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catzz089 · 2 months ago

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Lestappen reverse amnesia for the Put That Guy Into A Situation ask game?? 👀👀👀

Max had been having a great day.

Perfect, even.

He’d walked to a bakery in the other side of Monaco without being interrupted, ordered and walked all the way back and still, there were no photos or autographs or anything.

And look, he appreciated that people liked him, he really did. He enjoyed hearing people shout his name in grandstands and cheer for him and make him little bracelets with “inchident” written on them. It was lovely, truly.

But god. Sometimes he missed the peace and sanctity of being alone and getting to actually live his life.

It was rare he had days like this, especially in Monaco, where all the worlds famous people are compounded into one tiny country, and people came from far and wide specifically to watch them like animals in a cage.

You couldn’t blame him for wanting a day or two in silence.

Well, not total silence.

Today had been total silence.

He hadn’t received texts from anyone. Not the team, even though he knew he was due a stern talking to for skipping a press conference.

Hell, not even Charles had texted.

Which he wasn’t upset about, he really wasn’t.

It just…

He’d been dating Charles for eight whole months, and he knew in the grand scheme of things that was nothing, but it felt so right. So normal.

They’d managed to tip-toe around each other for about a week or so, before they finally took the drive and went straight in. Since then it had been magical.

It was a new, brilliant feeling to be loved so wholeheartedly. And every single morning, every single one, they would send each other a good morning message, maybe a face time call. Probably a promise to call later. They’d continue texting throughout the entire day, even when they were still going to see each other.

Charles had never forgotten, not properly. Because even when he forgot, Max wouldn’t. Once Max sent his, Charles would usually be straight on it and it would all be perfect.

Max had sent his message at 7:42.

It was 14:28.

He wasn’t bitter. He could never be upset with Charles. It just maybe felt a little lonely.

It had been seven hours. Even if Charles had woken up late, surely it wouldn’t have been that late.

(Max knew he hadn’t woken up late. He knew. It was a Tuesday, Charles always went to the gym at 8am on a Tuesday. He also had a Ferrari meeting today, he’d been told about that last week. The meeting was at 12, Charles should be awake.)

It was fine.

Charles would message later.

———

Charles did not message later.

Max was beginning to get the sickening feeling that something was really, really wrong.

In his boredom he’d texted about a thousand other people- even Esteban got sent a meme of their podium together.

Absolutely no responses.

Not one person messaged him back.

He was desperately hoping Charles was just super busy, or maybe he’d lost his phone.

Something like that.

Charlie ❤️🏎️:

Me:

Good morning love

How are you?

Me:

Charles?

Are you okay?

Has something happened?

He’d give it an hour.

———

He did not give it an hour

It was maybe 25 minutes at best before he slipped his shoes on and slammed the door on his apartment shut.

It was a 10 minute walk, but he honestly couldn’t stop himself as he walked towards his Aston and jumped inside.

He shot down the street, desperately hoping he wouldn’t get fined for this, because a Formula 1 driver getting into issues because of a car was downright embarrassing.

Charles’ doorman didn’t spare him a glance and he swept inside and made a break for the stairs. The elevator alway took so long to open, he trusted his legs to go faster.

He didn’t waste a second, whipping out his spare key and instantly shoving it through the lock and pushing his way inside.

“Charles?” He called.

There was no response.

He walked further, going towards the kitchen.

He gently pushed open the door and-

He was slammed back with a vicious hand grabbing at his collar.

Cold sharp metal was pressed to his throat.

He barely managed to regain his balance in time to look Charles in his wide, wild eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?” Charles growled.

Max opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

What the fuck was he doing.

“Charlie?”

“Don’t fucking Charlie me,” he snarled, “who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house.”

“Um, apartment, actually.” He corrected on total instinct.

The knife pressed harder.

Expertly done, Max. Real good job.

Now he was genuinely fearing for his safety, which really fucked with his head considering this was the only person he felt completely, 100% safe and comfortable with. But for whatever reason, Charles looked to be just in the wrong side of insane, and Max had some survival instinct to his name.

“No no no, Charles. What do you mean? I’m Max. Your fucking boyfriend? What the fuck is going on?” His breaths were coming in faster now, he laughed and it sounded fake and hysterical to his own ears.

Charles’ face never softened, not like it usually did. He kept his grip firm.

“Look, man. I get you’re some fucking fan or whatever, but you do not get to break into my fucking house and act like we know each other.” He snapped.

“What? No, have you hit your head? Charles I’m your boyfriend. At the very least I’m your fucking coworker, we’ve been racing against each other since we were eight.” Max stressed.

Charles somehow managed to look even more angry.

Max grabbed his wrist and pushed the knife away, very quickly followed by Charles himself getting a firm shove as he jumped back and far far away from his pyscho insane boyfriend.

“No no no, Charles I swear. I can prove it! I can prove it!” He whipped his phone out and brandished it about like a torch.

Charles was looking at him, still very angry but at least he wasn’t being threatened with the damn knife again.

Max rushed to pull up his camera roll, clicking in the ones of their most recent date.

“Look!” He exclaimed, scrolling through the photos from afar. “It’s you and me, see! Happy! Together! Because we are dating, Charlie.”

Charles looked pale and unsure, before it flicked straight back to anger.

“Is that fucking AI? You fucking psycho, you break into my apartment claim we’re dating and then show me fake photos? You don’t think I’d be able to remember my boyfriend?”

“Well, honestly I kind of thought you’d remember your boyfriend too,” Max muttered, which was the wrong decision as the fire relit Charles eyes and he stepped forward.

Max was still far too aware of the massive kitchen knife hung in his hand and Charles’ usually harmless tendency to defend the people and things around him.

Except this time he was defending himself from his boyfriend and Max was scared.

“Okay, uhm, it seems like this is a bad time? I’ll- uh- pop back in later?” He said, more of a question than anything else.

He backed slowly towards the door, watching Charles carefully for any changes in movement; like prey escaping a predator.

When Charles seemed to register his words, and moved after him to do something, Max leapt back and out of the door, slamming it in front of him.

———

The second Max entered his apartment he make a break for his bed and collapsed onto it, burying his face in a pillow- which didn’t even fucking help because the pillow smelt like Charles and Charles didn’t even know who he was.

Was he okay?

Had he hit his head or something?

Max hoped he hadn’t, he was busy moping in bed instead of calling an ambulance for his disillusioned boyfriend. If something was wrong Max was being insanely useless.

Charles had never looked at him like that before.

Max had seen him angry, hell he’d even seen Charles angry at him. But that had been different. So, so different.

At least Charles knew his fucking name, at least they both knew they’d get it sorted out the second the emotions had calmed down. At least Max hadn’t been scared of being hurt.

His eyes gazed over his streams of messages. Some people had left him on read. Some delivered.

Nobody had responded.

No, he thought.

Charles wasn’t the issue here.

Max was.

He wasn’t sure how or why, but for some reason he was the issue and he had no fucking idea how to solve it.

He clenched his eyes shut.

What the fuck was he meant to do?

Nobody knew him.

Did he still have a job? Could he still race?

There was a month before the next one, surely that was enough time to figure it out.

God, did he have anyone?

Charles clearly didn’t remember him, what about his sister? His mother? His friends?

Was he just.. a ghost?

What had happened?

And how the fuck was he meant to get things back to the way they were?

He couldn’t live like this. He knew that.

What was the point if he woke up to a cold bed, woke up to do nothing and then went back to bed?

He wanted Charles back.

He wanted his morning cuddles and secret make out sessions and careful words back.

His heart ached at the thought that he might never get that again.

He could never love anybody else after Charles, he was it for Max. They were meant to get married and retire and move away together in a house by the water somewhere with a zoo of animals.

He brushed his hand over his neck. He could feel the raised skin where the knife had grazed. It hadn’t cut him, not properly, it had just broken a couple of the top layers of skin, leaving it red and inflamed. It hurt, almost. It hurt more that Charles had been the one to do it.

His sweet, caring Charles who always looked out for him, and held him tight and treated him with such reverence Max hardly knew how he deserved it.

Maybe he didn’t.

Maybe, some omniscient force recognised that Max didn’t deserve the love and affection Charles presented him on a silver platter, and ripped him away. It must have been too overpowered for Max to even be able to do anything.

He felt cold, like the terror creeping through his veins had turned to ice and he would never be able to feel warm again.

He fought back the tears pressing at the corners of his eyes and hauled himself up to the closet.

He pulled out a hoodie. His favourite one.

Obnoxious red with a massive 16 on the back. It smelled distinctly of his favourite cologne.

He slipped it on and flopped back into his bed.

He was overwhelmed with the scent and feel of what should’ve been pure happiness, but was now beginning to feel like the worst mix of dread and despair.

He curled up tighter, not even bothering to go underneath the covers, even if it would’ve helped with the ceaseless shivers.

His breaths turned shattered, until they turned into soft sobs ripping their way past his lips.

He gripped his legs, digging his nails in under the vauge hope it would help ground him.

The crying never stopped, no matter how hard he tried to muffle it down.

His eyelids felt wet and heavy, his entire body felt weak and useless but he just couldn’t sleep.

He checked his clock, 02:14.

His mind was still restless, running on a mill that never slowed or stopped. It just kept fucking going.

By the time his body finally gave up and lulled him into a fitful sleep, it read 04:01

———

He startled awake as a loud bang resonated across his room. He jumped upright, propping himself up on the bed with his hands, especially as his head spun at the sudden change.

He looked to the doorway, a shadowy outline of a person with their hands pressed agaisnt the side of the doorframe.

It almost looked like-

“Charles?”

He seemed to deflate, and stepped closer.

Max flinched back, thinking for just a second that Charles had returned to finish what he started, until Charles, in a voice so utterly soft and breathless said, “Oh, Max.”

Max let out some strangled mix between a sob and a sigh of relief. Charles leapt forward onto the bed and pulled Max into his arms.

Max instantly reciprocated, wrapping his arms firmly around his torso and shoving his head into the warm crook between his neck and collar as he safely positioned himself on Charles’ lap.

Charles pressed frantic kisses along the top of his head, gripping him close protectively, like nothing else in the world mattered.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry mon cœur.” He whispered.

“I swear. I swear I don’t know what came over me. I love you, Max. I love you more than you even know, sweetheart.”

Max sniffled, pressing impossibly closer.

“I’m so so sorry, I’m so sorry, baby.”

Charles gently peeled Max away from him, eliciting an embarrassing whine.

He framed Max’s face with his hands, dropping kiss after kiss on porcelain skin.

His forehead, cheeks, nose, lips. Max surged back in desperately for a stronger, firmer kiss. Charles complied easily, moving a hand to card through his hair.

Eventually, he pulled away, to Max’s displeasure.

He titled Max’s head up, taking a squinted look at his neck.

Max heard his breath hitch and felt his hands begin to tremble as they pushed Max back into his body, curling his arms tighter around him.

“God- I. Max I’m so sorry. I swear- I promise, I-“ Charles stuttered. He sounded so genuinely distraught that it hurt Max too.

He also sounded frighteningly close to tears, and Max really didn’t want that.

“It’s okay, Charlie.” He said, his voice came out low and croaky.

“No it’s not. I hurt you. I threatened you. Fuck, Max. I had a knife to your throat. What part of that is okay?”

Max sat up and snuck his arms around Charles’ neck.

“No, Charlie. You saw an intruder break into your house and did what you could to get them out.” He said sternly. “I don’t know what happened yesterday. But nobody knew me. You couldn’t have done anything about that. That is exactly what I want you to do whenever someone breaks in.”

Charles looked miserable staring at him. Max smiled softly and kissed his forehead.

“The intruder isn’t meant to be you, baby. You came in with a key. That’s not intruding. And what if I had been worse? I don’t ever, ever want to hurt you. I want to keep you safe from everything, but I was the one putting you in danger.”

Max frowned.

“I’m okay, Charlie. You didn’t hurt me. I’ve done worse itching my neck.” He explained, his throat was begging him to stop talking but he had to keep going until he forced it through his boyfriend’s thick skull.

Charles huffed a little hysterically, “You’re eyes are raw and red, I came in and you were curled up on top of the duvet wearing my hoodie that you were clinging on to way too tightly. You have massive black circles under your eyes and a cut on your neck that I put there.”

Max loved him so much. But sometimes he was so stupid.

“Yes, well you’re here now, aren’t you? You can fix me up nice and quickly. You’re always the best at it.”

Charles perked up at that, not obviously but Max knew. He would always know.

“Yes, of course- I mean… Can I? Please?” He asked hopefully.

Max let out a wet laugh, “Yes, of course Schat. I finally get you back, obviously I want you to take care of me.”

Charles sighed in relief, pulling Max back in and flopping them both down into bed so they were lying down. He kicked the sheets down until he could flick them over the both of them, encasing them in warmth.

Max cuddled happily into him, dropping a trail of kisses across his neck.

“I think,” Charles whispered, “We start by getting some more sleep. Then I can make you a nice breakfast, and we can have breakfast in bed-“

“Charlie,” Max giggled, “You can’t even boil pasta properly. You’ll burn my apartment down if you try breakfast.”

Charles gasped dramatically, “Lies and slander, mon trésor. How dare you.” He grabbed Max’s waist and flipped them both over, so Max was underneath Charles, staring up at him as he sat up and straddled Max’s waist.

“You’ll pay for this, baby. I have no other option.” He monologued. “I’m going to have to torture you,” He bent down and pressed a flurry of kissed over Max’s face, coating every available surface until Max was laughing and writhing underneath him.

“Charles! Get your slobber off of me!” He shrieked, but Charles continued his attack with vigour.

“Have you had enough, sweetheart? Because I’m afraid we aren’t done yet!”

Max managed to get his arms free enough to cover his face from the onslaught and pushed back against Charles’ face.

“I surrender! I surrender!” He shouted, and Charles finally let up.

“Fine fine,” he drawled, “Just let me see your pretty face.”

Charles coaxed his arms away from his smiling face and dropped one more firm kiss onto his lips.

They grinned at each other, the previous day forgotten. Charles grabbed at Max’s waist again to spin them back over so Max could curl back into his chest again, exactly where he belonged.

“I love you, baby.” Charles sighed fondly.

“I love you too, Charlie.”

#if you look closely #you can find a hint on who the informant is #I haven’t made it particularly obvious though #ficlet #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #lestappen #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #formula 1 fanfic #asks #writing prompts #prompts #reverse amnesia

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