PogChamp1206
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“Look, Max, I think that we should . . . we should talk about us. We need to stop with this . . . thing.”
Max rolls his eyes, then stands up from the desk to go and sit back in his chair.
“You don’t always have to be so responsible, you know.”
“I’m fifteen years older than you.”
“You’re twelve years older than me, don’t round up. You should round down.”
“Ten years older than you, then,” Charles says stiffly. “And one of us has to be responsible.”
“That’s not what you said last time, when you were crying on my cock.”
Charles clenches his jaw. “Yes, well. I was pregnant. Emotional. It can’t happen anymore."
He’s had four months of maternity leave to think about it, and he knows he’s making the right decision. No matter how good Max makes him feel, or how much fun he’d had in the year before falling pregnant and the nine months during, it can’t happen anymore. Max is too young for him. He’s his boss. “I have a child now.”
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Charles comes back from maternity leave, determined to put a stop to his affair with his boss. He's never had much self-control when it comes to Max, though.
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No one ever promised Technoblade safety before.
Plenty of people have offered him plenty of things, but they were always presented as deals. Techno gives himself to them in exchange for something: renown, his life, an escape route off a dying planet. It all seems the same after enough time, and this latest server is no different. The revolution that was supposed to come of it never did.
Techno is tired and done with it all. Frankly, he doesn't even care if there's an age minimum for retiring. If he wants safety, he obviously has to make it for himself.
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Techno has seen too much, and done far more, in his very short life. When he lands on Hermitcraft by accident, he swears it'll be nothing more than a bump on his road away from people and the trouble they bring.
But the Hermits may just have something more to offer him, something no one else ever could...
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On the drive back to the hotel Max had turned to him, blue eyes fierce and piercing.
“Promise me you won’t stop being angry. You’re angry because you know what you can do. Use it, control it, let it fuel you. Other people won’t understand but that doesn’t matter, you know what you’re capable of.”
You and me, he’d seemed to say, we’re the same.
Charles wonders now how he ever thought Max wouldn’t understand.
Or: Charles leaves Ferrari, tries to win a championship, and learns some things about belonging. All the while, Max is there.
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Bookmarked by PogChamp1206
08 May 2026
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There’s someone standing in his kitchen.
He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.
Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.”
Or: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.
Except, maybe he does.
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Aftermath of the 2025 Spanish Grand Prix and the relationship between Max and Red Bull.
Bookmarked by PogChamp1206
07 May 2026