Little Did You Know

Chapter 4: Sneller!

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For the first night back they opt to let Max spend the night with Checo at their apartment in Milton Keynes, to avoid causing further distress to little Max by separating them and also hoping the familiarity of the place would help the child feel more settled. They would all meet for breakfast at the Horner-Wolff residence in Buckingham to plan their next steps, and boy there was a lot of planning that needed to be done.

Their house sitter kept the apartment in top shape and fed the cats whenever they weren't home. The cats or Checo would say Max's cats, Kiki and Puka, two creatures that could be as devilish as their owner and just as temperamental, and the Mexican really really hopes they'll like this young Max as much as they like the older one.

In reality, Checo didn't have anything against the cats, or cats in general, but if it were up to him they'd have a dog or better yet no pets at all, he liked interacting with animals but just found everything getting covered in fur rather annoying.

Entering the apartment, the scent of familiarity enveloped them, the space bore the traces of their lives together - memorabilia, scattered trophies and, racing gear, and, of course, the telltale signs of feline mischief. From their scratch tower, Max's devil spawn duo eyed the newcomers with a mix of curiosity and indifference.

Checo wasn't done closing the door when Max beamed with excitement and rushed to greet the creatures. "Kitties! Kiki! Puka!" he exclaimed, his toddler enthusiasm infectious and the cats seemed to recognize their owner, even standing to greet the small blond boy with the nonchalant grace that only cats possess.

Setting their luggage along the entry hall Checo observed the interaction with a mix of amusement and caution. He knew the kinds of legendary mischief these cats could conjure, and a subtle wariness lingered in his eyes. "They seem... friendly," Checo remarked, offering a tentative pat to Puka, who responded with a disdainful flick of the tail making him scoff but truly he was grateful the animals were friendly with Max who seemed to love cats as much as a child as he did an adult.

The cats entertained Max for a while letting Checo put their stuff away and moved anything around the apartment that might not be safe being within reach-level of a 3-year-old, but eventually, the cats climbed where the toddler wouldn't reach them and it was turn for Checo to do the entertaining, a game of hide and seek was in order.

"¡Listo o no allá voy!" (Ready or not here I come!) Four rounds in, it was Max's turn to hide and in searching for the child, Checo found him in the gaming room, the space was lit dimly, the de-aged racer was fully engrossed playing pretend with the turned-off racing simulator. The laughter from their game of hide and seek had given way to the allure of the familiar racing setup, and the child sat perched on the racing sim chair, hands barely grasping at the steering wheel that wouldn't move.

Checo couldn't help but feel a twinge in his heart at the sight, the child, now deeply lost in the world of imaginary racing, seemed to have completely forgotten their game.

"A ver, Leoncito," (Let's see, Little Lion,) With a quiet determination, Checo set about configuring the racing simulator, adjusting the settings to accommodate them both, he then lifted the child onto his lap, positioning tiny hands on the wheel, and with a smile, they embarked on a virtual journey around various tracks.

As the simulated engine roared to life, Checo managed the pedals while guiding Max's hands on the wheel. The child's face lit up with concentration, mirroring the determined expression that had become synonymous with Max Verstappen's racing persona.

"Sneller!" (Faster!) The innocence in the small voice urging Checo to step on the throttle, but the freckled man went into a coughing fit having to pause the game, he didn't know many words in Dutch but that one he knew fairly well and it had him blushing, like him, Max tended to forget English during... er... certain moments in life. "Checo! Okay??" The kid's face contorted in worry at the fit.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat a last time, "Yeah, I'm okay," when he could breathe properly again Checo resumed the game pretending nothing happened, though he was mighty embarrassed by his reaction to the word.

The room echoed once more with the laughter of a child experiencing the thrill of racing, and Checo, with each lap, glimpsed a familiar spark in Max's eyes, the same spark that his boyfriend had when he was genuinely relaxed and having actual fun.

Having set up the guest room for the child Max to sleep in after a long day of traveling, running around playing games, and sim racing it all came back to the cats. Checo has one rule, no cats in the bedrooms- this, however, made the transition to bedtime into an unexpected struggle as Max, despite his exhaustion, staunchly refused to settle down. The source of the bedtime rebellion, it turned out, was Kiki and Puka, who, according to Max's unwavering kid logic, needed to share the bed with him because he couldn't sleep alone in such a big bed, and, admittedly, Max did look rather small in the middle of the queen-sized bed.

Being rather tired himself, Checo, navigating the delicate balance of handling a de-aged Max, cats, and just life in general, found himself caught in the negotiations. With a gentle smile, he proposed a compromise - he would let Max stay with him instead. The reassurance seemed to satisfy the child who didn't hesitate to jump out of the bed and run to the master bedroom when Checo caught up Max was already burrowed between the soft sheets and waiting for him looking even tinier on the king bed.

With a sigh and knowing he had been masterfully played, Checo settled on his side of the bed turning the lights off and curling onto his side, not long after he heard Max shuffling until he was nestled close to his Checo facing the man, small hands pushed and pulled until the toddler made sure the Mexican's arm was securely wrapped around his back.

"Ay Maxito, que bueno que escogiste a Chris de papá porque a mi la neta, me haces como te da tu gana." (Oh little Max, it's really good you picked Chris as your dad, because truth is, me, you do with me as you please.) Checo sighed before softly humming a lullaby to ease the kid finally into sleep.

The room, now filled with the soft rhythmic breaths of a sleeping child, became a haven of peace.

Sleep didn't come as swiftly to Checo, however, unable to escape the weight of the challenges that awaited them in the following days. Particularly the impending media storm, the explanations to be crafted, and the delicate task of convincing everyone that the best course for the de-aged Max was to remain in the care of Checo and Christian loomed ahead.

As he watched over the sleeping child, Checo contemplated the complexities of their situation really wishing he could share his worries with his boyfriend who usually was always there to lend an ear and kiss the problems away.

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Translating nicknames sucks, but whatever.
Also if you are wondering why Toto and Christian live in Buckingham, it's a town somewhere between Milton Keynes and Brackley, where the Red Bull and Mercedes factories are respectively.