#for those wondering it's going to be the five times max and charles accidentally fall asleep together

[nyoomfruits]

Hei! Could you do prompt 25 of the sharing a bed list? Thank you

pairing: max verstappen/charles leclerc word count: 1,5k a/n: hi!!! i'm sorry this took me so long, but i was planning this out and it just kept getting longer and longer and uuuuh, now i have a full 5+1 fic planned for this prompt so whoops?

anyway, this is the first part, because i didn't want to keep you waiting any longer, but the rest will be up hopefully somewhere at the end of the week! prompt: “We should do this more often.” “No fucking way, once is enough.” (They do it often after that.)

1.

Max’s vision is swimming a little as he makes his way through Daniel’s living room, trying not to fall over as people keep bumping into him. Someone spills their drink on his pants, but he doesn’t stop to hear their apologies, simply keeps going, desperate for some air.

He finds it in the upstairs bedroom, leaning against the sink and taking a few deep, steading breaths. There’s noises coming from downstairs, the laughter of party guests and the cheery notes of some kind of ABBA song, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating anymore.

Max leans over the sink and splashes some water in his face, just as the door to the bathroom swings open, the noises from downstairs becoming louder again.

“Maxy! Are you okay? I saw you wander upstairs, you seemed a little shaky.” It’s Daniel himself, leaning on the doorframe holding a beer bottle loosely in one hand.

“I’m fine,” Max says, turning to face Daniel, leaning against the sink again. “Few of those shots from earlier just aren’t sitting well with me.” It’s seems easier to explain than sometimes the weight of the world just crashes onto me and I feel like I can’t breathe.

Daniel nods sympathetically. “You want to lie down for a bit? I have a million guest rooms that hardly ever get used. You can just pick one. You can sleep over too, if you want.”

Max thinks about it for a second, the choice between dragging himself home now while feeling like shit and the possibility of crawling into a nice cozy bed and sleep off that heavy feeling in his chest first. It’s really not that hard of a choice. “Yeah, thanks mate. Appreciate it.”

Daniel nods, raises his beer at Max in lieu of a cheers, and then disappears down the stairs to rejoin his party with a “let me know if you need anything!” thrown over his shoulder.

Max mumbles a ‘thanks’ that Daniel definitely doesn’t hear, and then turns back to the sink, pulling a face when he catches his own reflection in the mirror. He looks like absolute shit. At least he’s stopped feeling like the ground is going to give way and swallow him whole. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair – a gesture that makes him look even more disheveled – and heads out of the bathroom to the nearest guest room.

He closes the door behind him, but doesn’t turn on the light, simply letting his eyes get used to the comfort of the dark. He pulls off his sweater, and his pants, and goes to crawl into bed when-

“What the fuck,” voices a lump on the bed, scaring Max so badly he flies back and nearly falls on the floor, only just managing to catch himself. He scrambles over to the light switch, turning it on and squinting in the bright light as the scene in front of him slowly becomes clearer.

Charles is sprawled on the bed, looking disgruntled and sleepy and very, very annoyed. “What are you doing here?” He asks, leaning up on his elbows and frowning at Max.

“What are you doing here?” Max counters, defensively, wrapping his arms across his chest, feeling weirdly vulnerable in just a t-shirt and his boxers.

Charles sends him an incredulous look. “Sleeping, obviously.”

“Well, then guess what I was going to do,” Max says, a little snarky. Charles has clearly been sleeping for a while, judging by the way his eyes are small an puffy and his hair is sticking in every which direction. Max desperately ignores the voice in his head telling him it’s kind of cute.

“Then literally pick any other bedroom. And maybe turn on the lights first, before you scare the shit out of other unsuspecting sleepers.” Charles bites back, before flopping back down on the bed and resolutely closing his eyes.

“Fine,” Max says, pulling his jeans back on.

“Fine,” Charles says, because of course he has to have the last word.

Max flips him off, even though he full well knows Charles can’t see it, and trudges back out of the bedroom, turning the light of as he goes. Fucking asshole, he thinks, as he opens the door of the next guest bedroom.

--

Ten minutes later, Max is back in the guestroom occupied by Charles. “Why,” Charles says, once again squinting into the harsh bedroom light.

“Everywhere else is taken,” Max says, once again removing his pants. “Scoot over, we can share.” He turns the lights back off as he goes.

“What? No,” Charles says, but Max is already crawling into bed and Charles has to scoot over to avoid Max from sprawling all over him. “You’re the worst,” Charles informs him, and Max just hums.

“Trust me, this isn’t my ideal scenario either,” Max mumbles. “But I need to fucking sleep or I’m going to scream.”

Charles turns to him and Max can just make out his face in the dark, an unreadable expression on his face. He must see something, must understand, because he eventually sighs and says, “If you cuddle me I’m physically kicking you out.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Max says, smiling slightly.

“God, Ricciardo’s party must be boring as shit if everyone’s fucking sleeping,” Charles says, turning so he’s lying on his back again.

“Oh, yeah, no, no one else was sleeping,” Max says, wriggling around to try and get more comfortable.

Charles frowns. “But you said all the other roo- oh,” Charles says, realization suddenly dawning on them. “Oh my god.”

“Yup,” Max says, “And I walked in. On all of them.”

Charles laughs loudly. “Oh god, they must all hate you so much,” he turns his face towards Max, expression full of glee. “Anyone we know?”

“Didn’t really stay around to check,” Max says, “Was traumatizing enough as it was.”

“Fair,” Charles says, before another silence falls over them.

“Why are you in here, then?” Max eventually asks.

Charles sighs. “Something similar to you, I think. Sometimes everything just becomes so much and the idea of having to go home just seems like a ridiculously momentous task, you know what I mean? I don’t know, Daniel offered, so I was like why not, maybe I’ll feel better after a nap.”

It surprises Max, always, how similar him and Charles are sometimes. Both feeling like they carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Red Bull’s Golden Boy and Il Predestinato, two sides of the same coin. He doesn’t voice this, however, feels too heavy in the almost intimate quiet of Daniel guest bedroom. Instead, Max smiles, a little cheekily, and asks. “So how’s that going for you?”

“I don’t know,” Charles says, eyes sparkling with the same mirth. “Haven’t really gotten the chance to actually nap, have I?”

Max snorts. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I will no longer keep you from your precious sleep.”

“Thank you,” Charles says, and then, after a beat, “Night, Max.”

“Goodnight, Charles.”

--

When Max eventually wakes up, the sun is already high in the sky and he’s feeling incredibly well rested. He sits up and stretches. Next to him, Charles groans and buries his face into his pillow. “Time is it?” He mumbles, almost inaudible due to the fabric currently covering his face.

Max grabs his phone of the night stand. “Eleven,” he says, thumbing at his missed messages for a few seconds before turning off his phone and getting up to retrieve his pants.

Charles makes an unhappy sounding noise. “Fuck me, I have a meeting in like an hour,” he says, finally picking his head up from the pillow.

“Well, then you better get up,” Max says, and Charles groans and flops back onto the pillow. Max has successfully retrieved and pulled on his pants at this point, and is standing at the door, a little uncertain. “Thanks,”  he eventually says. “For letting me crash.”

“Yeah, yeah, we should definitely do this again sometimes,”  Charles says sarcastically, seeming to finally have woken up enough to actually get out of bed.

“No fucking way, once is enough,” Max says, because it sounds a lot better than ‘this is the best I’ve slept in ages and I think it might’ve been because you were next to me’. “Besides. You snore.”

Charles gasps and looks at Max. “I do not.”

He doesn’t. But the complete outrage on Charles’s face is too good to tell him the truth. “Oh, yeah, like a goddamn sawmill. Thought you were going to wake up the whole house.” Max says, and then laughs when Charles lets out an indignant squawk and launches a pillow at his face.

Max ducks, pulling open the door of the guest room in the process and almost running out, laughing all the way. “Bye Charles!” He yells.

“Fuck you, Max!” Charles hollers back. Max chuckles to himself all the way down the stairs.

--

(Daniel is in the kitchen when Max comes downstairs, holding a bowl of cereal and raising his eyebrow when he spots Max. “Good morning Maxy. Slept well?” It’s an innocent enough question, but from the twinkle in his eyes Max can tell Daniel knows exactly who else was in the bed with him.

“Fuck you,” he says, eloquently, and throws an apple from the fruit bowl and Daniel’s head. Daniel just laughs loudly as Max retrieves his car keys and makes his way out of the house as fast as he can.)