..

Okay.

It was an insane accomplishment. Sure.

Max Verstappen won from p17.

Insane.

And sure enough his team was going mad.

Everyone was dying, laughing, crying, drunk and high of the ecstasy. Almost like a Charles Leclerc win.

Almost. The tifosi were just a little better. Charles smiled.

But still. Charles himself was in awe. Just..how?

The race didn’t go…horrid for the Ferrari driver either, but it ended with a alright p5.

Today, with the rain, at Interlagos, was Max’s day.

The podium ceremony was finally filled with the sweet, sweet Dutch anthem again. That felt good.

You know what really felt good?

Seeing that little smug smile return on the Dutchman’s face.

His Dutchman’s face.

Charles would happily let 2023 happen again a million times to keep seeing that smile.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Cause he also had too much pride. Eh whatever, he’d make his cherie smile some other way.

.

Charles was a little busy with interviewers.

But he was pissed off. A bit.

Why was Max not coming to him?

They barely talked, except for the small congratulations Charles gave him,

It made him angry, but it’s fine, Charles could wait.

Also he was too busy celebrating with the team probably-

Suddenly Charles stopped what he was saying for a second as he looked across the..

.

Oh,

He grinned.

It was another red bull parade.

Right, Charles forgot about those. It had been so long.

Max flew happily in the air as they all cheered.

Awww-huh?

..it was normal to hold the winning driver in the air, duh.

But..

By the thighs?

And a hand on his-

Oh hell no

Charles’s blood boiled as he clutched the cup in his hand, only after he heard a small crack and the interviewer asking to resume did he stop glaring.

..

Eventually

Max was ecstatic as he laid there in the redbull paddocks.

Just soaking up his win. Something he hadn’t in a while.

The adrenaline finally left as he leaned his head back,

Suddenly someone came into the room.

And kissed him. Hard.

Suddenly pinning him to the sofa.