Small Lestappen from after 2026 Silverstone
Max stared blankly at his phone in his hand, Charles had said he would be here soon about an hour ago. Fucking Ferrari shenanigans always seemed to come at the least opportune times. He scrolls to see a replay of his interview, same basic answer as the rest of the season.
'Yeah the car is very tempermental you know? Podium or the gravel it feels like every lap. Good for the team Isack finished though. Just didn't have it this weekend.'
Charles chooses that moment to click open the door. His kit is drenched in something, probably that expensive champagne Ferrari carts to every race. He was unshowered which wasn't surprising considering he hated doing it at the track. Most of the time he could wait until getting to the hotel, and when he couldn't he showered with Max.
Charles flops on top of Max, nuzzling into the soft skin of his neck. He might've invited Max to the Ferrari celebrations if he had finished, but yeah they both knew how that went.
'I saw your interview cheri. You didn't curse in it at all. No fine this year.'
'Yeah. I watched the press conference before I left the track. I'm proud of you. Kimi is a hound sometimes.'
The conversation trails off, both just breathing each other in. Charles can feel the residual frustration laced through Max's muscles and mumbles out 'shower with me? Winner's present?'
The move up and into the bathroom is slow. Charles almost forgets to take his clothes off with how attached they are to his body. The wet plop on the tile is followed by Max's soft clothes next to them. He had changed into then at the track, too tired and pissed to care much about anything besides getting somewhere not in public.
Max starts the water before he pulls Charles in beside him. He starts mouthing gently at his lips then around his face and down…down…down. A nipple makes its way into his mouth and he pulls it gently back into his teeth and admires the drop of Charles' jaw. He lets himself stay there for a second. The tension from the race is still there and god does he want to take it out on something, but only if Charles wants to. He would do whatever Charles wanted as long as he got to see this at the end of the day.
Max reaches behind him to grab Charles' expensive and pretentious shampoo, lathering it on his hands the way he's seen him do. His fingers massage it into the roots and wait for his mouth to drop open again before leaning forward and kissing him again.
This is their perfect limbo, no race, no rush, nothing to get in the way of how moldable they both are to each other. The next time Charles' head goes back it's into the warm stream of water from the shower head.
Thirty minutes later Charles has been unstickified and Max has towel dried the both of them. They sit in the bed, some replay of an 80's race on while they just exist together. Charles moves closer to Max every lap and if Max knows that look it means he is going to need another shower tonight.
'Yes Charlie? What do you want?'
'Want you… Want whatever you're most angry about today out of you… tensed and angry isnt a good look on you.'
'You're sure about that Charlie?'
'Am I ever not sure Max?'
That's the last thing Max says before he leans in, going straight for the crook of his neck. Usually he would've held back, waiting for Charles to direct him but his words earlier made him think that Charles didn't want to be in control tonight.
He makes his way back down to his chest again, still pleasantly damp from their earlier shower and latches on to it. Only people who saw Charles shirtless knew about them anyway so if he left a mark he didn't fucking care. That gets an absolutely delectable noise out of Charles above him and he lets his hands wander down towards the towel around his waist.
'There we go Maxie. Just like that. Doing so good tonight.'
Now that makes Max whine gently where he's still on Charles' chest. If there was one thing his childhood gave him besides karting skills it was a need to please, to be good.
A roll and a chuckle later Max is moving down the midline of Charles, following that perfect line down the dip of his abs. He makes a bit of an unorthodox decision and bites onto one, kneading the skin with his teeth. The hitch in breath he gets from above him is enough for him to be encouraged further.
His fingers fumble slightly with the fabric around Charles' hips and fuck that is a sight Max will never grow tired of. He barely lets the tip hit Charlie's stomach before he's licking at it himself.
Charles has a hand in his hair now, stroking a strand in the same innate rhythm that Max has with his tongue. He had forgot how hungry Max could get. Usually some of the need to please would be fulfilled by finishing the race, and he would let Charles take what he needed. Tonight he seems to need to be active about it, to anticipate what the man above him would think is best.
Soft words leave Charlie's mouth as Max goes deeper. A gag has Charlie's hips stutter up and he drags one of Max's hands to his own thigh before putting both hands in his hair. Neither had had to tap out of a blowjob before but things happen all the time.
'Mmm Maxie off. Gonna- No Max off.'
Max doesn't stop moving his head when Charles pulls his hands back. Max knew Charlie loved his mouth but usually the taste put him off. Right now he doesn't care. The liquid hits the back of his throat as Charles fails to pull him off before he's cumming down the avenue of his throat.
Max sits there until his mouth is full, holding it in his cheeks. His eyes are shut as he feels Charles pull him off with more force.
'You gonna swallow for me Maxie? Can't finish your own race so you gotta make me? Go on then mon cheri. Swallow and show me.'
Max gags on the taste and opens his eyes to stare at Charles. This is why he wasn't the one making decisions. Charles' eyes are still staring at him expectedly and he has to duck his head down before he spits. His face ends up down between Charles' sweaty thighs and he feels the blush of failure run up his neck and to the tips of his ears.
'Bit off more than you could chew Maxie?' Are the words that slip past the roar of embarrassment in his ears and he nods.
'It's okay baby. Come on, head up please. Just wanna see your pretty face, not mad.'
Max's head emerges from between his legs a few slow seconds later. He feels like he can still taste it but opens his mouth, the first thing he can think to do. Charles has a hand on his cheek shortly after, gentle on his skin as he pulls him up. He hands Max his water from the track.
'Go rinse and spit mon cheri. I appreciate the effort.'
Max is up off the bed in an instant and into the bathroom, sputtering the taste out into the sink before taking a mouthful of the lukewarm water and doing the same. He intentionally avoids looking into the mirror above him as he does and a minute later is emerging from the tiled room. His head is down as he walks back to the bed.
'There we are. Open. Let me see.'
Max opens slowly, sticks his tongue out while he waits for Charles to tell him to climb in the bed, his purpose fulfilled for the night. He barely even registers when Charles asks him a question and just looks at him. Charles snaps once and repeats himself.
'I said are you still good for the rest of tonight Max? If not we can go to bed but today has already disappointed you enough.'
Max nods quickly. He meets Charles' eyes now and waits for the go-ahead about something? Anything really. He lies next to Charles at a tap on the sheets and waits.
'You remember how I won today Maxie? You're going to guess what I want as my little treat. Oui?'
Max runs through the list of previous treats Charlie had asked for, many required much more preparation than had been done so those were out. He could remember his treats from last year though, all the fun things he'd gotten Charles to try because of it. He finally shakes his head, unable to come up with anything.
'Italy '24. What did I ask for then Max?' Charles is trying to lead him somewhere and he can feel it.
'You wanted, uh you wanted me to fuck you. But that was when I was doing good as well I don't-'
He is shushed by a finger to his lips. Charles was not much a fan of the perfectionist complex he had.
'And it is what I want. So unless you're ready to lie down for bed then this is what's going to happen.'
'Okay. I- promise you're not mad at me? Please.'
Max doesn't know where that sentence came from but the look of Charles' face falling has him feeling guilty for wherever it was. Maybe the end of his liver. Yeah that sounds right.
He is pulled down to Charles' chest and he can feel soft kisses pressed into the crown of his head. Gentle words follow every one. Fuck this was not how this was supposed to go, the fucking race still has him boiling and now he's ruining Charles' night as well.
'I'm sorry.' Makes its way out of his mouth too many times as he lets Charles shower him with more kisses.
'No. No sorry. No I think- I think is time for bed. Okay? Can give me my treat another day.'
'Does not matter right now. My Maxie thinks I'm mad at him. Never.'
That shuts Max up effectively. Eventually Charles stops kissing his head and just lays his cheek there, holding him silently.
