Work Text:
The username was the first challenge.
Max sat on his couch with Jimmy curled against his thigh and Sassy draped across the back cushions, staring at his phone. He had spent fourteen minutes trying to come up with something that did not sound like him. No racing references. No numbers. No lion emojis. Nothing Dutch.
He typed "justaguy198" and called it done.
The forum loaded slowly because he had twelve ad blockers installed and the site really wanted him to disable at least three. He ignored the popup and clicked into the advice section.
The post took him twenty minutes to write. He deleted it four times.
"there's this guy at work. i think he hates me. i want to ask him out but i genuinely cannot form sentences around him. what do i do."
He posted it before he could delete it again.
The responses came faster than he expected.
"lmao what do you mean he hates you"
"coworkers are messy dont do it"
"what makes u think he hates u specifically"
Max typed back: "he avoids me. he leaves rooms when i enter. he won't look at me."
Someone replied: "maybe he's just intimidated by you. are you his boss or something"
Max considered this. They were equals. They had been equals for thirteen years. That was part of the problem.
"we're at the same level. we've worked together a long time."
"ok so what do you actually like about this guy"
Max stared at the question. He could write a list. He would not write the list because it would be embarrassing and also incriminating if anyone he knew ever found this account. Charles had a laugh that sounded like he was surprised by his own happiness. Charles argued with engineers in Italian so fast that no one could keep up. Charles had green eyes and brown curls and a mouth that curved into a smirk whenever he won, which was often, and Max wanted to bite that smirk off his face. Charles had a golden retriever that he carried around like a baby. Charles smelled like sea salt and something floral that Max could never identify, something that made his brain go quiet and loud at the same time.
He typed: "he's smart and he's funny and he's really good at his job."
"sounds like you've got it bad dude"
"have you tried just talking to him"
Max typed: "i can't. he's too good-looking. i literally cannot make eye contact."
Someone replied with a string of laughing emojis. Someone else said "just ask him to lunch you coward."
Max locked his phone and stared at the ceiling. Jimmy purred against his leg. Sassy flicked her tail in her sleep.
"Lunch," Max said out loud.
Jimmy did not respond.
Three hundred kilometers away in the same city, Charles Leclerc was lying on his stomach on his bed with Leo sprawled across his lower back like a furry heating pad. He had created his own burner account forty minutes ago and had been refreshing the page obsessively.
His username was "greenflag392" because he had panicked.
His post read: "there is a man at my job who keeps staring at me. like ALL the time. i think he likes me but he never says anything. he just stares and then leaves the room. what does this mean."
The responses were divided into three categories: people telling him this was creepy, people telling him this was romantic, and people asking if the guy was hot.
Charles answered the third one first.
"yes he is hot. very tall. blond. blue eyes."
The replies immediately shifted toward the second category.
"oh he's down bad for you"
"blond and blue eyes say less king"
"he's probably shy. some guys are just like that."
Charles frowned at his phone. Max Verstappen was not shy. Max Verstappen had been his rival since they were twelve years old and had never been shy about anything. Max argued with race directors. Max made aggressive overtakes in wet conditions. Max said exactly what he thought in every interview. Max was not shy.
But Max also could not seem to be in the same room as Charles for more than ninety seconds without making an excuse to leave.
"he's not shy normally. it's just with me."
"oh honey"
"he DEFINITELY likes you"
"just ask him out. what's the worst that could happen"
Charles typed: "we've known each other for thirteen years and he's never said anything so maybe i'm wrong and he actually just hates me."
The replies came in a flood.
"thirteen years"
"THIRTEEN YEARS"
"bro you two are hopeless"
"someone needs to lock you both in a room"
"he doesn't hate you. nobody stares at someone they hate like that."
Charles chewed on his thumbnail. Leo snuffled in his sleep and kicked one small paw against Charles's spine.
"what if i'm wrong though"
"what if you're not"
Charles closed the app.
The advice forum had an unexpected feature: it showed related posts at the bottom of each thread.
Max's post appeared in the related section of Charles's thread. The titles were anonymized, but the preview text was visible.
Charles clicked on it because the preview said "coworker" and "he's too good-looking" and his heart did something uncomfortable in his chest.
He read the entire thread.
"he's smart and he's funny and he's really good at his job."
"he avoids me. he leaves rooms when i enter. he won't look at me."
"i can't. he's too good-looking. i literally cannot make eye contact."
Charles stared at his phone for a long moment. Leo woke up and licked his elbow.
At 11:52 PM, Max clicked on the related post in his own thread because the preview said "blond and blue eyes" and "thirteen years."
He read the entire thing.
"he just stares and then leaves the room."
"he's not shy normally. it's just with me."
"we've known each other for thirteen years."
Max put his phone down. He picked it up again. He checked the usernames. "greenflag392" had joined the forum that same evening. The post had been made forty minutes after his own.
"Green flag," Max muttered. "He named himself green flag."
Sassy meowed at him from the back of the couch.
"He thinks I hate him."
Jimmy stretched and kneaded Max's thigh with careful claws.
"I have been in love with him for thirteen years and he thinks I hate him."
Both cats stared at him with the judgment of creatures who had never made a poor life decision.
Max opened his messages. He scrolled to Charles's contact. They texted occasionally, usually about logistics or shared sponsorship obligations. The last message was from Charles three weeks ago: "your cats are cute" with a photo Max had posted of Jimmy and Sassy. Max had replied "thanks" and then stared at the screen for an hour without typing anything else.
He started typing now.
He deleted it.
He typed again.
He deleted it.
He locked his phone and unlocked it.
"You are being insane," he told himself. "You are a grown man. You have won championships. You can send a text message."
Jimmy chirped.
Charles was still holding his phone when the notification appeared.
Max Verstappen: "are you awake"
Charles stared at the message. Leo shifted on his back.
He typed: "yes"
Then: "why"
Max's typing indicator appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Max Verstappen: "i read your post"
Charles's stomach dropped. He sat up so fast Leo tumbled onto the duvet with an offended squeak.
Charles Leclerc: "what post"
Max Verstappen: "the one about the coworker who stares at you"
Charles Leclerc: "i don't know what you're talking about"
Max Verstappen: "greenflag392"
Charles Leclerc: "how did you find that"
Max Verstappen: "it was in my related posts"
Charles Leclerc: "why would it be in your related posts"
Max Verstappen: "because i made one too"
Charles stopped breathing for a moment.
Charles Leclerc: "you're justaguy198"
Max Verstappen: "yes"
Charles Leclerc: "you think i'm too good-looking to make eye contact with"
The typing indicator appeared and disappeared three times.
Max Verstappen: "yes"
Charles Leclerc: "you told the internet i leave rooms when you enter"
Max Verstappen: "you DO leave rooms when i enter"
Charles Leclerc: "because you stare at me and don't say anything and it makes me nervous"
Max Verstappen: "why does it make you nervous"
Charles Leclerc: "because i've been in love with you since i was nineteen and i thought you hated me"
The message sat there. Charles watched it, horror creeping up his spine. He had typed it. He had sent it. There was no unsending it. Leo was looking at him with what felt like disappointment.
Max Verstappen: "i have been in love with you since i was seventeen"
Charles Leclerc: "what"
Max Verstappen: "you beat me at the world championship in karting and i thought i was going to be furious and instead i just wanted to talk to you for the rest of my life"
Charles Leclerc: "max"
Max Verstappen: "i'm not good at this. i know i'm not good at this. i have been trying to figure out how to tell you for thirteen years and every time i get near you my brain stops working"
Charles Leclerc: "that's the most ridiculous thing i've ever heard"
Max Verstappen: "i know"
Charles Leclerc: "you argue with race directors for a living"
Max Verstappen: "they're not you"
Charles pressed his phone against his forehead. Leo climbed into his lap and put his nose against Charles's wrist.
Charles Leclerc: "are we really doing this over text at midnight"
Max Verstappen: "i can come over"
Charles Leclerc: "it's midnight"
Max Verstappen: "you're in monaco"
Charles Leclerc: "so are you"
Max Verstappen: "so it's not far"
Charles Leclerc: "you don't even know where i live"
Max Verstappen: "you live in fontvieille. i know exactly where you live."
Charles Leclerc: "how do you know where i live"
Max Verstappen: "i looked it up three years ago and memorized the address in case i ever got brave enough to send you something"
Charles Leclerc: "did you send me something"
Max Verstappen: "no i chickened out"
Charles Leclerc: "what was it"
Max Verstappen: "a christmas gift"
Charles Leclerc: "what was the gift"
Max Verstappen: "a sweater. it had a lion on it. it was stupid."
Charles Leclerc: "a lion"
Max Verstappen: "your symbol is a lion"
Charles Leclerc: "i know my symbol is a lion max"
Max Verstappen: "i still have it. it's in my closet."
Charles Leclerc: "you bought me a sweater with a lion on it three years ago and you kept it in your closet"
Max Verstappen: "yes"
Charles Leclerc: "come over right now"
Max Verstappen: "ok"
Charles Leclerc: "bring the sweater"
Max arrived seventeen minutes later. Charles knew it was seventeen minutes because he spent the entire time pacing his living room while Leo watched from the couch with the patient expression of a dog who had seen many things and was no longer surprised by human stupidity.
The knock on the door came at 12:28 AM.
Charles opened it.
Max stood in the hallway holding a wrapped package in slightly crumpled red paper. He was wearing a hoodie and jeans. His hair was messy. He looked at Charles's face, then at Charles's left ear, then at the doorframe.
"Hi," Max said.
"You brought the sweater."
"You told me to bring the sweater."
"I didn't think you would actually bring the sweater."
Max held it out like a shield. Charles took it. Their fingers did not touch because Max pulled his hand back too fast.
"Come inside," Charles said.
Max stepped over the threshold. Leo immediately trotted over and began sniffing Max's ankles. Max crouched down and let Leo investigate his hand.
"This is Leo," Charles said.
"I know. You post pictures of him."
"You look at my pictures."
Max's ears went red. "Everyone looks at your pictures."
"Max. Look at me."
Max straightened up slowly. He looked at Charles's forehead.
"I said look at me."
Max looked at him. Blue eyes meeting green. Charles felt his pulse in his throat. Max's scent reached him then, that familiar mix of something sharp and something warm, like cedar and amber. He had smelled it across garages and briefing rooms and podium ceremonies for years. He had never been this close to the source.
"You're not leaving the room," Charles said.
"You told me to come here."
"You could still leave."
"I don't want to leave."
"Then why do you always leave?"
Max shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. "Because when I'm near you I want things I don't think I'm allowed to want."
"What things."
"Charles."
"I want to hear you say it."
Max's jaw tightened. The muscle in his cheek twitched. "I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to scent you. I want everyone to know you're mine even though you're not mine and you've never been mine and I don't have any right to want that."
Charles unwrapped the sweater. It was soft cashmere in deep blue, and on the chest was a small embroidered lion in gold thread.
"This is not stupid," Charles said.
"It took me three weeks to pick it out."
"Three years ago."
"Three years ago."
Charles pulled the sweater over his head. It fit perfectly. The cashmere settled against his skin like it belonged there. Max made a small sound in the back of his throat.
"How does it look," Charles asked.
Max stared at him. His scent shifted, amber deepening into something heavier. "You know how it looks."
"I want to hear you say that too."
"Beautiful. You look beautiful. You always look beautiful. That's why I can't look at you."
Charles stepped closer. Max did not step back.
"You can look at me," Charles said. "I've been waiting for you to look at me for thirteen years."
"You said you thought I hated you."
"I thought you were disgusted by me. I'm an omega. You're an alpha. Every time I got near you, you left. What was I supposed to think."
Max's expression crumpled. "Charles. No. I left because your scent makes me stupid. I left because if I stayed I was going to do something embarrassing like tell you I've been half in love with you since we were children."
"Half in love."
"Entirely in love. Completely in love. Whatever the maximum amount of love is."
"The maximum amount of love," Charles repeated.
"That was not an intentional pun."
"I know. That's what makes it better."
Max laughed. It was a surprised sound, almost startled, and Charles wanted to hear it again for the rest of his life.
"I still don't understand," Charles said. "Why didn't you say anything. All those years."
"Because you're you. You're Charles Leclerc. You're beautiful and talented and everyone loves you. I figured you had options. I figured I wasn't one of them."
"You figured wrong."
"I'm starting to understand that."
Leo barked once, short and sharp, apparently tired of being ignored. Max looked down at the dog and then back at Charles.
"Can I," Max started, and stopped.
"Can you what."
"Can I scent you. Just a little. Just once. Then I'll go home and we can pretend this never happened if you want."
"If I want."
"If you want."
Charles reached out and took Max's wrist. Max's pulse hammered under his fingers. He guided Max's hand to the side of his neck, to the gland there that was already warm and slightly swollen from proximity and anticipation.
"I don't want to pretend this never happened," Charles said. "I want you to scent me and then I want you to stay."
Max's fingers pressed gently against his skin. His scent intensified, cedar and amber and something underneath that was purely Max, something Charles had been catching traces of for over a decade without ever getting close enough to name.
"You smell like the sea," Max said quietly. "And flowers. I don't know what kind."
"Gardenias."
"You smell like gardenias and I have been losing my mind about it since 2011."
"That's very specific."
"I'm very specific about you."
Max moved his wrist against Charles's neck, a slow drag of skin against skin. Charles shivered. The scenting was gentle, careful, nothing like what his body wanted. His omega instincts were screaming for more contact, more pressure, more everything. He held still.
"There," Max said. His voice was rough. "Now you smell like me too."
"Good."
"Good?"
Charles grabbed the front of Max's hoodie and pulled him closer. "I've wanted to smell like you for years. I've wanted everyone to know. Every alpha who ever looked at me in the paddock, I wanted them to smell you on me and back off."
Max's hands found Charles's waist. "That's."
"Possessive. I know."
"That's the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me."
Charles kissed him.
Max made another sound against his mouth, surprised and hungry, and his hands tightened on Charles's waist. The kiss was not gentle. Thirteen years of wanting did not produce gentle kisses. Max kissed like he was making up for lost time, like he was trying to memorize the shape of Charles's mouth. Charles kissed back just as hard.
When they broke apart, Max's lips were red and his pupils were blown wide. His scent had shifted from amber to something smokier, something that made Charles's knees weak.
"You're wearing the sweater," Max said stupidly.
"I'm wearing the sweater. You just scented me and kissed me and that's what you're thinking about."
"It's a good sweater."
"It's a very good sweater. You have good taste."
"I have excellent taste. I've been in love with you for thirteen years."
Charles laughed and pressed his forehead against Max's shoulder. Max's arms wrapped around him properly, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head.
"I still don't know what we tell people," Charles mumbled into Max's hoodie.
"The truth."
"That we figured out we were in love via an anonymous advice forum at midnight on a Wednesday."
"The internet gave us terrible advice and we followed it anyway."
"Everyone told you to just ask me to lunch."
"I'm going to ask you to lunch. Tomorrow. I'm taking you to lunch."
"It's already tomorrow. It's almost one in the morning."
"Lunch later today then."
Charles pulled back enough to look at Max's face. Max was looking directly at him now, no avoidance, no excuses. His blue eyes were soft in the dim light of the entryway.
"You're looking at me," Charles said.
"I'm looking at you."
"You're not leaving."
"I'm not leaving."
Leo barked again, this time with more insistence, and trotted toward the kitchen where his food bowl sat empty.
"Your dog is hungry," Max said.
"Our dog."
"Our dog. I have two cats."
"I know. Jimmy and Sassy."
"You know their names."
"Max. I've known their names for years. I comment on your posts with a private account."
Max stared at him. "You have a private account to comment on my cats."
"I wanted to say something to you. It was the only thing I could think of."
"You are as insane as I am."
"I'm worse. I've been doing it since 2019."
Max kissed him again, shorter this time but no less intense. "We're both idiots."
"We're idiots who are in love."
"That's the only kind of idiots I want to be."
Charles took Max's hand and led him toward the kitchen. "Come help me feed our dog. Then you can tell me about the sweater you almost sent me."
"I still have the receipt somewhere."
"Of course you do."
"For tax purposes."
"You don't need a receipt for tax purposes on a sweater you never gave anyone."
"I was optimistic."
Charles opened a can of dog food while Leo danced around his feet. Max leaned against the counter and watched him with an expression that Charles could only describe as wonderstruck.
"You're still looking at me," Charles said without turning around.
"I'm making up for lost time."
"That's going to take a while."
"I have time," Max said. "I have all the time in the world."
"Also, tomorrow I'm helping you introduce Jimmy and Sassy and Leo. The kids should meet."
"Call them the kids again."
"Our kids."
Max's scent bloomed with something so warm and satisfied that Charles nearly dropped the dog bowl. "Say that again."
"Our kids. Our cats. Our dog. Our lunch later today."
"Our everything," Max said. "If you want."
Charles set Leo's bowl on the floor and straightened up. He walked back to Max and placed both hands on his chest. The sweater stretched across his shoulders. Max's scent was all over him now, marking him as thoroughly as any bite would.
"Your sweater," Charles said.
"My sweater on you."
"Your scent on me."
Max's hands settled on his hips. "My scent on you."
"Thirteen years," Charles said.
"We wasted a lot of time."
"We have time to make up for it."