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Charles had grown greatly accustomed to the dynamic that he’d formed with several of the younger drivers – particularly Oscar and Ollie. Both of them were so ingrained in his life now that he barely thought about it in detail very much. Ollie needed a place to stay for the night? Charles’ door was wide open. Oscar needed advice with Lando? Charles would do his best to supply it.
Max had also gotten well acquainted with them, to the point where there were several instances of him saying “my boys” in regards to the younger two. Charles didn’t think much of it; after all, it was a pretty true statement. Several of his interactions with others gave him pause though.
*****
The first to ask him about it had been Carlos over winter break. They were grabbing lunch together, though that ended up with grabbing lunch and then bringing it back to Charles’ place. It was easier that way, better to avoid all the cameras since the season was starting up again.
It was all in all a normal afternoon. They sat on Charles’ couch with the TV on in the background, though neither of them were really watching it. Max was out so it was just Charles and Carlos, plus the animals of course. Leo jumped up next to Carlos and curled up by his side, lounging his head against the man’s hip.
Spending time with Carlos was now a rarer delight. Charles hadn’t really expected the whole transfer business – even with the paddock gossip channels. Finally getting some alone time with the other was long overdue. They spoke about everything and nothing, trying their best to avoid any discussion of the coming season though. Not just because they’d technically signed NDAs and all that other legal bullshit, but because getting away from the world of Formula 1 could be rather nice.
Carlos was going on about some trip he’d taken with his girlfriend recently when the apartment door opened.
Both men looked to the front entrance; Carlos looked far more confused than Charles though. “I thought you said Max was out, no?”
The individual that came into the living room wasn’t Max, though Charles already knew that – the man was expected to be dealing with Red Bull for at least another few hours. No, instead of Max, Ollie strolled into the room, a somewhat annoyed expression on his face. He must not have realized that Carlos was there because he broke into a tirade before he even made it completely in the room. “I’ve had it with Oscar. I don’t know what’s been going on but I’m ninety-percent certain that Lando’s behind most of it.” He huffed as he paced around the room. “He suddenly thinks he’s the master of relationships or something just because he’s been dating Lando longer than I’ve been dating Kimi as if he hasn’t nearly broken up with him like three times in the last season!” Ollie crossed his arms tight over his chest. “And he’s still got the whole media tricked that somehow he's the one that’s-” The younger turned to face Charles.
His face fell as he spotted Carlos on the couch. “Carlos is here.”
Charles gave him a smile. “He is, mon cœur.”
Ollie’s face became painted with a dark crimson. He dropped his head and quickly turned on his heels. “I’ll be in my room.” The young man stormed down the hall, leaving Carlos absolutely flabbergasted in his wake.
Carlos brows were screwed together in confusion, mouth slightly agape, as he looked at Charles. “Did he just say ‘my room’?”
Charles shrugged. “Yes?”
“He has a room in your apartment?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” From the first night that Ollie showed up on his doorstep, Charles knew that he was never going to leave the boy stranded. He would do whatever necessary to make sure that Ollie was well taken care of, that he always had a place to stay. There was more than enough space, and honestly even if there wasn’t, he was sure that he would have convinced Max to help him find a way to make it work.
Carlos leaned back on the couch cushions. “When did that happen? I thought all that adoption thing was Twitter nonsense.”
Charles rolled his eyes. “I didn’t actually adopt him.” Their meals were completely abandoned as the two men fell deeper into conversation. It turned out that Carlos had a mountain of questions that he wanted to ask.
How did Ollie end up staying in his apartment? What about the younger’s parents? Was Charles really ready to be a father?
He swiftly shut down that last one. “It’s not like that.”
Carlos raised a brow. “What else are you supposed to call it, hermano? You took the kid in, you’ve been watching over him, you–”
“You’re making it sound like he’s a little kid. Ollie’s twenty, he can handle himself.”
“Then why don’t you let him?” Carlos’ stare was piercing.
Charles chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought over the question. There was no easy way to answer that, no matter how hard he tried to lie his way out of it. The last thing he was going to do was to tell Carlos all about what happened that night, the state that Ollie had been in, the awful words that the younger had to endure from his parents. Ollie told him those things in confidence. No way was Charles going to throw away Ollie’s trust.
Instead, he took a breath and tried his best to rationalize his way through an answer. “He needed help; he really did.” He looked down at his hands. “I couldn’t turn him away, so I let him stay for as long as he needed. Before either of us knew it, weeks turned into months, and it just became normal for Ollie to be here.” Despite living without Ollie for far longer than with the younger, Charles couldn’t imagine going back to that. He’d taken Ollie in for real; there was no turning back from that.
Carlos shook his head. “Dios mío, Charles, and you still don’t think that kid thinks of you as his pseudo father?”
Now it was Charles’ turn to turn his head, fighting back a blush that he would never admit to. Maybe Carlos’ words had more merit than he was giving them credit for.
*****
The next time someone had said something to Charles was Lewis during testing.
He hadn’t been able to see Oscar or Ollie much due to their conflicting schedules – getting things together to make sure he saw Max more than once was even difficult – and Charles was truly feeling it. The domestic bliss of winter break was over and now it was go-time.
He sat in the Ferrari garage, looking over numbers. He’d been looking at numbers all damn week, and for once they were showing him pretty good results. His head was a mess, as was his hair since he’d pulled off his helmet not that long ago. Charles chewed his lip, then brought his hand up and began to bite his nail. It was a bad habit, but he was antsy.
“You good, CL?”
Charles blinked a few times, pulling himself out of his gaze. “What? Oh, yeah, no, I’m alright.” He did his best to plaster on a smile that he hoped Lewis would believe.
Judging by the look he got back it didn’t work nearly as well as he would have hoped. “Something wrong?” Lewis took a seat next to him and began to scan his eyes over the numbers as well. “I’m really starting to think we might have a shot this year, and I’m not just saying that to the press.”
“Right.” Charles let out a breath.
There was a heavy pause.
“Seriously, man. Are you sure nothing’s up?” Lewis looked around the garage. “Something going on with you and Max?”
A small grin formed on Charles’ face. “You like gossip more than you let on.”
“No, I just know you.”
Charles wasn’t going to argue, to point out that both of those facts could be true. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair. “I think I just miss being back home right now.” That was rather hard to admit.
Lewis frowned. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
Charles let the question sit for a moment, mulling over what the other’s words could have meant. Then it dawned on him. “No!” He cringed at his exclamation. “No, of course not.” He wasn’t going to retire any time soon. Charles had plenty more racing years left in him. It was painfully ironic that Lewis of all people was asking him that, but Charles didn’t comment on that specific detail. “I just…”
What could he say? There were a million things he missed about being home. It was always nice to be back in Monaco, to sleep in his own bed, feel the warmth of Max’s arms around him as he slept, tease Ollie for his late night calls with Kimi, share dinners with his boys.
Shit. His boys.
That’s what they were, weren’t they? Charles could get away with saying such a thing about Max since they were dating and everything that came along with that, but Oscar and Ollie? Even after all the time that had passed since he’d pulled in the younger two, it still felt perhaps too possessive to call them his.
They were their own people. They had lives before him, outside of him, and they would continue to live their lives after him.
Charles’ breath hitched. What would a life like that look like? Obviously there was going to come a day when he didn’t wake up to Ollie in the kitchen, the day would come when Oscar didn’t come around quite so often. The thought disturbed him greatly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the two to live their own lives, to be fulfilled, it was just that Charles still wanted to be a part of that in whatever way he could. Was that absurd?
Charles didn’t realize Lewis’ hand was on his shoulder until the man gave it a gentle squeeze. “You know you can talk to me about anything?”
Charles could only swallow and nod.
“Right then. Do you want to tell me?”
For a moment, he thought about walking away – fleeing the scene and leaving Lewis in the dark as to what was going on with him. But Lewis was his friend; he deserved better than that. “I think I got too used to being around everyone at home. It’s odd not to have that now.”
“Everyone?” Lewis’ question was pushing but not probing.
“Oscar and Ollie.” Charles didn’t know why he was so frightened to get the names out. “Max too of course, but I miss having the boys around.” He was careful to keep his vocabulary as indiscriminate as possible. The last thing he needed was Lewis asking even more questions as to why he was calling Oscar and Ollie “his boys”.
Lewis pressed his lips into a line.
Charles could practically see the gears turning in the other's mind.
“Oscar and Ollie were visiting?”
Charles wanted to sink into the floor. “Oscar was.” He paused for a breath. “Ollie’s staying with Max and I at the moment.” For a lot of moments actually. There was so much that had gone down with Ollie while the younger was staying with them. Charles had already known that he was a sweet kid, but now that he saw Ollie from every angle, he knew just how kind the other could be.
“Oh.” It was impossible for Lewis to hide his shock, after all, it wasn’t the most casual or typical thing in the entire world. Charles could half believe the situation he’d gotten himself into.
Not that he would change any of it though.
Lewis leaned back a little. “Sounds like you took those posts pretty seriously then.”
“God, you sound like Carlos, LH.” Charles ran a hand down his face.
“It’s not everyday your friend announces he’s basically adopted two kids.” There was a tease in Lewis’ voice, but he still sounded earnest enough that Charles couldn’t get annoyed at him for the joke.
He shook his head instead and tried to refocus on the numbers — as if he didn’t have a team of people analyzing them to all hell far better than he ever could. “It’s not like that.” He still felt the need to correct. He wouldn’t go along seriously saying something like that without Oscar and Ollie’s input. They were too important to be left out of a decision like that.
Lewis laughed. “Sure it isn’t, mate.”
It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Charles had to ensure that.
*****
Pierre was the one to directly call Charles out on the situation. “You worry about those two like they’re your kids or something.”
Charles’ head whipped around. They’d been walking together before free practice. The ground was still slick with rain, and he kept a hold on his umbrella in case it started to pour again. “What are you talking about?”
Pierre rolled his eyes. “Come on. Don’t think you can hide your little family group chat from me forever. I know all.”
Charles shoved the other lightly. “Are you stalking my brothers and I now?”
“Not that group chat.” Pierre shoved him back. “The other one with your sons.” There was a sly grin on his face as he asked the question.
Charles seized up for a moment. Really, he would have thought that he was better at hiding those sorts of things after being in the public eye for so long, then again, he’d known Pierre for what felt like forever. Of course the other was able to figure those sorts of things out. “They aren’t my sons. I’m just looking out for them.”
“Neither of them are rookies anymore.” Pierre pointed out. “Oscar’s on his what? Fourth season? Ollie’s on his second now. I think they’ve got a good handle on it.” He was trying to be supportive, Charles knew that, but it still got under his skin in a way only his friends could succeed at.
He huffed and began walking faster down the street.
“Hey!” Pierre rushed after him.
Charles ignored him.
“Charles, putain, come on!” Pierre was more than a little exasperated.
Unfortunately, Charles was too. He flitted through the array of personnel to find a more private spot behind the loads of supplies. Pierre kept calling after him, and ultimately it got to him. Charles stopped in his tracks and spun on his heels. “Fine! Maybe I do think of them like that, is that what you want to hear?” The volume of his voice scared him slightly – partially because he didn’t think himself an angry person and partially because he knew that someone was probably listening in, waiting to get a soundbite to leak to the media.
Charles composed himself once more and stood before Pierre. “I’ve been taking care of both of them for months. I opened my doors when Ollie needed it. I was the one to give advice to Oscar about Lando.” His voice cracked; his shoulders slumped. “And I need them just as much.”
Pierre slowly wrapped his around Charles’ shoulders, pulling him close. “Take it easy, Cha. You’re alright.”
Charles rested his forehead against Pierre’s shoulder. “They’re both so good; they really bring out the best in me.”
Pierre rubbed circles into his back. “I’ve seen it, and I think everyone else has too.”
Other kind words were said, but Charles couldn’t get his voice to work. He took in slow breaths to calm himself and allowed Pierre to hold him as he brought himself back together.
*****
Charles made sure that in the break between Japan and Saudi Arabia his boys and he spent the weekend together. He did whatever was necessary to make that possible. Oscar even stayed over, much to Lando’s dismay if the melodramatic texts he sent to Charles and Max were anything to go by. Honestly though, Charles didn’t mind – plus he knew Lando didn’t really mean it.
He organized dinner, though Max was the one to do a majority of the cooking. He asked if everyone would take the night away from their phones too, which nobody seemed opposed to.
They gathered together on the couch as they started a movie that Oscar had picked out; Ollie had said it was only fair since he got to call the shots most of the time since he actually lived with Charles and Max. Charles never felt more content as Ollie leaned against his side between he and Max, and Oscar’s legs were across his lap. The four of them were tangled together, but it was in the best kind of way.
Charles massaged Oscar’s knee as Ollie mumbled commentary on the movie. Max’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, teasing the hair at the nape of Charles’ neck. This is what he’d been missing, this sort of joy and comfort.
A pleased smile painted itself across Charles’ face. “Mes garçons.”
Max’s fingers paused. “Onze jongens?”
It took Charles a moment to translate the words in his mind, but once he did his smile widened. “Of course, mon cher. Our boys.”