The Right Time (Lestappen)

Congratulations

It was fair to say that this was not the start to the season Max had been expecting. It was the Thursday before the first race in Bahrain and he was currently the hot topic of conversation at the drivers meeting. For once it had nothing to do with his driving style, although he wished that it did. The discussions were getting heated with the drivers seemingly appalled that there had even been a suggestion Max shouldn't be allowed to race in Saudi Arabia next weekend.

Lewis had taken the lead and had given an impassioned speech which had whipped the other drivers up into a frenzy. As soon as Max had told him about the FIA's plans Lewis had been quick to jump to the younger man's defence. Although they hadn't been the closest of friends he did like Max and more than that he was proud of him and didn't think he should suffer any consequences because of his sexuality. Lewis was also painfully aware that this could be happening to him. He felt like a hypocrite as he discussed how great it was for the sport that there was a gay driver and that this should be embraced. For all his talk he had not yet told anyone that he was in fact bisexual. If he had, then maybe Max wouldn't be feeling quite so alone in all this. Lewis couldn't help shake the feeling of guilt but he convinced himself that standing up for Max was his way of making up for things.

Max was more than happy to let Lewis take the lead whilst he spent the meeting slouched in his seat, his cap pulled down trying to make himself as invisible as possible. He tried to decide whether it was possible to die of embarrassment. He determined that it mustn't be because if it was he definitely would have perished by now.

At least it seemed that Lewis had been right, there was strength in numbers and the FIA concluded that there had been a 'miscommunication' and he would, after all, be allowed to race.

'Miscommunication' Max muttered under his breathe, there had been no miscommunication at all. Without the pressure from the other drivers he most certainly would not have been lining up on the starting grid at Saudi next week. Still, his involvement was not without restrictions. A follow up meeting had made clear two points. One was that he would not be allowed to take part in any of the pre-race press conferences. Max smiled to himself, whilst it was pathetic not to involve him it also meant he could focus solely on racing. The second was that he was to obey the laws of the country and not to engage in any activity that would bring the FIA into disrepute. He had to bite his tongue because the sarcastic part of him wanted to ask whether that meant he needed to cancel the gay orgy he had organised for the drivers on the Sunday evening. He suspected the joke would not be appreciated so simply nodded along to their conditions.

The weekend may not have started how Max had planned but it certainly ended the way he wanted it to. He stood proudly on the top step of the podium, the Dutch national anthem blaring out across the track. The sound of applause ringing out. This is exactly what he wanted, to remind everyone what he could do so they could turn their attention away from his private life and towards his racing abilities. Even better, it was a 1-2 for Red Bull with Daniel Ricciardo picking up second place. Max was especially pleased to keep Daniel behind him, not that he disliked Daniel but the thought of having to participate in Daniel's 'shoey' celebrations made him feel a bit sick, why would anyone really want to drink champagne from a sweaty shoe?!

Lewis hadn't thought a podium was possible mid way through the race. Charles seemed to be comfortable in third but some questionable strategic calls from Ferrari had turned what was a comfortable podium into a fourth place finish. The Monegasque driver was not pleased but the Brit was more than happy to take advantage of the situation.

Charles didn't remove his racing helmet until he was safely in the confines of his driver's room. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone and he definitely needed to cool down before speaking to the team. He knew fourth wasn't a disaster but as he watched the podium celebrations on the small screen in his room he felt himself getting more agitated, he should have been on that podium. Without realising it his fists had clenched into balls and his body was stiff with tension. He saw Max chasing Lewis with the champagne spray, the two of them laughing and exchanging smiles before clinking the bottles together and drinking in celebration. He saw the way Lewis wrapped his arm around Max's back and pulled him in tight for the photo. There was no need to be that close. Charles wondered if everyone else had noticed how Max's body tensed at Lewis' touch. Probably not, he doubted anyone else was watching quite so closely. He turned the small screen off, not wanting to see anymore. It should have been him up there on the podium, he couldn't help but feel jealous that Lewis had taken what was rightfully his.

It was gone midnight when Charles realised that in all his frustration he hadn't even had an opportunity to congratulate Max today. He normally would have seen him around the paddock and they would have had their usual debrief but today they had missed each other. He wondered whether it would be strange to text him now. He looked at his watch, it was 1am, Max would probably be asleep anyway. He took out his phone and kept the message as simple as possible, just one word - Congratulations. He didn't really expect to get a response, although he hoped he would, but almost immediately a message came back - Come and celebrate with me. Room 213.

Charles was sure he just felt his heart stop as he stared at the message. He felt himself panicking a little. Was Max really inviting him to his room in the early hours of the morning? Would he have other friends there? What type of way do you celebrate in a hotel room at 1am? He considered pretending not to have seen the message, avoiding the awkwardness altogether but deep down he really wanted to see Max. He always wanted to see Max.

He knocked on the door not quite sure what to expect but he didn't have to wait long to find out as Max answered almost immediately. He was drunk. Extremely drunk. The smell of alcohol hit Charles straight away but that wasn't the only thing that had caught Charles' immediate question. Max was wearing nothing but a pair of tight boxers. Charles kept his gaze up, trying desperately to stop his eyes wondering over Max's body. He felt Max grab him by the wrist and drag him inside.

'I have something for you' Max slurred a little but sounded pleased with himself as he reached down and picked up two bottles of champagne he had purchased from the hotel bar. He handed one to Charles.

'We both know you deserved to be on the podium today. So we have our own podium now.'

Max was laughing as he popped the champagne bottle and started to spray Charles. Charles wasn't sure if this was really happening. He suddenly felt intoxicated, as if the smell of the champagne alone had gone straight to his head. He was breathing funnily, his whole body tingling as the wet champagne hit him. Max looked playful, a wicked grin on his face and his eyes sparkling. Charles knew he could never get enough of those eyes. Getting caught up in the moment Charles shuck the champagne bottle before covering Max in its contents. Max jumped and squealed a little at the cold champagne on his bare flesh, the bubbles and foam soaking into him leaving his skin glistening. Charles now poured the remainder of his bottle over the top of Max's head, leaving the Dutch man giggling as he ran his hand through his champagne drenched hair. Max took hold of Charles' arm and pulled him in closely.

'Do you want to know a secret?' He started laughing again, 'I'm really drunk'

'I know' Charles couldn't help but laugh as Max suddenly lay down on the floor.

'Good night Charles' Max yawned a little as he closed his eyes.

'You can't sleep on the floor'

Charles just about managed to hoist Max up on to the bed, almost falling on top of him in the process. His body was now pressed up so tight against the other driver's that he could feel the dampness of his champagne soaked torso. Charles lingered there for a second, letting his eyes trace over the Dutch mans lips, wondering how Max would react if he were to press his own lips up against them. It took every last bit of will power not to kiss him but Charles knew how drunk Max was and he didn't want to take advantage of the situation.

'Do you want to know another secret?' Max leaned in and whispered in Charles' ear, 'I think you have the most beautiful eyes.'

Max smiled, a look of pure happiness on his face before he closed his eyes. Charles suddenly felt a warm feeling spreading from his toes right through his body, goosebumps spreading on his skin as he let Max's words sink in. Max was now half asleep and Charles got up and made sure to move him on his side before putting a cover over him. As he turned the light off and closed the door behind him he wondered whether Max would even remember this in the morning.

As he made his way back to his room all Charles could picture was Max, barely dressed, drenched in champagne, laying back on the bed below him with a look of pure happiness on his face. There were two things Charles knew for sure, one he was never going to forget that image and two he needed to get back to the privacy of his hotel room quickly. 

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Thank you to everyone still reading and thank you for the votes and comments <3. 

Obviously all the race results are made up so I apologise that Charles is having issues with Ferrari strategy even in this story!