Chapter Text
“Charles will be coming over later,” Max says casually. As casually as he can, considering the possible responses from his roommates.
They’re not necessarily bad; the reactions to Max announcing that Charles is coming over.
Often, the guys will just hum or nod, give a short sign that they acknowledge what the Dutchman has said and that they don’t have any objections.
Sometimes, if they’re not too stressed by uni work, they’ll even be excited about it; Lando dropping a little ‘oh, neat’ and George humming about how he hasn’t seen Charles in a while.
That’s normal, that’s good.
What’s not so good is what George, Lando and Alex have recently taken up saying when Max mentions Charles.
Alex likes to say something along the lines of, “Are you finally taking him out on a proper date to confess your feelings? You know it’s not good to bottle up your feelings.”
George likes to compare, “Sometimes I honestly think you’re more in love with him than Alex is with Lily, and they’ve been together for years.” That one at least offends not only Max, but Alex, too.
Lando is a bit more direct, most of the time. Max remembers quite the harsh thing his British roommate has said to him once, “Have you accidentally said ‘I love you’ during sex by now?”
At that, Max blushes hard, but not really because they’re talking about sex, but because that situation happening is an actual fear of Max. Not necessarily an unreasoned fear, if he’s being very honest with himself.
Even Oscar likes to tease Max, and he doesn’t even live with them.
Still, he spends enough time with all of them to not have to ask every single time Max mentions Charles, “Oh, your boyfriend?”
Every single time, Max will grumble back that, “He’s not my boyfriend,” and then there will be four synchronized groans from everyone, and one murmured ‘pathetic’ from Lando.
So, Max’ friends like to tease him and it’s what he expects when they’re sitting in their living room this Wednesday night, Alex and Lando sharing a pizza while Max nervously checks his phone, waiting for a follow up message from Charles to let him know when exactly he’ll be coming over.
It’s Lando who opens his mouth first at what Max has just informed them about, and the blond feels his heart beat a little faster, scared of what the British man is going to tease him with now — or alternately, which adjective he is going to insult him with. Is there anything else he can call Max besides desperate, pathetic, hopeless, and yearning? Probably there are many more options, but Lando doesn’t know them. It only calms the blond a little.
“Oh, that’s-“ the Brit starts, voice soft enough to sound like he’s going to say ‘nice’ instead of anything offending Max. However, Lando stops himself, his eyes narrowing at his friend and roommate on the other side of the couch. Max’ heart beats faster, and then nearly stops when Lando loudly yells, “No!”
The yell is so full of passion and volume that Alex drops his piece of pizza into his lap and Max nearly drops his phone but manages to hold on to it in the end.
Okay– that’s new. No answer? Yes. An excited answer? Yes. A teasing comment? Hell yes.
This?
Max is concerned.
“Uh? Sorry?” The blond says, not even sure if the ‘no’ was directed at him or at something that happened in the show they were playing for some background noise.
But Lando’s eyes stayed on Max as he vehemently shook his head.
“No,” his index finger joined the gestures of negation, waving around in the air. “Nope. Not tonight. No Charles tonight. I veto.”
Max looks at Alex, looking for help and finding something similar in the way that Alex looks back at him, face equally blank. The brunet shrugs and Max looks back to Lando, bracing himself to find out just what the fuck is going on.
“Uh… Why?”
There’s a short moment of silence in which Lando places down the pizza into the pizza box and then takes a deep breath, putting his hands together before he explains.
“Because he’s loud.”
It’s… A shorter explanation than expected. Max stares at Lando, waiting for more, but there’s nothing. The Brit picks up his pizza again, taking a big bite.
“Um,” Max starts, thinking about what Lando has just said and just responding with the first things that come to his mind. “I don’t really think so… I mean if he talks to Pierre on the phone and they speak French, sure, then it’s a little louder than normal maybe, but… other than that? I’m not sure, I think he speaks normally. You think he’s too loud?”
Now Lando is staring at him, his mouth open with the pizza half-chewed in it. Max can’t help but grimace at the sight.
Without finishing chewing and swallowing, Lando deadpans, “During sex, Max. He’s loud during sex.”
And— oh.
Okay, that’s—
Max' grimace intensifies.
Lando continues, “I have my Thermal Systems exam tomorrow. And it’s a retake, Max. I failed this exam before, I cannot fail it again. And I will fail it–” He finally swallows and immediately lifts the pizza up to his mouth to take another bite, but in the end he thankfully puts it down again in favor of talking clearly. “–if Charles comes over tonight. I will fail this exam again, because Charles Leclerc cannot be quiet.”
Max opens his mouth, ready to defend something he’s not sure he can defend, but Lando quickly shakes his head, signifying he’s not done yet.
“No, no, hear me out. You know I love you and I like Charles, he’s nice, really. But as soon as you touch him — you, Max, I mean you specifically — that guy is as loud as a fucking— I don’t know, a donkey or something. I’m serious, I know all of his sounds. I know when you only start touching him, I know when you’re shoving your tongue down his throat, I know when you put your hand in his pants. God, and I think I can genuinely recreate the noise he makes when you put it in.”
Alex snorts, but schools his face as soon as Max glares at him.
“Don’t,” Max warns when Lando already scrunches his face in a very obscene and ugly imitation of a person during sex. The expression stays on his face, but at least the noise never makes it out.
“Nooo, you don’t! Since I know you two can’t hang out like normal people and always have to act as if you’re in puberty and just discovered that the touch of someone else is better than that of yourself— He cannot come over tonight.”
Max has the decency to blush at that, and once again he tries to find solace with Alex, shooting his Thai roommate another look. But this time, he’s not so lucky, the brunet just shooting him a sympathetic smile.
“Well, to be fair, Lando is kind of right. Charles is very loud and you guys do…” He hesitates, then says, “Sleep with each other a lot.”
It’s quiet except for the noises of Lando chewing and swallowing. Max thinks of something to say.
“But-” He starts, interrupts himself, and starts again. “Why are you only telling me now? Why is it only bothering you now but never before? Charles and I have been– I mean, we’ve been doing this for a while and none of you have ever complained!”
There have been comments, of course. At times, Max has even felt proud whenever the boys used to wonder about how loud Charles was being, and how his noises sometimes lasted over hours. The first time they’d mentioned it, Max had blushed and groaned and just generally felt embarrassed, but even then he couldn’t deny the feeling of satisfaction within him.
The more time Charles spent at their shared apartment, the less Alex, George, and Lando said anything, rather getting used to it.
So it really makes no sense for them to start complaining now. Max frowns at Alex who explains with a small smile, “It’s always okay because I spend most of my time at Lily’s place, George uses his weird malleable earplugs, and Lando…”
They both look at the Brit who says, “My music’s so loud, it drowns out Charles. Or I use my headset and have Max scream into my ears, so it’s fine.” He takes a breath and raises his index finger, “Usually!”
“Yeah, I guess if you really need quiet to sleep or study… Then it’d be better if Charles didn’t come over,” Alex admits, Lando nodding approvingly.
“But-” Max’ phone vibrates in his hand and he looks down at it to find a message from Charles, saying that he’ll be here in half an hour. Max bites his lip and shrugs. “I mean… We’ll just be quiet.”
“No, no, no,” Lando shakes his head, as hard as he had just nodded. “We all know that Charles is incapable of being quiet.”
“Okay, fine,” Max relents. He softly bangs his fist on the table, gentle but determined. “We won’t have sex, then.”
Alex raises his eyebrow about a meter into the air, and Lando has the audacity to snort. Max feels his face heat up. He scrambles to complain, “What? You guys are making it sound as if we’re some kind of nymphomaniacs! Charles and I can just watch TV or play video games. We don’t have to have sex.”
“Sure, and Lando’s not in love with Oscar.”
“Hey! Don’t turn this around on me now! I’m fighting for my sleep and my Thermal Systems grade here!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Alex smiles at the youngest of their apartment, a glint in his eyes. Then he turns back to Max, the glint never vanishing, and Max knows whatever his roommate will say won’t be good. “Why don’t you take Charles out? This is your chance to finally have a proper date with him. And that way you won’t disturb Lando’s beauty sleep.”
Yeah, no, not good at all. That’s territory that everyone in their flat seems to leisurely walk over as if it's a flower meadow while it feels like a minefield to Max.
The blond shakes his head.
“Nope. Charles is already on his way. Maybe next time.” He smiles at Alex, and both of them know exactly that next time it’ll be Charles at their place again, instead of any restaurants or other public outings. Alex’ smile has something pitying. “We’re going to be quiet, trust me.”
With that, Max gets up, done with the conversation and with his roommates. He ignores Alex’ sigh, but Lando’s yell after him is harder to ignore.
“Max, I swear to god if I hear one single moan! I will bang on your door louder and longer than you could ever bang Charles!”
“Got it!” Max yells back, walking up the stairs to his room, “Good night, guys!”
~
“Ugh, Pierre is so annoying!”
Charles lets himself drop down on Max’ king size bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish. Max can’t help but fondly chuckle at the sight that’s become familiar at this point. He’s still standing beside the bed, just watching as Charles closes his eyes with a sigh.
“Yeah? What did he do?”
“Mhm, he-” Charles begins to speak but stops himself, opening his eyes with a frown. He looks to Max, noticing how he’s still standing, and reaches out for him with grabby hands. Only once Max is grabbing his hands and stepping closer to join him in bed, does Charles continue talking. “He’s meeting with Yuki tonight. The Japanese exchange student. For their project.”
Max lays down on the bed and in a practiced motion they shift around until the Dutchman is lying on his back, head against the headboard with Charles in his arm, head on his shoulder and his arm around Max’ torso. The Monégasque slots one of his legs in between Max’, letting out another satisfied sigh once they’re settled.
“Okay? What’s annoying about that? Isn’t it nice to have the apartment to yourself?” Max asks, not sure what the problem is. He, for one, would love to not have his roommates home.
“Yeah, but we’re supposed to watch Frenchie Shore tonight!”
Max has to laugh at that. Of course Charles would be mad at Pierre for choosing uni work over their favorite French reality TV show. Max is embarrassed to say that he had watched an entire season of I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! – against his will, of course. He’s also dreading the time when Big Brother UK will start and Charles will inevitably force him to watch that trashy show, too. Max, of course, will gladly watch it as long as there’s a brunet Monégasque slotted at his side.
“Mhm, that sucks. Can’t believe Pierre would put uni over Frenchie Shore,” Max says, hoping he sounds sympathetic.
“I mean, the deadline is today at midnight, so I guess it’s justified, but still,” Charles huffs angrily, and Max is only a little sad that he can’t see the expression on his face from his angle. He bets it’s really cute, though. “I bet they’ve finished the project already. They’ve met so many times and Pierre has worked on it a lot at home, too. So I bet they’re not even doing anything for uni but they’re fucking.”
“You think so?” Max frowns. He knows way too much about Charles’ roommate and best friend, and all that knowledge does not accumulate to the Frenchman and his Japanese crush being that far already. Charles would have surely told him as soon as he found out that his best friend had finally made a move, so what he’s saying now sounds a little unrealistic.
“No,” Charles grumbles. He moves his hand under Max’ shirt to gently rest on his stomach, a habit that Max had needed some getting used to at first; his skin always jumping under the ticklish touch that now only felt grounding. “Pierre was really excited because Yuki texted him first today. But still, it’s mean to see him instead of Frenchie Shore.”
Max says nothing to that. Honestly, he’s kind of on Pierre’s side for that one, and not only because he thinks that reality TV turns your brain to mush. Max has half the decency to feel bad about the many times that he has ditched his own friends because Charles had said that he was only free one day during the week, and he’d wanted to see him so badly. For Pierre it must be even worse, considering the guy he was into was only in the country for so long.
None of these thoughts get voiced though, because Max knows that Charles would sulk and pout and complain why Max wasn’t on his side. It’s incredibly adorable, really, but chances are too high that the Monégasque will also get up and sit on the desk chair instead of lying in Max' arms, and that’s just something that Max can’t bear. So he keeps his mouth shut.
Instead of speaking, he presses a kiss to Charles’ head, the delicious smell of his citrus shampoo wafting up to Max’ nose. Max kisses the soft hair again.
“Oh!” Charles suddenly jerks, sitting up and nearly hitting Max’ nose with his head. The blond immediately reaches up to put his hand on Charles’ hip, steadying him even if he wasn’t wavering or anything. He looks expectantly at the architecture student. Charles grins, “We could watch Frenchie Shore! As revenge! Then Pierre will have to watch it all alone and he will learn from it.”
I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! was bad enough as it was, Max is not sure if he can take a similarly trashy show in French. He quickly comes up with an argument against it.
“I don’t know, Charlie. Think about it, Pierre will be really sad if he has to watch it alone. And it’s already in the middle of the season, no? So I don’t know anything about it,” Max keeps speaking when he sees Charles already opening his mouth to interrupt, “Yes, I know you could explain everything to me but that’s not as much fun as watching it with someone who knows all the drama by heart already. And someone who actually understands what the people are saying…”
Charles visibly considers this for a moment before he nods and goes to lie back down, pressing a quick kiss to Max’ lips on the way. He’s pouting only a little.
“You’re right. Then maybe we should watch something else.”
Charles sounds sad and disappointed, and Max thinks about offering to watch the original Jersey Shore with him to make him happy. But maybe the Monégasque will come to a better conclusion, so Max waits and asks, “What do you want to watch?”
The hand is back on his belly, rubbing small circles into the warm skin and occasionally scratching at it gently.
“I don’t know,” Charles sighs. “I don’t really want to watch anything.”
“Okay,” Max nods even though Charles can’t see it. “Then what do you want to do?”
They don’t really have to do anything – most of the time, they don’t.
They’ll watch a movie, or a TV show. Sometimes they play video games, and sometimes, even though that’s rather rare with how late in the evening Charles mostly comes by, they’ll cook together.
Most often, they’ll just talk.
Charles likes to talk and Max likes to listen. They’re a good match and Max really doesn’t mind hearing about Charles’ roommate Pierre or his brother Arthur or even his favorite professor Mr. Vettel. It’s entertaining and it’s always with Charles being so close, in his arms, sometimes fully on top of him, or spooning. Limbs entangled as well as their hands. So really, Max could listen to Charles forever.
Just when the blond expects Charles to start telling a story about something or someone, signifying that he was fine with just talking and cuddling instead of doing much else, the brunet turns in Max’ arms so that they’re face to face.
Like a magnet drawn to its opposite pole, Max looks at Charles’ lips and the younger is quick to take pity, surging forward to press another chaste kiss to his lips.
Max wants more, needs more, but Charles’ face is out of reach again.
He’s smiling down at the Dutchman, a glint in his eyes, one that Max has seen oh so many times by now. He feels the corresponding flip in his stomach already.
“I can think of something else we could do,” Charles starts low and his voice drops lower, barely a whisper in the end. It’s no problem – acoustically – because Charles brings their faces closer again, until their lips are almost brushing.
It’s Max who closes the distance, his hand coming to the back of Charles’ neck, pulling him in and crashing their lips together in a searing kiss.
The Monégasque kisses back as fiercely, and without breaking the kiss, he shifts around until he’s straddling Max’ lap. They keep making out, Max’ hand still at Charles’ neck, the other on his hip, holding him tightly.
The realization comes when Charles wiggles his hips, grinding down on Max’ crotch and feeling his semi against his ass. The brunet moans loudly into Max’ mouth, and fuck.
Max immediately pulls back, both hands now gripping Charles’ hips to hold him still despite how much he’d love to push him down in his lap, feel the pressure of the other man again.
Charles’ eyes stay closed for a moment longer before he opens them again, his eyebrows creasing.
“What?” he pants, voice not clear but raspy.
Max clears his throat to avoid the same condition. His voice is clear, but his message maybe not so much when he says, “We can’t.”
Charles stares at him as if he’s trying to figure out what language Max is speaking, only to end up repeating himself, “What?”
“We can’t-” Max wants to explain but he gets rudely interrupted by another rotation of Charles’ hips, having his semi quickly turning into a full hard-on. Charles bats his lashes at Max.
“What do you mean we can’t?” he asks sweetly, and maybe Max should be more concerned about his own noises.
“It’s- Lando-” Max takes a deep breath, trying to focus and not just rip Charles’ clothes off of him. He’s a considerate roommate, he tells himself while taking another breath. “He’s- He has an important exam tomorrow. He needs to sleep. He asked me to be quiet. I- We should respect that. It’s a retake exam. So, that’s- That’s important.”
Charles stares at Max some more – looking into his eyes, not his lips. It makes Max a little nervous.
“Are you-” the brunet speaks finally, pulling back a little further. Max’ heart is beating a little too fast for what’s happening. His fingers flex around Charles’ hips, itching to pull him in again as the younger man starts again, “Are you serious?”
Max cringes and nods. “Yeah. He said- The guys, they said that we,” – you – Max thinks but doesn’t say, “-are quite loud sometimes.”
There’s a quiet moment as Charles considers Max’ words before he nods. “Okay.”
Okay? Max frowns. What’s okay?
Is it that easy? I can’t be that easy, not with Charles Leclerc. Max searches his face, finding nothing. Why isn’t he complaining? Whining? Pouting?
Something has got to be wrong and Max is concerned until Charles leans in again, arms around Max’ neck, bringing their lips close until they’re touching.
“Then we’ll be quiet.”
He’s kissing Max then, tongue licking into his mouth, hot and wet, and Max takes way too long to get his mind on track. It pains him deeply to break the hot kiss but Lando’s just in the next room.
Not that it has ever stopped them before but– today’s the day.
“Charles- No. We-” – you – “-can’t be quiet. It’s- We’re not very good at that. So-”
Max can’t stand to look at Charles while saying it, so he looks at his duvet instead, crumpled up on the bed beside them. “We shouldn’t do anything tonight.”
Again, it’s quiet for a second.
Then, a long drawn-out, “Maaax.”
Ah, there it is, Max thinks. Charles whines his name, a pout on his plush lips. “Come on, that’s no fun! We’re not watching Frenchie Shore, we’re not having any other fun.”
His hips grind meanly, and Max has to hold tight, not sure if he’s encouraging the movements or denying them. He has to drop his hands away completely when Charles’ whining evolves into a low moan. That’s exactly what he’s trying to avoid.
“Charles.”
“Come on, Max, please. We won’t do a lot. Just- Feel me.” He’s mean. Truly demonic, with the way he takes Max’ hand, that he had just rescued from Charles’ dangerous hips to the safety of his bed. Charles takes that poor hand and brings it to his own crotch.
It’s basically on auto-pilot, the way Max’ fingers wrap around Charles’ cock then, over his soft pants just where the brunet had placed his hand.
Charles makes a noise – a mix between a whine and a moan – and even from that, Max can hear how he tries.
He’s still loud, Lando can probably still hear him, but it’s not- as loud.
Still, Max drops his hand after palming over Charles’ hard-on a couple of times. The whine at the loss of contact is no more quiet than usual, and Max has to bite his lip.
God, this is turning into a small catastrophe. Maybe taking Charles out to dinner would have been easier after all.
“Max, please. I’ll be so quiet, I promise. But please,” he grinds down again, digging his fingers into Max’ shoulders, thumb near Max’ neck, close to the spot that he knows makes the blond go crazy. “We won’t even use lube. Or condoms. Nothing intense, please.”
As if the sound of a bottle of lube being opened or a package of condoms being ripped open was what disturbed his roommates’ sleep. Max would snort if he wasn’t trying his best to distract himself from the pressure on his cock.
“What do you want to do then?”
It’s not a lot, no explicit ‘yes’ from Max. Yet, Charles lights up.
His eyes shine and in hurried motions he’s lifting his hips up so he can take off his pants and underwear in one go, the clothes falling to the floor. Then, just as fast, he’s pulling at Max’ pants, nearly violent with his hands as he drags them down his legs.
Max helps by lifting his own hips and pulling off his boxers until they’re both naked from the waist down. Charles doesn’t bother with their shirts, sitting back down on Max’ lap, this time not as close but rather in a way that their cocks are aligned. He looks down at them, where Max’ cock is a bit bigger even with the lower position that he’s in.
“Like that,” Charles says, still staring down at them as he blindly reaches for Max’ hand again. He leads it to wrap around both of them at the same time, moaning when they touch and repeating, “Like that.”
“Charles,” Max warns, his hand’s movement contradicting his tone. “You have to be quiet. I won’t continue if you’re not quiet.”
Actually listening, Charles presses his lips together tightly, nodding frantically as his hips twitch forward. Max reacts by making his fist around them tighter, and he has to concentrate hard to stay quiet himself.
Charles’ hand comes to cover his own, not really guiding him but just supporting his stroking.
It doesn’t take long until precome is building at both their tips, wetting the slide and making the motions a bit smoother and better. With a whimper Charles falls forward, his face burrowing in Max’ neck, panting heavily with pleasure and the effort of keeping still.
Max presses a kiss to the hot skin of Charles’ neck and bucks his hips, fucking up into his fist and against Charles’ cock.
It makes the Monégasque whimper again, volume rising dangerously. The younger pulls back a little, looking at where Max is jerking them both off, a moan slipping past his lips. Max would be concerned by it, really, but when he lets out a breath it’s with much more voice than anticipated, turning into a groan that’s maybe even a little louder than Charles’.
Audaciously enough, Max follows up with a shaky, “Shhh.”
“So good,” Charles whispers, sounding nearly frantic even when his voice doesn’t have any real tone to it.
Max knows exactly how he’d be moaning that sentence out loud if it were any other night.
“Yeah– Feels good, fuck, schatje.” He barely registers the pet name and if he wasn’t close to coming, Max would surely be panicking about it, and Charles’ reaction.
However, it doesn’t seem like Charles is even listening to him, considering the way his chest is heaving, hips twitching uncontrollably as he squeezes his fingers around Max’ hand.
“I’m– Max, I’m– Can’t–”
Max’ brain registers Charles’ words a bit delayed. He’s going to come; so much is clear from how he’s writhing, the fingers of his other hand digging into Max’ scalp.
But he can’t– what? Max wonders about it, when he realizes what.
It’s a downright pornographic moan, Charles’ body going rigid for a second as his mouth opens and he’s having a shaking orgasm.
He can’t be quiet.
Max would clamp his hand over the brunet’s mouth if he wasn’t coming at that exact moment, feeling his own orgasm wash over him, just as Charles’ cock was still spurting come all over their hands.
He tries his best to be quiet but an animalistic grunt escapes him as he slows his strokes, riding out his high while making Charles whimper with over-sensitivity.
Once both their hands, and both of their shirts, are properly soiled, Max lets go, using his clean hand to pull Charles in for a soft kiss.
The Monégasque kisses back, just as softly, but he’s quick to pull back again, needing to take deep breaths to calm down.
With a loud groan he rolls himself off Max’ lap and falls down on the bed dramatically.
“Hmm, I’ve never had such quiet sex,” he says, yawning immediately after.
Max looks at Charles, then at his dirty hand. He wipes it relatively clean on his shirt. It’ll have to be thoroughly washed anyway.
Looking back at Charles, Max thinks about what he’s said. Yeah, with him he’s surely never been that quiet, not even when they slept together for the first time, not yet knowing each other’s bodies. The thought inevitably spirals into Charles having sex with other guys, and Max frowns. He hates thinking about that and quickly speaks to drown out his own mind.
“It wasn’t really that quiet.”
“You think so?” Charles looks at Max with a crease between his eyes. “We didn’t make a single noise! I bet if it had been completely dark and there was someone in the room with us, they would not have known what we just did.”
Max stares at Charles, contemplating whether the man is really that delusional or if he's just fucking with him. It’s quiet until Max shakes his head, “No. No, they would have definitely known. Lando isn’t even in the room and he probably knows.”
“You think he heard?” Max nods, having to be honest with himself, and Charles just shrugs, “Maybe he’s already asleep.”
“Yeah, maybe…” He’s most definitely not. Max knows Lando’s sleeping rhythm and even if he has an exam early in the morning, it won’t make the Brit go to bed hours earlier than usual just one night before. “I mean, at least he’s not kicking down the door so I think that’s a good sign.”
“Yeah!” Charles smiles, reaching his hand out to intertwine his fingers with Max’. “Don’t worry so much, I don’t think he’ll be mad. I think he likes me.”
Max can’t help but smile back, squeezing Charles’ fingers. “Everyone likes you,” he says, reveling in the bright grin Charles shoots him at the words.
“I know.”
The words are so pretentious, but the reality isn’t. Because it’s true.
Max leans forward to catch Charles’ lips in another kiss.
It’s for fun, the kiss, but it’s also because Max needs to occupy his mouth before he says something stupid. Something along the lines of ‘I like you, too. So much’. Possibly worse. Max kisses Charles some more.
They clean up finally, putting on clean shirts and boxers, brushing their teeth before they fall back into bed.
“Do you have Building Physics tomorrow?” Max doesn’t really have to ask, he knows Charles’ schedule by heart. But who knows, maybe the professor is sick. And maybe Max doesn’t want Charles to think he’s obsessed.
“Mhm,” the Monégasque hums, nodding against Max’ chest. The blond draws silly patterns over the shirt covering Charles’ side.
“Did you set your alarm?” To that one Max also knows the answer, considering how many times they’ve woken up around forenoon, Charles panicking because he was too late for class before deciding that it wasn’t worth attending anyway and sleeping some more.
As expected, Charles shakes his head, with a declining, “Mh-mh.” He blinks up at Max, eyes soft and tired. “You do it?”
Max feels his heart melt in his chest. Charles always gets so lazy after sex, it’s adorable and Max would do anything for him in that state. He twists his body, reaching for his phone and switching on the alarm at 7 am that’s already saved as ‘Charles Building Physics Class’.
He makes sure that his phone’s volume is turned up enough before putting the phone back on the nightstand and turning off the light.
“Alright, alarm’s set. Good night, Charles,” Max turns back and presses one last, firm kiss to the brunet’s cheek.
“Good night, Max,” the younger replies quietly, stretching to kiss Max’ lips before turning away from him, shifting back to press his body to Max’ front. With almost practiced movements, he reaches behind himself to grab Max’ arm, pulling it around himself, then entwining their fingers and holding their hands against his chest.
There’s one last deep sigh from him, and Max buries his face in Charles’ soft, citrusy hair.
He falls asleep with a dumb smile on his face– as he always does when there’s a brunet Monégasque in his bed at night.
~
The alarm blares at 7 am sharp, just as set.
Max stirs first, instinctively pulling Charles closer at first, before realizing that he has to move in the other direction to turn off the offending noise. With a low groan he does so.
The Dutchman goes right back to pressing up against Charles’ warm body.
“Morning,” he rasps, pressing a lazy kiss to the back of Charles’ neck which happens to be the closest part to his lips.
The younger man whines, no greeting coming from him but rather a complaint, as always when he gets woken up by the alarm instead of the natural alarm clock of his body.
“I don’t want to go.”
Max hums against his skin, kissing it some more. He slowly moves from the back of Charles’ neck gradually to the side of it, each kiss gaining a little more consciousness with how he wakes up more and more.
“I know.”
There’s another whine, then Charles is turning to face Max. He blinks blearily at him and Max looks right back, smiling at the sight in front of him. A twin smile breaks out on Charles’ face and it’s not long before the brunet inches closer to kiss Max.
Max is smart, and a little selfish, so he intentionally puts the alarm earlier than needed, just so he can enjoy the warmth and bliss of the morning with Charles in his arms, exchanging some lazy kisses. He’d do it even if they had to get up at 5 am.
It’s Charles who breaks their soft making out by pecking Max’ lips once, twice, then some more times before he finally pulls back.
“What’s the time?” he asks, looking all over Max’ face as if it’s an analogue clock.
Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, Max blinks at it and reports back.
“7.20.”
Charles groans, turning onto his back before sitting up. “I have to go.”
Despite the statement, the Monégasque makes no move to actually get up. Max uses the chance to slide his hand under Charles’ – his – shirt, stroking along his back, savoring the content hum from the younger.
“Want me to get up with you? I can make you something to eat.”
Every morning that they spend together, Max will offer, and every time, Charles will deny with a tired shake of his head, telling Max to, “Sleep some more for me.”
Charles doesn’t really have breakfast when it’s so early in the morning, and he’s quick to get ready in the bathroom so Max listens and doesn’t move, his hand still running along Charles’ smooth back.
“Okay. Take anything you need.”
“Oui. Yeah.” Charles blinks some more into the room, before crawling out of the bed, collecting his clothes from the floor. Max watches him.
“Have fun in class,” he mumbles, not sure what else to say. He’s stopped saying ‘I’m glad you came over’ a while ago, thinking it would start sounding fake if he said it every time Charles was over. It’s not fake though, Max is always glad.
“Sure,” Charles replies dryly. He’s already moving to leave, and it makes Max panic. He stretches out his arm, reaching for the man.
Charles shoots him a soft smile at the gesture, obliging and leaning down to press a kiss to Max’ lips.
The blond is quick, maybe a remnant from his days in karting, gently grabbing Charles’ face and holding him close, not letting go after just one kiss. It’s early and he’s sleepy and Charles has got to go, but Max deepens the kiss anyway, never able to let Charles go with just a peck.
It’s some deeply rooted fear that he has to give a lasting impression to the Monégasque before he goes back out into the world outside of Max’ bedroom, without him.
“Goodbye,” Max whispers when they finally part and Charles smiles still.
“See you,” he responds chirpily, sounding much more awake now. With Max’ shirt still on, he closes the bedroom door and descends the stairs to their bathroom.
Max falls back into a light but cozy sleep, ignoring the mingling voices of Charles and whoever of his roommates are up already.
Roughly two hours later, Max finds himself in the kitchen, joining Alex who’s fixing himself some breakfast.
“Morning,” Max mumbles, getting a more chipper, ‘good morning’ back from his Thai roommate.
Max sits down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Lando’s gone already?” he asks, hoping his tone is casual and unsuspicious. “When’s his exam?”
“At 9.30 I think,” Alex says, focused on his food on the stove.
Max looks at the clock on the wall. It’s barely past nine, so the Brit couldn’t have left too long ago. He inquires further, “So you still saw him?”
Alex turns around, leaning against the counter with something sizzling behind him. His answer is just a tiny bit delayed but Max notices and internally cringes.
“Yeah.”
Max crumbles, “Was he mad?”
There it is, Alex smiles.
Waking up the second time, without Charles securely in his arms, had him think about his roommate more clearly. Yesterday, with both their lengths in his hand, the noise hadn’t sounded so bad – but now, reflecting back on it without pleasure clouding his mind, Max felt bad. They had been quite inconsiderate and he’d fully understand Lando if he hated him a little now.
“No, he was cuddling with Charles earlier.”
“What?” Max’ mouth is much quicker than his mind and he hates the way Alex’ smile turns into an amused grin. He shrugs.
“Yeah, like, I don’t know. They were drinking coffee and sitting close to each other, giggling about something. So I don’t think Lando was mad. At least not at Charles, and he’s usually the loud one.”
“Ah,” is all that Max responds with. That’s okay… Probably. Max shakes his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts of Charles saying that he thinks Lando likes him. There’s no way he meant like-like, right?
“You don’t want to eat anything? I’m making French toast, you can have some.”
Alex is a great roommate, and Max might be a little rude when he shakes his head and gets up. He had come downstairs with the prospect of breakfast but now he wants to get back into his bed.
“No thanks. I’ll eat something later.”
Alex just shrugs and turns back to his food.
Back in his bed that’s much too big and cold, Max takes his phone and opens the chat with Lando. He should still be on his way to uni.
You
Good luck on your exam
On his way and on his phone, it seems with how quick the Brit texts back.
Lando
thx mate 😘
Okay, that truly didn’t sound like he was mad at Max. Another message came it and backed the feeling up.
Lando
look who im on the bus with 😍😍😍
img_19283
It’s a selfie of Lando grinning into the camera with Charles right beside him, smiling happily. His cheek is not quite pressed to the other’s face, but it’s close enough. Max is torn between being terribly jealous and terribly enamored with Charles’ deep dimples.
Max
👍
It’s a good point to stop the conversation. Max can just mark the selfie with a star so he can come back to Charles’ bright smile if he ever feels like it, and Lando can channel concentration for his exam.
But the Brit keeps texting.
Lando
charlie made me coffee this morning
he’d be such a god boyfriend
good* lol
if u dont ask him out soon, mybe i will ;)
And Max knows Lando is teasing. It’s a joke, he would never do this. His fingers are similar to his mouth, however, and he types without much control from his mind.
You
I hope you fail your exam
Lando knows him well enough, thank God.
Lando
LOL no u dont ❤️❤️
u put so much effort in me getting a good sleep!
i know u didn’t put it in
i didn’t hear the ‘Max just penetrated me’ moan
so i’m really proud of u guys ❤️❤️❤️
Max stares at his phone in disbelief, disgust, and some relief. He’s been roommates with Lando for more than a year now, and he’s known him even longer. He’s just hoping that Charles isn’t reading the conversation next to the Brit.
Lando
i did hear you two btw just not THAT loud
still need to figure out what those noises meant 🤔
did u gag him? 😱😏😉
Max is about to toss his phone out of the window, really. He pointedly ignores the way his dick gives a small kick at the thought of a gagged Charles.
He needs to end this conversation.
You
Text me when the exam is over.
Lando
oki dad 🫡
want me to give Charles a kiss from u? 👨❤️💋👨
The Dutchman cannot grant Lando the satisfaction of an actual answer to that. So, he only reacts with a middle finger emoji to the message before putting his phone down on the bed beside him.
He can’t help the sour feeling at the thought of Charles sitting next to Lando on the bus, laughing about whatever bullshit the Brit is saying. He might be down bad.
Max stares at the ceiling of his room and ends up groaning to – and about – himself; now at least without having to worry about his roommate being disturbed by the noise. He hopes Lando does well on his exam, really.