#how many times the turn signal would blink if i just briefly pressed the lever. side mirror positions etc.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (45/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Let's get this party started - part two.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, slight jealousy

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

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A/N: happy two-chapter-week! I miss F1 already and I'm in denial that we have to wait so long. feedback is appreciated!

You have never seen so many buttons in your life. 

Levers, switches, buttons and knobs, all of which certainly have different meanings, but as you stand next to Martin on the stage, you can't imagine what each one of them is for. 

The DJ taps you on the shoulder and takes one earcup of his headphones off his ears before pointing to the DJ booth. “When I give you the sign, press this one, okay?”

You pull the headphones down before looking a little confused from him to the button in question. ”This one?” 

Without hesitation, Martin grabs your hand and guides it to the button you are about to press. Unlike Charles's skin on yours, his feels somehow wrong. You suppress the urge to pull your hand away. 

You gently place your finger on the button and wait for his signal. Through the DJ booth, you feel the vibration of the music in your body, the bass in your bones, and as you look out over the crowd, you see your friends in front of you on the dance floor. Kika smiles at you and holds out her cocktail glass as if to toast with you. 

When you look at Charles, you see that his eyes are fixed on Martin. Without blinking, he looks at him before noticing your gaze and smiling at you briefly and coldly before leaving the group and disappearing towards the bar. Pierre looks up at you briefly before following his buddy. 

“Are you ready?” Martin smiles at you, and when you put your headphones back on, you give him a thumbs up. He counts down the seconds with his fingers before pointing at you, and when you press the button in front of you, the bass drops and the crowd cheers. Hidden cannons shoot confetti into the air, silver and black paper shreds fly through the room and stick to the sweaty bodies of the party guests, while Martin – with your help – gets the party pumped up. 

With pure talent and impressive precision, Martin pushes levers up and down, turns volume controls and boosts the bass so that you can literally feel the music vibrating in your bones. 

And it feels fantastic.

With your headphones on and your cocktail glass in hand, you dance next to him on the podium, enjoying the music and the atmosphere, but when you open your eyes, you can't help but scan the room for Charles. 

There are a lot of people at the bar and you think you see Pierre's head somewhere in between, but when you think you feel Charles's gaze on you and meet his eyes, the feeling disappears again. You stretch and yank, but the only thing you can see are dancing and laughing people having the time of their lives. 

Someone nudges you from the side and when you turn around, Kika and Elena are standing next to you. The Portuguese woman grabs your headphones before putting them on and then sticks her thumb up – even though she's definitely too drunk to notice a difference. 

You lean a little towards Elena. “How much has she had to drink?” you grin, nodding at your best friend, who is now staring at the DJ booth with as much concentration as possible, repeatedly reaching out to press one of the buttons, but Martin keeps slapping her hand lightly to stop her from ruining his gig. 

“Since you came up here – two cocktails and a shot, I think,” Elena replies, looking past you towards Kika. ”I told Pierre to get her a glass of water from the bar. But I don't know if he'll actually do it.”

You purse your lips. “I think Lando would knock the glass of water out of his hand.” Confused, you look around. “Where is he, anyway?”

Elena shrugs. “He wanted to make a quick phone call or something. He just got a call and immediately disappeared outside. He even left his glass behind,” she explains and puts Lando's drink down next to Martin's desk before taking a pull on her own straw, earning a dirty look from the DJ. Apparently, he's afraid that Lando's glass will tip over and break his expensive equipment. “Apparently, it was very important. Anyway, he jumped up as if he'd been stung by a tarantula.”

You try to hide your curiosity, but the alcohol in your blood thwarts your plans. “Do you know who called?” you ask her loudly enough for her but not for anyone else to hear. 

“I just glanced at the screen when it was on the table and then it lit up,” she replies, taking another sip of her drink. ”I think it was one of his Formula 1 buddies. But I couldn't see it clearly.”

You are about to say something when Kika throws her arms around your neck and almost spills her cocktail on your beautiful dress. One of her arms is around your shoulders and pulls you so close to her that you can feel her warm breath on your skin. You gently kiss her on the temple. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

The young woman nods and grins at you. “Are you having fun?” she asks, leaning against you so that you have to support her. 

“I am,” you reply and reach for her glass to take it from her. You take a sip of her cocktail. ‘Do you want some water?’ you ask her, but Kika shakes her head vehemently. You have to laugh. ”Water isn't poisonous. And I don't think a glass would hurt you.”

“Boooooooo,” Kika utters, trying to take her glass back, but you successfully keep it out of her reach. ”All right. One glass of water. But only because otherwise I'll get in trouble with Pierre tomorrow when I complain about a heavy hangover.”

You nod and lovingly hand her over to Elena, who smiles at you. “I'll take care of her. She won't destroy Martin's setup.‘ She glances at the DJ before turning back to you. "I think he'd kill us all if we poured Piña Colada over his mixer.”

You glance past her. Martin seems completely absorbed and focused on his music. When he glances in your direction, he smiles at you and points to his desk, as if to ask you to join him again. But you shake your head slightly and raise your hand to your mouth, thumb and pinkie extended. Then you leave the podium. 

Although the club is not too big and the distance from your friends to the bar is not too far, you feel like the few steps are taking forever. With your shoulders hunched, you push through the crowd, squeezing between sweaty, dancing people, until the crowd thins out and you can take a deep breath. You quickly run your fingers through your hair, which is stuck to the back of your neck, and then approach the bar. 

“Four glasses of water, please,” you order from the attractive bartender, drumming your fingers on the marble slab in front of you until someone leans against your left side.

“I hope one of the glasses is for Kika,” Pierre smiles at you and takes two of the glasses from the bartender. ”Sometimes she forgets that she's human and will have a bad hangover if she doesn't drink water from time to time.”

You nod gratefully at the woman behind the bar and reach for the water too. “Then it's a good thing that two of the glasses are for your girlfriend then,” you reply. You look around. “Where is Charles? I thought you went to the bar together.”

The Frenchman nods. “We did. After we both had two shots, he wanted to go out for a bit of fresh air. Take a deep breath and all that,” he explains. As you are about to take a step forward, he raises his arm to gently hold you back. 

You look at him, confused. “Are you okay?”

“He likes you,” Pierre says. When you look at him confused, he smiles at you and gently puts an arm around your shoulders, careful not to spill the water on your dress. "I've never seen Charles so happy. And never so... open?" He leans his head against yours briefly.

A little unsure, you smile at him. “What exactly do you mean?”

Pierre purses his lips. 'With Annika, he was so stiff and somehow the relationship never seemed real, although I think he really liked her. And from the outside, everything always seemed perfect. They always had perfect photos for Instagram, totally staged, and if you knew Charles personally, you knew that something was wrong. And in the end, it was.”

While the two of you make your way back through the crowd to your friends, you can't help but continue to investigate. “How – well – did you like her? Annika, I mean?”

Pierre pushes you past two girls who are jumping up and down wildly. ”I guess you mean before she cheated on Charles?”

“Um – yes.”

Kika's boyfriend shakes his head. “I just had a bad feeling about her. Until they broke up, nothing ever happened that would have justified that lousy feeling. She was always friendly and easy to talk to. But – well. It seems my feeling wasn't wrong.”

You smile at him. “Apparently you have a good sense of people. Charles is lucky to have someone like you by his side.”

“That's for sure,“ he grins. ”But I think he still likes you best by his side. Anyway, you can see how happy he is since you've been with him. And he's genuinely happy. Not that fake, put-on happiness.” He lets you go ahead as you both climb the stairs to the platform. 

Once at the top, you wait for him. ”Do you think so?”

“Anyone who sees it differently is either stupid or blind. The whole time we were getting the pizza and he was looking for a dress for you, he couldn't stop talking about you. If I didn't like you both so much, I would have told him to shut up,” Pierre laughs. 

“Who should shut up?” Kika and Elena join you. The Portuguese woman leans with her whole body against her boyfriend, who holds the water glass to her lips so that she can drink from it. She empties it within seconds.

“Nobody should shut up,” you reply and take a sip of water as well, passing one to Elena, who accepts it with a smile. 

Pierre rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. "I just told her that Charles can't stop talking about her and that it would be annoying if the two weren't our friends,’ he explains, kissing his girlfriend on the temple. 

“That's not annoying,” Kika grins before looking at you. However, her words are directed at Pierre. ‘If only they would talk to each other as much as they talk to us about each other, then we wouldn't be the only couple in this group of friends.”

With wide-open eyes, you stare at her in outrage. ’Kika!”

“I'm sorry!” she apologizes, but she definitely doesn't mean it. She breaks away from the Frenchman and gives you a big hug. ‘I just want what's best for you. And I'm sure that Charles is what's best for you. And if you need time to find each other, then that's that,’ she smiles at you and kisses you on the cheek. “And when the time comes, I'll pop the champagne corks and be the flower girl at your wedding.”

You laugh and throw your head back. Even if you tried, you could never stay mad at Kika for long. “Flower girl? I thought you'd be my maid of honor, no?”

She grins at you like a little kid who has just been given permission to raid a candy store. “That's even better!” She throws herself completely into your arms, almost making you drop your water glass. “I'll be the best maid of honor ever! This is going to be so cool!”

“Cherié, I think you're forgetting that she's not even engaged yet, let alone in a committed relationship,” Pierre reminds the pretty Portuguese woman. "It's going to be a while before she actually gets married.”

She turns her head to her boyfriend with a nasty look. ’And even if it takes a thousand years – I'll. be. the. maid. of. honor.”

You look at her pursing your lips. “I hope it doesn't actually take a thousand years for me to get married.”

“Should I tell Charles to hurry up with the proposal?” Pierre grins, and you give him the middle finger, grinning. 

“What should I hurry with?” As you turn around, Charles is standing in front of you. In his hands, he is holding a tray with a few shot glasses filled with red or green liquid. All heads turn to him, but no one says anything. The Monegasque raises his eyebrows. "What should I hurry with?", he repeats, visibly confused. 

“With the drinks!” Elena breaks the silence of the group and walks smiling to him to free him from the tray. Without spilling a single glass, she takes it out of his hand and walks around it so that everyone can take one. When she stops in front of Kika and you, she grins and pushes her water glass into your best friend's hand. ”This drink is especially for you.”

Kika sniffs at the glass with shining eyes. “What is it?”

“Skinny Bitch. Vodka with soda,” explains Elena, holding out the tray so you can take a shot glass of it. She leans forward a little towards you and out of the corner of your eye you can see Kika looking suspiciously at the drink in her hand. “Just without the vodka.”

Martin, who was just standing at the DJ booth, rejoins you and stands next to you, one arm around your shoulders, and grabs one of the small glasses as well. You don't need to look in Charles' direction to know that his gaze darkens a shade. “Have any of you seen Lando? He was about to go to the DJ booth too.”

“I'm here!” The young guy from Britain is jogging up the steps to the podium and stops next to Charles. His cheeks are red and the shirt, which was just tucked into his trousers, is now hanging off his shoulders with another two buttons undone. ‘Have I missed something?’ He looks briefly from Charles to you and Martin before running his hand through his curly hair. “All right, party poopers.” He also takes a glass from Elena's tray. ”Let's get this party started!”

After the group has downed their shots – and Kika, her not-so-skinny-bitch – Martin pulls you back to the DJ booth with Lando in tow. You glance over your shoulder and see your roommate clenching his jaw as Pierre grabs him by the shoulder and starts a conversation with him. 

“Are you okay?” Lando asks you as you take your seats next to Martin. He grabs the abandoned headphones and hands one to you. 

You put it on your head. “Um – yes, I think so.” You suppress the urge to turn back to the rest of your group of friends. “Where were you?” you counter with a question of your own to change the subject. 

Your friend can't suppress the smile that creeps across his face. “I was just on the phone,” he replies, avoiding eye contact with you, but the tips of his ears turn red – and it's definitely not because of the alcohol or the warmth in the club. 

You bite your lip. “On the phone? With whom?”

“Not important.” He takes a deep breath before looking at you. "And what about you? Have you danced with Charles yet?" You open your mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. The Brit has to laugh. “The man buys you a beautiful dress in which you look incredibly stunning, and he puts on a complementary shirt so that you both show up here in matching outfits – yes, I noticed – and then you don't dance with each other? Do I have to force you to do that or –”

“I can't dance with him if I'm constantly being pulled away by my friends to either get drinks at the bar or to press buttons that I don't even know what they do.” You raise an eyebrow and nod in the direction of Martin, who is absorbed in the music again. 

“Shall I show you which button does what?“ your buddy asks you, but you shake your head. 

“I'm fine. I think I'm more of a listener than a composer,” you smile, leaning against Lando as he puts his arm around your shoulder. 

“You seem to be pushing Charles' buttons, that's for sure. He keeps staring at you like he wants to either eat you up right away or take you home.” His eyes flicker past your face towards Charles, but somehow you don't dare to follow his gaze. 

“Lando...”

“You know I'm right. Even if you're afraid of it,” he smiles at you and nudges you in the side. ‘Why are you hesitating? It's obvious that you both want each other.”

You shrug your shoulders and look at your shoes. ’He's my best friend. And I don't want to lose him.”

“Do you really think you would lose him if you told him how you feel?”

“To be honest – I don't want to risk it,” you admit. ”He's the most important person in my life. And if friendship – or whatever it is between us – is all I get from him, then that's it. I've already come to terms with that.”

He purses his lips. “That's the saddest thing I've ever heard.” He leans his head against yours, but pulls it away immediately when Charles joins you. “Speak of the devil,” he says just for you to hear, and steps closer to Martin to give you some privacy. 

Charles stands next to you and puts his arm around your waist. His cheeks are red and warm and a few brown strands of hair are stuck to his forehead. Beautiful. “Hi.”

You smile at him. ”Hi back.”

“Are you okay? I feel like I've barely seen you since we entered the club.” He gently pulls you closer so you can rest your head on his shoulder. ”I missed you.”

His words make your heart beat faster. “I'm sorry about that,” you reply. “I was just dragged along and had to play DJ even though I have no idea how to.”

Your roommate smiles at you. “We haven't even danced together.” His other hand also rests on your hip, positioning himself behind you. His chin rests on your shoulder and you feel his breath on your skin. “You're only here with Martin all the time.”

You giggle slightly as his beard brushes your neck. ”Are you jealous?” 

He presses a fleeting kiss on the hollow between your neck and shoulder. “Me, jealous? Never.”

Just as you want to remind him that he was recently jealous of the friendship between you and Lando and even admitted it under purple skies, Lando waves you both over to him. Hesitantly, you separate from each other and join them, but like magnets you find each other again; Charles' chest against your back and his hand on your hip. 

“Do you have a song request?” Lando asks, pointing to the mixing desk. ‘Martin's letting me use it and I thought I might be able to do you both a favor,’ he grins, and when his eyes flicker over to you, you would like to pour Kika's not-so-skinny-bitch into his face. 

You're about to shake your head when Charles breaks away from you to express his wish to Lando. His hand remains on your hip as Martin makes room for Lando and moves to your other side. 

He smiles at you and then points from you to Charles. “You two seem to get along very well.” You nod in agreement. “But you're not together.”

You shake your head. “Like Charles already said – we are best friends,” you repeat the words of the Monegasque, who suddenly turns his head jerkily in your direction. 

The warm smile has suddenly vanished from his face and he looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, which you can't place. His hand on your hip tightens a little. 

“Well, I wanted to ask you if you...“ the DJ begins his sentence, but before he can finish it, Charles pulls you back to him. 

“I think we're going home now,” your roommate announces and says goodbye to his friends without further ado. However, he doesn't give a reasonable reason. 

Lando looks at you both with confusion, but his expression quickly changes to a grin when he realizes why Charles wants to go home. “Have a safe trip home.” He puts on his headphones and changes the song to Charles' request. 

Your roommate pulls you towards the exit so quickly that you just barely have time to wish Kika, Pierre and Elena a pleasant evening – thanks to the water, Kika is on her way to a headache-free morning – before Charles grabs you and pushes you forward like a man possessed. 

“Charles, what?”

“Best friend,” he repeats your words with a murmur. ”I'll show you what a best friend I can be.”

It's only when you reach the exit that you notice that Talking Body by Tove Lo is playing.