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Chapter Text

It was a cold winter night, he was seventeen.

Charles was getting comfortable under his covers about to let sleep finally take over him. His eyelids felt heavy, and he felt a comfortable warmth in his belly from dinner with his family.

This is why he liked racing at home the most. He could leave the familiar track and come back to his own house, shower in his own bathroom, eat the food his mother made, and go to sleep in his own bed instead of a stiff motel mattress in a different country.

There was nothing better than this.

Just as he was feeling his consciousness slip, he heard a soft knock on the door that woke him up.

Someone was at the front door. Strange, they weren’t expecting someone, and it was late. He didn’t want to get up but he didn’t think his parents heard the knock until the stranger knocked again, this time harder.

He got up and immediately regretted losing the warmth of his bed. As he was walking down the stairs he saw his mom at the door, about to open it, so he stayed put behind her. She checked the peep hole, looked back at him with a surprised expression and cracked open the door.

It was Max.

With a black eye.

Soon to be Formula One racing driver, childhood rival, black-eye having, Max Verstappen.

“Honey, what are you doing here? What happened? Are you okay?” questioned his mother with a voiced laced full of concern.

Max was just standing there, frozen in place, in silence. He hunched over himself, being weighed down by the backpack over his shoulders. He looked terrible.

His mom must have realized she wasn’t going to get anywhere and urged Max to come in.

“Charles go get your dad and some blankets, he must be freezing!” he got into action and heard her said in the distance “Come here to the living room, are you hungry?”

He grabbed his dad and some blankets and handed them to his mom. Which she used to hurriedly covered Max with.

“I’m okay… sorry”

“Oh don’t be sorry baby” she turned to look at Charles and ordered “Charles, stay with him, just give your dad and I a minute”

They both stared at them walk into the kitchen sharing a whispered conversation, probably trying to figure out what the next step was.

Charles wasn’t sure what to do in this situation, it wasn’t everyday your life-long rival, who wasn’t really a rival now that they were on different series and who you had a little bit of a crush on, showed up at your door with a black eye in the middle of the night, but Max had always been a little bit of a mystery. So, he just sat on the couch there, like an idiot, staring.

Now that he had the time to look at him more attentively, besides the bruises covering his left eye, Max had some tear tracks covering his flushed checks (probably because of the cold) and he was curled up on himself, trembling under the blanket. Something really bad must’ve happened to him.

He wishes he could brush his checks clean until there was no trace of sadness anymore, he wishes he could kiss those bruises better, pepper him with love until the purplish red turned to the usual paleness. A pang of frustration and anger went through his chest, he was going to kill whoever did this to Max.

He stopped this train of thought before he could do something stupid. He wasn’t sure when the annoyed and infuriating feelings he had for Max during karting turned into whatever this is but he couldn’t let it make Max uncomfortable right now.

“Why did you come here? why are you here?” he said softly so his parents didn’t hear.

“I didn’t know where else to go, I don’t know anyone else here” Max looked down, he seemed ashamed “I didn’t know what to do this time… your family is really nice”

This time.

“What happened to your eye?”

“Nothing”

Liar.

“Did you get in a fight?”

“What?” he said, offended “of course not”

“Then tell me”

“I don’t want to talk about it”

“Was it your dad?” Max straightened his posture and didn’t answer.

So it was.

He didn’t want to believe the rumours, he’d always hear stories as a child but he wasn’t old enough to understand it. Now that he was grown up, he wasn’t in contact with Max as much, even if he followed his races closely. They were never close, Max wasn’t close with anyone. He should’ve noticed, should’ve put two and two together, and tried to do something to help Max, before it came to this.

Looking back, there were moments where he should’ve known something was up.

***

They were eight.

It was scorching hot that afternoon and they were wrapping up the karts and stuff in order to go home. Some kids were desperately taking their helmets and race suits off, others were drowning themselves with cold water. Charles himself was one of the kids, walking around trying to gulp as much water as he physically could.

He felt like a human puddle and it was gross.

As the heat was finally leaving his body he spotted Max. Still wearing his suit and helmet. He thought that was odd, there was no way he wasn’t melting under all the equipment. He was just sitting in a dark corner, curled up on himself, hiding.

Max had gotten a good result that day, he came in second, so he wasn’t sure why he would be sad. He knew Max loved to win, and specially hated to lose, just like everybody else there. He understood the frustration of being close to wining but it not being enough, but that didn’t mean that he would chose punish himself by cooking inside a suit in this weather.

He was about to go over to Max and tell him to stop acting dumb until he showed up.

Charles had always been scared of Mr. Verstappen. He had always felt uneasy when he was near. Jos was always too loud, too harsh, too aggressive. He didn’t like how he talked to Max. He saw them before, at other races, where Max always looked serious next to him, trying to take up as little space as possible, and completely quiet. Charles knew Max wasn’t always like that, he had managed to get a smile from him once or twice. But his dad told him it would be better if he’d keep his distance from Mr. Verstappen, and Charles was still a child, he didn’t have neither the guts or the strength to confront the man. So he just played the witness.

“Are you crying?” Jos huffed “Don’t tell me you’re crying Max”

Max stayed silent, staring at the floor.

Maybe he should’ve left, gave them privacy, but he was curious.

“Answer me! Take that helmet off right now” Jos grabbed Max by the arm and pulled him upright.

Max did as he was told, tentatively taking it off to reveal his red blotchy face. It was puffed up and his eyes were all red, he had clearly been crying. He’d never seen Max cry before.

Jos grabbed Max face and said “You’re pathetic”

With that, hand still clutching Max’s arm, they stormed away.

***

“Charles, honey, listen.” His mom called while walking back to them “We’re going to give you some ice for that eye and set the spare mattress in your room. Max will sleep there for the night, is that okay?”

She handed Max the ice bag covered with a hand towel so it didn’t burn.

“I could sleep on the cou-”

“That’s okay mom” Charles interrupted. There was now way he was going to let Max sleep alone here. He turned his head to him and with a small smile said “I can lend you some clothes to sleep in”

He stood up from the couch, took his backpack from the floor, and guided Max upstairs and to his room. He gestured Max to sit down in his bed, which he did hesitantly, grabbed a black long-sleeved shirt and some joggers that looked comfortable enough to sleep in.

As he handed the clothes to Max he says “The bathroom is the first door on the left and there’s some spare toothbrushes on the first drawer”

“Thanks”

As soon as he was out of the room Charles set the backpack aside, pulled the spare mattress he had under his bed for when his friends came over, and threw a couple of extra blankets on it.

After a few minutes he hears the toilet flush, some quiet footsteps approaching, and then two little knocks.

“Can I come in?” Max said softly.

“Yeah come in” said Charles while trying to keep his brain from short-circuiting from how big his clothes looked on Max “you can sleep on my bed”

The disheveled and almost angry expression contrasted how soft and shy he looked.

“Your bed?” He shook his head “Let me sleep on the floor”

“No way Max, you’re a visit, you get the normal bed” Charles said decisively as he laid down on the floor mattress.

It could be softer but he was tired enough to not care.

“But I’m already causing trouble-”

“My house, my rules. Go to sleep”

Max huffed but he finally laid down on his bed. Even with everything happening right now he was still stubborn as always. It was endearing. Charles thought he could find anything Max does endearing. He was okay with that.

He turned off the nightlight so the only light coming into the room was what slimmer of streetlights mixed with moonlight could come through the uncovered part of the window. He could still see Max laying on his back, his good eye opened while covering the other with the ice bag.

He seemed sad and he could almost hear the cogs turning in his head.

A few moments of peaceful silence passed until Max decided it was enough.

“I can find a summer job”

“What?”

“I can find a summer job and pay you. To stay here”

“You don’t need to do that”

“I’m starting in Formula One next year, you know?”

“I know”

What a show-off.

“I’ll find somewhere else to live with my salary and I won’t bother you again”

“Max you’re not bothering anyone”

Max didn’t seem to listen.

“If it’s too much right now I could try and find someone else to stay with tomorrow”

“Max. Stop. Shut up. I want you to stay here”

Silence.

“Fine”

They settled down again and Charles closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the blankets pull him back to sleep.

***

He woke up to hushed bickering.

He blinked his eyes open to see his two brothers. Standing next to each other at the door, giggling and whispering like a bunch of idiots.

A twenty-six year old and a fourteen year old, laughing together. At him.

What a way to start the day.

“What are you doing?” he whisper-yelled at them.

“Who’s your little friend there?” they both wiggled their eyebrows at him, teasing.

Charles flushed “He’s not- Get out. You’re going to wake him up”

He waved his hand at them, trying to shoo them away, but all the movement seemed to wake Max up because he started stirring on his sleep.

He was going to kill them.

“What’s going on?” Max mumbled against his pillow.

Max lifted his face, glanced at him, and then at the door.

“No way!” Lorenzo yelled excitedly “That’s Max!”

Max stiffened.

“Who’s Max?” Arthur was probably too young at the time to remember Charles’ karting rivals.

“You know Max. Charles talks about him all the time. The blue-eyed boy”

He snapped his head at Max, a little flushed “That’s not true!”

“Ooh, yeah” Arthur said like it all made sense now.

That’s it for Charles.

He got up from his bed and he slammed the door on their faces.

Could he really not go two consecutive seconds without embarrassing himself? In front of Max of all people.

He blinked hard and turned on his heels to face Max, still sitting on the bed

“So… do you eat breakfast?”

Max half nodded in response.

Charles isn’t sure how he’ll manage to co-exist in close proximity to Max for a whole day, maybe more.

Long days awaited.

Chapter Text

What was he thinking showing up at Charles’ house, unannounced?

He didn’t know what to expect from all this. He was hoping he could stay here until the winter break ended and he started his rookie season. Of course he was excited to start his Formula One career. After all, it’s what he worked for all his life. But he wasn’t even that close to Charles. It was ridiculous of him to ask for him and his family to foster him at their house.

Still, he didn’t have any other options.

He had only a backpack of ratty looking clothes, his body hurt all over, and he felt gross.

He was an absolute mess.

Nevertheless, the Leclerc’s opened their door for him and took him for the night and now he found himself about to share breakfast with them.

Their house was nothing like his dad’s van or the motel rooms they usually stayed in between each race. The house was big, warm, lived-in. All five Leclerc’s gathered around the kitchen, each doing different tasks to get the food ready. It looked rehearsed, harmonious, like they’ve done this a million times before.

It made him feel strange, sent a twinge to his stomach.

He felt out of place. So he stood there, awkward as always, while Charles and his brothers chattered in french about god knows what.

“Good morning, did you sleep okay?” asked Mrs. Leclerc.

“Yes, Mrs. Leclerc”

Stupid Charles he left him alone to talk with his mom.

“Oh you don’t need to call me that” she chuckled “Pascale is just fine. What do you like for breakfast?”

“Anything is fine, Mrs- Pascale”

Max didn’t usually eat breakfast. He wasn’t picky.

She turned to look at him.

“Your eye still looks a little bit swollen” he wishes she hadn’t raised her hand to try and touch it, because it caused him to step back. Her expression contorted to something he took as pity.

He didn’t like people pitying him.

“I’ll get you more ice for it”

He sat down at the table, not noticing how tired he was until he sat down. He wasn’t hungry, his body ached all over, and he was hot. Charles sat down next to him.

When he was younger Max thought Charles was the worst. Always fighting him on track and always staring at him off it. He was never really worried about the racing part but the staring… he didn’t know what it was.

It weirded him out.

He thought of himself as a very confident person on track but off track it was a different story. So when a random kid he karted with stared at him non-stop it affected him. Maybe Charles did it to make Max nervous and pull a mistake off of him.

But now, they didn’t race against each other, Max was staying in his house, and Charles still stared at him.

“You look hot”

What?

“What?”

“I mean, you look warm” Charles raised his hand and placed the back of it on his forehead “You are warm”

“Maman, Max is warm”

What a snitch.

Mrs. Leclerc got over to them and placed her lips over his forehead. He didn’t step away this time. It felt nice, it reminded him when his mom did the same thing when he was little.

“Well, don’t worry about it, we’ll have you eat something and get you some medicine”

Great, not only the Leclerc’s were obsessed with physical touch, now he was getting sick.

He could handle a cold by himself, he’d done it a million times before, but he wasn’t going to contradict Mrs. Leclerc.

Once he got some food in his system, learned he doesn’t like coffee, and took the pill Mrs. Leclerc gave him, Charles thought it was a good idea for them to watch a movie. So they settled down in the couch while Charles aggressively insisted on him watching the Harry Potter movies after he found out Max had never seen them.

“Um, what does your family do now?”

“Well, my parents and Lorenzo left for work and Arthur went to a friends house”

“So we’re alone”

“Yeah”

He really hoped Charles wasn’t uncomfortable with him.

“So what’s special about these movies?”

Apparently that struck a chord with Charles because he turned to face him with an excited smile on his face.

“Everything is special about these movies, wait until I make you read the books”

“The books?”

“Yes! They’re so good it feels like you’re in them”

Max hummed in response.

“It’s starting! Pay attention”

He survived the first movie, he had actually enjoyed it, but by the second one he couldn’t keep his eyes from closing. He felt heavy, his body ached, and tiredness took over him.

Max let himself fall asleep.

***

Max wakes up to a nudge to his shoulder.

“Max” Charles whispered and nudged him again “Max wake up”

“What?” he mumbled, his face was squished into something firm.

“We have- We need to talk to you”

He wasn’t very lucid yet but he now realized the firm thing he was leaning in was in fact Charles’ shoulder.

Max detached himself from it immediately and saw Mrs. Leclerc, sitting on an ottoman, and they both had a worried look on their faces.

Max felt his stomach drop.

They were going to kick him out. They’ve found out what happened and didn’t want him in their houses anymore. He was going to be homeless. Even worse, he was going to have to go back to his dad after everything.

“Max, I need to ask you about… your situation”

“You’re going to ask me to leave”

There were some tears forming on the corner of his eyes. He really didn’t want to cry.

“No no, we are not going to kick you out Max” she rested a hand on his shoulder “I just need to know something”

“Oh”

“I could leave you to talk…” as Charles was standing up something came over Max and he grabbed Charles’ wrist, trying to communicate with his eyes that he didn’t want him to leave.

Luckily, Charles understood and sat back down.

“Max, you haven’t seen the news, have you?”

“No… what’s going on?”

She handed him her phone to an article that read ‘Former Formula One driver Jos Verstappen dies aged 42 in a car accident’

“We just found out with the paper and…” Max was sure she was still talking but he couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears.

His dad was dead.

He tried to suck in a breath but it got stuck in his throat. He couldn’t breathe, and he felt tears running down his cheeks. Max curled up on himself on the couch and tried to drown his sobs with his hands.

He can’t stop himself. He is drowning in tears, choking for air, and he grips his hair. Someone is pulling him closer to hold him and a hand takes his fingers out of his head.

His heart is racing, he’s sweating cold, and a pressure is pushing on his chest.

He wishes he hadn’t left him, none of this would’ve happened, it was all his fault. His dad was dead and it was all his fault.

His life was over.

He keeps on crying and sobbing and Max feels like this goes on forever until he starts to tire himself out, dry of tears, and his breath starts to even.

Charles is shushing him, rocking them on their seats, and petting his hair.

“I’m so sorry Max. It will be alright”

“We’ll figure it out mon chou”

He just sniffs and nudges closer to Charles.

***

This time he wakes up on Charles’ bed. Someone must’ve picked him up and left him there.

The sun was going down and an orange hue washed over the room. He didn’t pay much attention the night before but now he had the chance to look around Charles’ room. He had walls covered with Ferrari posters and bookshelves riddled with books, he now could difference the Harry Potter ones from the rest.

The room was really Charles.

He grabbed his phone from his backpack to check his messages. He hadn’t touched it since last night.

He had three missed calls from his mom and a few texts from an hour ago.

I saw the news

Are you okay honey?

Where are you?

The article said he was alone

I’m worried about you

Please answer

If you don’t answer I’m flying there

I’m okay

I wasn’t with him

I’m staying at the Leclerc’s house for now

They’re really nice

He was trying really hard not to think about his dad and he was failing. Obviously.

They had a difficult relationship but he was still his dad. It dawned on him that he was never going to see him again. He can’t believe their last interaction was-

The door opened and Charles slipped in.

“Max, are you awake?”

“Yeah” he sighed.

Charles sat down at the edge of the bed and he sat up.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know”

“I’m sorry”

“Stop being sorry”

“But you-”

“Stop being sorry”

Now Charles was the one sighing.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure”

“What happened before you got here?”

Oh.

“Please tell me”

“Fine”

***

He had gotten back to the motel room with some groceries for dinner. He’d bought the basics to make some sandwiches. They were leaving the next day so it didn’t make sense to buy too much stuff.

It was very cold outside that night, his fingers were getting numb.

He opened the door to see his dad sitting on the bed, with Max’s phone in his hand and a half-empty bottle of whiskey.

“Who’s Lucas?”

Max dropped his bag on the floor.

“No one”

“Don’t lie to me Max!” he shouted as he threw Max’s phone at him. It landed on the floor “I saw your messages with him”

Max stood still, his feet stuck to the floor.

“You got a little boyfriend?” his dad stomped over to stand directly in front of him “You thought you could hide it from me?”

“No”

“Stop lying!” with that, the first slap landed.

His face and his eyes stung, and he tried to take a step away from him.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Jos pushed him, hard “You are a man, you cannot be with another man. Do you understand me?”

“But dad-”

“Shut up!” he pushed Max again.

Max was stupid, really stupid, so he pushed back.

Jos’ face contorted into the angriest he’d seen in his life and then he punched him, in the face.

And he punched again.

And again.

And again.

Until Max was laying on the floor, crying.

“You’re disgusting. You will never speak to that boy again”

Apparently Jos had had enough of Max as he heard the bathroom door close.

Max had the brightest idea he’d ever had.

He was going to run away.

He stood up and fast as he could, ignoring his aching body. He thanked whatever God was out there for his backpack already being packed, grabbed his phone from the floor, and got out of there.

***

“… and then I remembered where your house was”

He glanced at Charles and saw his gloomy eyes. He made Charles sad, he sucked.

“Max I’m s-” Charles bit his lip.

And then he did something very weird.

He hugged him.

Max buried his head in his shoulder.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t even been a full day of living with Max and Charles was overwhelmed.

So much had happened in so little time, he actually learned a lot about Max in these last twenty-four hours, from small to big. Max didn’t like coffee, he’d never watched Harry Potter before, he likes men, he had a boyfriend, his dad was a violent piece of shit, and his dad was dead. He’d seen him cry today more times than ever before.

After his talk with Max, things got a little bit awkward.

He thought it would be good to give him a little bit of space, so he left Max in his room while he got a shower.

He stripped down and let the warm water settle his thoughts.

Charles wasn’t sure if the hug was the right move, Max hadn’t ever seemed like the touchy-feely type, but today he had opened up and he didn’t push him away when he hugged him. He had even hugged back, and Charles could still feel the warmth that traveled out of his arms and the small puffs of breath hitting his neck. A thrill ran down his back just thinking about it.

He had a problem.

As he dried himself up he redirected his thoughts into something more productive. Like brainstorming ways to try and make Max feel better. He concluded that hugs, no matter how much he enjoyed them, wouldn’t cut it.

He called it a “reset”.

It was sort of a routine he did all the time to get his mind out of whatever was bothering him. He used to do it when he lost Jules, it had helped, and he hoped it would work for Max too.

The “reset” consisted on watching the Harry Potter movies, practicing the local track for hours, walking by the pier, and eating ice cream. Then, he went home, boiled himself on the shower, changed into fresh clothes, and cried himself to sleep.

So that’s exactly what he planned Max to try. With him.

***

When he got back into his room Max looked even more battered than before. He was sat hunched over himself, looking down as his feet, fidgeting with his phone. His face was still bruised, and he looked flushed.

Maybe he was getting a fever again.

He got a short sleeved shirt for Max to change to, thinking it could help if he was feeling feverish again.

“I’m done, you can shower now” he announced to the room.

He didn’t get a reaction so he gave Max a little nudge and dropped the shirt on his lap, which seemed to pull him away from whatever corner in his brain he was in.

“Thanks” he said while grabbing his backpack and exiting the room, still looking distracted.

Charles sat down and stared at the bathroom door until his mom poked her head into the room.

“He’s in the shower” he said, assuming she was looking for Max.

“Good” she strolled in and sat besides him “Then we can talk”

“About what?”

She probably wanted to talk about Max, maybe she wanted him to tell her what he knew. He wasn’t sure if he should, maybe he should wait until Max wanted to.

“About you, how you’re feeling”

“I’m okay” he wasn’t sure if he was lying or not “I don’t know”

“That’s okay”

“I’m worried about Max, I think he’s getting hot again”

“We will take care of Max,” she said with a hint amusement “I just want to make sure you pay attention to yourself too” and she put an arm around his shoulders.

“I will” he said, leaning closer and resting his head in her shoulder.

He tended to do that, caring for others until he forgot about himself.

They stayed still, enjoying each others presence, until the shower turned off and his mom said she was going to check on dinner.

Max got out of the bathroom with his hair sticking out in every direction, damp, and wearing the clothes Charles gave him.

He kind of wanted to reach out and smooth his hair down. His hand twitched.

He shouldn’t.

His eyes shifted into the new exposed skin of Max’s arms. To distract himself. He had a couple of fading green bruises there too.

Max seemed to have noticed where his gaze fell because he quickly crossed his arms, digging his fingers in, trying to hide.

He didn’t say anything. They went downstairs for dinner.

It went smoothly, albeit a bit awkward.

His mom and dad tried to make some small talk, which was fine, until they tried with Max. He was clearly still uncomfortable with them, specially with his dad. He replied, but his answers were short and he sounded a little lost.

They didn’t push, but Charles still tried to steer the conversation away from him and onto his brothers, who happily yapped about what they had done in the day in broken English.

They finished eating and Max repeatedly insisted on helping with the dishes, so they did.

When they were done his mom handed Max another pill for his fever and they headed back upstairs.

The day was about to be over, he was snug under his covers, his eyes closed and ready to sleep. They could both finally rest and get this day over with until

“Charles” Max whispered.

He didn’t open his eyes yet. He just wanted to rest.

“What?” he asked, trying not to sound too annoyed.

“Lucas” Max’s voice cracked a little “he said we shouldn’t talk anymore”

“What?” this time he asked incredulous, opening his eyes “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know” Max sighed “It’s probably for the best”

“Maybe” Charles thought Lucas was the stupidest person alive.

Moments of silence passed until Max broke it by saying “I’m sorry” he stalled “could you… come here?”

Oh?

He had to be dreaming. There was no way real-life Max was asking him to sleep with him. The same Max that used to battle him on track like no one else. The same Max that seemed to hate him with every fiber of his being. The same Max he wanted to be close to so badly.

He could not let this opportunity go, he felt a little guilty about taking pleasure out of this, considering Max’s situation, but he couldn’t help himself.

He had to act cool about this “Sure”

Max shifted to the side so he could make room for Charles as he got up from the floor mattress and crawled into the bed.

The bed was definitely not made for two. He couldn’t help but focus on every point of contact between them and the heat radiating from Max.

It didn’t take long until the comfortable warmth pulled them both into deep slumber.

***

There was something heavy resting on his chest. A ray of morning sun hitting his face. He blindly went to rest his hand over it, to see what it was, only to be met with a bunch of soft-fluffy hair.

For a moment he had forgotten what happened the night before.

And then he realized.

His eyes startled open to see a very peaceful sleeping Max, his head tucked into his chest and one of his arms splayed over Charles’ waist.

They must have shifted in the night.

His face looked relaxed for the first time since he got here. Charles didn’t want him to lose that so he stayed as still as possible, trying not to wake Max up.

He didn’t have anything else to do but indulge in his staring problem until Max stirred awake.

He watched in amusement as Max opened his eyes big blue eyes and realized his position. Charles could see his face turn red, but he still didn’t move away.

“Max?”

Max stiffened and leaned away to look at him.

“Do you want to go walk on the pier today?”

“Uhm, sure”

They got up and grabbed some breakfast. The others had already gone to work and Arthur was still sleeping. So they ate alone.

Charles made most of the conversation, babbling about the pier and the little ice-cream shops close to it. He told Max about how he would go all the time with his brother and dad after they came back home from races. He told him how it got very busy in the summer, because of the tourists.

He mentioned Formula One, and the race, and how he used to follow the red car as a little kid.

He still did.

Max’s eyes lit up at the mention, yet there was something else in his face he couldn’t read.

They changed to go out to the pier, Max was wearing the same clothes he had when he showed up.

Charles had texted his mom that they were going out for a walk, and they were about to go through the door when Max took him by the wrist.

“I can’t go out” he said.

“What? Why?”

“My face,” Max pointed his finger at his face, at his eye “it’s horrible. What if people see?”

Charles snapped his head at him “It’s not-” but then an idea popped into his head, he could almost see the light bulb float above his head “We can cover it up”

He took Max upstairs, to his parents bathroom, where his mothers make-up was.

He had watched his mom put it on enough times that he had some idea of what he was doing.

Max was not convinced.

“Come on,” he whined “no one will notice”

With a little back and forward, Max was still not convinced.

He didn’t really give Max a choice anyways. He grabbed him and took one of the bottles that looked closer to Max’s skin colour and tapped some of it on his face.

He blended it with his finger, softly, as to not press too much on the bruises. It looked better, little discoloration, almost invisible.

They were standing very close, inches away, staring at each other.

The air felt heavy.

Charles smiled to himself. If only he could inch forward.

Max’s cheeks turned red and he cleared his throat while stepping away.

***

The sky was clear, the sun was shinning, but it was still cold outside.

Max insisted on getting a cap to cover up as well, it was an old blue Benetton cap that he had in his backpack. Charles wasn’t really fond of caps, they smushed his hair, but he didn’t fight Max on it.

They walked around for a while, Charles pointed and talked about the places he knew, like a tour guide. Max seemed to enjoy it, listening, he would once in a while add a few pieces of information.

He thought it would be a good idea to try and race Max to his favorite ice cream place. It was, he won. Even if he got a head start on Max.

“That’s not fair! You just started running without telling me” Max protested.

Charles blew him a raspberry and Max giggled.

His stomach did a somersault at the sound and he laughed back.

Inside the store, he got vanilla for himself and strawberry for Max. He paid the cashier, they took their cones outside, and walked down to the pier.

There wasn’t that much tourist movement this time of year. So they ate their ice creams at peace, dangling their legs over the water, surrounded by boats.

Charles wanted to know about Max’s mom, he wasn’t sure if he could ask. He asked anyways. Max told him his mom knew where he was and they didn’t usually talk much.

Clearly, family was a tough topic, Max looked upset.

“Charles” Max called as he cleaned his fingers with a napkin “I need to ask you a favor”

Charles hummed in response, chewing the end of his cone and licking his sticky fingers.

“I need to go to the police station.” he fidgeted with the, now balled up, napkin “To get my dad’s stuff of course”

“You want me to go with you?” Charles gaped at Max.

Max looked back at him “Please”

Who could say no? he thought.

“Yes- I mean, I’ll go with you yes”