Chapter Text
Max Verstappen was tired. He couldn’t get exactly pinpoint when his life turned into this mess, but he wanted a safety car and a restart.
Well, he could lie to himself and wonder why he was so tired of living the dream. Formula one driver, driving on the best circuits all around the world, multimillion contract, perfect girlfriend, perfect house in Monaco, perfect everything.
Except, he was 23 and his father still controlled his life. He was gay with a model of a girlfriend. Driving for a shitty team with shitty cars that couldn’t even bother to keep his car updated all season. Updating only golden boy Lance Stroll’s car. Because of course, the son of the owner must have the best car, must be the first driver. No matter how much better Max is. No matter how great he still does with a shitty car.
He should have stayed in Go kart, at least he had fun back then. To be frank, everyday, Max wondered, should he stop? Should he just drive his car into a wall and pray for an end to this hellish contract that let his father and the Strolls dictate his whole life? He should.
Max Verstappen was considered boring as much as a f1 driver could be. It was every fan and everyone’s opinion. A stern driver, with no fault other than a slave contract with the Aston Martin Team. He could have been better with a better car. Sponsors found him boring, fans found him boring. Team Principals liked him, however they hated Jos Verstappen enough not to contact the young driver to get him a contract. Everyone knew the father and son were a double contract, and there was no way, they could impose Jos on themselves. The man was an asshole, a grade A dick, with bad attitude and that nasty habits of slapping his son when the results are not as expected. Which, in the tractor Aston Martin built, was often.
So, yeah, no team would try to get Max Verstappen because he won’t sell, and as good as he might be in a great car, his father wasn’t worth the test.
Max had said so to his rare friend Daniel Ricciardo, one night in the safety of the man’s flat, a bit drunk and desperate. "I don’t feel like I even still love this job", he had muttered after finishing his beer. "Daniel, I think I lost my passion, I want to retire."
The ex Red Bull driver, now retired thanks to an injury could no believe his ears. His Max, wanting to retire? The kid had so much passion from the sport, it was the only thing he could talk about. In the rare bout of time the Paddock had seen him without his father he had talked their ears off about the race and how everything felt. Everyone avoided him post-race to not be the subject of his famed Maxplaining and get bored to death.
"What the hell mate? What do you mean retire?"
"I just don’t have the passion anymore. I can’t do it another season. Daniel, every time I step into a plane, I get this terrible sense of dread. I just wish for peace. For my father to leave me alone, for the fucking Strolls to stop yapping at me and, for god sake, for the fucking car to work! I could be on the circuit driving the safety car and I would be faster than in this shitbox!" Max finished his rant, head in his hands and a tired look on his face. A look, so old on his young face it broke Daniel’s heart.
Six week later, Max got a call. He was in Australia. Enjoying his summer break (taking a break from his father). Daniel had invited him to stay for a week at his place after the last GP and take a break (as much as a driver could get a break during racing season). The call was cryptic, giving him a time and place, to meet and talk about his future. For a second, he thought it was a scam and then just stopped caring. If he ended dead in a ditch in Australia, at least he would be at peace.
The meeting place was a simple café where he was lead to a small hidden table where Christian Horner was waiting along with a small man with glasses and Daniel.
"What the?" The young driver tried to think of a reason why Horner would want to meet him with Daniel. Nothing made sense, and he was too tired to even hope.
"Hi, Max, if you could please sit," Horner asked politely after shaking his hand.
"Huh, yes sure, but hum… what’s happening? Daniel?" His friend only gave him the thumbs up, before Horner started speaking again.
As he sat down, the man gave him a folder and a paper. "Max, we wanted to speak about your future in F1. We, I mean the Red Bull racing team, would like you to try out to be one of our drivers. I remember we made you an offer years ago, but your refused. Now that you are older, we want you to try with us."
"What offer?" He had never heard of anything from Red Bull. Who would refuse Red Bull? Well he knew some guys who would consider themselves Ferrari purist, but well... He did not want to think about them.
Horner stilled. The man near him raised his head surprised. "What do you mean what offer? You simply refused to meet with us! You said you already had something with the Aston Martin team!" The man said.
"I would remember if you ever made me any offers," Max countered, "and you did not."
"Oh, I absolutely did", Horner said. "I remember vividly discussing your contract with your father, tough negotiator that one. Did he not talk to you about it?"
"No." That was so typical of his father Max did not even think to be disappointed.
"Damn." It was Daniel, who was looking at him with pity, as well as the two other men at the table. Old Max would have felt offended to be pitied. Tired Max only wanted for peace honestly.
"I can’t drive for you," Max added. "I have a contract with Aston Martin, the break out fee is too much to even think about it."
Horner smirked. "Well Max, How much are we talking about, the Red Bull team is wealthy you know."
"Enough to put twenty millions dollars out just to try a new driver?"
"WHAT?" Max watched the small man slam his hands on the table. "I am the Red Bull contract lawyer, Mr Verstappen, I should have introduced myself earlier, I apologize. What do you mean a 20 millions dollars fee for breaking the contract?"
"I can’t break my contract or refuse another one from the team. If I do, I would have to pay a 20 millions fee. I can send the contract to you, I don’t care at this point."
He could hear Horner mutter things such as preposterous, abuse and basically slavery.
"Can they break it?" Everyone turned their head toward Daniel who was sipping on his coffee calmly.
"Anytime they want." Max admitted.
"Then, I know a way to get out of this hellish contract," The Aussie smiled. "You just need to have a big enough scandal they’ll drop you. And Horner you will just do as you always do. As long as the driver is good, who cares about reputation."
"Well sponsor cares." Horner sighed. "But go on."
Daniel plan was simple. Max would get in trouble with the press. He explained to Horner and the lawyer he owned a strip club where Max could be photographed in a compromising situation. Then they could get him to date one of his employees "They won’t care,' Daniel had explained. 'Most of them like F1, thanks to… well huh anyway…"
Horner had then asked Max if it would enough to break his contract and he had sighed. "No, they would just shush it out." He kept thinking for a moment, before looking at Daniel. He had an idea. Something that would get him sacked in an instant from the team. "Daniel, do you have… hmmm. Male strippers?"
"Of course I do, Maxie! I even…"
"A gay scandal would oust me out of the team faster than anything else. They are not that open minded there." Damn, he was smooth coming out and ruining his chances at getting into a good car next season.
Horner shook his head. "I am not letting a fake gay scandal be your way out. It could bounce back to us harder than anything else. The team won’t care about having the first openly queer driver, it’s good publicity, but a fake one? That’s a recipe for disaster."
"But I am. You know gay?"
Horner stopped, Daniel sighed and the lawyer stopped writing. "You are?"
"Yes." Had no one noticed him checking out Lewis? He always felt so obvious.
"But, the girl?"
"She’s for publicity," Max admitted.
"Damn. They truly are asses." Horner muttered.
Daniel was still smiling, Max had already came out to him ages ago. "Then, should we plot?"
Horner nodded and that’s how Max escape started.
Which led us to the most surreal event of Max life. Charles 'just an inchident'Leclerc was standing in front of him in a private room in Daniel very fancy and public strip club. Max felt like he was hallucinating. There was no way annoying Charlie was the vision in front of him. Long legs clad in black fishnets, held up by a lacy garter with some gold chains dropping around a thin waist. Pink nipples poking through a bra made of golden chain, he looked like a wet dream. He was too... Max stopped thinking, he did not want to go this way.
Charles was holding the folder with a contract in one hand, a Champaign bottle and glasses on a plate in the other. He closed the door, dropped that plate and strutted all the way to Max lap, each steps made the chains clinks and shine. He looked like sin itself, and pretty good for someone who had been declared missing for more than five years or something. He had served himself and Max a glass of Champaign and then sat primly on Max’s lap, like it was his dedicated place. There was room on the couch, but it seemed Max's lap were more confortable for Charles.
Max watched him open the contract and reading it with a serious face. He clicked his pen, write something on one page, took a sip of his Champaign, and turned the page.
"What the fuck?" Max finally said.
"I work here. Have been since it opened." Charles explained, still reading. His lashes put a shadow on his cheeks and Max decided to look somewhere else. He was too gay for that train of thoughts.
"Aren’t you supposed to be missing?"
"I am." He took another sip. Crossed a whole section of the document and turned the page only to cross the whole page. "Daniel told me you needed someone to cause drama with. I am bored out of my mind here, so I could be tempted by a little bit of mischief." He crossed something again and clicked his tongue. "Well not with a contract like that. Who made it? a first year law student?"
"What do you even know about contracts? " Max couldn’t help but mutter. The brunette always made him want to fight.
"I have two law degrees on contracts, Max." He answered primly. "I studied in French, but well, my blood sweat and tears have international recognition."
"Dressed like that?"
Charles raised his head for the first time. Sharp green eyes meeting blue ones. Charles smiles. "Wow, do you really want to talk about fashion sense, Verstappen?" Max said nothing, but that smile put fear in his stomach. (Well not as much as the small tapping of Leclerc's pen on his dick, but he did not want to overshare here.) "Stripping pays better. I also do Daniel’s contract with his suppliers. That dummy would have been ripped off had I not been here."
He took another sip, kept reading and annotating the contract. "Here" He finally said thirty minutes later. "This is a better version, for you and I."
He stood up, got the plate, giving Max a full view of his ass and sashay’d to the door. "Come back with the edited version Verstappen." He opened the door then turned again. "And I want to hear your sob story. Something must have happened for you to go from biggest asshole on earth, to the most boring driver ever in F1."
He smiled and skittered off. Leaving Max alone in the dancing room, sultry music the only thing keeping him company.
He did as Charles asked, send his reviewed contract to the Red Bull team, kept the private one between Charles and him between himself and Danny and planned another meeting. The time, it was in the strippers changing room, on a camping table, Daniel officiating the meeting and Charles wearing a hoodie and basketball shorts. On the wall Max could see a few university diplomas written in French with Charles’ name on it.
"This is good," said man, commented reading Red Bull’s contract. "You’ll be doing great there. And they will have to treat well."
"Huh?"
"Have you not read Red Bull’s first contract Max?"
"I browsed it." He admitted.
Charles leaned on the table and flicked his forehead. "Dumbass. You always read what you sign, Max Verstappen. I tweaked it a bit, so it’s perfect for you and don’t put you in a bad position should you wish to change teams. Our contract though, we need to work on together."
Max was kind of flabbergasted. But he explained. The shit contract with Aston Martin, his father still controlling his life. Red Bull way out, the plan to have the biggest coming out scandal ever in F1 and on and on. Charles nodded all the way through his explanation. Asking sometimes for something that did not make sense to him. And then when Max had laid it all on the table, he got to work.
"We will start with pictures." Charles had explained. "Something compromising to start with a bang. Once you are out of contract, we will work on getting the public to like you. I’ll show up to your race. Make our relationship seems steady during the season. Aston Martin won’t just throw you out in the middle of the season. You are the only one capable of winning them any points. So first, we really need to work on getting you out of the contract. Then, for the second phase, we will have to make the relationship seems real. Not just a scandal of you getting hot and dirty with a stripper in club. Something more serious, we can always say we have liked each others since Go Kart. It will get you fans. At some point, we’ll get married or make it seems like that. Then when you win that goddamn WDC, like you should have won years ago. We flicker off, say something about you being around the world too much. When we feel like it is time, we divorce, You have your liberty and I have my money"
Max scoffed. When he wins, the Championship? Damn Charles had high hopes for him. "How much am I paying you?"
"One million," Charles admitted shamelessly. "It’s not too much for your freedom right?" It was much, but Max had stopped caring about a lot of things these days. Charles open his mouth to say something but stops.
"That’s less than 20 millions." Max mused aloud and Charles looked at him almost looking sad. He caught himself and smirked.
"Oh believe me Max, if you ever wish to sue Aston Martin for that contract, I could get you more than that." He purred and Daniel laughed clapping the brunette's shoulder.
"Hear that Maxie? Everything will be going well."
"I have something else to ask. Why? Why did you leave?"
Charles eyes dimmed but he kept his smile. A fake one. "I fell out of love with racing. I couldn’t…" Max knew, everyone knew, about Jules' and Charles' father's deaths. How mere weeks after the second accident, he disappeared from the surface of the earth. Even his mother and brother had said he was missing. No one knew where he went. Yet, here he was, in front of Max, ready to show back up in the paddock.
"Now, enough about me. I need to change and get my boots I am not kneeling in a dirty alley without at least some padding."
"What?"
"We need to start some shit, Maxie, I hope you like getting your dick sucked. Because I like to..."
"I beg your pardon?" His ears were malfunctioning or something. His eyes too, because when he checked the contract it looked like it was written something like Charles only getting paid when he is World Champion. Charles was already taking his hoodie off and looking at the clothes in front of him. Well clothes were supposed to have more fabrics, but well, he wasn't going to go back to the fashion territory with Charles.
"Charles, may be just some making out and petting," Daniel intervened. He looked at the younger man, and almost as if he was reminding of something said: "You are not a prostitute."
Said not prostitute was clipping a leather harness on, and taking off his short with absolutely no shame. Max had to turn his head.
"We need something more Daniel!" Charles retorted.
"Nope, I already told you, there are other solutions than sucking dick..." Max's ear were definitively malfunctioning. Daniel kept talking "Look, I know about the thing, but I don't think a very public blowjob and getting arrested for public indecency is going to get you two anywhere." Daniel leaned and whispered too loudly. "Charles, I don't even care if you suck his dick, but please, don't do it in the alley, you'll get tetanus there."
The stripper sighed and zipped his leather boots. With the short short leather skirt on, he looked like absolutely amazing. The dark leather contrasting with creamy skin. No hair in sights, just perfect expanses of white skin. And Damn, Max was gay.
"We have some reality TV star doing his bachelor party tonight." Danny explained. "You two will end up on camera don’t worry."
That’s how Max ended with laps full of very sexy, very touchy Charles Leclerc. The man was straddling him, grinding on his very obvious bulge (sue him!) and kissing his neck. "Are you sure, you don’t want me to suck you off? You heard Daniel, he can't whisper for shit. As long as it's not in an alley, he is fine with it"
"No way I am paying you for that. It’s… wrong." Max never had sex before, and he did not want to have to pay for it. Call him a prude and boring, but it felt wrong to use his childhood enemy like that.
"I want to suck you off, please." Charles whimpered and grinder harder on him. "I know you want it too..."
Max hissed and closed his eyes. He tried to think about something unsexy. But all he could feel, hear and smell was Charles begging him. "Come on Max, let yourself go. I promise you, it will be worth your time."
This was such a bad idea... "Fine." Never did he expect someone would beg to suck his dick, but the happy sound Charles made while taking his cock out was more than honest. Sparkling green eyes caught his as a warm wet mouth engulfed him. And damn Max stopped thinking, let his head fall back and grabbed soft brown curls.
The next day, Max woke up the 67 missed calls from his father, a text from Horner and many missed calls from the PR management of the team. Daniel had send him a good job.
He could loosely remember the night. After sucking the life out of him through his dick, Charles had dragged him to make out in an alley where anyone could see them. The stripper had wrapped his legs around Max’s waist as they kissed. It was Max's first time making out. And Charles had decided to make it fun. He tried to teach him how to kiss but both got too caught in each other to think about technique. They got too into each other's mouths and tongue's battling for dominance. Then "for good mesure" (Charles words), they had hopped in a taxi and got into a popular hotel where Charles had dragged him all the way to a room. Only then, the brunette had promptly passed out. Max took time to take off the boots and tucked him into the sheets. He showered and then hoped inbed too.
Charles was still out to the world near him, a tiny bit a drools dripping next to his mouth. His eyeliner was smudged as well as his lipstick but he still looked good. Max looked at his phone, wondering what he should do. He could check the articles first, or call his father back. Or wake Charles up? His phone rung and once again, Jos made a decision for his son.
Sighing, Max answered. "Yes?"
"You fucking dimwit. Do you have any ideas how the mess you caused?" Ah his father, always shouting, not even a greeting.
He opened his mouth but a hand grabbed his phone. "Fuck off, Max needs to sleep." Charles groaned into the phone, before hanging up and snuggling under the covers.
Shit thought Max. He was fucked. He was so fucked. "Why did you?"
"Your dad’s a dick Max, you need to tell him to fuck off. Else he’ll keep doing just that." Pretty green eyes looked at him and a hand cupped his face. "Don’t worry baby, I’ll protect you. I’m your boyfriend right?"
With that he closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.
Two weeks later, Max was in a meeting with Aston Martin PR. The articles were all about him coming out and getting caught in 4k. The picture hid Charles face quite well, but there was no doubt, his partner was male and that they were very, very into each others. He could feels eyes on him as he walked through the headquarters. His father had slapped him the second he got off the plane. Charles would join him soon, but the monégasque had some things to take care of before joining him and start the perfect boyfriend part.
They had a couple of articles about them and, surprisingly, Charles identity was kept a mystery. The paddock was going to faint when Max will show up with him in tow for his home race.
The Aston Martin meeting, went as well as Charles had planned. They wanted him to refute the articles. When he refused, saying he did not want to stay in the closet when he was already outed. They threatened him. They said they would break the contract, he would have to pay a fee. When Max reminded them, no he won’t because they will be ones breaking the contract.
PR had to call the Lawrence Strolls. The answer was simple. "No fags in their team." It was bad for the team image to have a promiscuous homosexual driver.
When he had said such to Charles, he had laughed and changed Max contact's name to "promiscuous homosexual". Musing aloud he was anything but.
Max could not believe it, but here he was free of his almost ten years contract with Aston Martin. As simple as that. News of Aston Martin not renewing his contract soon followed and people to it. It was too much drama for everyone. Charles had laughed when he had called to talk about it. "Wait till they all start to love you. They will be begging you to sign another contract." He had said while they were FaceTiming.
Free and, one day before starting the part two of their dubious plan, Charles looked at him from his spot between his thighs. "See Maxie? You should get your dick sucked more often, only good things comes with that." Max had only hissed, as his fake boyfriend took him back into his mouth. Damn Charles Leclerc and his oral fixation.