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The paddock after midnight was quiet in a way that seemed uncanny. What usually was flooded with people by day was now a ghosttown. Just the way Max liked it. No engines, no shouting voices, no flashing cameras. Just the soft hum of lights and the echo of distant city life.
It wasn't that uncommon for drivers and other VIP authorized personnel to take walks through the paddock– Max had even found Toto once pacing around after hours talking on his phone. Max didn't do this every race though, only the ones that got him more agitated. Sleepless.
That 's when he heard ragged breathing coming from somewhere. Max freezes for a second before allowing his curiosity to guide his feet.
Another broken inhale. A soft, choked sound.
It pulled Max forward before he even realised it.
Behind a stack of equipment, he found none other than his “rival”, Charles Leclerc, sitting curled in on himself, arms tight around his knees. His breaths were too fast, too shallow. He looked as if he was having an anxiety attack. It reminded Max of himself in a few instances in the past after talking to his father. His heart immediately ached.
Max approached slowly. “Charles.”
Charles flinched, eyes darting up, wide and unfocused. “Max? I-I’m fine. Just… go.”
Max shook his head once. “No. You need help. You can't be alone like this.”
Charles’s unfocused eyes suddenly fixed on Max's blue ones. He then looked away, shaking as he tried to form his next words with utter effort.
“Would you stay with me?”
Max sat beside Charles, touching shoulders as an answer.
Something flickered across Charles’s face—confusion first, then something like helplessness. He still seemed agitated.
“May I help?”
Charles hesitated, then nodded, defeated. “P-Please.”
Max held out his hand, palm steady. “Give me your hand.”
Charles placed his trembling fingers in Max’s without argument. Max guided their joined hands to his own chest.
“Match me,” he said softly. “Inhale slowly like me. Then exhale.”
Max breathed slowly—four seconds in, six out. Charles tried to follow. His first attempts faltered. Max repeated the pattern, patient, constant. Bit by bit, Charles’s breaths synced with his.
Minutes passed in quiet.
Charles’s shoulders loosened. His grip on Max’s hand relaxed, though he didn’t let go.
Max didn’t either.
Charles stared at the ground, voice hoarse. “I'm so stupid. Tomorrow’s the race and I did terrible at qualifying.”
“You are not stupid. And not to be rude but it's not your fault you have a shit car”, he tried joking but wasn't sure if it landed.
Charles let out a breath as he buried his face in his free hand that wasn’t holding Max’s. “I feel ashamed now.”
“Why?” Max said, matter of fact. “Your body reacted. That is all. There is no shame in that”.
Charles looked up at him, exhausted, but something gentler in his eyes.
Charles snorted weakly, the closest thing to a laugh he could manage. “Thank you. Really.”
“You are welcome.”
Their hands were still joined and none seemed to want to move away.
Charles swallowed, throat tight. He whispered. “I’m… glad you were here.”
Silence settled around them, not heavy but warm.
When Charles finally pushed himself to stand, he wavered. Max rose with him immediately.
“I-I really don’t want to be alone” Charles admitted anxiously, eyes lowered as if he were about to relapse at the thought of it.
“Do you want me to walk you to your room and stay for a while?” Max offered, as if it was the most common thing in the world to be emotional support to rival drivers.
“Yes please”
They walked side-by-side through the dim paddock. Charles drifted a little closer than necessary. Max didn’t correct the distance.
Outside Charles’s door, he paused. “You don’t have to stay. I don't want to be a nuisance on your sleep schedule” Charles laughed awkwardly. Max simply said. “I will stay.”
Charles exhaled, relieved, and opened the door. Max guided him to the bed and Charles sat on the edge. He noticed a bottle of Klonopin by the table but didn't comment on it.
“Are you feeling better?”
Charles nodded. Max found a glass and filled it with water before passing it to the brunet. His hands were less shaky now, Charles seemed more in control.
It was Max’s turn to be slightly agitated as he struggled to let out what he wanted.
“Charles… Whenever you’re like this…” Max started awkwardly before stating firmly as he sat by his side, “you can come to me, okay?”
Charles looked at him in surprise, speechless. He nodded slowly, breathing heavily as he noticed just how close Max’s face was to him when their eyes met. Charles unconsciously licked his lips as he flicked his eyes over Max’s and that was all Max needed to close the distance between them.
Charles gasped in surprise with the force of the kiss but immediately gave in, holding onto Max for dear life. He shamefully whined when Max broke away from the kiss earning a grin from the world champion.
“Sleep. You’re tired and had a rough day. Tomorrow we’ll talk things through.”
Charles pouted but nodded in agreement, he was in fact so tired that he wasn’t certain if all of this wasn’t just a hallucination induced by exhaustion.
Max tucked him in bed and for a moment Charles internally panicked at the thought that he was going to leave now. However, his fears were soothed as the Dutch lied down right beside him, holding him closely.
Charles doesn’t remember the last time he fell asleep so blissfully.