froglamp
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Summary
Some estates run on tradition. Others run on desperation.
Max Verstappen’s manor operates on both, but for the first time, he finds himself wanting to break a rule rather than enforce one.
His new Omega housekeeper is perfect in every way—punctual, precise, painfully beautiful.
And Max has spent the last three weeks convincing himself that Charles’s obvious deference is simply good breeding.
That the way his hips sway when he walks down the marble hallway is just efficient movement. That the faint scent of salt and honey that clings to his collars is merely an Omega’s natural perfume, not an invitation.
Tonight, he stops lying to himself.
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Bookmarked by froglamp
05 Jul 2026
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Charles had developed a problem.
Nothing serious or life altering. Not even a particularly inconvenient one. Just a problem in the sense that every weekday at exactly ten-thirty in the morning, he found himself looking for the same man.
It had all started innocently enough, like most fixations.
The route along the waterfront was one of his favorites. It was just long enough to get his clients some good exercise, but not too long that it dragged and made the day miserable. The path curved past a small park overlooking the harbor, where tourists sat on benches with overpriced coffee and locals pretended not to notice the yachts. It was scenic, usually quiet, and most importantly, every dog in Monaco seemed to love it.
The tattoo shop had been an afterthought.
Mostly.
Bookmarked by froglamp
01 Jul 2026
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“Why do you keep hanging out with him?”
”Wha— Why wouldn’t I?”
Max clicked his lips so hard he thought it’ll bleed. “Dunno. Perhaps I’m worried you’ll hate me as much as he does.”
or ; Max can’t really handle the thought of Charles being completely fine with the people that hates him
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- English
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Bookmarked by froglamp
29 Jun 2026
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“No relationship is perfect, especially when you have to meet in the middle. But I’m very happy.”
“I gather your Max is not from your world, then?” the reporter gently presses for details.
“Uhm.” Charles looks down at his hands and smiles. His Max. “I’ll just say that… I know how to drive, he knows Aristotle.”Or: Charles is a F1 driver, Max is doing his PhD at Cambridge. It really shouldn’t work. Somehow, it does.
Bookmarked by froglamp
27 Jun 2026
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Max had always felt something scorching, invisible, thrumming between him and the married man next door.
He called it hostility. Called it a love that never bloomed, already withered.
But so what? A gorgeous neighbor with a kid, and a boy barely eighteen—the combination sounded like the opening line of some absurd, pre-written play.
No one told Max that his life’s script would be torn to shreds by that man, on a summer night.
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- English
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Bookmarked by froglamp
23 Jun 2026