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Max had managed to drag Checo celebrating this time, citing his championship win. The older man had been very reluctant, tired, and overall not particularly happy, but he had agreed after Max had pouted at him for five minutes.
Max wanted to see more of Checo than he did. For no particular reason. They saw each other a lot, to be sure, but with Checo all the way in Mexico the pair of them never saw each other outside of race weekends and when their time at the factory lined up.
It was not enough.
So, Max dragged Checo out to the clubs and made sure to stay by his side to make sure he was having a good time. Checo was a bit awkward at first, given that phonk-blaring dark clubs were no longer his scene, but after a few tequilas he was all in.
He was a bit too in, Max thought as he saw one of Martin’s friends circle the Mexican, who was swinging his hips like there was no tomorrow.
The moment Martin’s stupid friend put his hand on Checo’s waist Max walked away from the drinking contest he was supposed to be participating in and rushed over, wrapping an arm around Checo and glaring at the guy.
“No,” he said, angry.
Checo grinned widely at him, looking up at him. “Maaax!” He shouted. “Heeey!”
Maybe he had had more than a few tequilas.
“Woah, bro,” said the idiot friend. “We weren’t doing anything yet, mate.”
“He’s my teammate,” Max hissed and turned around, dragging Checo behind him.
“ Hasta luego ,” said Checo to the guy as he was led away.
Max kept his hand wrapped around Checo’s wrist the rest of the time they were in that particular club, talking to him about a recent cheetah nature documentary he had seen while the older man stared at him blankly and blinked occasionally.
Eventually, they got into a limousine and ended up in a casino, in the front row of tables of a theatre to watch a magician show. Max made sure Checo sat next to him, the older man looking a bit more sober and tired by then, and sipped his cocktail.
Checo was nearly falling asleep on his shoulder when loud drums and music started playing, startling him awake and making Max laugh.
Some people cheered as the curtains opened and a tall man appeared wearing a ridiculous cape. Checo’s eyes lit up and he clapped clumsily, turning to smile at Max.
“I never have come to one of these,” Checo told him. “Thanks, Max!”
It had actually been Martin’s idea, but Max was not about to let him know that.
“My name!” The magician thundered. “Is Marcus Maximus! And I am here…” he smirked, “to amaze you–” a flash of smoke, “amuse you–” the drums played, “and frighten you–” the lights flickered.
But Max was focused on Checo, who was looking at the stage with wide eyes, completely into the show. Max hummed, satisfied, and took another sip of his cocktail. Ooh, it had hints of strawberry in it, yummy.
The show got going and it was…fine. It was fine. It was all bullshit and Max was progressively getting even more drunk as he ordered more and more cocktails, but Checo seemed to like it when the man pretended to cut his assistant in half.
At one point, Maximus the magician asked for a volunteer and Checo raised his hand, looking frankly insane, but the stupid wizard chose some old guy. As Checo pouted next to him, Max swore to do violence to the wizard.
Maximus made the old man hold up items while the wizard guessed what they were blindfolded, so it was not like Checo was losing out on much, but still.
The next time the magician asked for a volunteer, Checo once again raised his hand and Max pointed at him with his drink, scowling at the magician in threat.
“Ah, you, sir!” Maximus said, gesturing to Checo.
Max smiled.
“Come up here, my handsome, enthusiastic fellow!”
Max scowled again.
Their party group cheered as Checo went over to the stage, looking a bit more sober yet still sorta kinda really not.
When the magician put his hand on Checo’s waist, Max choked on his cocktail.
“Look at you,” Maximus told an attentive Checo. “What’s your name, darling?”
“Eh, hi,” Checo said, waving to the crowd (who were all so drunk that they cheered in an overly loud manner), “I’m Checo.”
“And why are you in Vegas, Checo?”
“Uh, I came for the F1 race,” Checo explained, not giving more details.
The bastard didn’t recognize Checo? Fuck him, thought Max, giving him the stink eye.
“How lovely,” the magician said, not sounding interested. “Now, Checo darling, has anyone ever told you you look like a sweet little bunny?”
Max gaped as Checo blushed, shaking his head adorably on stage. Did the stupid wizard have no shame? And how dare he compare Checo to a bunny? Bunnies were…nice. They were nice, yes. And now that he thought about it, Checo did look like a sweet little bunny. FUCK.
“Well, you do!” The magician insisted when Checo tried to wave him away. “And now for my next trick, I– the great Marcus Maximus –will make it a reality!”
Everyone cheered.
The magician led Checo to lay down on a cushioned table– which did not make Max feel things, not at all –and after a cheeky pat on his cheek covered him in a cloth.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I learned the art of transformation in the hands of an immortal monk in the hills of Peru,” Maximus said, “I saw him turn an emperor into a llama and a thief into a guinea pig! And then eat him!”
Max scoffed. Now, this was getting too far fetched.
He had never eaten guinea pig. Had Checo eaten guinea pig? Should Max take Checo to Peru to eat guinea pig?
…what the hell was a guinea pig? Was that the– no, that was a capybara. Was it the big hamster thing? That sounded right.
Also– wasn’t that the plot of the Emperor’s New Groove? This guy was a fraud!
“Watch! And fear me!”
Maximus started to spin the table, making the blanket over Checo flare dramatically.
Uh, Checo was drunk under there, thought Max. What if he vomited under there? Yuck.
With a flourish, the magician took the cloth off and brought the spinning to an end, revealing a small and fluffy black rabbit underneath.
As everyone gasped and clapped, Max blinked.
“And now,” Maximus said, “the lovely Checo has been turned into a lovely lopped bunny!” He bowed as everyone cheered.
Max stayed frozen as the bunny in the table was rolled off the stage and the magician continued with his act.
Holy fuck, the bastard had done it.
Checo was a bunny.
Checo was a bunny and the man did not turn him back! Where were they taking Checo? Max panicked and stood up, running to the door. He had to get backstage and rescue Checo! He went out the door running and slammed full force into the opposite wall with a thunk, dropping to the floor.
He groaned pathetically and closed his eyes.
Hmm. The carpet was very comfy– Checo!
Max opened his eyes and jumped up, then put his hand over his mouth as he felt the need to puke. He had had about six cocktails, for crying out loud, apart from the many other drinks he had had during the night…it was fine. He was fine.
He went down the hallway, grinning maniacally when he saw a black door that said Staff Only .
He hummed a spy tune as he went into the brightly lit hallway, stumbling around like a lunatic until he saw it.
Stage Door Three
Eureka, motherfucker.
Max shoved the door open, falling through to a dark area with a bunch of chairs stacked up next to it.
Checo. Bunny. Checo bunny. Chebun. Where was Chebun?
He sniffed around backstage, encountering an alarmingly low amount of personnel (what cheap-ass hellhole had they ended up in?)
Eventually he ended up in what he assumed was the wizard’s dressing room and there, in a sad corner, was Checo in a cage. A cage!
“Don’t worry, Checo,” Max whispered to his bunnified teammate as he walked up to the cage. “I’ll get you out.”
What was the psychopathic Maximus planning by kidnapping Checo like this? Whatever it was, Max would not permit it. He shook the lock for five minutes before giving up. Groaning, he left Checo with a promise to return and went backstage in search of a toolbox.
When he returned with some pliers, Checo was still sitting there in a cage, surrounded by hay.
“You’ll be out soon, liefje,” Max promised. He used the pliers to unhook the metal bars of the cage to the base and reached forward, scooping up the bunny with one hand and bringing him to close his chest.
Checo stared up at him, droopy ears framing his little rabbit face, and twitched his nose.
“My god,” Max sighed, “what a fucking disaster.”
“Hey!” A tall man appeared at the door of the dressing room. “What are you doing here?”
Shit.
Desperate, Max chucked the pliers at the man and ran for his life when he fell backwards, jumping over him to head back the way he came. He went out into the staff hallway and then into the casino, holding Checo close to his chest at all times. Feeling sick due to all the movement, he shoved his way out through an emergency exit and came out into a dark Las Vegas hallway.
“Checo, I really want to puke right now,” Max said. “But don’t worry, I can wait.”
Shivering in the cold night air, Max walked out of the alleyway and huffed when he saw he was nowhere near the Strip. He balanced Checo, who was being very chill for a human turned into an animal, and took his phone out. Should he call someone from the team? No, because then he would have to explain Checo’s situation. If Horner discovered that Checo was a bunny, he might want to arrange a replacement for Qatar, and Max was sure that he could get Checo back to normal by then. Hopefully the spell would wear off in a few hours…
He ordered an Uber that arrived quickly and settled in the back with a contented sigh. He put Checo in the seat next to him and patted his back with a little smile.
“I’ll take care of you,” he said softly, hoping Checo could still understand him. “I’m sorry I let this happen.” Still pretty drunk, he teared up suddenly. “I’m really sorry,” he said again, not sure if was still apologizing for the bunny situation or something else. He scooped Checo up and brought him to his lap. “I won’t let you go, I swear,” he said tearfully.
The driver, thankfully, never even turned his head back once during the whole ride. When Max got off the car outside their hotel, he opened the app and gave the man a very large tip.
“Okay,” Max said as he walked into the hotel. “Um, do you mind if we go up in my room?” He asked Checo.
The bunny stared up at him blankly.
Maybe Checo was still drunk. And as a bunny? There was a lot of alcohol in that little body.
Max got into the lift and yawned. “My god, I’m tired,” he told Checo, holding him against his side with one hand. “Are you tired? I bet you are. Thank you for coming out with me, mate. I’m always happy when we celebrate together.”
The lift dinged and he came out into his floor, grateful that the corridors appeared to be empty.
As he reached his room, the bunny in his arms started to shuffle and squirm. Max cooed at him, entering the room and closing the door behind them.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Max whispered. He speedwalked over to the bed and dropped the bunny on the comforter. “Um, I’m going to go vomit now and…yeah, sorry—“ he ran into the bathroom, saw the toilet lid was closed, and bent over the sink, finally letting the sins of the night pour out.
He was there a while, teary eyed and red in the face when he was finally done. He fell to his knees in front of the sink with a sigh. “Mistakes were made,” he groaned, “mistakes were made.”
He heard a shuffle next to him and turned, squinting, to see Checo at the foot of the door. The bunny was staring at him, its tiny nose shaking.
Max offered him a tired smile. “I’m okay, Checo, don’t worry, mate,” he said. “Um, let me take a shower and clean this, of course, and I will get you some food, yes?”
After a moment, the bunny hopped out of the bathroom.
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“Okay,” Max said softly as he watched Checo eat from his plate of vegetables. “If you’re not fine by morning, we’re going to Peru to fix this before Thursday. Somehow. I promise.”
The bunny kept eating.
Max giggled, reaching over to pet its little head. “Someone’s hungry,” he said.
He was naked but for his boxers and a complimentary hotel robe. He had taken an Ibuprofen and eaten a plate of kebabs, ordering an assortment of veggies and berries for Checo.
“I’m sorry about your race,” he whispered, laying down on the bed so he was facing the plate. “I feel like I don’t say it enough. I’m sorry about your season. I’m sorry about a lot of things.”
The bunny kept on munching, but its eyes flickered over to Max.
“I, I don’t really know how to, erm, be a teammate, I think. With Daniel, I knew I would surpass him and we were friends. Pierre and Alex…I never supported them. I was better, I didn’t need them, so when the team mistreated them I didn’t care.” He looked at Checo, “and then you came along and I respected you, of course, but I thought you would be like them. Stupid, of course. I couldn’t possibly neglect you…you came in like a bull.”
The bunny had finally had his fill and he hopped away from the plate. Max picked it up and put it on the bedside table before getting comfortable under the sheets. Checo hopped on the pillow next to him and got comfortable as well.
Max brought his hand up and started to play gently with his fur.
“I don’t want you to leave. Promise me you won’t?”
The bunny did nothing.
“Of course it’s selfish,” Mad admitted. “I know you’re probably sick of us all after this year. I’m fed up as well, of course. I am…sad. Disappointed with Christian. I am sad about Daniel, still. And I know I just won the championship, so you’re probably thinking I’m just a whiny cunt, but—“ Max sighed. “Next year won’t be better, it’ll probably be worse, jesus fuck, so if you’re not by my side I don’t know how I am supposed to get through it.”
The bunny shuffled closer to him, bumping noses with him. Max sneezed then laughed, bringing his arms around Checo and hugging him to his chest.
“Sorry if this sounds rude, but I am really glad Stroll fired you when he did. You are a very, very lovely teammate.” Max chuckled, blushing. “A lovely person, in general. And I’m sorry that Red Bull hasn’t been able to give you the family Racing Point did.” He took a shuddering breath. “Can you understand me?”
The bunny did not respond, staying still in his hold.
Max swallowed, eyes on the dark ceiling. “I’m going to say it,” he whispered. “And maybe I am a coward, saying it when you’re like this when I’ve felt this way for so long…Checo, I am in love with you.”
Nothing.
Max kept going.
“It’s not a recent thing, this. I, I’m gay. Which, maybe you’ve noticed,” Max hummed. In his private life and within the team, he did not really hide it. “And um, when I joined the grid, I developed a bit of a crush. On you. Fuck, this is so embarrassing and I can’t believe I am saying this to a fucking bunny.”
The bunny twitched.
“You were just so handsome and, and manly, but you were nice to me. Everyone talked about me like I was the worst fucking thing to happen to motorsport and you were just so lovely.” Max closed his eyes, smiling as a reel of memories played on his eyelids. “You are always lovely. And when you became my teammate,” he giggled. “I don’t know how I’ve made it this long without letting you know how I feel.”
The bunny’s ears twitched and it hopped out of Max’s hold.
The Dutchman sat up quickly, gagging only for a second, panicked. “You don’t have to feel the same!” He said. “I don’t expect you to, of course. Like I said, you’re so handsome and I’m…well, I’m not Charles, am I? Or Lewis, I know you like him.”
The bunny did not move further away.
Max was quiet, then he bit his lip. Surely he could make his case? “I know I’m ugly,” he said quietly. “And my eyes are too far apart and I’ve got too many wrinkles already and, and I’ve got a few rolls in my hips…but I do love you. I’m funny, I think, so I would make you laugh if you were my boyfriend. I’m rich, so I’d buy you nice things. I’m good with kids, so I could get along with Checo and the rest of your children. Eh, I’m a cuddler? So I would give you many hugs when you need them.” He straightened up, gaining confidence. “I’m a decent cook, I’m pretty clean, I can do the dishes when you don’t want to. I’m good with dogs, too! And, well it’s weird to say this to a rodent, but I give good blowjobs. And I’m good at sex, so. I, just, ugh— listen, mate, if you’re looking for someone…I’m here. I’ve been here. I love you.”
Max collapsed back on the bed. What a stupid situation. As if Checo would ever like him. He huffed. “My god, I hope you can’t understand me. Forget about it, I’m drunk. I don’t want us to stop being friends, just ignore me, okay?”
But the bunny hopped back to him and climbed on his chest, settling down in his belly and closing its eyes to sleep.
Inexplicably, Max teared up at the sight. He wanted the real Checo with him, to feel his body at his side and hold him properly. He hoped and prayed that when he woke up, Checo would be free of the spell. He would never forgive himself if Checo was stuck like that because of Max.
Max didn’t remember falling asleep, but he was woken up by a loud clutter near the bed. He woke up with a little jump, then winced as the sunlight hit his eyes point blank. He groaned, twisting away from the window, and opened his eyes again.
No bunny on the bed.
“Checo?” He called out sleepily. “Are you back?” He sat up, starting to smile until he saw the little brown creature stuck under the laundry holder, squished and miserable-looking.
“No, no, no, no,” Max muttered, rubbing his face. How was Checo still a fucking bunny? How was this real life?
The bunny squealed, thumping its feet against the carpet and Max jumped off the bed.
“Sorry, let me get that off you, mate.”
When Checo was freed, he hopped to a corner of the room and huddled. Max stared after him with a sigh.
“Peru it is, then,” he said. “Let me shower, okay? And I’ll figure out something to tell the team. I should probably call your brother or someone, who would you like?”
Not a peep.
Max sighed. “Right,” he muttered. What a fucking disaster. “Hey, why don’t we go down for breakfast, okay? Change the scenery before we leave.”
Nothing. It looked like Checo was upset.
“I’m trying, okay, mate?” Max asked desperately. “Please don’t be angry with me. I’ll fix this, I swear.”
Checo’s lopped ear twitched. Max took it as a win.
“Hey, man,” was the first thing Lewis said to him in the lift, still dressed in his long sleep robe. “Is that a rabbit?”
Max accepted the fist bump, holding Checo close. “Uh, yeah,” he said nervously. “Championship gift.”
Lewis hummed, then returned to his phone.
Fuck fuckity fuck, why did Mercedes share a hotel with Red Bull?
Max looked him over. “Strange seeing you out and about in your pajamas,” he noted.
“Got the munchies,” Lewis shrugged, “I’m craving an American waffle before I go back up.”
“You couldn’t order room service?”
“Are you really that bothered by my PJs, man?”
Max looked away, embarrassed. He was just annoyed at encountering someone he knew with Chebun in his arms. “Sorry,” he said.
Lewis chuckled. “Relax, man,” he said as the lift came to a stop— not in the lobby. Tenth floor.
Oh. Lewis had been in one of the floors above Red Bull’s, not in Mercedes’ floor. And he was in his pajamas because…naughty, naughty.
Max laughed quietly as Lewis got off with a wink.
Max frowned then and looked down at Checo. “Only Mercedes and us are in this hotel, so who…?” Oh, yes. Britney was in town. “I’m sure you will be spreading this around the moment you’re back to your normal self, won’t you?” Checo could not keep a secret for the life of him. It was something that, like being late, Max typically did not like. But with Checo…everything was different with Checo.
When he got out of the lift and headed over to one of the open restaurants, he tried to look normal. Given that he had a bunny in one hand, he failed.
People stared at him as he walked by, but thankfully nobody brave or familiar enough to approach. He made it all the way to the glass doors of the restaurant, smiling slightly at the attendant that reached over to open it, stepped forward to go in and—
—bumped into Checo as the man was stepping out.
Literally. They hit chests and Max had to scramble to not drop the bunny.
what the fuck
Checo! Human Checo! Handsome, manly tan Checo with the beginnings of a beard stood in front of him.
Stood in front of him…scowling?
Max gaped, but Checo just huffed and walked past him.
Max looked down at the bunny, who stared silently back. “Who the fuck are you!?” He said, then turned around and called, “Checo!”
Checo ignored him.
Max ran after him, bunny in hand, and shoved his way into the lift Checo had just stepped into.
“Checo!” Was all Max could say.
“Si, si, 'Checo,'” the older man mocked. “Congratulations, man. You know my name.”
“You’re here!”
That visibly bothered his teammate, who turned to glare up at him. He was dressed in a pair of green shorts and a washed out pink hoodie, looking pretty hangover. And just pretty in general.
“Surprised?” Checo demanded. “Yeah, it was hard getting back here after you fucked off last night.”
“Huh?”
Checo sighed and turned away again. “Forget it, Max. I just…stupid. What did you even do? I looked for you at the casino for over an hour, all your friends left without me, and had to call Alice for a ride— she was not happy, by the way,” he muttered.
“You were at the casino?”
Checo laughed incredulously. “Eh, yeah? Where else? I was backstage taking some photos with some fans that work at the casino, and when I returned to my seat you were gone! I paid your bill, by the way. Asshole.”
The lift stopped and Checo stormed out while Max stared after him. No, no, no, how could he have fucked this up? It didn’t make sense! Checo was a bun— oh. Yeah, okay. He supposed Checo’s version made more sense. Max looked down sadly at Chebun and chased after Checo, getting in between him and his hotel room door.
“Let me explain!” He cried, “I thought you were a bunny!”
Checo blinked at him, curling his lip. “What?”
Max raised up the bunny, smiling sheepishly. “The magician turned you into a bunny—“
“Are you fucking serious—?”
“And I went to rescue you backstage—“
“Did you steal a rabbit—?”
“Because I was worried—“
“What the fuck did you drink!?”
“And I brought you back here—“
“I can’t believe this shit.”
“And fed you and took care of you!” Max huffed. “I was worried sick! And drunk! And crying because it was my fault you were a rabbit and I love you and I bought tickets to fucking Peru—“
A hand fell over his lips.
Checo was staring up at him, wide eyed. “You…what?” He breathed.
“Bought tickets to Peru,” came the muffled answer.
Checo removed his hand. “What? No,” he said with a frown.
Max spoke up before he could speak. “No, it’s okay, because you know how the magician said he learned his tricks in the hills of Peru? I figured I would take you, find someone who could help us, and then go to dinner. Have you had cuy before?”
Checo stared at him. He looked rather like the bunny at the moment.
Max smiled awkwardly. “It’s a famous dish?”
“I know what cuy is.”
“Oh, good,” Max chuckled. “I just learned about it last night, um, they put little tomatoes in them like hats!”
Checo was still frozen.
“I hear it tastes like chicken, I was actually looking forward to finding out—“
“They do,” Checo said absentmindedly, eyes shifting rapidly in thought.
“Oh! So you’ve had it. And they’ve got some great mountains, too, in Peru. Super colourful, for some reason, that’s where I was going to take you to—“
“Please stop fucking talking about Peru.”
Max’s mouth snapped shut.
Checo took a deep breath. He looked down at the bunny and slowly reached out to pet its head. “You thought I was a bunny,” he said softly. “And you rescued me from the magician because you were worried.”
“Yes,” Max breathed.
“And you brought me back here, fed me, took care of me.”
“Yes,” quieter.
“You watched over me all night and bought tickets to Peru,” Checo smiled softly then, still looking down. “Because you love me?” He looked up.
It was Max’s turn to go still.
How did—? He looked at Checo, then at the bunny. “Wait, you heard my confession?”
“Just now, yes,” Checo said gently, eyes crinkled as he looked up at him.
What? “But I said it last night to you? To the bunny?”
If anything, that just charmed Checo more. “You confessed your love to the bunny?” He asked, smile growing.
So he had not heard him. Right, because Checo was not a bunny. Then how had he— oh, shit. Idiot. Max had spilled the beans just now, hadn’t he?
“What did you tell me?” Checo asked, sounding genuinely curious. “Last night?”
“It’s—“ Max shook his head, looking down. “It’s stupid.”
“Please,” Checo insisted, stepping closer, the bunny looking annoyed between them. “Tell me.”
Max shook his head. It was one thing to word vomit to a rabbit whilst drunk, another to tell Checo the truth.
“Then I will, no?” Checo said, tilting his head to catch his gaze. “I love you.”
Max gasped. He stared at Checo, speechless.
“It’s a bit recent,” Checo started. “This feeling. I remember when you arrived at the paddock for the first time. You were some kid, with acne and big teeth. Me and Fernando, we were worried the press would eat you alive, but you stayed strong. Everyone was saying you were some arrogant little shit, but I remember how excited you were to be there when we met. And then you were just so good, so fast and talented and everyone was complaining about you, but…you were always so nice to me. Sweet.”
Checo smiled at him, raising a hand to pet his hair. “I wasn’t worried at all when we became teammates. Despite all the awful things I heard, I knew you were a good man. And these past years have proved it,” he whispered.
Max shook his head. “But what happened—“
“I don’t care,” Checo shrugged. “I don’t care, Max. I forgive you, if you’re sorry. I really don’t care, I love you,” he giggled. “I am in love with you.” He wrapped his hands around Max’s jaw. “My handsome champion. I love this face.”
Max stared at him with teary eyes. “You, you do?”
“I love your eyes, your little eh, crinkles? Crickling lines you get,” he emphasised his point by softly running his fingers over the edges of Max’s eyelids. “I love your body,” he moved his hands down to grip Max’s waist. “This waist, your hips, your tits, your thighs…”
Max closed his eyes, a small tear falling down his cheek. He didn’t know what to feel. Checo liked him. Loved him . He thought Max was handsome! Incredulity mixed with fear, wonder, and arousal. The bunny twitched in his hold and he forced himself to calm down.
Checo took his hands away, looking away. “You… do love me?” He asked nervously. “I, I heard you say-“
Now, the kiss should have been romantic. It would have been romantic. Maybe one day they would look back and decide it was romantic indeed. However, as it happened, what was meant to be a big wet kiss turned into a squished bunny that had had enough, squealed, and slammed his back paw against Max’s groin. Hard.
So instead of a kiss, Checo got spit on his face as Max gasped in pain then got headbutted as the Dutchman leaned over. The bunny fell to the floor and thumped its feet angrily, scowling up at them.
Angry brown bunny. Dutchman clutching his junk. Mexican covered in spit clutching his forehead.
A mess.
Checo was the first to recover. Disgusted, he wiped Max’s spit off his face (hopefully that spit would end up elsewhere in his body later on) and got his wallet out. He got the door open, picked up the bunny, and nudged Max inside.
Max straightened up as Checo put the bunny on the kitchenette counter, cringing at the entire situation.
Checo wiped his face with a paper towel and dug into the mini fridge for the bag of vegetables Xavi had shoved in there for him to use for snacks. He got some broccoli out and offered it to the bunny before turning to Max.
They looked at each other awkwardly.
“Cute bunny,” Checo said after a while, gesturing at the now happy rabbit munching on his vegetables.
“Heh, heh,” Max laughed, scrunching up his shoulders with a grin. “I thought so. He was you after all.”
Checo blushed, charmed.
Max cleared his throat and stepped closer. With one last look at the rabbit, he grabbed Checo’s hand and held it to his chest. “Um, these past twenty-four hours have been…insane,” he murmured, smiling with close lips. “I got super drunk, you got very very drunk–”
“It was not that bad–”
“Checo, baby, you were grinding on the server at the casino bar.”
Checo turned even more red, then shrugged. “It’s been a long year, you bought me a lot of tequila shots,” he said, embarrassed. Then he smiled. “I like it when you call me ‘baby.’”
Max reached up to flick a stray curl off Checo’s forehead. “Good,” he said softly.
“So,” Checo started, gaining confidence now. “You love me, no?”
Max nodded, biting his lip. “Now that I know how you feel, of course, I’m slightly sad you didn’t hear the speech I gave Chebun now, even if I was embarrassed afterwards,” he said.
Checo stared up at him amusedly. “‘Chebun’?” He questioned.
“As I said,” Max said as he cleared his throat, “I was very drunk.”
“It’s cute,” Checo said in that sweet high-pitched voice he got when he found Max particularly funny.
This time, the kiss was romantic.
Their lips met in a surge of passion, Max leaned down enough so that Checo did not have to get on his tiptoes. The past twenty-four hours faded away as their lips got acquainted with one another, their mouths seemingly fitting together perfectly.
Max got a hand on Checo’s dark curls as the older man pressed him against the counter, their feet tangling as they touched one another, gentle hands roaming over warm bodies.
The pause for air was momentary, barely there, and they dug back into the kiss with fiercer energy. Max’s hands wrapped themselves around Checo’s head and manoeuvred him with arousing ease while Checo boldly took hold of the younger man’s bottom, digging into the soft flesh that greeted him there.
Their chests were falling and rising rapidly, their manhoods getting as excited as their hearts, and it all no doubt would have lead to some very nice first time sex right here over the counter had the bunny not shoved a decorative plant over the edge of the table, making them jump.
They did not release their hold on each other even as they startled, giggling together as they turned to face the small animal. Max wrapped his arms around Checo’s neck, his waist held by the shorter man, and hummed. “That’s of course going to be an issue,” he joked.
“My daughters will love a bunny,” Checo said thoughtfully, resting his head on Max’s shoulder. “I hope they pick a better name than Chebun, though.”
Max laughed. He pressed a kiss against Checo’s forehead then caught his lips again. “I love you, liefje,” he whispered.
Checo’s perfect grin answered him. “Love you too, mi cielo,” he whispered back.
The bunny sneezed.
And they were laughing once more.