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charlescoded · 2 years ago

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patience is when you smile at me

Ellie requested a prompt from this list and I happily obliged her!

pairing: lestappen word count: 1.7k rated m for the description of a crash, but there are no permanent injuries. max says fuck. i guess it's hurt/comfort

42. The Big Damn Kiss & 67. Character in Peril

He’s not allowed to go back on the track for the race. Medical didn’t clear him. Bruised ribs, they told him. Bed rest, they said. Well, he’s sitting—‘resting’—, next to a bed, so that’s close enough. After the hospital staff had cleared him, Christian had simply looked at him with understanding, squeezed his shoulder, and told him to go to Charles’ bedside. Max hadn’t argued. This was where he wanted to be, anyway.

Pierre had been there already, paler than usual, still in his racing suit. He’d come straight from the track, just like Max had been. But only for one of them, it had been by choice. But for both of them, it was misery to be there.

The hug Pierre gave him had been warm and comforting, if painful. Moving his arms hurt had hurt, Pierre touching his sides even more so, but it was worth it. Maybe deserved.

If Max hadn’t been there, hadn’t been there just in front of him, Charles wouldn’t be laying in a hospital bed…

He’d kept his mouth shut about it. Pierre didn’t need to know.

They’d both slept in the room, restless and waiting, but come morning, Pierre had to leave. He hadn’t wanted to, but he hadn’t wanted to abandon his team either. Max understood that, the responsibility. But… Charles laying there… That was his responsibility too…

If someone asked him what he would choose, to stay at Charles’ side, or to race, he would hate himself for the answer.

But now that Pierre was gone, Max is left alone, sitting in a sterile room with only his thoughts to keep him company. Except… Except Charles is still there…

Charles looks deadly pale, his skin almost the same sickly shade of white as the sheets. His hair stuck to his face, partly covered by bandaged. It doesn’t look right. Charles should be full of life, he should be out there, racing. They both should be. And fuck.

Max squeezes his eyes shut. He can't stand seeing Charles like this, so still. Unmoving, like he's not breathing. It reminds him of the crash, because by the time Max got to him, Charles was not breathing. His chest hadn’t been moving, his head lolled to the side. At least then, Max could do something, anything, to help him. But now? Now he's just sitting here at his bedside, completely useless.

He takes a few a deep breaths, ignores the flash of pain that comes with the expansion of his ribcage. Once, twice. He calms his heart before he opens his eyes again. Nothing has changed, of course, but he’s still disappointed.

The thing is, Max knows he couldn’t have done anything to prevent Charles from crashing. It had been a brake failure, and if Max hadn’t been there, he would have crashed into the wall anyway. But Max had been there, and when he’d dragged Charles out of the burning wreck of his Ferrari, it had saved his life. He’d been the closest by, had been wearing fireproof clothing, and yet…

If he could take that one second back, that one second, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

He slides his hand over the cloth and gently grasps Charles’ wrist, careful with the tubes. It’s almost a comfort. He can feel Charles’ pulse this way, the steady beat of his heart under Max’s finger tips. It’s a reminder that Charles is alive, that he’s there with Max, that he survived, that Max saved him. It doesn’t matter that he can look up at the monitor to see the numbers. They don’t mean anything to him. The soft thump thump is more soothing than any number could ever be.

Max falls asleep like that, his head cushioned on his arm, his fingers still circling Charles’ wrist. It’s dark when he wakes up again, the race would have finished by this time, and Max wouldn’t care about the results. All he cares about is the fluorescent light illuminating Charles’ eyes.

He’s alert in an instant. He sits up straight, winces as he jostles his ribs, and scoots closer to the bed.

“Hey,” Charles whispers, voice hoarse. He smiles, then. It’s more like a pained grimace, but Max’s heart skips a beat anyway. “You’re hurt as well..?”

Max shakes his head. It doesn’t matter. “I’m not the one laying in a hospital bed…”

“But you are hurt.”

There’s an accusatory tone in his voice. It’s not… It’s not towards Max. He can already see the stubbornness root itself into Charles mind, blaming himself for what happened, for Max getting hurt, more so than himself laying in the hospital. For once, Max wishes he’d blame someone else. Anyone else.

“Not because of you,” He throws back. He can be just as stubborn as Charles. And this time, this time he refuses to let Charles take the blame. And if he even thinks of apologising for what happened, Max will go straight to the media and put all the blame on himself, on Ferrari, and he won’t care if that’s Charles’ team, won’t care that he disagrees, won’t care that… that… and he won’t care that Charles will hate him for it… “It wasn’t your fault, Charles.”

There’s an angry set to Charles’ lips, eyebrows furrowed in a way that shows that he wants to argue, but something stops him. He falters, he hesitates, and Max doesn’t remember the last time this has happened. “You blame yourself.” It’s not a question.

Max doesn’t look away, doesn’t back down, he stares straight into Charles’ eyes. “You didn’t have control over your car, but I did.”

“Do not dare blame yourself,” He hisses. “I had a failure, my car crashed into you, mine, not yours.”

“Ferrari’s car had a failure, their car crashed into me, that wasn’t your fault either, Charles!”

“I could have dodged you! I got hurt because I couldn’t react quickly enough, that is my fault, and you got hurt because of it, also!”

Max grits his teeth together. Why does Charles have to be so infuriating? Why can’t he just accept that sometimes things aren’t in his control? Fuck. Tears sting in the corner of his eyes. He uses back of his hand to wipe them away but it doesn’t help.

“Don’t say it!” He snaps. “You almost died, Charles! It wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t blame yourself. I—I…” He brings his hand back up to his face again, scrubbing over his cheeks angrily. He hates how his voice breaks. “You weren’t breathing, okay? You weren’t… You were dead, for a few minutes, and it was... it was— fuck.”

He snaps his mouth closed. The tears refuse to stop flowing and his throat is getting clogged up. Charles doesn’t argue with him. Max doesn’t want him to.

Charles’ fingers touch the side of his jaw and at first, Max stubbornly refuses to look at him, but his touch gently pulls him closer. He swipes his thumb underneath Max’s eyes, wiping away a tear. “I’m sorry,” He says, and Max is ready to argue again, but Charles quickly continue. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Max I’m not… I am not apologising.” He swallows. “But I am alive, I’m here.”

His lips tremble. “But you weren’t, Charles, I had to give you mouth-to-mouth because the impact had stopped your heart, and I… I thought I’d lost you…”

“Oh.” Charles’ fingers flex against his jaw. His eyes are understanding.

Max lets out a soft laugh, ignores the flare of pain in his chest, and straightens himself. He needs to bend forwards slightly to say in Charles’ range, his ribs protest, but it doesn’t matter because he’s talking again. “I thought I’d lost you,” He repeats. “I thought you were gone and that it was my fault. I hated it, Charles, it hated it so much, because I wished it was me instead. I hated it because I couldn’t lose you.”

“Shush,” Charles shakes his head minutely. “Do not say that,” Where Max excepted venom and fire, there’s softness instead. Like his voice, his touch is still gentle. It helps calm him down. “We are both still here, Max, together.”

He inhales sharply. Together. That sounds right. Both of them are alive. Charles is awake. He’s talking. He’s breathing. That’s all that should matter. For now, he allows it to be.

Max rubs his hand over Charles’ arm. They don’t say anything for a long while. A doctor comes in to talk with Charles and do some tests. Max refuses to leave his side the entire time. By the time the doctor has left, there’s more colour on Charles’ skin than before, not much, but there’s enough of a flush on Charles’ cheeks that he doesn’t look like he’s part of the decor.

“Are you going to stay here?” Charles asks after he’s finished with his dinner.

The question is almost laughable. Where would he go? His hotel room? “Of course,” He shrugs. “If you scoot over, we can make it a sleepover.”

Charles snorts. “Are you trying to take advantage of my fragile state to get in bed with me, Max?”

“Damn, you figured me out already.”

“Yeah? And the mouth-to-mouth was just an excuse to kiss me, right?” He jokes.

Max falters. He doesn’t want to think about that again. More importantly, he never wants to have to do that again. “If that was a kiss, I’d like a refund.” He mutters.

“Okay.”

“What?”

Charles blushes. “You want a refund, so kiss me.”

“You… want me to kiss you?” He asks incredulously.

“I swear, Max, if you make me say it again!”

Max flushes bright red in return. He stands up quickly, almost knocking over his chair, and swipes his hands over his jeans. It doesn’t feel right, like this. To kiss Charles just like that, for a mere joke, but when he goes to lean away again, Charles’ hands come to hold either side of Max’s face. He blinks in surprise, and when he looks at Charles’ face he sees— Oh. There’s a fondness there. Patience. There’s a small smile on his lips, but he’s waiting, waiting for Max. To realise, to get it, to see this for what it truly is.

He relaxes. His own hand touches the side of Charles’ neck, where no bandage is found. Charles’ lips press against his own lightly, and Max finally smiles.

I was wrong, he thinks, this does feel right.

#lestappen #my fic #my writing #i hope you guys like it too!

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what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom · 7 months ago

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I call this one "Double Kill"

[ID. First panel, Nino sits at his and Adrien's table in school, he's angled to face Adrien, his right arm resting on the back of their bench and his left hand on the table. He's saying "I still can't believe I got Rose with "Ligma"..." with his eyes closed. There's a small amount of text next to his head that reads: "It was funny, but I still feel bad..." indicating he's saying it under his breath. Him saying this gets Adrien's attention.

Second panel, Adrien is facing forward at Nino. His face is set in a worried smile as he asks, "What's "Ligma"? Is it serious?".

Third panel, Wide shot of them at their desk, showing Marinette and Alya at their table as well, looking down at them. Adrien keeps an expression of now confused worry as Nino looks at him with an open mouth. Marinette is looking down at Adrien with both hands over her mouth as her shoulders shake with contained laughter. Alya is also covering her mouth, but her joy is less contained as she smiles. The word "SPEECHLESS" is written above them to help get the surprise the three of them feel across.

Fourth panel, a shot of Adrien alone, facing forward and covering his face in embarrassment as the statement, "Just found out what Ligma is" is pointed to him in a looping arrow.

Fifth panel, a wide shot of Ladybug and Chat Noir sitting on the edge of a building together. Chat Noir is sitting criss cross with his hands resting on his thighs, sitting forward a bit to show that he's listening to Ladybug. Ladybug is much more relaxed, leaning back on her right hand and holding her left hand up casually. She's smiling as she recalls: "And then he fell for Ligma! I feel bad, but I kinda wanna see if he'll also fall for "Candace"..."

Sixth panel, Chat Noir is now crossing his arms, raising an eyebrow, squinting his eyes, and tilting his head. His right cat ear tilts as well, while his left one stays straight. The words: "Skeptical but curious" are pointed at him with a straight arrow. He's saying, "And who's "Candace"?"

Seventh panel, Ladybug is looking at Chat Noir with a shocked expression, her eyebrows raised and her jaw dropped. She's sitting straighter, her hand is still resting on the ledge, but it's no longer supporting her. The same "SPEECHLESS" is floating above her as it was seen in the third panel, to show just how shocked she truly is.

Eighth panel, Chat Noir is sitting with his knees up to his chest as he covers his face with his hands in embarrassment. His ears are flattened and his tail is curled around his ankles. The words "Just found out who Candace is" is pointed at him with a straight arrow. End ID]

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