Work Text:
Max Verstappen has proven to be immensely talented at the Nordschleife. He won NLS2 by a minute (before a disqualification), made a 50 position charge in NLS5, and now he's here at the 24h qualifying first overall after setting a clean time of 8:18- a stark contrast to the leapfrogging 8:31s and 8:30s being set earlier. He qualified P3, and he hasn't even had to worry about Christopher Haase in the #16 car, much to a different #16's delight. The Nordschleife is, quite possibly, where he was born to race.
It really never gets old driving under canopies of trees damp from earlier rain- the track is called Green Hell for a reason, but it's not as hellacious as some would make it out to be- at least, not in the green aspect. Max's favourite moment of any lap is when he comes around a thicketed corner to see it open up to the sights of the German countryside. He almost feels himself driving off into the sunset, into the mountains coming down straights before the turn creeps up on him once more. That small voice inside of him says not yet, Maxie! Sometimes he grins under his helmet at the thought of driving off into the mountains one day in the GT3, never telling a soul (except perhaps Charles). One day he really will- nobody will hear from him, nobody will know where he even went- he'll escape into those mountains one day and live off the sound of the Nürburgring.
He knows he can't claim the Nürburgring like the people who have been racing on it for years, but still his heart feels close to the circuit even though he started this year. The Nürburgring has become a second home in a very special way this year, really. It's an entirely different community from F1 fans, for sure, but it's also different because the racing is different. Leaders lead in different ways, drivers strategise differently, fans cheer differently. That change has endeared this track to Max's heart. It's something about the rain, to be expected, and the loud cars, and the packed track that takes him back to being a child in Belgium in his go karts, just having the time of his life feeling the wind in his face and driving past vast expanses of grass, trees, and mountains, almost daring the rainy track to see what it can do to him.
The Nordschleife is where he should be.
"Max, you look quite happy."
Max blinks, looking away from the landscape in front of him and stands up. It's Charles, standing alone with him in the garage that's been cleared out after Q2, holding a sandwich and blanket.
"I am," Max smiles. "I like it here."
Charles grins and shakes Max's shoulder, stepping by his side and draping the blanket over Max's shoulders. He takes another bite of his sandwich, which really isn't that good, but he doesn't care, and looks out at the mountains Max was just admiring. "You've really got the pace this weekend, yeah? How do you feel?"
Max takes a deep breath. "Invigorated," he decides. "Whatever happens, it's a win for me. I'm proud of the work I've done here, and I'm glad you're here with me to see it. I don't regret anything in this moment because everything I've ever done has concluded by me being here, y'know?"
"I do know," Charles agrees. "I'm very glad you're here. You're going to absolutely own the rest of the pack this weekend, yeah?" he grins. He pokes Max's arm playfully, curling in closer to the Dutchman as he does.
Charles, as Max has been learning these past few months, is quite touchy. Not in a bad way, because Max really does enjoy it, but just in the sense that Charles always seems to be close to Max when Max needs it most. Charles delights in running a hand through Max's golden hair, or holding his hand under tables, or waking him up with a gentle forehead kiss. It's his little reminder to Max of how much he loves him, and how he'll stick around for Max whenever he needs or wants it.
"I hope so," Max replies. "It's a wonderful place, and I want to do it justice."
He glances at the car, smirking a bit. "It's not my choice who wins, anyways. I do a quarter of the race; all I can do is try my best when I'm at the wheel."
"You like the car, though?" Charles asks.
"Oh, very much so," Max nods. "It feels so good to drive, and nothing like F1. It's an entirely different style, I love discovering new ways to use it and shave time, y'know?" he smiles.
Charles grins, because it's so wonderful to see Max happy like this. "Tell me more about it," he asks coolly. "I want to know everything. Or, everything you can legally tell me."
is quiet for a moment as he regards the car, and then Charles. He looks back to the car again, his face looking like he has some kind of plan. Then he nods, and takes the blanket off his shoulders to step back into the garage and look for something at the counter.
"Charlie, have you ever driven a GT car?"
Charles blinks. "I have not."
Max looks back to him, a twinkle in his eye proving Charles' suspicion correct that his partner is plotting something.
"Put on a helmet," Max grins, handing Charles Dani's helmet. "Dani doesn't care," he adds, to settle any doubt that Charles previously had.
He holds open the door for Charles, allowing him to slide into the passenger seat and past the netting. Max doesn't strap the netting up, but then again, he doesn't anticipate needing it, exactly. Charles is looking expectantly, if not a bit worried, to Max as he prepares the car.
"We're taking it for a test run before the race," Max says innocently. "We pretty much have to, in order to see if the track is safe. It's safe, right Charlie?" he asks, his eyes glimmering once more at the final word.
Max gets into the driver's seat, and looking to Charles, who is still holding the sandwich, he gives him a thumbs up before pulling slowly out of the garage.
Max barely gets them out of the pit lane before Charles is clinging to the net for dear life, forget the sandwich. A small, mildly sadistic and equally gay part of him is obsessed with the fear on Charles' face- not because he likes when Charles is scared, but because there's something really gorgeous and really funny about how terrified the man can be going 80 kph in someone else's car.
"You like it?" Max shouts over the engine, beaming brightly. Charles is nodding meekly, holding a mental funeral for his sandwich. He assumes it would be bad form to throw up in a car that four people have to drive for 24 full hours, but at this point there's really not much he can do to stop it if it does happen.
Max grins and speeds up a bit, barrelling down the straight and taking in the last sights of Charles' mortal fear before slowing down to a reasonable speed. Charles seems to visibly relax at this, and fortunately for Max, this is just as cute as when he looks terrified. Best friends for decades, and Charles doesn't even trust him to take them on a nice drive together...
Charles' whimpers for mercy as Max comes to a smooth stop are, quite frankly, pathetic. From the looks of him, you'd think he'd never gotten in a car before. Max can't say he's not proud of what he just did to Charles, and he has every intention of comforting his partner afterwards. Everything about this experience was a win, in his opinion.
"Charlie, how was it?" Max asks gleefully, patting the shaking man on the back and ruffling the hair he's grown to be so obsessed with. Goodness, it's just everything about Charles, really- he's simply radiant in the evening sunlight, even when he looks ready to curl up into a ball and roll back and forth. Perhaps it's the experience in his Monégasque childhood sitting on the harbour looking pretty, but Charles really does manage to look stunning everywhere he goes and it's not fair to Max, who has to keep his composure when Charles is just right there waiting to be told how fabulous he is.
"Max," Charles whispers, stumbling out of the car to cling to his partner, "I think I like driving myself." He looks up pitifully to Max, who unfortunately can't help but laugh at his Ozymandias- one king of kings, now nothing remains after a simple ride in the GT3.
Max ruffles his hair and prays he won't sleep on the couch tonight. He takes Charles' arm and sits them down on the grass, a few metres out from the GT3 parked carefully on the runoff area as to not upset the suspension. The car was already old tyres anyhow, they would get changed before the race so it was really no loss to run the car for a bit.
"You're very good at that, Max," Charles murmurs, chuckling as he catches his breath. "Can see why you dusted the rest of them."
"Thank you, love," Max giggles. He leans over, pushing against Charles until they both topple over in the grass. Charles falls down with more laughter and pulls Max closer by his shoulders, face to face with the man next to him lying in the grass.
Still gorgeous. Has he mentioned?
Something in Max's eyes soften even further as he watches the clouds blow through the pink sky, backlighting Charles in an even more beautiful way than he usually sees. He gives in to his instinct to press a gentle kiss on Charles' forehead.
Charles smiles at this and rolls in closer, and Max kisses the edge of his jaw. He feels Charles' face heating up, something he's honestly quite proud of.
It was always everything to him when Charles would smile. Whenever Charles smiled when they were little kids, it was about something like snacks or a karting win. When they were teenagers, it was because of something Max would say to him before they got in the cars, or when they were about to go to sleep (usually at Charles' house on weeknights, because weekends were busy and Jos didn't like Charles). Once they were adults, the image of a joyful Charles became a rarity, because there was nothing to be happy about at Sauber or Ferrari. Max has noticed the smiles a lot more recently, though, and he'd like to think he helped a bit.
Finally, he gives Charles a warm kiss over the lips, and that's really the last straw for them both. He cups a hand over Charles' cheek so very reverently, like he knows there's nothing he could do to deserve the love of the man next to him.
Charles wraps him in a warm embrace in response and giggles quietly, dropping his forehead against Max's and kissing him back on his nose.
"I love you."
Max grins and revels in the feeling of Charles' arms around him, lying in the grass at the Nürburgring, because nothing could be better right now. "I love you more."
Charles squeezes him tighter. "No, you don't."
"Agree to disagree?"
"Ehh, agree to keep saying it until we're old and shrivelled," Charles replies.
__
It's almost an hour after the sun has set that they find themselves still lying in the grass, Max clinging to Charles like a wet koala because nobody tells you this on the Youtube streams, but it gets so very cold at the Nürburgring. Luckily, Charles is an inherently warm being and this makes Max quite happy. Charles is chattering on about some racing division in France, and Max just likes watching his face when he speaks. And hearing his voice. And knowing what he thinks.
Okay, Max likes Charles, but is that news?
"Oh, Maxie, it's late," Charles blinks after a moment's silence. "Didn't realise the stars were out."
"So they are," Max comments, but he sounds like he's on a different planet. "You wanna get back to the hotel?"
Charles pauses, and then nods with a devious look on his face. "I want to drive."
Max looks at him hesitantly. "Do you... know how?"
"It's a car, right?"
Cut to Max sitting in the passenger seat of the GT3, Charles Leclerc having the time of his life blowing past corners at previously undiscovered speeds while Max prays to every deity he can think of and then some. Charles decides this is what he would call karma.
Charles has a harder time backing into the garage and coming off his adrenaline fueled high as he steps out of the car and unstraps his helmet giddily. He's almost bouncing when he shakes Max by the shoulders and starts laughing somewhat maniacally.
"Maxie, I need to start doing this with you! I want to race here! And there's already a #16! Max!"
Max is almost entirely still. "Road demon..." he mutters, shaking his head. "Charlie..."
Charles giggles and pats Max on the back. "Ahh, but Maxie, this is how I felt on the way there," he says. "I can see why you like the GT cars."
"Charles," Max replies, "I love you very much. You are my favourite #16 in the world, and probably the cutest one too. I would give the world for you. But please, I beg of you, do not drive me anywhere ever again in my life," he ends in a whisper, clinging to Charles' sweatshirt. "Ugh, and you smell good?" Max mutters, burying his face against Charles' chest. Well worth it, he decides.
Charles grins, nodding as he takes Max's hand and brushes his thumb over Max's knuckles. "I think we'll take a bus, then."
__
The Nürburgring is great. Max loves it very much; he feels it singing to him when he hits a turn just right or catches the wind on a straight. After some thought, though, he's realised it might not just be the Nürburgring.
It's something about the memories, the people that attend. He knows the memories always stick with him, like it or not. He'll come around the straight and see where he parked the car, watched the sunset with Charles, and quietly decided this is the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
He'll park in the garage, seeing where Charles stood in joyful expectation when he handed him Dani Juncadella's helmet.
He'll pass the grandstands, knowing that was where Charles was when he first decided to start on his mission of eliminating Christopher Haase from existence in order to get himself on Max's radar. Surprise to him, Haase is still alive (for now) and Max likes Charles a lot more.
Yeah, the Nürburgring is another home to Max. But if Charles had never been there, it'd just be another interesting track. Max would race in NLS for a few weeks, place well at the 24h, and say it was fun but he prefers F1 for now.
No, home is where he can feel memories, living and breathing around him, following him with that protective, watchful gaze to guide him to the finish line and say you did it, Max. You are safe. You are good enough. You mean something. Home at the Nürburgring is maybe where those memories feel like a warm hug.
Is it, though?
Home is Charles.
Max feels at home in Monaco. On the Nordschleife. In the Ferrari garage, in his small Monégasque apartment, at the gas station at 23:00 when Charles is in the car opening the snacks for their road trip to wherever.
Many people spend their whole lives looking for home, only to drift from place to place looking for somewhere to stay the night. Max, though?
He got lucky.