Max on the last podium: ran around to hose down Charles, and looked super happy. (while being second).
Max today: won the race, but he paid no attention to the Mercedes drivers...
It's OK Max, Charles will be back soon. ❤️
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Max genuinely looked happier P2 on the podium with Charles P1 and celebrating together, Charles closing the gap and making the championship battle more interesting, than being P1, practically "securing" the championship for himself because Charles didn't score any points.
You can say what you want, about who likes who, and what kind of rivalry they have, but they have a special relationship and I'm going to enjoy watching it for years to come!
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I’m sorry, I saw the notification, secret agent AU?
ldskfsldkjf i forgot i put that in the tags, but yes!! i thought of a lestappen secret agent au back when charles was still in his ferrari angst stage (though who knows if he's fully out of it...), so the entire thing is centered around charles (agent 16 ofc) from one agency being sent to work with max from another agency (rebranded from 33 to agent 1 ofc) on a mission. they initially butt heads but eventually grow close, and the main plot involves the two of them realizing that something is amiss with their orders and they have to decide whether to stick with them or go with their gut. charles takes some time to come around to the idea of disobeying orders but eventually they [insert vague description of taking down a big bad here] and live happily ever after <3 now that i've typed this all out it's kind of like the man from uncle movie remake, if you've ever seen that?
anyway, here's a snippet i've cleaned up from my notes, since i'm not sure i will ever write this:
(context for the scene: max goes to do some reconnaissance and returns to the safehouse wounded; charles bandages him up while scolding him for making him worry)
"Looks like I owe you a drink, no?" Max says. Despite not looking at his face, Charles can feel the amusement radiating off of him--which is so stupid considering Max was practically bleeding to death on the balcony before Charles found him. Max is so stupid.
"Shut up," Charles says, kneeling in front of him with the roll of bandages in one hand, scissors in the other. "You talk too much."
"I thought you liked my bedtime stores."
"Don't. You're such a reckless, hot-headed, and--"
"Oh, there's more?"
"--and a no brains idiot."
Max hums and shifts on the bed. "Is that a compliment?"
"Of course it isn't, you imbecile."
"Haven't heard that one before." Max starts shaking, then grimaces, holding his chest. "Ow, Charles, don't make me laugh."
Charles glares at him. "Then don't get yourself shot at." He wraps Max's chest in two, three, four--five? he's lost count--layers of bandages, just to prove his point.
Max stops him before he can unwind the last layer. "The bleeding's stopped."
Charles wrestles his arm out of Max's grasp. "I'm the one with medical training." He snips off the ends and ties them off with a harder-than-necessary knot. "Not you."
Max grunts and rolls his eyes. "We all have medical training."
"I could perform surgery on you with a butter knife. You can hardly sew yourself up," Charles says flatly. He saw the way Max's hands trembled the other day. It had been odd, to say the least, seeing proof of Max's humanity; a flaw amongst his many perfections. Max didn't tell him what had happened, so Charles didn't ask.
"So you were watching me after all," says Max, raising his eyebrows, a questioning smirk pulling at his lips.
Charles grits his teeth. He's so sick of it; sick of how Max turns every serious conversation into a joke. One of these days, Max will pay for it with his life, and there will be nothing Charles can do.
"Occupational hazard," he says. He picks the pair of scissors off of Max's lap, preparing to stand up and give his knees a break--just as a hand around his wrist pulls him back down.
"Charles," Max says.
"Unhand me."
"You're leaving?"
He couldn't even if he tried, Charles thinks. It's long past any talk of leaving.
Charles swallows around the lump in his throat, staring ahead at the stain on the faded wallpaper across the room. "I need to put this away," he says, gripping the scissors.
Max places two gentle fingers to the side of Charles' jaw, tilting his face up. "I'm back. I'm safe because you came to find me. I will always come back to you."
Charles' breath hitches, a small little sound that catches in his chest, hangs in his ears. The swirls of Max's fingertips burn through his skin. Even inside their safehouse, this is too much time spent in the same location to be smart, but he doesn't dare move.
Max studies him as Charles does the same--runs his eyes over the outward curve of Max's nose, the bold contours of his cheekbones, the freckle on his lip; that damn freckle that's been driving Charles insane since Max first walked into the room with his hands in his pockets and that confident smile of his, inviting and intoxicating. Sitting here in front of the open window, warmed by the fireplace and Max's body heat, he can't conjure up a single reason as to why he hasn't kissed that smirk off of Max's face yet.
He leans in and does the deed now.
Max flinches--a triumph that Charles files away in the back of his mind, in the cabinet labeled with Max Verstappen in permanent ink--but he's quick to get with the program, all but pulling Charles off of the ground and onto his lap. The scissors fall to the wooden floor with a muted thud as Charles nestles his hands over Max's chest.
"Careful with the ribs," Max murmurs against Charles' lips. "Still hurts a bit."
"Then don't get yourself shot at," Charles repeats, arousal low and wanting in his belly. Holding an emotion that's not trepidation or fear inside his body feels good; exciting. He presses his fingers around the core of Max's wound, feeling Max's heartbeat singing strongly through the bandages. "And anyway, I think red looks good on you."
"If you're trying to get me into your clothes, Agent 16," says Max, palming Charles' ass, "it's not going to work."
"I'm just telling the truth." Charles frames Max's face with his hands and dips his thumb into Max's mouth, scratching at the freckle. "Now shut up and kiss me, Agent 1."
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Will Buxton: As fans of this sport, since Bahrain, we have been relishing watching you and Charles fight each other. We saw it again last time out in Austria. How much do you - on a Saturday night go to bed looking forward to racing on Sunday?
Max Verstappen: I mean I’ve been doing this racing, especially also against Charles, for a long time. So I think we are all excited. And you know, to be able to do that in Formula 1 again, from all of the previous years already racing together, I just think it’s really cool.
🎥: F1TV (post-qualifying interview, 2022 French Grand Prix)
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