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Another week, another race and another conflict between a Red Bull and a Ferrari driver. The bickering between Max and Charles has started to become a regular occurrence, much to the displeasure of the rest of the grid. It didn't matter where they were, who was around, they were at it all day and night. The others tried to separate them but nothing ever worked.
Asked Max about how he took a corner? He said he would get back to them and then stomped over to Charles to argue about the same damn corner with him instead.
Told Charles they would like to hang out a little right after a race? He would politely decline before marching over to Max's driver's room to yell at him.
It was exhausting for everyone involved…except Max and Charles, apparently. They could go at it for hours before one of them was reluctantly dragged away by a team member to whatever they happened to be late to.
They had just started the European portion of the F1 races and not even being on home turf could change their bad habits around. Free practice two just ended and instead of doing anything productive, they were in a shared hospitality unit trying to kill each other with words. They didn't have much time to discuss free practice one, so they were also catching up on that. The rest of the grid was so done with it. Pierre and Yuki were in the corner watching them and whispering about something, the papaya boys looked unamused at best, with Lando looking like he would hit them at any second, Lewis and George were trying (and failing) to bring Charles back to Ferrari, why a Mercedes driver was involved in this, no one was really sure.
The rookies ran away together as soon as they possibly could, knowing they didn't want to watch mom and dad go through their weird song and dance again, with the rest of the grid also returning to their own places, knowing only the actually insane people still try to deal with Lestappen and their antics.
“It’s free practice! Why do you treat it as a race?”
“It is not my fault you are so slow!”
“I'm slow? You pushed me wide! I almost ended up in the barriers because of you!”
“Yeah well-”
“Oh my god, JUST KISS ALREADY!!!”
Everyone snapped their head to the source of the sound in an instant, even Max and Charles, getting them out of their very weird trance.
“What? I just said what we were all thinking, bloody hell, you two,” said Lando as he promptly stood up and fucked off to McLaren, leaving Oscar to do damage control.
The younger man was shocked at what his teammate did, his usual calm demeanor and quick wit nowhere to be found. Pierre and Yuki were trying their best not to burst out laughing in the corner, the remaining Ferrari driver and the only Mercedes driver had their mouths wide open at the audacity of the younger Brit.
“OSCAR, CONTROL YOUR TEAMMATE!!!” Max and Charles yelled in unison, surprising both of them.
“Uh yeah, right! On it! I will go um..I will go talk to him, yeah,” Oscar said, as he dashed away from the messy situation Lando created. He didn't even know if he should scold him because this was a long time coming but also man he could have done that in such a better way.
Pierre and Yuki were still snickering in the corner, it took a while for one of them to find their words. That first person just so happened to be Pierre. “He was right, you know, just get it over with.”
He dragged Yuki away at breakneck speeds after he said that, not wanting him or his boyfriend to feel their wrath.
This left a somehow even more confused Max and Charles with an equally flabbergasted Lewis and George.
“I don't want to overstep but…they may be onto something,” and with that those two were also rushing away, Lewis dragging them both to Mercedes, even if he didn't drive for them anymore. He knew he could explain this situation away to Toto and he would understand.
This left just Max and Charles, standing in front of each other in the middle of the room, with very confused expressions.
“They…we…what?” Charles was the first one to speak up out of the two, barely being able to string words together though.
“They are just…trying to get under our skin,” Max tried to reason, but it didn't explain how everyone simultaneously agreed with Lando. It didn't look planned, everyone's sock was real…so what was the actual meaning behind this.
“Yes that…that must be it.”
There was silence between the two, a charged silence. Silence with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Blue eyes were locked with green, both seeming to be thinking the same thing.
“We could prove nothing would change if we kissed.”
It was Charles' turn to have his jaw drop to the floor. Max was known to be blunt, yes, but this was a little too much even for him. Nonetheless, he composed himself rather quickly as he thought about the proposition.
“That would help us win the argument Lando started, yes.”
“So are you in?”.
“Kiss me, Max.”
It started off with a quick peck. Then another. Then another. The kisses started getting longer, deeper, a clash of lips, teeth, tongue and everything in between. Max won the fight, exploring the crevices of Charles' mouth, the Monegasque doing his best to hold back any sounds that might push whatever they were doing past a certain line. Little did they know, that line was crossed the instant Max made his suggestion.
They broke apart for air, panting, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths, pupils blown wide. It was a filthy sight. One both of them wanted etched into their minds.
They didn't kiss again, they stayed there, close, still holding onto each other for dear life.
“Fuck.”
“Fuck.”
They would never admit Lando was right to make them do that, but their arguments slowly fizzled out and in their stead came those two disappearing with each other. Lando wouldn't shut up about the fact he was the reason those two partially got their shit together.