Once out of the call, Max was left with a whiplash sensation as he sat on the couch, still trying to gather the reasons as to why he would have suggested for them to meet again.
"Want some wine?" Kelly, inquired, gliding towards the younger man with an elegant glass of red wine cradled in her hands. Shaking his head, the man declined the offer, a subtle shift in mood not escaping Kelly's observant gaze. They had shared their lives for the past two years, and she was quick to detect the nuances in his demeanor.
"What's up, don't like the party?" she asked, taking a seat by his side.
"No, It's fine." he shrugged, not really meeting her gaze, afraid that somehow she would be able to read the truth through his eyes.
"I'm a bit tired, I might go home." Max confessed, a half lie that sounded so true not even his own father would be able to tell it apart from one.
"Max, you never see your friends, and we barely go out like this." his girlfriend began to debate his stay. "You should try making a little effort, try to have some fun..." she said, nearing closer to him.
Suddenly, and fortunately for Max, their conversation was interrupted by one of his intoxicated friends stumbling over with his even more inebriated brother in tow. "Max, do you mind taking Josh home? I think he drank way too much, and he's about to vomit on this yacht."
Seizing the unexpected diversion as a godsend, Max didn't hesitate for a moment. "Sure, no worries," he responded, sensing a way out of the impending conversation with his girlfriend.
"Thanks, Max, you're the best," his friend expressed gratitude, passing his brother over to Max so he could assist him in walking off the dock. Max's swift acceptance of the responsibility, however, seemed to cast a shadow over his girlfriend's features, her facial expressions darkening with discontent.
As Max helped Josh navigate the unsteady path off the dock, he couldn't shake the feeling of relief that washed over him. The distraction from the impending conversation with Kelly was a welcome reprieve, and he focused on ensuring Josh's safe exit from the yacht.
Meanwhile, Kelly observed the scene with a subtle furrow in her brow, her discontent simmering just beneath the surface. The abrupt change in Max's plans hadn't gone unnoticed, and a sense of tension lingered in the air.
"Don't ruin my yacht," Max called back to his friend, attempting to keep the situation light-hearted despite the underlying tension.
His friend chuckled, offering a half-hearted salute. "You got it, Max. Thanks, man!"
Without offering a proper farewell to his girlfriend, Max swiftly departed, a seemingly legitimate reason tucked away in his back pocket. Once he ensured Josh was safely delivered home, Max wasted no time tracing the path to Charles's residence.
Navigating the streets with a quiet resolve, Max aimed to draw minimal attention to himself. He moved discreetly, keeping his presence inconspicuous until he found himself in proximity to the Ferrari driver's home. The anticipation of the impending conversation with Charles heightened, and Max hoped this unexpected visit wouldn't complicate an already complex situation.
The Red Bull driver would have no trouble getting past the lobby, and as fate would have it, the moment he stepped foot into the area, his eyes met the green ones, leaving him like a deer in the headlights. He shook it off and walked toward him, not wanting to draw any attention to themselves.
There was so much that threatened to leave their mouths but with a quick greeting and quicker escape to privacy, Charles led them up to his apartment. Unable to make conversation on their way up, only focusing on how close they were and how much he'd replayed their encounter throughout the past couple days, it was impossible to workout the nerve to say anything for a while.
It wasn't until they were behind closed doors that Charles let himself linger on Max's face, attempting to read him but instead feeling his heart skip a beat as he remembered the way the man's mouth had felt pressed on his own and the warmth that had traveled throughout his body from every bit of contact they'd made that night.
"How was the party?" Charles let his words out dumbly, his mouth acting on its own accord which then resulted in a blush. "Sorry, that was blunt. Welcome in, can I offer you anything?" he asked, avoiding his gaze now and pointing towards the kitchen, "coffee? tea, maybe?" he continued, soft spoken but trying to not let it show how affected he was by his presence but failing miserably- unable to keep his cool in the way he knew Max could.
With all formalities aside, coming to the conclusion that they were alone in that home, Max scratched his chin as he watched the man pace around the kitchen. If there was one thing Max knew about Charles was how outwardly obvious he was about his feelings, and there he could clearly notice how nervous he seemed to be.
"Coffee, sure," Max responded casually, leaning against the entrance frame that led into the kitchen. Crossing his arms, he decided to confront the elephant in the room head-on. "Did you tell anyone?" The tone of his voice left no room for ambiguity, making it clear the weight behind the question.
Charles momentarily halted in his tracks, taken aback by the direct mention of their recent encounter. Gathering himself, he shook his head and proceeded into the kitchen, taking on the task of preparing coffee for both of them. Once the brewing process was underway, he turned to face Max, maintaining a careful distance that allowed him some space to collect his thoughts.
With a measured tone, Charles reassured the blond, "Nobody knows." He attempted to keep his expression neutral, though his racing heart betrayed a layer of anxiety. The uncertainty of what lay ahead gnawed at him, a fear that Max might reiterate the impossibility of a repeat occurrence and impose silence on the matter.
"I understand you might be concerned," Charles continued, still keeping a safe distance. "But it won't get out, at least not from my end." He punctuated his words with a nervous scratch at the back of his neck, a telltale sign of his inner tension.
"Do you need cream or sugar?" Charles's voice was subdued, a tangible effort to maintain normalcy as he busied himself with the coffee-making process. Pouring the coffee into the mugs, he brought the add-ons to the kitchen island, avoiding direct eye contact with Max to shield himself from the intensity he knew lay in the other driver's gaze.
"Cream," Max responded promptly, seemingly unfazed by the situation.
"Aren't you worried I might tell someone?" the Red Bull driver teased him, with no true meaning to his words, "you didn't make any questions."
At the teasing, Charles felt more at ease and it caused the corners of his mouth to turn up into a small smile, a familiarity being brought back into their dynamic that he was afraid would have been ruined because of that night. The two of them had their fair share of hiccups during their karting days but as of recently, Max had truly become one of his favorite people on the grid- even looking forward to the times after a good race where they both debrief the events prior. That wasn't a friendship that the man was okay with losing, especially with Max currently being the face of the sport, every race going to him; it would have been impossible to ignore him.
"I wasn't worried about you telling anyone," he confirmed, handing the creamer over to Max, his hand lingering on it a little longer than needed, "you're the one with three championships, you'd have much more to lose than I do," he said trying to also make light of the situation and while the statement had been made jokingly, Charles knew there was truth to it.
Charles, brimming with a vulnerability that his expressive face couldn't hide, looked up at Max with a question that cut straight to the core. "Should I be worried that you'll tell someone?"
The intensity of Max's blue eyes bore into Charles, and in that moment, the realization of a mistake flickered across Charles's features. Max, with his ability to maintain composure, now had a front-row seat to Charles's emotional transparency. The telltale blush coloring Charles's cheeks laid bare an undeniable truth – the attraction he felt towards Max wasn't a fleeting emotion.
Grabbing his coffee, the Dutch driver began pouring a bit of the cream over it, chuckling at the brunette's question. "I already have mine; you don't have yours yet. I'd argue you have more to lose than me," he reminded him, taking a sip of the warm coffee, which was quick to warm his sore throat from all the alcohol wear earlier that same day.
"You know I wouldn't tell anyone," he replied, leaving the corner of the kitchen door to walk into the room, inspecting the perfectly clean countertops. "This is not the first time I've done this, and no one found out about it," he confessed, avoiding crossing the boy's eye gaze when he dropped the risky information.
"Oh," was all that Charles could say at the surprising new bit of information, surprised that Max had a history of this and that truly no one would have ever guessed it. The brunette had found Max attractive on multiple occasions, but there had never been even the tiniest hope that it would lead to anything—firmly believing the Red Bull driver was straight and had never had a thought regarding another man in that sense.
"Do you do this often then?" he asked, his voice trying to sound indifferent but it was clear as day that the answer was important to him, his curiosity too big now.
When the sugar had completely dissolved, his eyes landed back on Max and he was ready to push his own personal attraction to him down in favor of knowing more. "Are you here to make me sign an NDA?" He asked his childhood rival, not knowing what to expect from this conversation at any point.
Max smiled at the question made by the fellow Formula One driver, seeming to be truly amused by the conversation, much like he did whenever they had their debriefing sessions after races.
"No," he chuckled mid-sentence. "It was only once, when I first got to Formula One and had my first win. All the hormones of puberty along with partying and drinking, I guess," he shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. "It took the perfect mix of situations for it to happen, really... curiosity, alcohol, ego, being left completely alone in a hotel room," he explained, setting the now empty mug onto the counter. The admission hung in the air, revealing a vulnerability that Max seldom shared.
He delved deeper into the narrative, offering a glimpse into his own experiences. "I was just 18, it was some random guy. After he tried to contact me again I thought he was going to out me, so I told Christian," Max confessed, laying bare a part of his past that strayed far from the racetrack conversations they were accustomed to.
"He took care of it, gave the guy some good money and made him sign a contract. So I suppose those two are the only ones who know about me swinging both ways." he said, looking down at his empty mug. "Well, and now you, I suppose."
"Tell Christian I don't want any trouble," Charles teased, coming back to his usual self as if moments ago he hadn't been ready to attack the blond with questions about his past.
"I didn't plan on ever acting out on my own attraction," Charles admitted, leveling the field. "I figured it out at about thirteen, but because of karting it became easy to ignore it. You know more than anyone how much time goes into it and with you as direct competition it was easy to excuse the lack of interest in girls. I had to be better if I ever wanted to have a real chance at Formula one. But then when I got my first girlfriend is when it really became obvious to me. I liked her presence but there wasn't anything in me that wanted more," it was an odd thing to admit to the other driver but they were past the point of formalities. He kept it as vague as possible not because he didn't want to share more but simply because he had never said any of it out loud and it put him in unfamiliar territory.
Charles, reflecting on the night they shared, felt a need to shed light on his own role in the unfolding events. "That night, I really did have too much to drink, more than ever maybe," he began, attempting to justify the actions that had transpired. Pausing to gather himself, he prepared to articulate the aspect of the confession that felt the most daunting to say out loud. "I was fully aware that I wanted it, though," he confessed, his voice softening but maintaining a composed demeanor. In acknowledging his desires, Charles treaded carefully, mindful of the boundaries that needed to be respected in this conversation.
The last words of the Monégasque seemed to bring the blond to shock. As simple as those words were, they meant that even sober he did not regret anything that happened. It was a feeling that matched the world champion's own sentiment, one that he had tried to deny for the past week but had failed so miserably that it led him to this very exact situation.
"Cristian made me promise back then..." Max paused, the words sounding more like an internal reflection than a confession to Charles. It was as if he was reminding himself of a commitment made in the past. "That I wouldn't do it again," he concluded the sentence, leaving it hanging in the air. The comment might have seemed somewhat out of context, but upon closer inspection, it hinted at a layer beneath the surface—an acknowledgment that, despite the promise, the desire to continue what they didn't finish.
Max took a deep breath, a visible tension forming in his clenched jaw. Despite the calm exterior, a whirlwind of thoughts raced through his mind. "But I suppose I already broke that promise," he confessed, finally locking eyes with Charles.
Approaching him like a cat, Max closed the distance between them. The sobriety that now enveloped the room introduced a subtle barrier of hesitation, slowing the blond's steps towards the brunette. "And I'm pretty sure this wouldn't get out of here," Max asserted, cornering Charles against one of the countertops.
Charles's green eyes traced Max's movements with meticulous attention as the Dutch driver closed the distance. However, with Max now blocking his way out, the intensity became overwhelming, prompting Charles to lower his gaze from Max's face to his chest.
Feeling a bit disoriented, Charles struggled to regain his composure. Max's words echoed with promise, and there was a subtle acknowledgment of the mutual desire between them. "It wouldn't," Charles whispered. The realization that he had been shamelessly ogling Max prompted him to lift his gaze once more, meeting the piercing blue eyes.
"I won't tell anyone," Charles assured, his honesty laid bare, and the desire to continue what they had started hung thick in the air. The absence of alcohol left Charles feeling exposed, yet the proximity of Max and the shared understanding offered a different kind of comfort.
"Max," he whispered, the closeness eliminating the need to raise his voice. "If only the two of us who know, does it change whether or not we try again?" Charles's question hung in the air, the heat creeping up his neck.
Max closed the final inches of the gap, stepping into the intimate space between Charles's legs. Their proximity accentuated the subtle height difference of a mere couple of centimeters, noticeable only when facing each other directly. At this close range, the heightened breaths of the two drivers were palpable, the sound intertwining with the growing flush on Charles's face.
"Why?" Max whispered back, trapping the brunette within the range of his body as he placed both of his hands on either side of the counter beside him, "do you want to try again?"
Charles scanned Max's face, searching for any signs that his offer could be a mere joke, but as the brunette squirmed in place and made contact with the man's leg there was no denying he wanted something else in its place.
"Yes," he said with a sudden confidence.
His hand reached out for Max and he tangled it in the collar of his shirt, hesitating before stepping in closer, bringing them chest to chest. Charles brushed his lips against the strong jawline, hovering for a little in case the man wanted out but when he didn't move, the brunette brought his mouth closer to his ear, whispering to him despite being alone. "I didn't get to finish last time," his voice had a whine to it that he would never purposely let anyone else hear but his desire was too strong of a driving force.