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Charles Leclerc has made himself a nest in Max’s driver’s room.
And Max Verstappen is absolutely not losing his mind about it.
Not at all.
Nope.
In fact.
This is perfectly normal.
This is expected.
What the fuck is Charles doing in Max’s driver’s room?
Why has he made a nest?
When did he do this?
Is somebody looking for him?
Is he okay?
He crashed earlier, didn’t he?
Why is the nest in Max’s driver’s room?
Why is Charles Leclerc napping in a nest he made himself in Max’s driver’s room?
Max stares unblinking at Charles. He’s curled up underneath a blanket his Mom had gotten him for his track den when he’d made it to F1. He’s cuddling that lion plushie of his. The one that Pierre had brought to the Red Bull packroom that smelt so much like Charles.
Max thinks it’s wearing one of his shirts.
Why has Charles dressed his plushie in one of Max’s shirts?
Max cannot be thinking about this right now.
Max has a job. He came here to change before media duties.
He really doesn’t want to do interviews.
But he has to.
He needs to change out of his suit first.
He turns to his closet—and all of his clothes are gone.
Because Charles has used them all of his nest.
In Max’s driver’s room.
Totally normal. Very normal. So normal.
Max needs his clothes.
And Charles is asleep. In his clothes.
Max is just going to have to shake him awake.
Because Max knows better than to take something from an omega’s nest without permission.
“Hallo schatje,” he whispers, when Charles’ eyes flutter open.
Charles smiles at him, and Max’s heart beats right out of his chest.
He looks so pretty surrounded by navy blue.
He smells so lovely, resting in Max’s space.
It smells like both of them.
Charles must have been here for the entire race.
Max can’t help but grin at the thought of his omega finding comfort in his scent.
Clearly, if he’s made a nest out of Max’s den.
But then Charles’ eyes widen in panic.
That won’t do.
“I just need a shirt,” Max soothes, shushing him quietly. “I have to change out of my suit before interviews.”
Charles blinks. “Oh.”
“But it seems like you’re using all the clothes I had in this room.” Max smiles softly. “Can I take one? I’m sorry for waking you up, but I didn’t want to fuck up your pretty nest.”
Charles' scent sweetens, and Max wants his den to smell like this all of the time.
Hopefully these clothes will still smell like Charles when he leaves.
“Oh yes! Just let me…” Charles trails off as he starts digging around his nest.
His nest in Max’s driver’s room.
It only takes a moment for Charles to produce a polo and a pair of jeans for him.
“Thank you.”
Charles preens. His scent sweetens even more, if that’s possible, and it almost does Max’s head in.
Then his shoulders drop. He folds in on himself a little, and Max wants to fix it. Charles; scent should never sour. He deserves to be happy always.
He should have just done the interview in his racesuit—he’s done it before—and he should have just let Charles continue to sleep when he’d seen him in his driver’s room.
He’d made a nest!
In Max’s driver’s room!
“I should go.”
Ah.
Well that’s an easy fix.
Charles thinks Max might want to kick him out.
Max would never.
“Stay,” he offers. “Unless you have somewhere to be, of course; but don’t think you have to go because I’m here. I’m about to leave again, media you know?”
Charles nods, but he doesn’t laugh. Charles always laughs at Max’s jokes, even when they’re bad.
“Are you okay?” Max asks, fighting the urge to reach out and check for himself. “I saw the crash on the screens.”
Charles nods. “I am okay. It wasn’t a bad crash. Just a hard hit. And the car will have to be fixed, but that is fine.”
Max’s eyes rake over everything he can see. Which isn’t much, because Charles is still wrapped up in his blanket.
But if Charles is fine, then why did he need to make a nest?
And why is it in Max’s driver’s room?
There’s a knock at the door. “You’re needed in two!”
“Coming!” Max yells back.
He can’t think about it now.
If Charles says he’s alright, then he’s alright.
Max trusts him.
“I have to change now,” he tells Charles.
Charles blinks at him, and all Max wants to do is climb in, and cuddle him until track management kicks them out for trespassing.
Unfortunately, Max has something to do.
Charles dives into the nest face first when Max starts unzipping his suit, like he’d just realised that Max needed to change meant that he had to take off his clothes.
And Max and Charles are definitely not at the stage in their friendship where they can just strip in front of each other.
They’re barely at the ‘make a nest in my driver’s room unprompted’ stage.
At least they were. They’re definitely beyond it now.
He’s quick about changing. The sooner he’s done, the sooner Charles can get back to napping.
“Do you want these?” Max asks, holding out his racesuit towards Charles once he’s in his clean clothes.
Charles peaks up from the nest, eyeing his suit like a wolf eyes its prey. “Maybe.”
Max smiles softly. He places it down at the edge of Charles’ nest. “I’ll leave these here.”
The knocking starts up again.
“I’m coming!” he shouts. “Stay here as long as you’d like. I’ll come back later, okay?”
Max really hopes that Charles is still here when he gets back.
Charles looks so good surrounded by his clothes.
“Okay.”
Max nods, satisfied. He reaches for the door.
“This smells like champagne.”
Max throws a bright smile over his shoulder.