#wanted to finish it before this weekends gp but working fulltime is

[oranjeleeuw]

So with much-much honor and excitement, I take the opportunity given by @wanderingblindly to share one of my WIPs!! <3

Thank you dear

My condolences

this is a comfort fic after the Dutch GP last weekend

premise so far:

Lestappen one shot, hurt/comfort, more so comfort, will become sweeter in the end

Charles DNF in Zandvoort, Max is catching up with him right after the winner ceremony

Definitely more than friends (were we ever friends?), less than boyfriends relationship status

Max praises the skills of Charles and goes on about how he's wasting his talent at Ferrari

Charles ends up crying/having a breakdown bc what if it's not the car but him who's not performing any better

Max offers to take him down to the beach for a walk to clear his head

They walk, look at the sea, enjoy the wind

It's peaceful, it is helping

They kiss and kiss

Charles wishes he could treat everything as easy as it is with Max, even though nothing is easy with Max

But these corresponding things are what stick them to each other so it's fine

here's the beginning of it so far

Charles felt like shit. Not even a failure, more like a lost cause. But what to mourn when the mistakes weren't his own, it's just the weather, yeah, like the rest of the grid didn't attend the same race as him. Ridiculous. It was the car, it was the car sure of it, yet Carlos finished with wonderful numbers and he fought for his top five place heroically. You have the same car. It was Charles who'd been hiding in the motorhome during the whole race, avoiding every camera as best he could. And he felt awful for that, too. Didn't even go out to congratulate his friends — wrapping Pierre in his arms, enjoying the ecstatic air around Nando and he didn't go out to search for Carlos who carried the whole team on his shoulders. How does one make up for missed opportunities? And what stings the most is him showing no support whatsoever to Max especially. It was meant to be his day and the day went as it was meant to be too. He should've been there at the podium. With him - for him. He should have hugged him, he should have brushed a quick kiss on the helmet, unnoticeable, so only the two of them know about it. He ended up as a melancholic selfish coward, mourning whatever got lost outside on the grid that day. ‘Cause the only thing he was sure of is this. Something died in him this season.

//cut, Max called him out from his hiding// “Ey, Charl. Finally, I see your face.” “Just when I started missing you” mumbled Charles, sort of non-vocal, but harshly enough that it tore off the smile of the Dutchman’s face. “Is that sarcasm or serious?” Max sounded hurt, excellent. Just what Charles needed after today, ruining the mood of the homerace winner golden lion. Damn, he is too bitter even for his inner monologues. So he tries to listen outside as a change. “Hon, schatje, you don’t have to act tough for me! I know how bad you must feel. I cannot know the exact feeling but I’ve been there, you know that. Please. Trust me with your sorrow.” Charles tries accepting the offered comfort in the form of soft gazes, warm hands on his back, on his face. Soft touches lingering on his scalp. He still felt tense but his walls can be torn down by one piece of brick at a time. "What if--" he began, Max cut him off. "You know we hate what ifs." Charles smiled, softly (that's a first). We. They race alike, they think alike. He may ponder about it sometime later. "But what if" he had to pressure this thought out, Max had to know about his concern. He was afraid of being right about it, but being alone with this realisation was even more alienating. "What if it was me, not the car. It isn't the strategy that is shit, just me."

to be continued