiting the Christmas village for the sake of good old times.
Okay, and maybe because Max has a huge crush and it multiplied every time he heard Charles laughter when he tried to convince Max to ride the Ferris wheel with him.
“Of course not.”
“Really?”
Oscar frowns and Max starts wondering if there is any easy way to get rid of him.
“Doesn’t your girlfriend miss you by now?”
“Mhm.” Oscar nods slowly. “So you did have a date gone wrong.”
“It was of course not a date anyways because I know Ch- the other person isn’t interested in me like that, so.”
After all, Max isn’t some beautiful model from the Côte d’Azur with long, flowy hair and a skin that glows golden in the sunlight. He’s more the type to burn.
“How can you be sure about that?”
Max looks at him dumbfounded while Oscar seems genuinely curious. Not that Max would be able to tell if he wasn’t.
“I-“
The only issue is, how does Max explain to his coworker he isn’t exactly close with, that his crush, yet another coworker, is simply not into men? Max is pretty sure Oscar wouldn’t judge him if he knew of his sexuality, but the instinct to hide behind his well-built façade is too strong.
Yes, he has stopped dating women to convince the racing world he is straight, but that doesn’t mean he is ready to reveal the true nature of his feelings for Charles to the public.
So he finds himself staring at Oscar, closing his gaping mouth without a word coming out.
“Mate, I can’t believe I am saying this, but I think I might know who could help you.”
This time, he is able to tell the exact moment a light bulb seems to appear above Oscar’s head.
“Help me?”
“Yeah, with this unrequited love of yours.”
Oscar raises his free hand to put the words Max wants to roll his eyes at in quotation marks. When put like this, it sounds like Max is pining. Which he is most certainly not. Most days he is fine with just being Charles’ friend and hanging out with him, laughing with him. It’s not like he draws their names surrounded by a read heart on his session notes or anything like that.
“My girlfriend showed me this TikTok the other day about why this Christmas village is so popular with young couples in particular. Apparently, there is a way to find out how someone really feels about yo-”
“Mate, you better not drag me to a witch.”
“You better be joking.”
“Nope.”
The word pops from Oscar’s mouth while Max stares at the small, wooden hut in front of them. The roof is covered in branches and inside, Max spots more candles and crystals than he cares to count. To top things off, amidst the flickering candlelight he finds an old woman, back hunched from years of work. Her white hair is partially covered by a scarf and worst of all, she is smiling right at him.
“How can I help you, son?” Her words sound harsh, accent dripping heavily from each syllable. If he had to guess, Max would say she grew up somewhere in the alps, high up on the mountains where spirits roamed when the sun left in favour of dark winter night.
“Ah, I was-“
“He’s heard you might help him find out how his crush truly feels about him.”
If Oscar is in any way amused by Max’s misery, he doesn’t let it on, his face as stoic as ever.
“Yes, yes.”
The small door on one side of the hut opens with a creak and before he knows it, the old lady has placed a small paper bag in Max’s hands, her skin rough against his. Max is still unsure if Oscar just made him fall for the biggest scam ever or if a real witch is currently petting his forearm.
“I knew you would come to me.”
“What?”
Max bends down to be more on her level, unsure if he’s heard her correctly. Max is pretty sure he’s never seen this lady before, being eccentric enough that he would’ve remembered her. Besides, he would’ve never found her hut without Oscar’s help.
“I saw you looking at a picture of your loved one.”
Real witch then. Max looks in Oscar in disbelieve, only to find his younger rival looking at him with the most shit-eating grin he has seen in his life. This little-
“Take this and you will be able to see what usually stays hidden to the eye. Only memories filled with true love can transcend time and space.”
She pats Max’s hands one last time before turning towards the hut.
“Wait, how much-“
A spark of light behind them causes Max and Oscar to jump, only to find the street in front of them completely empty when they turn back around.
“Of course.”
Max sighs and buries his face in one hand. He is decidedly too sober for this bullshit.
“Ah, so this is what they meant by her not appearing to everyone.”
Oscar nods, as if it was a totally normal, daily occurrence to witness someone dissolving into thin air in an instant.
“Lily’s gonna love this.”
Well, Max certainly isn’t.
“This is of course a scam and what if she tries to drug me with this?”
He shoves the bag in Oscar’s face, revealing the contents to him. The cookies inside look delicious, small half-moons Max knows will melt on his tongue. It’s the white powder they are covered with that is slightly worrying to him.
“It’s December, we aren’t getting tested until February. They do look tasty.”
Yeah, Oscar is definitely too chill about this entire affair.
“You can of course try one if you want to.”
Max nudges the bag further in his direction, only for Oscar to shake his head and pat Max on the back.
“I’m happily taken, thank you very much.” The sound of Oscar’s phone ringing brings an end to their banter. “I gotta run, enjoy the cookies.”
“See you around.”
Maybe Max should go home as well. It seems rather pointless to him to stay here and keep watching how happy couples walk past him holding hands and looking disgustingly in love. Why torture himself with something he won’t ever have?
“By the way!” Oscar turning around and shouting at him from a couple meters away snaps Max from his thoughts. “You should check out gossip pages at some point, my girlfriend found some pretty interesting stuff on there.”
He dismisses Oscar and turns around, still unsure of where to go. Despite all the good reasons to do so, he can’t quite bring himself to go home just yet. Instead, he decides the only reasonable thing to do after encountering a being with magical powers is to get drunk.
After two mugs filled with hot Punch, Max no longer feels that nasty tug on his heart whenever he thinks about Charles messages to him, about the fact he is here on his own for the first time in years.
Three mugs in, he brings the cookies out from his jacket’s pockets. He does realize how he must look to the rest of the visitors, stood next to a Christmas tree and eyeing a bag of cookies like it could blow up any time.
It’s after a fourth mug has been emptied that he decides to fuck it and stuffs one of the cookies into his mouth. A pleasant taste of vanilla and almond floods his taste buds, immediately bringing a feeling of warmth with it. And yeah, he was definitely right when he thought the cookie would basically melt in his mouth. Witch or not, the old lady definitely knows how to bake.
“Alright”, Max murmurs to himself, placing the bag with the remaining cookies back in his pocket.
He blinks a couple times, wondering if the Christmas lights have always looked this blurry or if he just got poisoned. Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s to blame. Speaking of…Max discreetly glances around until he spots a wooden arrow pointing in the direction of the nearest toilet.
“Whoa!”
Only that there is something weird going on with his legs. He tries taking another step, this time holding onto the small desk next to him. This time, he feels like the earth stopped spinning all together and he is still moving at high velocity. So he really got drugged.
Simply lovely.
Formula One star found unconscious after consuming cocaine
How exactly would he explain this headline to his mother? Didn’t she warn him about not taking sweets from strangers?
Just when Max thinks he is about to black out for real, everything suddenly stops spinning. He blinks once, twice and just like that, feels like nothing weird has ever happened to him.
Me
I’m pretty sure the cookies were laced with something
Oscar
Damn.
Was it true love though?
True love. Max huffs bitterly and locks his phone, not wanting to put up with Oscar’s shenanigans any longer. At least someone is enjoying his suffering because Max is most certainly not. Call him grumpy, but this was supposed to be one of the best evenings of the year. Just him and Charles and a million tiny lights lighting up the night and painting Charles’ face in the most angelic glow.
This night was supposed to be about hot drinks and sweet food and reminiscing childhood memories, not the lingering feeling of loneliness even the alcohol in Max’s blood can’t dissolve. If he is truly honesty with himself, none of this is even fun. The drinks are too expensive, but glistening on Charles’ lips, Max would spend a fortune just to get a taste. Sweets are not his thing, but he wishes he could add another picture of Charles proudly holding a cloud of cotton candy to his collection.
Maybe he should get another drink, or two, something stronger than this fruit flavoured water with so much sugar his trainer would scold him. Maybe then he would be reckless enough to risk his friendship with Charles and text him something stupid like I love you.
A feeling he was perfectly fine with holding concealed deep within his heart. Loving Charles was all life would ever grant him, a cruel truth he had to come to terms with years ago. Still, it was better than nothing, holding onto the feeling that had blossomed within Max all those years ago, so long ago he can’t even place when it happened.
Maybe it had started when they were small, a little Monegasque and a Dutch boy living in a city by the deep blue sea.
Max blinks at the children standing in front of the hut selling cotton candy, feet frozen in place. The image is blurry, no matter how hard he rubs his eyes, but he recognizes the figures instantly.
Years have passed, but he’d still recognize the excited tone of Charles’ rapid French anywhere.
Bonjour, he whispers along with his tiny, red-cheeked self. The only word he confidently spoke in the foreign language back then. Another French sentence by Charles follows, and Max can’t help but smile as he can pinpoint the exact moment his little self realizes what the stranger wants from him.
Years later and Max wishes their communication was still this easy, nothing more than laughter and excited gestures, over shared cotton candy and the small red car Charles is carrying. The boys might not speak the same language, wouldn’t for years, considering Max’s international school taught classes in English and Charles picked Italian when it was his turn to learn a second language, but even back then, the common love for racing transcended the need for words.
Max watches fondly as the boys race each other around a corner, toy car and cotton candy held high. It’s only when their laughter fades that Max snaps back to reality. And while he still feels the cold creeping under his jacket, there is a warmth spreading from within him that stays all the way back to his appartement.
December 22nd
The first thing Max notices when he wakes up is the cat that is sticking its butt into his face.
The second would be the pounding headache.
“I’ll feed you in a minute”, he groans at the cat and pinches his eyes close, trying to avoid any sudden confrontation with light. Whatever Oscar’s witch gave him can’t be that healthy. And yes, maybe the disgustingly sweet tea was stronger than he cared to admit yesterday.
After the cats are fed and Max has showered, he feels somewhat human again. Human enough to flop onto the couch and contemplate the past evening. Had he truly seen a vision of his younger self or was it the alcohol messing with his brain? The image had been blurry after all.
Even a quick lunch and two episodes of a random show later, he still doesn’t have his answer. But, there is something else that pops up in his head. He already went through with one of Oscar’s stupid advices, he might as well follow the other as well.
Gossip pages are found easily enough, Max being extra careful to not like any posts he scrolls past. The last thing he wants to be associated with is Lando talking with some hot Brunette at the club. Although, maybe his friend would find him liking the post funny, Max knows Lando was there for the Dutch DJ anyways.
Two posts later, Max knows exactly what Oscar, sorry, Oscar’s girlfriend of course, has found that would be of Max’s interest. Although, believing gossip pages is probably a stupid idea. Which is exactly why Max decides to check another, and the then next one, just in case.
Me
Hey
just saw the news
I am here if you need someone to talk to
Me
It’s of course fine if you don’t want to
What Max doesn’t send is I would never cheat on you. After over two decades spent together, on various karting tracks across Europe and then F1, Max hopes Charles knows he would never betray him.
Pushing limits on corners doesn’t count, of course.
The messages get delivered and read, Max makes sure to double-check. Maybe the breakup is the true reason Charles declined coming out with him.
“But why would he not tell me?”
The only reply Max gets from Sassy is an annoyed meow, before the cat leaps onto his lap, not caring what Max has to tell her as long as he scratches the soft fur between her ears.
“He always told me what was going on in his life, why is he so distant all of the sudden?” The cat uses Max’s dramatic pause to nudge her head against his belly, a small gesture of love Max appreciates more than the cat would ever understand. “He of course doesn’t need to tell me everything, but I feel like he doesn’t need me as a friend anymore, you know.”
When the sun starts setting and there is still no reply from Charles, Max decides he might as well give the cookies another try.
The Christmas village is just as crowded as it was the day before, and Max does feel like he will get framed as criminal, the way he checks his surroundings before sneaking a cookie from the pocket of his jacket. Like yesterday, the taste of vanilla and almond fills his mouth, a pleasant feeling flooding his body in an instant. Only that this time, the earth’s movement doesn’t change all of the sudden and Max’s footsteps remain steady as he makes his way past the wooden huts.
Ah, maybe alcohol and magic don’t mix. Lesson learned. Perhaps this is the universe’s way of telling him to not get drunk to an extend where he starts questioning his memory.
Only that after Max has paced the Christmas marked twice, he is still waiting for the drugs, or magic, to kick in. Charles hasn’t replied either and in combination with people now flocking the space, Max’s mood isn’t exactly improving.
“Fuck you!”
Max jumps at a voice etched deep into his memory, frozen in place once more as he frantically looks around to spot the source.
“No, fuck you!”
He spots them next to the hut that offers arcade games, Charles with his back to him still holding one of the balls he is supposed to toss at the stacked cans, only that he is now aiming it at a young Max who is looking as distressed as Max is feeling right now.
“It’s always the same with you, always.”
They were so young back then, feeling like they could take on the world in their bodies that slowly started to transform from boys to men. Looking at them now, Max feels the strong urge to protect them and tell them no stupid game is worth risking their friendship.
“Yeah, only now you decide to lose it, so.”
His little self shrugs, but Max knows how deeply hurt he was that day, how he spent the evening curled up in his bedroom and silently sobbing into his pillow, afraid his father would notice something was wrong with him. When he’d asked him later why he was no longer at the Christmas village and why his voice sounded so raspy, Max faked a cold.
“Oh, fuck off, Max!”
It had been a year of fighting for them, over corners on track, goals in FIFA and girls, no matter how stupid that aspect feels looking at it now. Everything they did was a challenge, every mistake made a victory for the other. Every good thing happening to one of them a loss for the other.
“Charles, wait!”
And off they go, Charles angrily tossing the ball at the cans, not caring that he knocks all of them over. And Max doesn’t care for his friend’s victory either, storming after him and not knowing yet that it would take weeks for them to fix their friendship.
The kids are gone and Max feels like he can breathe again, but what stays is the lingering feeling of anger, red and hot and so intense Max doesn’t quite know who it belonged to in first place.
December 23rd
There are telltale signs that Max has slept in late. His cats scratching the bedroom door is one of them. Waking up to a message from none other than Oscar Piastri is another.
Oscar
Found true love yet?
Me
Mate
If you’re looking for a new year’s resolution,
how about not believing dumb shit you see online?
Oscar
I take that as a no.
Max decides to ignore Oscar in favour of checking on Charles, but neither his message nor the actually really unfunny reel about sausage dogs vs. snow he sent have been answered. Considering how small Monaco is, it would be easy to simply walk over to Charles’ place and refuse to leave until he knows how Charles is feeling about his Ex cheating on him.
Except that he has learned the hard way that Charles always gets what he wants and if Max begs him a million times to be let in, Charles will turn him down a million and one times.
So he does what any good man on the brink of insanity would do: He grabs his coat and heads to the Christmas village once more as soon as the sun has set and the tiny lights all over the city have been turned on.
Still, without Charles by his side, Max can’t quite find the magic. Without Charles, the lights are just that, not a million tiny stars lighting up the city and warming hearts from within. Besides, the closer to Christmas, the fuller the little village, so Max finds himself walking around it, rather than right through.
Not wanting to spend a minute longer than necessary out here, Max practically inhales one of the cookies. And as if his body knows what to expect by now, it doesn’t take more than the blink of an eye for the silhouettes to start taking shape in front of him.
They are much closer this time, Max could easily tap Charles’ shoulder if he was able to move. Instead, he once again stares at the two of them, unable to turn away from a memory he wishes he didn’t have.
“I just don’t get it.”
His little self sounds so defeated, leaning against the back of a wooden hut and staring at his feet, his voice slightly more raspy than usual. Everyone else might have blamed it on puberty, but Max knows how much strength it had taken him that day to not burst into tears while meeting with Charles.
“I know that I of course can’t tell anyone because we can’t risk losing the contract.”
It was supposed to be the best Christmas ever, the last one before Max would become an F1 driver. Looking back, he doesn’t know why that had given him the confident to come out to his parents just before Christmas. His Mom was supportive, of course. But his dad?
When Max remembers this particular Christmas now, he can’t find any warmth in it.
“I of course don’t need him to celebrate me, but…”
His younger self trails off, kicking a small pebble instead of sharing his thoughts that are so clearly written on his face. If he could, Max would run over to him and give him the hug he longed for that evening. He knows that he and his Dad would eventually work out a mutual understanding where Max’s sexuality would never be brought up again in turn for the cold treatment to stop.
But his little self doesn’t.
“Does that change how you think of me?”
The uncertainty on his face as he finally dares to glance at Charles would be enough to break Max’s heart like it did that day. Except he doesn’t feel sad right now, looking at the boys from a decade ago. Instead, he feels nervous, like he could make a mistake any second now.
“That I, you know,” his younger self’s voice drops down to a whisper, “like boys?”
“Absolutely not!” Without seeing him, he can feel Charles’ face turn beet red in an instant. Max almost jumps at Charles’ defence, until he can see his younger self visibly relax. “I just don’t know what to say.”
“Oh.”
“I think he will focus on getting you to win races soon.”
There is a long pause, and despite the magic rendering him unable to move, Max feels the strong urge to fidget or to tell his younger self to say something, as he feels like his heart might fall out of his chest from beating so quickly any second now. Just when he thinks he can no longer take it, Charles is the one to speak up again and break the tension.
“Hey, do you want to eat cotton candy?”
No, he doesn’t. It’s way too sweet and makes his fingers sticky in a way that is unpleasant. But when Charles is the one asking, there is only one answer.
“Sure!”
Max watches fondly, as the memory disappears, sadness once more transformed into joy. What remains is a weird feeling, one he can’t quite name. His head is spinning, but not like it did when he mixed magic and alcohol. Instead, his brain currently acts like its processing information he has known basically all his life. Why on earth would he be surprised that he is into men now all of the sudden?
Maybe it has to do with the magic, maybe his little self was more confused how to figure things out than he remembers. And it had been confusing times for sure, after all Charles had slowly turned into someone Max loved a little more than just as a friend.
And then there also is this bubbly feeling in his chest, the one that feels awfully like hope.
December 24th
Max is going to give this alleged magic one more try.
Later, he might stop by at his Dad’s place, send Charles another text and pray for a reply this time.
Tomorrow, he’ll be walking over to his mother’s place and celebrate Christmas with her and his sister’s family, his nephews hugs undoubtedly the cure for any heartbreak he’s suffered throughout the year.
Tonight, he chooses to believe.
There are five cookies left, all of which Max stuffs into his mouth the second the Ferris wheel starts moving. The cashier hadn’t exactly been happy when Max asked him to let him ride on his own in the little gondola but accepted the second Max told him he would pay for the kids queueing right behind him.
Right now, he would certainly prefer to have someone by his side, as the Ferris wheel not only starts moving, but the gondola decides to spin, pressing Max firmly into his seat as it goes faster and faster. And just when he thinks he might pass out, pinching his eyes shut, the movements stop altogether.
“I of course know this is safe, but it doesn’t feel like it.”
There is a bright chuckle sounding close to Max’s ear, one he immediately recognizes belongs to Charles. When he opens his eyes, he finds bright blue eyes staring right back at him.
“Yeahyeahyeah, don’t talk your way out of this now, you are scared!”
The words appear to come from his own mouth, but it’s undoubtedly Charles speaking. Besides, Max remembers the evening fondly, their most recent trip to the Christmas village, Charles insisting to celebrate Max’s third championship win by dragging him onto the Ferris wheel.
“I’m not scared, I just think this is a safety hazard, so.”
There is a light blush coating Max’s, his but at the same time not his, face. Looking back, Max doesn’t quite remember if it’s been due to the cold or the way Charles stared at him, green eyes sparkling as he laughs. It’d taken him all his strength to not lean over and kiss him on the spot.
“Which is completely different.”
Even now, Max feels so warm inside he only faintly registers the cold creeping from the metal the gondola is made out of into his bones.
“Of course.”
And when Max smiles, his eyes nearly disappearing before leaning closer to Charles, to him, his heart almost misses a beat.
“Three championships and he is scared of a Ferris wheel,” Charles teases and Max nudges him playfully, sending sparks flying through his body.
“Anything else you have to say?”
Max remembers the reply all too well. Something along the lines of how Charles would do his very best to make sure Max would remain a three times world champion.
But these are not the word he hears in his, in Charles’ head. Instead, it only takes three short words to send Max’s whole world spinning.
I love you.
Max doesn’t know how he makes it back to the ground safely, how he is able to stumble away from the Ferris wheel, through the crowd of people, without running someone over.
There is absolutely no way he is going to go see his father tonight, the last person he expects to understand his emotional turmoil. Instead, he aimlessly wanders the Christmas village, the world around him a blur.
Charles loves him, has loved him for at least an entire year. Charles, who has been the star of his wildest dreams for ages, the one he thought he’d never have a chance to openly love, afraid of ruining their friendship, worried what the world might think. Charles, who up until now has never as much as hinted that he would even be interested in men.
Maybe, Max thinks, he can pride himself with being the exception.
“Max?”
It takes him a moment to register that the voice is not a hallucination. After everything that has happened in the past minutes, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was. But Charles is real, standing in front of a gigantic Christmas tree, Leo excitedly pacing in front of him.
“Charles? What are you doing here?”
It would be easy for him to accuse Charles of not wanting to come along with him, but right now Max can’t help but thank whatever magic brought them here together. Charles looks stunning as always, hair artfully tousled and skin glowing amidst the Christmas lights.
“Leo needed some fresh air.”
Max steps closer to greet the dog that is excitedly licking his hands. When he looks back up, he finds Charles staring at him expectantly, as if he wants to get a proper read on the situation and is waiting for Max’s next move.
“Good to see you, mate.”
Which would be wrapping his arms around Charles and pulling him into a tight embrace. Usually, they keep their distance, opting for friendly handshakes or a pat on the shoulder, the consequence of years spent fighting and finding one another again. Usually, Max likes to keep a little distance, afraid he might start confessing if he got to close. Right now, however, Max would melt into Charles if he could. Judging by the way Charles grasps onto his back, he is not the only one.
“You too.” Charles is the first to pull away, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. “I’m sorry I cancelled the other day.”
“It’s fine.”
And really, it is. If not for Charles cancelling, he wouldn’t have met the old lady with her magical cookies.
“And sorry for not texting back, it’s just-“
“I of course saw the gossip, you must be sad that someone would betray you like that.”
Max offers condolences, even though he is not really sorry. He never liked Charles most recent girlfriend anyways, not that he would ever openly admit that. From the moment he was introduced to her during the season, he’s felt like she was a short-term solution, someone that was supposed to distract Charles from something else.
Now he knows it’s been him.
“Ah no!” Charles eyes widen before he stares down to where Leo is happily gnawing on his shoelace. “I am actually quite happy it’s over.”
“How come?”
“Max!” Charles sighs, drawing out his name and bending down to stop his dog from destroying his shoes he probably spent a little fortune on. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Mate, you literally bring up my crush on Daniel every time we see one another, and that was years ago, so.”
And looking back, it was nothing compared to what he fels for Charles, even back then.
“Yeahyeahyeah, ‘cause you bring up Daniel every time we meet, mate, I don’t think you ever stopped loving him.”
And oh.
That actually explains a lot.
“There is of course a difference between crushing on a pretty coworker and loving someone. Besides, there is someone I am actually in love with, been for a while, and it’s definitely not Daniel.”
“Who?” Once more, Charles face lights up with excitement at the new information. “Come on, you have to tell me!”
“Now you’re changing the topic.”
It would be so easy to tell him, right here and now, now that he knows he is not risking anything anymore. But teasing Charles, playing with his excitement and seeing him getting frustrated while still grinning has always been one of Max’ favourite things, so he decides to draw this out a little longer.
“Then don’t just say that!”
“Now, why are you happy your Ex cheated on you?”
Max nudges Charles, but instead of answering he looks down where Leo is pulling on the leash, clearly tired of waiting for his owner to sort out his feelings.
“Wanna go for a walk?”
As if Max would ever say no to Charles. He’d follow him anywhere, especially now that Charles has switched to light conversation, commenting on the Christmas village, telling Max about his family and Leo off for wanting to chase after a cat.
“Remember when we first met?”
Max stops them in front of a hut selling sweets, handing the lady in charge money for cotton candy. The red one, of course, he knows Charles would never accept anything blue from his hands.
“Back when you liked sweets.”
“I of course still like sweets, but this is like shovelling sugar into your mouth.”
“Perfect for off season, non?”
He silently hands the cotton candy to Charles and gets placed in charge of Leo’s leash in return.
“Thank you!”
They walk quietly for a while, Charles happily munching on his cotton candy and Max busy keeping an eye on Leo who he still doesn’t trust to not run off the second he spots something exciting. Tiny legs or not, he knows how fast Charles’ furry companion is.
“It’s because I love someone else.”
Only after the cotton candy is fully eaten, Charles decides to speak up, his voice low as they come to a halt where their little tour started, right in front of the Christmas tree. His focus is once again on Leo, the little dog happy to be back with his owner and Max relieved he doesn’t have to pay attention to him, as everything he is able to process right now are Charles’ words to him.
About him.
“Someone I’ve known for quite a long time, but I never thought he’d love me back.”
It’s a vague explanation, and if Max didn’t already know it was him, he would’ve missed the clues for sure. Given the information he has thanks to Christmas magic however, it takes him everything to not start beaming along with the Christmas lights behind them.
“And I am scared of ruining our friendship, so I thought I’d be fine just loving him from a distance, but turns out I am not.”
Max huffs at that.
“Yeah, I can relate.”
“Really?”
Charles looks at him with those big eyes he could drown in, clearly hoping for a way to sort out his problem. Only that the solution that Max has to offer is likely better than whatever Charles is currently thinking he might get.
“But I think I have found a way to work it out, so it should be fine.”
“Come on, tell me please!”
Even Leo is staring at Max now, looking like he silently judges him for not helping Charles out.
“Took a trip down the memory lane.”
Later, one day, he will explain the entire story to Charles. Maybe Oscar would bring it up at their wedding, who knows. But right now, there is only one thing left to say, the one information that matters.
Max takes a deep breath and decides he is tired of hiding his feelings, tired of hiding his smile, tired of not loving Charles the way he knows no one else can.
He grabs his hand, the one not pulling on Leo's leash, urges Charles to look at him instead of the dog.
Green meets blue. Sky and stormy sea. Two kids born sixteen days apart, their lives forever entwined.
Max is ready.
“Turns out you loved me back all along.”
Max barely gets the words out before Charles practically throws himself into his arms, nearly knocking him over in the process of doing so.
And while yes, realistically speaking he’s known that Charles would be good at kissing, experiencing it firsthand might be the best Christmas present Max has gotten in a while. A lot of conversations will need to be held, things will need to be sorted out, but right now the only thing that matters are Charles lips on his and the faint taste of cotton candy that sticks to them.
For once, Max doesn’t mind the sweetness one bit.
Merry Christmas.