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charlescoded · 2 years ago

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I'm trying to decide on what I'll be writing next for lestappen, but in the meantime, here are some snippets from stuff that will probably never see the light of ao3:

1.) love potion

“Please tell me you didn’t just drink that.” There’s a desperation in Charles’ voice that he’s has never heard before, and a worried look on his face that sets Max on edge.

“Yeah? I did..?” He shifts uncomfortably, looking at his empty glass.

“Oh my god,” Charles mutters, his hands grabbing hold of Max’s face without warning. He looks him over like he’s trying to find something. It fills Max with a sense of anxiety. “How do you feel— Do you feel anything strange?” He demands.

Max lets out a confused noise. “No? Charles, what the fuck?”

Charles frowns. “Nothing at all?” He presses. “That does not make sense.” His hand comes to rest on Max’s forehead, like he’s checking for a fever.

He grabs hold of Charles’ wrists, taking his hands off his face. “What doesn’t make sense..?”

Charles’ frown deepens, but he doesn’t try to get out of Max’s grip. “The potion… you drank it, there should be an effect…”

“What potion?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Charles… what potion?” He asks alarmed.

“A love potion.” He admits reluctantly.

...

2.) soul manifestation

“Did you see Oscar’s koala trip up Logan?”

Max doesn’t look up from his phone, but he still smiles. “Yeah, so I know it was by accident.”

Lando sighs. “You’re no fun.” He mutters, sagging down next to Max onto the couch. Logan tripping was by far not the only accident that had happened the last few hours. Pierre’s wolf had broken one of the chairs, and Zhou’s rabbit had gotten stuck on a shelf without a way down.

It doesn’t take long for Lando to get bored again, before he asks another question. “Have you seen Charles? I haven’t seen him for like an hour.”

Max purses his lips and doesn’t answer.

There’s a pause before Lando turns his body completely towards Max. “You do know where he is.” He accuses.

“I might, yes.” He shrugs, keeping his eyes on his phone.

“…Max, where are Charles and his mouse?”

He sighs and finally looks up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “They’re asleep.” He says flatly.

“What do you mean ‘asleep’?” Lando asks alarmed.

“Like I said it.”

“Max!”

For a moment, Max debates keeping Lando guessing for a while, before pointing at his own animal: a lion. If anything, Lando looks even more alarmed.

“Please tell me your lion didn’t eat the mouse!”

“What? No, of course not.” Max rolls his eyes. “I told you, they’re both asleep.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

Max snorts. “Exactly that: They’re asleep.”

“But where!?”

He stands up and grabs Lando’s wrist, dragging him to the sleeping lion. Max puts his hand into the lion’s fur and brushes it aside, revealing a small, sleeping mouse.

“Oh!” Lando exclaims before covering his mouth to silence himself. “But what about Charles?” He whispers.

Max bites his lip and points behind the lion.

Lando takes a step closer, before his head snaps back to look at Max, his eyes wide. Why, he mouths. They walk away slightly before Lando repeats the question. “Why is Charles there? Under your lion?”

“Got stuck.”

“…Got stuck?”

“Yeah,” Max shrugs. “His mouse was sleeping already and he tried to grab it. My lion didn’t like his sleep getting disturbed, so he made Charles stop moving.”

Lando’s eyes go even wider. “And you didn’t help him?”

Max gave him an incredulous look. “And get stuck too? Mate, I think that mouse is in on it. No way am I challenging them.”

...

3.) I wish (you didn’t forget me) scene concept for an au where charles, in a moment of anger, makes a wish that comes true, changing reality (but at this point, it got reversed)

“Wait, you remember!?” Charles’ eyes go wide as Max rips his wrist out of his grasp. His jaw sets, tense and obviously upset. Charles is hurt too, that Max didn’t say anything, that he didn’t do anything, but then he remembers why Max left in the first place and he understands. Still, it hurts.

“Yes,” Max says tersely, glancing around them. There’s people looking at them. There’s nothing private about this, but Charles doesn’t care. Max can’t just disappear here, he will have to interact with Charles, he has to. “It would be better if neither of us did.”

That, too, hurts to hear. Charles has to remind him that this is a Max who thinks that Charles doesn’t want him, that he thinks Charles doesn’t want to remember, but he does. He still so desperately wants Max, and seeing him like this, the insecurity, the dismissal of his own feelings, it feels like too much.

“No, it would not be.” He argues, voice hushed. “I want to remember.”

Max’s eyes harden. “Well, you wished for this, so deal with it.”

He turns around and walks away. Shit. Charles scrambles to follow him. Max can’t disappear from his life, he can disappear into some Red Bull building Charles isn’t allowed into. “Wait! Fuck— Max, wait!”

There’s no reply and Charles once again curses to himself.

This is harder than he ever imagined it would be. He knows he can clear this up, but Max doesn’t seem to want to hear it. He hopes that by the time he knows, this will get better. He wishes that it did.

Charles catches up to Max and grabs his shoulder. Max comes to a halt, turns around, and glares at Charles. They’re around the same height, but something in Max’s gaze makes him feel smaller, like he’s being towered over. “What?” He hisses.

“I love you,” He blurts out, because he can, because it’s the truth. Because he isn’t sure what else he can say to make Max stay and listen to him. “I love you, Max, in our memories, but also in this life. I did not stop loving you.”

Max’s throat bobs, but the ice remains in his gaze. “Sometimes… Sometimes, love isn’t enough. You made that clear.”

He flinches, but he knows he deserves every bit of venom Max throws at him. “I didn’t mean it,” He steps forward when Max looks like he wants to protest. Charles presses his hand against Max’s chest, his own gaze pleading. He looks conflicted about pushing Charles away. “I wanted to return with you. We didn’t… We did not belong there, Max, and I knew it was eating at you. Not racing. I wanted to go back and race against you again—“

“Stop.” Max grabs Charles’ wrist, light and gentle, but his voice is made of glass. Sharp, ragged. Broken. “I don’t need to hear how much you wanted to race me again, Charles, I don’t need that right now…”

Charles falters. Does Max not want to race again? No, that makes no sense. Since they returned, Max has been driving like his life depends on finishing first. Charles hasn’t managed to finish a single race in front of Max since they returned a month ago, but the racing has felt the same. There’s no sudden aggression, or pettiness. It’s just fair racing. So this doesn’t make sense, unless…

Unless it’s not Max who doesn’t want to race against him, but exactly what he said. He doesn’t want Charles to want it.

“Let me finish, please.” He whispers. Max’s hand feels warm against his skin, and suddenly, Charles feels terrified that he’ll leave again. That he’s just made this worse, but then Max nods, a dejected look in his eyes. Somehow, that’s worse than his ice. “I wanted you to race again, Max, I wanted the life back where you were happy, and confident, and full of life.” His throat feels tight. “Not racing, it was… it was hurting you so much, and it made things worse between us. So much worse, and that’s why I wished for our old lives back… But, I still wanted you here, too.”

Max’s expression shows his conflict. His grasp on Charles’ hand goes from lax to firm to lax again. They stay silent as the air between them settles. Charles hopes, prays, that this is enough to make him understand, to give him the security he needs.

He just wants his Max back.

The tension disappears from Max’s shoulders, his fingers glide over Charles’ own. He holds his breath, feels the anticipation building, but Max’s smile isn’t happy, it’s sad instead. “What we had there, it’s not going to work here, Charles, even if our feelings haven’t changed.”

Disappointment crashes down on him. Reality feels suffocating all of a sudden, and desperation returns. But, if nothing else, Charles can be incredibly stubborn. “Why not?” He’s ready to disagree, ready to fight Max for this, for them.

“Because we’re both drivers.” Max squeezes his hand, Charles feels it in his heart. “You could come out because you were a champion without me, but you’re not one with me.”

“Why does that matter?” He argues.

“You think I don’t remember how people looked at us there? What they said? It would be worse here, Charles, when you’re not secure with Ferrari.”

Charles bristles. “And what about you? You are secure, you are free, are you not? Do you not love me? Do you not want me?”

Max inhales sharply. “Of course I love you, of course I want you. That’s not—,” He pauses, struggles with his words, before continuing. “I can come out, Red Bull would be fine, but you’re not—“

“Would you take the leap for me?” He rushes out. His determination rises.

“For you? Yes, of course, but you shouldn’t take it for me—“ That’s good enough.

“I decide that.” Charles closes the last distance between them and kisses Max. His hand rests against Max’s jaw, warm and present. Max doesn’t move at first, but Charles feels the moment he relaxes, the moment he realises the decision Charles made. He made the leap. Max returns the favour with another kiss, a smile blooming slow and hesitant, before settling on relieved.

The media can fuck off. Charles can kiss his boyfriend again.

...

4.) things you said after you kissed me (it's a bit toxic, innit)

“Kissing me won’t fix things, Charles,” Max whispers, the brush of his lips light and fleeting. “What we have? It’s not enough.”

“Why not?” It’s a challenge. Charles’ eyes are bright, fire burning hot like a forest fire. And Max wants to burn. “Do you not want me?”

It’s a ridiculous question. Of course Max wants him. He’s always wanted him. But he knows that what he wants, he’ll never have. “We’re not meant to be together. You know this. You’re already with someone else.”

Charles twists his hand into the fabric of Max’s shirt, holding him close. It feels almost possessive, like he can’t let go. Of this. Of them.“ I do not care, I want you.”

It’s not. It’s not right. Max knows this, even as he feels Charles’ lips brush over the stubble of his chin, down to the slope of his neck. It feels divine, his skin alight, Charles’ touch making him crave more. “I can’t share you.” He murmurs. His protests sound weak to his own ears.

Charles knows, too.

Laughter reverberates against his skin. “You can. You will.” The confidence is all-consuming. Max’s bones feel heavy, the weight of them the only thing keeping him from tumbling down to the ground.

“Please stop.” He whispers.

#lestappen #my writing #ellie's trying to convince me to write the 5+1 people think they're together (but they're roommates)#but i sent her like 5 ideas a day so i'm not attached to a specific one (yet)#(baby-vampire!charles my beloved-- pacific rim au my beloved-- oh oh! the one where charles sees the future and changes it for the worse)#all of these came from my dms with ellie btw (and are definitely not spell checked lmao)

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