Anamara
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And maybe Charles is handling it normally.
But Max spent three days at his own apartment staring at the ceiling like a fucking idiot because his boyfriend kissed him goodbye too sweetly.
or
Charles kisses his boyfriend goodbye. Max tries to stay nonchalant about it.
Series
- Part 3 of baseline
Bookmarked by Anamara
11 Jun 2026
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"Charles?"
Charles smiles. "Max." On the other side of the wall, he hears Max let out a relieved laugh.
"What are the chances we get rooms next to each other?" Max remarks.
"Near zero."OR: One weekend, Charles and Max's hotel rooms are right next to each other, and they get to talking.
Bookmarked by Anamara
19 May 2026
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Charles opens the door in his work out shorts and giant hoodie, half of his hair smooshed to the side of his head while the other sticks straight up. He's frantically trying to smooth it with one hand as he swings the door wide with the other, but gets distracted by Max standing there, red-cheeked and trying to pretend he isn’t panting.
The cloud of rainpancakesearthsyrup floods into his apartment, making Charles blink dazedly. It’s so fucking good. He can’t help but gasp a bit, surprised.
Max takes a final deep, almost heaving breath and shoots his arm out straight in front of him, a dark blue hoodie clenched in his fist. “Here.”
Charles doesn’t reach for it. He eyes Max, the sheen of sweat along his hairline, the fit of his relatively but not egregiously skinny jeans.
“Did you—did you run here?”
Max grimaces a little, then shrugs. “Brought this for you.”
*
Charles has spent the last 28 years highly sensitive to smell, usually to the detriment of his own well-being. So what if Max’s presence—and scent—have always helped with that?
So what if this is the year Max finally notices?
Bookmarked by Anamara
08 May 2026
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Streamer Max and F1 driver Charles live in the same city. One sweater should not cause this many rumors, but could it lead to something more?
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Bookmarked by Anamara
10 Apr 2026
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Max felt it before he saw it—the brush of air, the sudden wrongness at his wrist.
“What the—”
The moped was already accelerating, a blur of movement and noise, the rider leaning low as they tore down the street. Max stared, stunned, at his bare wrist.
For half a second, nobody moved. “Putain de merde,” Charles snapped.
“Hey!” one of the fans shouted, too late.
“That’s my—” Max started, then stopped, blinking. His watch was gone. Just like that. Snatched cleanly off his wrist. Wasn’t sleight-of-hand for magicians?
Charles was already backing away, keys in hand.
“Charles,” Max said, still dazed. “It’s fine. It’s just—”
“No,” Charles said, and there was nothing polite about his voice now. His jaw was set, eyes already tracking the direction the moped had gone. “No, absolutely not.”
“Charles,” Max repeated, more urgently this time. “You don’t need to—”
“I do,” Charles said. He grabbed Max’s sleeve briefly. “Get in the car.”
Max hesitated. “This is insane.”
“Yes,” Charles agreed. “I know.”
OR Bottom!Max has his watch stolen and Charles loses his mind a little bit (based on 2022 incident in Italy)
Bookmarked by Anamara
10 Apr 2026