1

Max

Max is not stupid. Max is a lot of things, some may say he's stubborn, hot-headed, ambitious. But Max likes to think he would know if something drastic were to change in his only son's life.

So when his teenage son casually interrupts their weekly Friday movie night with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, Max steels his facial expression and tunes out whatever trashy romance was droning on in front of them.

"So," Kimi begins slowly. Max notices the high schooler vaguely gesturing around the air with his non-buttery hand. Kimi grabs a few popcorn kernels, absently chewing on them. Max keeps his eyes trained on the screen and hums noncommittally. "Liam asked out Arvid the other day." Kimi's knee twitches slightly against the couch.

"Yeah?" Max tries to keep his voice relaxed. The Dutchman has been parenting this boy for 16 years. Changed his stinky diapers. Waited out his screaming tantrums. Max knows instinctually this is very much a sort of monumental moment in Kimi's adolescence. Knows that the names of Kimi's Advanced Engineering classmates are currently acting as temporary placeholders for names Kimi isn't ready to discuss yet. When Max glances over, Kimi's eyes are predictably mirroring his father's previous empty stare at the television. As much as Max would like to have this conversation face-to-face on the dining table, he knows all he can do is follow Kimi's lead. Max turns back to the movie. "What'd he say?"

"Arvid said yes." On the screen, the actress wails her distress over her oblivious love interest. Max really wishes he could be as vocal as she is right now. He clenches a fist, releases it, and patiently keeps his mouth shut. Kimi lets out a quiet breath. "They're dating now."

To reiterate: Max is not an idiot. He knew exactly where this was going about two weeks ago when his son's best friend sat in his kitchen and asked for Max's pasta sauce recipe. Nobody that ever tries Max's pasta sauce genuinely likes it. It's Kimi's favourite comfort food.

The main actress in the movie is currently singing a musical number about one-sided love and hazel eyes. It's not very good — the lyrics are outrageous and her singing voice is so much flatter than her speaking voice. Kimi's head subtly twists over to him before he grabs a handful of popcorn to chew on quietly.

Max thinks about what's in the fridge right now. Habits of being the only adult in the house. He really needs to buy eggs soon.

Max is a pretty patient person. He can wait for people to be ready. But Max also already knows what's about to happen, rehearsed what he wants to say to Kimi about a thousand times over now. There's a reason why parenting exists — children absorbing the life lessons of their guardians so that the same mistakes don't repeat themselves. Evolution of the people, or whatever.

"Would— … Don't you think they're a bit young?" Kimi's voice remains level and calm. And wow, Max really needs to talk to Kimi about how to word his important questions in the future. Later, after this.

Max swallows. Teenage relationships are a topic that has viscerally haunted this household for seventeen years. It’s about time they talked about it like it wasn't a ghost they pretended not to grieve for.

"I think… they must know how much responsibility it takes if they want it to last long."

Max is 35 years old. He has a 16 year old biological child. Kimi was an accident 18-year-old Max made that, to put it simply, ruined all his dreams and uprooted the rest of his life. Don't get him wrong, Max loves Kimi to death. Wouldn't trade meeting him for anything in the world. Max spent fourteen years trying to chase a trophy but he's ended up in a quaint flat in Monaco spending his Friday nights watching trashy romance movies with his son, and the rest of his nights living out old dreams virtually on a livestream. It's not exactly what he was hoping for his future self at nineteen, but he's very much content.

"As long as they don't regret it. I think as long as they know that this is the right decision, then I'll be happy for them. And if it turns out it wasn't, I'll also support them through that too."

There's an almost silent whoosh of air on the other side of the couch, like a hitch in someone's breath. Max breathes slowly, a controlled rhythm he's perfected through years of attempting to present himself as a normal, calm human being.

Max has no idea what's happening on the screen, lost the plot as soon as Kimi broke the silence in what feels like eons ago, but was likely only 5 minutes ago. But, if their Friday nights have taught him anything about this type of cinema, the main actress is probably devastated, getting married right about now to a man her parents decided they liked enough. Symbolic, or something, of the consequences of not taking the initiative to follow your heart when the world fights against you.

But this trashy romance doesn't actually apply to their current predicament. In their case, Kimi has already made the leap and followed his heart, and is instead wrapping his head around the mess that might follow. And see, the world isn't against those two — or at least Max isn't.

There was probably — no, definitely — a time 16 years ago when Max looked into the eyes of a screaming, pink infant, and wished he could turn back time and take it all back. A dark time, where he lay in bed next to the stiff back of his almost-lover and thought of taking the baby to an adoption centre. Wiping his hands of it so he could slide his racing gloves back on again. Max was nineteen, and thought no teenager should ever have to even consider something like this, willingly or not, because it would be hell on Earth.

Max is not nineteen anymore. He knows now that he couldn't have been more wrong.

They're both still locked in a perpetual staring contest with the illuminated screen. Maybe all the important Verstappen family conversations should happen on Friday movie nights now. God knows the duo is apparently terrible at eye contact while emotionally vulnerable.

"Get over here." Max sighs. Kimi scrambles to set the bowl of popcorn off his lap and crawl over the couch cushions. As Kimi settles into Max's arms, the world slots back into alignment. Kimi lets out a tiny exhale and Max spends the rest of the movie with his fingers splayed over his teenage son's back.

Teenage brains are weird, Max thinks. But whatever neurons are firing away through Kimi's head that are preventing him from telling his dad about his relationship, Max is okay with it. Kimi will tell him when he's ready, and when that happens, they can have this conversation without using Kimi's classmates as some strange metaphorical allegory.

"Papa, can Ollie come over on Wednesday?"

Max breathes out another sigh.

"Yeah, sure."

Max should go buy those eggs on Wednesday morning. You know, so he can supervise the kids the rest of the afternoon. Make sure they're actually doing homework or playing games and not, like, plotting world domination, or something. Yeah.

2

Arthur

Arthur taps on his phone, waiting under a tree as the streets of Monaco bustle around him. It's a much needed rest from the adrenaline of his job, and he's glad he still has the time to visit his brother and his favourite nephews away from all the trophy chasing. Because Arthur is dreading the day Oscar eventually makes it out of Alpine's reserve seat and overtakes his ancient uncle on track. But at the same time he can't wait for that day to come.

Charles finally approaches, breaking his younger brother out of his thoughts. Arthur knows his big brother sometimes even better than he knows himself, so Arthur can tell exactly what's up before Charles even opens his mouth.

"Bad day?" Arthur braces for the unfiltered rant he's sure to receive in about 2 milliseconds. He starts walking down the familiar streets. Charles falls into step next to him.

"Terrible! God!" Charles heaves out a breath and jumps straight into his frustrated word vomit.

Arthur nods, listening attentively, because he now knows the consequences of tuning out his brother, but honestly it's still hard to follow the thought train anywhere.

Something about the supermarket, something about a random stranger, Arthur has no idea. He still adds whatever input Charles seems to want from him when Charles glances over pointedly, and all is well with the two thirds of the Leclerc brothers.

Quickly, Charles runs out of steam and his rambling slows down to a rhythmic grumble and he predictably tries to cover up any room for Arthur to laugh at his antics by easing back into their typical conversation.

How is Oscar, how is Alpine, how is Ferrari, how is the car, the usual checkpoints. They're a familiar dance, the same words repeated over and over on every iteration. You might think the brothers would get bored of it, want to jump to the juicier conversations that follow after this ritual, but Arthur knows it's much deeper than small talk.

They're telling each other they care, asking to check in. It's saying "are you alright these days?" without saying those words because the answer will be evident in each other's reactions to their ritual.

When they were younger, they would never think to do this. But they're not that young anymore. Arthur has a wife, a daughter, and a cupboard filled with the results of not seeing them for half the week.

Charles has two sons, a mortgage, and an empty hole in his heart that in another universe, would've held dreams of fast cars and a cupboard like Arthur's.

Arthur asks about Alex.

There's an unexpected silence so Arthur glances over.

"We didn't work out," is what Charles eventually settles on.

That's the way it is, being an adult. You try to remember what's happening in your brother's life, but the frequency you see each other means a lot of it quickly becomes outdated information. But that's okay. Arthur is just thankful he has moments like these where his brother can fill in the blanks with him.

They're Leclercs. They try their best talk about their feelings with their loved ones. So Arthur asks for more.

Charles tells him slowly, reasons for the break-up that he reveals in measured steps. As if he's retelling the chapter of Alex to his little brother in a way that leaves Arthur time to still love her. To not find the fault in her, exactly, but in the spaces in between. Charles is right; Alex was never really a villain. Her only flaw was breaking his brother's heart, and it will remain a flaw but never a mistake.

Because the reason is something Charles is deeply familiar with. Alex has dreams. Aspirations too big to fit next to a man with two sons and a mortgage. So Charles let Alex travel the world and follow trails of art and history and the chapter of their relationship closed.

They move onto lighter things. Arthur's woes of being a new parent, of Lorenzo and Charlotte's barbeque party.

Charles is in a lighter mood, talking about his latest job and how he solved an issue with the stairs in his design, when Arthur spots a familiar figure across the street.

Arthur's eyes widen, because it's very much Ollie. Ollie, as in, Charles' teenage son Ollie. Ollie, as in, Ollie-who's-supposed-to-be-waiting-at-home-Ollie. Arthur is just about to nudge his brother to stop walking and confront the boy, before he sees who's standing with him.

And standing with him is not exactly the best way to describe it. No, Ollie and Kimi Verstappen are very much hugging and their faces are tilted together in a way that very much screams boyfriends rather than best friends. Arthur recalls the shorter boy as being Ollie's soccer teammate turned best mate, with Ollie often chattering about stories of their adventures to his uncle Arthur.

The pair embrace for a few long seconds before it's evident that it was a parting hug, and Ollie is stumbling away with a final wave and frantically checking his watch.

Ollie mutters what Arthur lipreads as a curse, before jogging away in the same direction the two brothers are headed.

Surprisingly, Charles still hasn't noticed his seventeen-year-old youngest child on the other side of the street. Ollie's figure eventually turns down a road out of sight.

"So, how's your youngest these days?" Arthur looks over at Charles, and whoever might've said becoming a single dad ruined his life was clearly lying. Charles' face lights up in the same way whenever someone shows any interest in his baby boys.

When they eventually reach the apartment, Ollie is in the shower. Oscar, who Arthur sees much more often than Ollie because of their respective jobs, is still thrilled to see his uncle visit. The tiny boy that used to collide with his legs as soon as he stepped through the doorway exists now as a man that walks over calmly and claps him into a loose embrace. Arthur still ruffles his hair and presses a kiss onto his temple. Oscar fakes a gag and breaks out the hug, Arthur laughing obnoxiously.

Charles frets over the two, his typical mother hen tendencies surfacing as he smooths down Oscar's tousled hair, no matter that he's very much 21 years old and drives a car at 200 kilometres an hour for a living.

Ollie emerges from the steaming bathroom, drying his hair and greeting his uncle with the same routine as his brother.

The little family giggles and chatters before Charles turns to his eldest.

"So Oscar, did Ollie behave himself?"

Oscar smirks at the youngest, who seems to shrink his shoulders a little and stare at Oscar with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Yep, he was all good."

Charles hums jovially and flutters away into the kitchen to unpack his groceries. Arthur watches Ollie lightly smack his brother's arm before they both follow to help their dad.

Arthur realises it's very much not his place to tell Charles that he thinks his youngest son is dating his best friend. Ollie will just have to tell his oblivious father on his own.

3

Georgia

Georgia understands the familiarity of this routine now.

She's currently sat on a bar stool in the Verstappen kitchen, her usual perch every few months to stare in tense quiet as Max busies himself in the fridge. They've figured out by now, despite the scarcity of her visits, that leaving the silence to sit uncomfortably is much better than the alternative.

Georgia taps a quiet beat onto the counter as she waits for the reason she visits to walk through the door.

She doesn't have to wait long — let's face it, her timing is impeccable — before the door clicks unlocked and a pair of shoes shuffle about. There's a familiar pause of realisation at the shoe rack, before Kimi is bounding into the kitchen and into Georgia's arms.

"Mama, hello!" Kimi is positively vibrating, telling her about her recent races as if Georgia wasn't literally there herself, yammering on about school and soccer and video games.

This is Georgia's favourite part of the breaks. In the corner of her vision, Georgia sees the subtle crinkle of Max's eyes at their son's antics — one of the only feelings they seem to share in common these days. There also exists clenched fingers and the tense line of his shoulders, so Georgia is not deceived.

Like clockwork, Max quietly leaves the apartment and breathes in the air of the Monegasque streets. Not for the first time, Georgia watches Kimi staring at the closing door in reserved understanding and wonders how Max has raised such a beautiful child.

For all she hates about Max, Georgia can at least appreciate the tenacity it would take for one to abandon his life's dreams to care for another human being he didn't ask for.

She lets Kimi bumble away to unpack his school bag and get changed.

Georgia had just gone to the bathroom and made herself tea when she walks into the living room with Kimi texting someone. She lingers in the doorway and gazes at her son.

Kimi has a certain twinkle in his eyes that Georgia hasn't had a chance to see before. Not for the first time, Georgia feels the surge of what she recognises as jealousy simmer under her skin. She's jealous of Max for probably seeing this twinkle before. For being around enough to have the chance of seeing it at least, probably even talking about it.

Oh well, no time like the present.

"Who you texting, bud?" Georgia sips from the cup she's holding before padding over to sit on the couch.

Kimi's eyes flounder a bit, but smothers his panic easily, slowly clicking his phone off and lowering it on the coffee table.

"Just Ollie," Kimi states, gently shrugging a shoulder. Just his best friend. Just his soccer teammate. Just Ollie. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Georgia nods. She's definitely the type to dance around the questions she wants to ask slowly, but the frequency at which she sees her son has taught her to ask things plainly. Because she has a job where her next visit to the Verstappens may be her last.

"So. Any girls lately?"

"Not really." Kimi is either really good at acting, or is just completely dense. Georgia sends her prayers to the girl. But also, Kimi has grown up in a very open, very queer household. So Georgia tests a bit more.

"Any… boys?"

"Uh, what?" Oh. So Kimi is just gay then. Gay for Ollie. Cool. Georgia wants to say she's surprised, but she really, really isn't. "Uh…"

Kimi stares off at the corner of the rug in a terse silence. God, their half-broken dysfunctional family has really mastered the art of silence. Georgia can visibly see the cogs turning rapidly in Kimi's brain. Georgia decides to put the poor sod out of his misery.

"Okay. Just let me know if you need any advice, alright?"

Kimi seems to pause at that. The cogs continue to turn. Georgia waits him out. Wow, dealing with teenagers is really just a lot of patience and a lot of tea.

"Mama," Kimi starts. "Do you think I'm old enough to date someone and not mess it up?"

And yeah, Georgia is 100% sure Kimi did not approach this topic with Max like this. Kimi has become a professional at navigating the intricacies of his two biological parents and if anything, Georgia should be proud of his ability to read people in such detail.

See, the thing is, Max knows more about the consequences of their decisions seventeen years ago than Georgia ever will, that's just a fact. Georgia won't try to pretend like she didn't get the life they both dreamed of, whose only real consequences were the whole pregnancy and birth fiasco, the fleeting months of attempting to date the man that is Max, and allocating Kimi-time on her calendar every few weeks.

Maybe it was the situation of his upbringing, but Kimi is an incredibly intelligent child. Even during the time he started calling Georgia "Mama". Despite all of her and Max's efforts to try teach the toddler to call her "Auntie", it was because Kimi was five years old and wanted to call somebody that. Since forever, Kimi has been intimately aware of the contexts he was concieved in. So it should be no surprise to Georgia why her teenage son is terrified to discuss romantic relationships with his parents. His parents, who his teachers glance at with pitying looks during parent-teacher interviews. His parents, who society might whisper are "too young" to be parents.

The Brit lets out a sigh, schooling her facial expression, checking her posture, ensuring she conveys the right message to the kid she didn't want but adopted partial responsibility of. Because that's all she can do — try her best to support this child in any way she can.

"Yes, dear, of course you're old enough. Clearly, you're old enough to ask me that question because it's something you worry about. So automatically you're even less likely to mess it up — on purpose at least."

Another one of Georgia's favourite things are his son's eyes. There's another twinkle in them — different from the one before — that expresses so much more than what is possible with words. Centruries from now, historians will try to describe it as unblemished trust, shimmering hope, the innocence of youth. Georgia thinks this must be what it means to be a parent.

Kimi's shoulders gently drop, as if a weight he was trying to hold up has lessened.

Georgia stares at the human being that only exists as a result of her past actions and an immense guilt rises underneath her ribs for ever letting this person think he was the result of two people making a mistake.

"Kimi. Me and your Papa, we were probably too young to have you, maybe, and we definitely made some stupid choices. But I'm sat here, almost two decades later, and I don't think we ever messed it up."

And there's definitely more that needs to be said, more they need to talk through, but they have the rest of their lives to figure it out together.

Max comes home even more ticked off than when he left. Which is surprising because he went out with the intent of the opposite effect. Whatever set him off though, Georgia knows will be talked out thoroughly with the boy sat next to him, who currently looks like he's about to combust if he doesn't follow his grumbling dad within the next 5 minutes.

Satisfied with her Kimi-bonding time, Georgia nods her head at Kimi who practically sprints into Max's bedroom. Georgia sinks back into the couch with her cuppa and listens to the muffled ranting about that guy Max bumped into on his walk. After Max is sufficiently cuddled, Kimi will run back into the living room to apologise to Georgia and they'll eat dinner together.

She sips her tea.

Georgia knows the familiar dance of this family like the back of his hand now. She wouldn't give up this life for anything.

4

Oscar

Oscar loves summer break.

It's 4 weeks where he tries his best not to think about fast cars or bright lights too much. The perfect excuse to finally just lay about with his family — tease his baby brother and maybe pamper his dad.

For Oscar, the most terrible thing about being an F1 driver might be how far away his family can feel sometimes, and his therapist might link it back to the significant events of his childhood and the role Charles played for him, but that isn't entirely relevant right now.

However, it also means the gossip that doesn't reach the family's group chat gets to be uncovered through unexpected means.

There wasn't really a singular moment he realised, more like an accumulation of multiple instances. Ollie spacing out during romantic movies with a lovestruck look on his face. Ollie giggling at something on his phone when Oscar can see its just a text conversation. Ollie coming home from soccer practice way too pink and happy for a normal teenager.

But the most obvious moment was at the start of summer break.

Oscar was eating lunch on the kitchen island while Charles was baking — fulfilling his mandated family-time, as Charles would say — when his dad told him to tell Ollie something.

If they were any other household, Oscar would probably do it later, when his brother isn't hanging out with his best friend as he is right now. Charles would probably tell Oscar not to interrupt the boys too.

But they are not exactly any other household. Because within the measly few years of Ollie and Kimi's friendship, Kimi Verstappen's presence has become such a common occurrence he may as well be ingrained into the Leclerc family's walls. Part of their decor, if you will. Past the point of being an esteemed guest in the apartment and more like a fourth family member.

So Oscar simply walks past the doorway to Ollie's room, poking his head through.

The teenagers are playing video games, sat on Ollie's bed furiously button-mashing twin controllers and wiggling around in intense focus on the screen. Oscar waits for the telltale sound of the game finishing, Ollie muffling a groan behind a facepalm, Kimi bouncing up to cheer with his fists flailing in the air.

"Ollie, Uncle Arthur is visiting next week." Oscar expects the typical happy nod of agreement that would let Oscar walk away and move on with his life.

Instead, Ollie frowns slightly.

"Uh, what day next week?"

"… Sunday."

Ollie glances at Kimi, who is sporting a similar crease between his eyebrows.

"You guys all good?" Oscar is getting weird vibes right now. The two best friends seem to contemplate this predicament oddly seriously. Oscar already can infer Arthur's visit must be overlapping with a hangout of some sort — but a casual meet-up between friends who are practically attached at the hip shouldn't be this momentous.

"Yeah, yeah … should be all good." Ollie is still locked in a staring contest with Kimi. They seem to be having some sort of telepathic conversation.

Deciding to leave it, Oscar just nods and leaves the room. As he walks down the hall, he hears Ollie's muffled voice.

"… It's okay, he usually comes in the late afternoon…"

Oscar doesn't stay to hear the rest of it.

The next day, Oscar tests their father to try confirm his suspicions.

And see, Oscar loves Charles. Like, a lot. There's an extremely meaningful history behind their story that likely needs to be discussed in an entirely different narrative, so Oscar won't get into it.

But sometimes, he thinks his dad must be an idiot.

"Dad, don't you think Ollie and Kimi have been a bit… close, these days?"

Charles hums absently. "Well, they are best friends, mon chou."

"Yeah— but like… closer than usual?"

Charles seems to pause at that, but continues flicking through the TV channels after a moment. "Oui, they spend lots of time together. I don't really get what you're trying to say, Oscar."

Oscar sighs. So maybe he's just delusional, if their own father can't sense it.

He might as well try to confirm it straight from the source.

It's a few days later when Oscar finally breaks.

Charles leaves the apartment on one of his many random escapades. Huh, he's been doing that a lot lately. He must've finally realised his 21 year old son counted as enough supervision for his teenage son.

"So." Oscar corners his younger brother on the couch. Home alone. Nowhere to run. "Are you guys being safe?"

Ollie makes an excellent impression of those squeaky dog toys. He also tries to cosplay the colour of tomato soup.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Okay, if they say you adopt the traits of the people you spend time with, they're wrong. Ollie clearly hasn't received Kimi's insane acting abilities or Oscar's poker face.

Oscar must have a certain look on his face, because soon Ollie deflates into the couch. He can't help but pity the boy. Oscar reminds himself of the 11 years he's spent knowing this kid. He loves openly; from rooftops, on bus stops, frames his admiration for the world to see. Plus, he clearly can't tell a lie to save himself, so what gives?

"Did he tell you that you were a secret?"

Ollie seems to shrink a bit more, but his eyes harden at his brother. Sue him. As much as he trusts Kimi, he just wants to make sure his baby brother isn't being taken advantage of. If Ollie thought Oscar was anything but protective of his adoptive little brother, he'd be wrong.

"He… he thinks his parents won't take it well."

And Oscar feels a bit more relieved at that. Their family is close enough to Kimi by now to know a glimpse of his background. It makes sense for Kimi to think that.

"Thinks?"

"Yeah. He's gonna try asking them about it soon though."

"That's good."

Oscar was 10 years old when Charles brought a terrified 6 year old into their home. Like most older siblings — but especially Oscar, considering how he had only spent two tentative years trying to pretend Charles was someone else, before this — he reacted to the new addition with jealousy and envy.

Ollie seemed to mold into their family like water. Ollie was better at French. Ollie was always so happy, so expressive. Ollie didn't really remember his parents before Charles.

Sometimes, Oscar caught himself wishing Ollie felt the negativity of life as hard as Oscar felt it. He tries his best not to wish this anymore, after he realised Ollie never deserved his immature resentment.

Ollie deserves nice things. All Oscar can do now is hope this relationship is going to be one of them.

"Let me ask again: are you guys being safe?"

Ollie slaps his brother with a pillow to the face.

5

Charles

Charles resents Saturdays sometimes. This Saturday is not one of them.

Because how dare the universe synchronise his oldest son's free practice and his youngest son's soccer game onto the same day, the same morning, consistently.

Usually, Charles resolves this issue by sitting in the high school grandstands holding up his phone with the livestream next to his view of the soccer field like its a split screen. Genius. Please, hold the applause. You're too kind.

Luckily, this Saturday was a short break from the F1 roster, so Charles got to attend the soccer match with his whole attention.

As Charles settled into the familiar shade over his favourite seat, he felt a presence next to him.

The silence between them stretches languidly, the roar of the teams warm-up and other chattering parents filling the rest of the void.

It's not uncomfortable. He's used to it at this point. It always begins like this at the start. They always end up needing to be told to shut up by halftime. Oscar jokes that they should start their own podcast together. Ollie doesn't even know they've met.

Max breaks the silence first.

"Kimi talked to me about it."

The players run into their positions on the field and the whistle blows.

"Yeah?" Charles doesn't look away from the game.

"Yeah." Max doesn't either.

Charles spots his son dribbling the ball down the pitch.

Typically, they'd be discussing the game by now, explaining strategies and goals to each other, but Charles knows this conversation takes priority.

"Georgia too?"

"Yeah, I suspect so," Max breathes.

"Okay."

The goalkeeper blocks the opposition's attempt at a goal. Charles claps with the rest of the hollering spectators.

"So, be prepared if they reveal it at some point soon"

Charles barks out a laugh.

"Bold of you to assume I'm not already prepared."

Charles glances over briefly and feels giddy over the slight smirk on Max's face. God.

The next goal gets blocked and the air shatters back to normal. Max uses his hands to re-enact his explanations of the player formations. Charles nods along, adding his input and firing back clarifications as quickly as he's getting them.

When the halftime bell sounds, Charles' gaze locks onto Ollie, who immediately jogs over to Kimi as they walk off the pitch together. It's cute. It's also cute how they thought they were being anything but blatantly obvious and were fooling their entire families.

Max snickers when Charles mentions this out loud.

Parenting boys, Charles imagines, must be vastly different to parenting girls.

He watched a TikTok ages ago, that said teenage girls will plan things months in advance. Spend a few weeks making sure everyone is free, with parental consent and prior knowledge before they hang out.

Teenage boys are clearly an entirely different species of human.

"Dad, can Kimi stay the night tomorrow?"

When Charles looks at Ollie, he son isn't even facing his direction.

Charles thinks back on his parenting techniques that he's accumulated ever since a child was suddenly thrust into his responsibility when he was 22.

Because clearly Charles has raised boys who are so used to their father's acceptance to these kinds of things that they throw understanding of typical human interaction out the window.

Charles checks himself. He was literally about to just say "yeah, sure, what does he want for dinner?" on instinct. He reigns it in. It takes a surprising amount of willpower.

"Why?"

Ollie finally turns to his dad, and okay, how has asking for the reason your son's best friend is sleeping over become something that is so out of the ordinary for these boys?

"Uh." Ollie looks like he genuinely has no idea what to say. Like this is the first time he's ever had to consider the question. Charles already knows the answer though, there is no special occasion that has spurred this decision. If you're new here, welcome to the world of teenage boys. Culture shock. "I don't know…?"

Maybe Charles should give in and just agree, like he oh-so-apparently always does. Charles has lost count of how many times Kimi has stayed over at the Leclerc's at this point. What has Charles been doing?

"How long is he gonna sleep over for?"

Ollie stares blankly at his dad, fingers hovering over his phone's keyboard because he even asked his dad while texting somebody.

"Probably just tomorrow night?" The seventeen-year-old's eyes narrow suspiciously. Fine. Charles will fold.

"Okay. What does he want for dinner?" Charles mentally sighs. He's so predictable. Ollie just smiles, turning back to his phone.

"Anything's good."

Charles nods and the conversation is over. Teenage boys. What more does he need to say?

His own phone lights up on the counter.

Franz Hermann

> turns out im home alone tomorrow night

> come over?

Can't <

Oscar won't be home to babysit <

> fuck.

Charles sneaks out into the living room after sending the two high schoolers to bed three hours ago. The TV is on mute. The boys' door is closed. Charles feels like he's on night watch duty.

He opens his phone and sends out a text. Might as well have a supervising partner.

+1

Kimi

Kimi has a boyfriend. He hasn't told his parents yet and the guilt has been gnawing at his soul. Growing up with Max has taught him that he needs to try his best to communicate with the people he loves. Kimi likes to think he's making good attempts.

They're currently squished together on Ollie's twin bed, Kimi's perfectly comfortable mattress abandoned on the floor. Charles is sleeping in the other room, so they're not going to do anything like that, but it's still nice.

He thinks this must be what the movies were talking about when they said life should be cherished.

"So?" Ollie's eyes are twinkling as he whispers. He can't help but match his boyfriend's whimsical giddiness. They've been waiting to have this conversation for a while now.

"I asked my Mama. She's good. Papa too. They're both good. I think… I think we're good."

Ollie squeaks quietly. He looks happy. Kimi knows he must look happy too.

Something they learned early on in their friendship, which was probably how they got so close so quickly, was that they're both extremely family-oriented. It must just be the result of being children to single parents.

It was pretty painful, hiding their relationship, but it was necessary. Kimi thinks they did a good job. But mostly he's just glad that will be over soon.

"So how do you wanna do this?" Kimi wants to let Ollie lead, to make up for his patience in waiting for Kimi to be ready.

His best friend smiles, because, yes, they were best friends before they were boyfriends and it'll stay that way.

"We can tell my family next week, when Oscar comes back home. I want you to decide for your family, of course."

They murmur about their plans into the darkness, trading soft kisses and loving looks.

Kimi can't wait. He knows Max will be shocked, but shake Ollie's hand with a different kind of grip and ruffle Kimi's hair afterwards. His Papa will be happy for him, saying something like "if he makes you happy" and "you better tell Georgia soon, she'll want to know too".

And Oscar will definitely tease them, a lot, and make fake gagging noises when they sit too close together at dinner, and Charles—

His thoughts are broken by the unmistakable sound of the front door clicking open softly. It's so quiet that Kimi knows he wouldn't have heard if if he was asleep. Ollie's breath hitches silently next to him, hearing it too.

They wait with bated breath. Wait for cupboards opening, or Charles screaming, or sounds of a struggle. There's nothing, but the couple stay alert.

Eventually, after an unidentifiable number of minutes, the pair slide out of bed.

Quietly, they creak the bedroom door open and creep into the hallway. Ollie hands Kimi a soccer trophy and grabs another for himself.

As they turn a corner, they see the flashing light of the TV screen. Charles must have forgotten to turn it off.

Before they get any farther, Kimi stops. Because he can hear faint snippets of hushed voices. People speaking. Kimi turns to see if Ollie is listening too.

"… Non… mon chéri… pretend to be shocked…"

Kimi recognises the lilting vowels of his boyfriend's father's accent.

"… but how… won't be able to… known all this time…"

Oh.

Ollie still has the trophy raised in front of him, so Kimi knows he hasn't identified the other voice. But Kimi has.

He feels Ollie try to grasp onto the corner of his sleep shirt in a valiant attempt to pull Kimi away from the danger, but it's his Papa.

When the shorter boy pounces from their hiding spot around the corner, his jaw quite literally, drops onto the floor. Ollie's chest slams into his back with an aborted grunt as they stare at the picture in front of them.

Charles is curled up on the couch swaddled in fluffy blankets and walls of pillows, and nestled under the arm of Max Verstappen, who has his legs kicked up on the footrest and his fingers threaded through Charles' hair.

The couple on the couch are locked in simultaneous staring contests with the couple standing across the room. Nobody moves a muscle for what feels like ten million years.

It's fucking 3AM in the morning.

Two teenagers are wielding soccer trophies pointed at their respective parents. The TV slowly flashes colours across the room. Kimi wants to go back to bed.

The image they must make vaguely feels like that one Spiderman meme where they point at each other in bewildered confusion.

Max breaks the silence first.

"So, uh… we're dating."

Charles glares like he's about to slap Max and chide him for his lack of eloquence.

Kimi heaves out a sigh.

The young boyfriends do eventually get to reveal to their families their newfound relationship, after the initial buzz about Charles and Max dies down. For some reason, no one seems all that surprised.

While Kimi mentally runs through his previous conversations with his family, Ollie guiltily tells him Oscar managed to wrangle out the truth in an instant. His Uncle, the F1 Driver Arthur Leclerc, recounts to them that he had spotted the tail-end of their anniversary date the day he visited. Georgia laughs when Kimi asks her if she knew all along. Max just smiles.

In a surprising turn of events (or unsurprising if you consider the fact that Kimi is better at hiding his feelings and the rest of Ollie's family aren't present most of the year), it turns out the seemingly oblivious Charles was the first to figure it out.