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golden-cherry · 52 minutes
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part two, now on AO3 and Wattpad
deal - cl16 (2/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The first breakfast together is a good idea to get to know each other better. And to make the first arrangements. And to cheer each other up.
Warnings: google translated French, mention of "nice guys"
Word Count: 3.4k
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A/N: part two my loves! please tell me if you liked it!
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Back when you went to school, you always woke up to the cooing of the pigeons that lived in the tree outside your childhood bedroom. They announced the new day, which was filled with learning, friends and fun. True, the time of your graduation had been incredibly exhausting, but in all the summers that followed, you woke up in the morning to the same sound and nostalgia felt like an old friend.
But now it's mid December. There are no birds outside whose chirping might wake you in the morning. And yet you've been lying awake in your bed for an hour.
All night you've been thinking. Charles apparently didn't try to break into the bedroom to kill you. You haven't heard any strange noises all night. But deep sleep was still out of the question with a complete stranger sleeping on the couch one room over. He did seem nice last night - after you had talked things out halfway - but the "nice guys" are also the worst in the end. 
After all, you had to experience that firsthand. 
Hands clasped behind your head, you stare at the white ceiling of your room. Your cell phone is lying next to your pillow. Some time ago, you lost it somewhere in your bedspread, and when you had to shake it out, the phone flew into the nearest wall. Since then it has its permanent place near your head.
A quick glance at it tells you that Charles will theoretically be asleep for just under two more hours - if you can believe him. Normally, you'd be getting ready for work right now and eating breakfast. Maybe you'd fry up some fried eggs or make some yogurt with berries. And then you'd go to work in peace.
Frustrated, you put your forearms over your face.
Right after you woke up, you googled for new job openings, but except for a new dog-sitter job posting, there doesn't seem to be anything new. Nothing at all. If the job were advertised with a reasonable salary that would allow you to continue financing your life in Monaco, you'd think twice about applying.
Finding a job that suits you, is fun, and pays a good salary is incredibly difficult. Almost impossible. When you were younger, you once saw a picture of a triangle on the internet. One corner said "friends," the second said "good grades," and the third said "sleep." The caption read "You can only choose two." That's exactly how job hunting feels.
You wouldn't tell Charles about it. Your unemployment, like his affairs, is private. If he asks, you'll simply say you're off because the company requires its employees to take vacation days in December. Doesn't sound convincing, but at least it doesn't completely suck.
Oh God, hopefully he won't ask.
As your stomach speaks up with an almost embarrassingly loud bubbling sound, you can no longer suppress your hunger. You slip out of bed and change from your sleep outfit - a big shirt and comfy sports shorts - into a pair of jeans and a comfy sweater before quietly turning the key in the door lock.
The rest of the apartment is silent. You sneak into the bathroom on your socks to brush your teeth and quickly comb your hair. As you slip on your shoes at the front door, you glance toward the couch to make sure you weren't dreaming last night.
The fact that a stranger is suddenly standing in your apartment, claiming that it is his apartment, sounds very far-fetched. And that he then spontaneously starts cooking sounds even more implausible. 
But you didn't imagine it. Charles is lying with his back turned to you between the pillows, the blanket tangled between his legs. He seems to be sound asleep, because when you open the apartment door, he doesn't move a bit. 
After taking a good look at the dog-sitting job this morning - two cute dachshunds, Hubert and Guenther - you had drawn up a chart of the things your new roommate and you would need to discuss.
Cleaning the apartment, for example. Since you'd still be staying in the bedroom, you'd obviously keep the room clean. Maybe you could also clear out a drawer in the dresser for Charles to put some of his things in, so he doesn't have to live out of a suitcase. But it's definitely too early for that. After all, you've only known each other since yesterday.
Although the morning has just begun, the sun is shining pleasantly warm as you walk to the nearest bakery. Having breakfast together definitely can't hurt if you plan to get to know each other better so that your shared apartment can function well. As long as Charles doesn't kill you and gets a little involved as far as organization goes, you'll be fine. Last night he already said that there are some things that need to be discussed today. And as long as the organization and in the end also the execution is not only dependent on you, the ship will probably not sink. 
Marie, the incredibly nice saleswoman who gives you a small, free piece of cake every Saturday, bags you two pain au chocolat and two croissants before you pay and she wishes you a nice day. While you don't know what Charles likes to eat for breakfast - if he eats breakfast at all - you're certainly not barking up the wrong tree with the pastries. Besides, breakfast isn't just about getting to know each other better and getting some structure, but you'd also like to apologize. For being willing to hit him over the head with the newspaper.
You quietly enter the apartment, only to find that Charles is already awake despite the time - 8:13 a.m. He's sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you close the door behind you. His brown hair is sticking up from his head, and he wearily runs a hand through his strands before looking at you.
"Bonjour." His voice seems to have dropped an octave since last night, and it's rougher than yesterday, too, which is probably due to waking up. His gaze moves from your face to the bags in your hand. "Petit déjeuner?" Breakfast. You nod. "Pour nous deux?" For both of us? Again, you nod. Charles closes his eyes briefly before rising from the couch. "Give me a moment. Be right back."
While he's in the bathroom, you put two plates on the dining room table and add everything that could be used for a good breakfast. You quickly rinse the dishes Charles put in the sink yesterday and put them away. 
When your new roommate rejoins you, he looks more awake. He sits down across from you at the table and reaches for a bag. As he grabs a croissant, he looks briefly surprised, but you're too distracted by the pillow print on his cheek to notice. 
"How did you sleep?" he asks as you take a bite of your pain au chocolat. 
You swallow. What are you supposed to answer him? That you slept fitfully all night, afraid he might be a murderer after all? Would be a great topic of conversation to start the day. 
"I don't know," you answer neutrally. Charles tilts his head. "I mean, it was kind of weird knowing that someone completely foreign was sleeping just one room over."
"I'll bet." His smile is faint, but genuine. Little dimples bore into his cheeks. "Maybe we should make sure we're not particularly strangers to each other then. After all, we'll be living here together for quite some time. And I'd hate to be responsible for you not getting a decent night's sleep."
"It's okay," you answer him. "I haven't slept properly in ages."
"I'm always told that a good night's sleep is important. That's why mine is sacred to me." He rubs his free hand over the dark stubble on his chin. "Besides, it's not healthy not to sleep soundly. From that point of view, it's worth a try to me. And I'd hate to be responsible for your poor sleep. 
Most of all, you'd like to tell him that while his presence unsettled you last night, he's not the reason you can't rest, or sleep through the night. That he's not responsible for you falling asleep late and waking up early. But you don't. Because it's none of his business.
"While we're on the subject -" you put your pain au chocolat on the plate in front of you, "why are you up already? Did I wake you up? I swear I was trying to be really quiet, but -"
"I got a call," he says curtly. "Until you were standing in the doorway, I didn't even know you were gone. So, everything's cool." The smile is gone from his face. Apparently, his caller is just as popular as the one you pushed away last night. Or maybe he's just tired.
Since it's none of your business, you try to distract him. "So, Charles. How about it? What else is in you besides being able to cook? What do I need to know about you?"
Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc turned twenty-five in October, born and raised in Monaco. He has two brothers, one of whom is older than him and the other younger. He speaks English, French and Italian and does a lot of sports. He likes to eat pasta, but his nutritionist - who the heck has a nutritionist? Someone who can afford to have a second home in Monaco, of course - always advises him against it. 
He also travels a lot for work reasons. On his cell phone he has a lot of photos that he has taken in different countries and to be honest, you are already a little envious. Except for your home country and Monaco, you've never been anywhere else. What would you give to be able to travel so much? A dream that will probably remain denied to you, if your bank balance is to be trusted.
Some of the photos, he confesses, were taken by Joris - your Joris. You knew Joris was also a photographer by trade, and judging from the pictures, he's incredibly good at what he does. Apparently, the two of them travel together more often. Either the two are best friends or Joris is Charles' personal photographer. Or both. 
He won't tell you exactly what the Monegasque does for a living, though. "Something with cars," is his answer, and since you have relatively little idea about it, it's quite enough for you. He tells you a lot about himself, and you secretly hope that the information he gets from you will be enough for him, and that he will please not ask about your job.
But there you are mistaken.
"So what do you do for a living?"
The pastries are eaten so you crumple up the bags and throw them in the trash can. You stand up, and as you turn your back on Charles, your face contorts briefly. "I'm a photographer."
You hear Charles rise from his chair as well, stacking the plates. You barely noticeably flinch as he suddenly stands next to you. "And who do you work for?" He places the plates in the empty sink, grabs the sponge and detergent, and begins washing the dishes.
"For a small magazine, nothing wild," you reply curtly, drying the clean plate Charles holds out to you with his foam soaked fingers. It clanks as you put it in the cupboard with the others. 
"For that one?" He points with a nod to the magazine lying on the small coffee table. Of course, it's the one you threatened him with yesterday. A wide grin spreads across his face as you roll your eyes. 
"Sorry," you apologize, but are secretly glad for the opportunity to change the subject. "What would you do if someone strange suddenly showed up at your apartment?"
"I'd probably threaten to call the police." You don't know how that's possible, but his grin gets even wider and his dimples even deeper.
You have to grin. "Ah, so we're joking about that now? That I was standing there all scared, armed only with a magazine?"
Charles' gaze is amused, but gentle. The green in his eyes sparkles as he looks at you. "Just wrapped in a towel, not to mention. But I'm sure you would have kicked my ass."
Charles stows his bedding in the hall closet while you wipe down the table to clean up the last remnants of your first breakfast together. After fluffing the couch cushions, he sits down and pulls his laptop from his backpack. Stretching out his legs, he gestures for you to join him. 
"So," he begins as you sit down at the other end of the couch. You pull your knees to your chest as he waits for you to get comfortable. There are only a few inches between your feet. "I couldn't sleep last night, so I've been thinking about all the things that come up when you have a roommate." He looks up from his laptop for a moment. "Well, actually, I was just Googling."
You're pleasantly surprised that he actually thought about it. And apparently, not just a bit. He's even created an Excel spreadsheet, with weekly plans, tasks, and a financial overview, as far as grocery shopping goes. He included every little detail in his lists. 
Very dedicated, the young man in front of you. 
"We're summarizing." Charles stretches out his arms and folds his hands behind his head. You've spent an hour talking everything out, going over several possibilities, and finally you've come to a common denominator.
"Since you live in the bedroom, it's also your job to keep the room clean." That was the easiest point. "And that's why it's up to me to clean the living room. The bathroom gets cleaned weekly, on a rotating basis. Since you just cleaned it recently, it's my turn next week."
You come to an agreement that you will buy groceries from the money in the joint household fund - a small cookie jar where you actually stored sewing supplies - and he will cook instead. Since you're more of a frozen pizza kind of person and his nutritionist sends him a weekly meal plan, Charles also wants to put more money into the household fund. The fact that you benefit from both the meal plan and his generosity doesn't seem to bother him.
"That settles the organizational stuff," he finishes, setting his laptop aside. "But we should establish other rules. For the interpersonal stuff."
You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow. "Interpersonal?"
"Yup." He stretches again, and his white shirt slides up a little so you can see a strip of skin from his belly. You quickly look away. "Communication and stuff. So if something's bothering you, please tell me." Charles crosses his arms in front of his chest, his shirt straining over his biceps. "I don't feel like having to ask five times to get you to finally come clean. My patience is definitely too thin for that."
Understandable. Your patience is not quite that thin, but when someone doesn't speak up and then acts passive-aggressively, that's a no-go for you, too. 
"Open communication. Got it." You cross your arms in front of your chest as well. "But then please give me a heads up if you're bringing someone home with you. I don't want to come home at some point and be left in just a towel again. And if you do bring girls, I'll stay the night somewhere else." With his looks, you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have at least five women wrapped around his little finger. Maybe you're crossing a line with the request, but if this whole thing is going to work out, it should be cleared up.
The smile that just now had a firm place on his face disappears. "Don't worry. It's not going to happen."
Apparently you have crossed a line, or rather hit a sore spot. All of a sudden Charles seems tense, the relaxed atmosphere seems to be lost and you would love to take it all back and apologize, but your roommate is faster.
"I don't think we need to talk about privacy. Everyone has their own stuff to deal with. If someone wants to talk about it voluntarily, that's fine, but no one is being pressured into anything here." You nod silently. "And I think honesty is important. I experience so much dishonesty in my job and it makes life so much more difficult and stressful. Just be honest with me, no matter what, and I promise I'll be honest with you, too. No matter what it's about."
The topic of unemployment pops into your head, but disappears again as Charles scoots closer to you on the couch and sits up straight. "We'll work it out. As long as you promise not to murder me in my sleep. After all, I don't have the option of locking myself in a room." His smile has returned to his face. It's faint, but at least it's there. 
"You caught that?" you ask, biting your lower lip.
"Like I said, the walls aren't very thick. But I don't blame you." He winks at you. "But I hope I'm not a complete stranger to you now."
He's actually not. True, you haven't talked about much personal stuff yet, but that's sure to come with time. Or maybe it won't. Sharing an apartment doesn't necessarily mean you'll become best friends. And that would be fine, too.
"I'll think twice about locking the door tonight," you quip, and his smile widens. It's so infectious that you follow suit.
"All right. I think we can work this out. I haven't drawn up a roommate agreement now, but we're both adults. We'll stick to the agreements and if one of us thinks of anything else, we'll talk it over and work it out." He holds out his hand for you to shake. "Deal?"
You hold out your hand as well, but before you can shake his, the cell phone in your pocket rings. You pull it out and when you see who's calling you, your smile vanishes in a millisecond.
Why is he calling you? Hasn't he humiliated you enough? Embarrassed you? Made you the joke of your - former - friend group? What does he want from you now?
You press the call away and, frustrated, toss the cell phone between you on the couch and rub your hands over your face. You don't notice that Charles has caught on to the situation until he speaks up.
"Are you busy now?" As you look at him, he's still smiling, but a little softer. His smile doesn't reach his ears now, but the green in his eyes gleams nonetheless. 
You exhale loudly. You're out of a job. What could you possibly be up to? "No. Why?"
Charles gets up from the couch. "Then let's do something. I know a really good lookout point. You can see all of Monaco from there."
Whether he actually feels like doing something with you, or is suggesting it out of pity, you don't know. But maybe Charles deserves a little benefit of the doubt. And you definitely don't feel like sitting around on the couch waiting for anything to happen.
"Come on, Y/N," he tries to coax you out of your shell.
"Are you going to take me to a secluded place to kill me? Or are you really going to show me a nice lookout point?" You stand up so that you are facing each other. You have to tilt your head back a little to look him in the eyes.
Charles looks down at you. "Do you really think I'd kill you now, after we've spent ages discussing our shared apartment? Wouldn't that be wasted energy?" He rolls his eyes playfully. "Give yourself a break."
"Fine," you reply to him. You raise your hand and point your index finger at him. "But if that lookout isn't the most beautiful I've ever seen, I may kill you."
Charles laughs. He almost closes his eyes at that. The sound is so heartfelt you have to grin.
"Deal."
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golden-cherry · 1 hour
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When they have their first kiss I swear
Mind blown
honestly, same
I really can’t wait for them to finally kiss
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golden-cherry · 1 hour
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Fuck angst and fluff (pardon my french) we need damn right smut. Thirsty souls here sis. ✊🏼💦🥵
Lysm
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golden-cherry · 1 hour
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DJ/Photographer/Dancer Lando
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golden-cherry · 2 hours
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I love that Carlando are like “we get along because we have a similar sense of humor” when said sense of humor is just staring at each other with face-splitting grins while quietly emitting sounds so high in frequency that only dogs can hear
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golden-cherry · 1 day
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I’M SAT. 😮‍💨
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golden-cherry · 1 day
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I think they should have a “it was nothing” kiss and let the drama, confusion and back and forth cold shoulders start from there looool
what’s your opinion on this, chat?
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golden-cherry · 2 days
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what the heck another anon, just now that i convinced her to do a fluff chapter of them sleeping together? 😩😭
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golden-cherry · 3 days
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As long as this story ends on a good (love) note 🤞🏾
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golden-cherry · 3 days
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As long as this story ends on a good (love) note 🤞🏾
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golden-cherry · 3 days
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We need a good mix of angst AND fluff
- angst to spice up somethings
- fluff to get them even closer(and wanting eachother even more) after the angst
My mind
I like how your mind works
I already have something planned 😁
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golden-cherry · 3 days
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what the heck another anon, just now that i convinced her to do a fluff chapter of them sleeping together? 😩😭
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golden-cherry · 3 days
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closeups, australian gp 2024
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golden-cherry · 3 days
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Don't Blink S4E4 // Italian GP '23
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golden-cherry · 3 days
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golden-cherry · 3 days
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golden-cherry · 4 days
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Im the anon who said fight but now im scared 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 u agreed too easy 😳
I‘m sorry, this account has a no-return-policy for wishes 🫶🏻
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