Formula One, Oneshots.

Charles Leclerc & Sebastian Vettel

Based on "falling for your teacher."
Will be sweet, light smut. But will include depression and self-harm talks.
Enjoy :)

Life had been so simple. Growing up in Monaco, life was lavish, luxury. To an outsider, it may have seemed that Charles is handed everything on a silver platter. To an extent, he was. Always having money when he needed, nice clothes when he needed, some were way too overpriced. Always being treated like he was so superior.
Charles had gotten used to living like this, but it was not his favourite thing. He didn't like the thought that some people may think they are not worth of his time. If you live in Monaco, you know who the Leclerc family are. Something Charles was also not keen on. The thought of your life being so open, public, was quite scary to a barely eighteen year old boy. For the last 3 years, Charles had been hiding his identity. From people at school, to the public, the press. It was not something he liked to do, but he did it because he wanted to stay hidden from the world. Hidden from all the eyes that so viciously cut into his skin. You would never be able to tell, but Charles was harming himself, quite deeply. Trying to erase the pain forced onto him by multiple years of bullying. That was why Charles moved schools, changed his name at school, and wore special glasses that helped with his vision. He tried to blend in as a nerd, and it worked. You would think that such an attractive boy like Charles wouldn't be bullied by boys and even girls. Charles would tell himself that they're just jealous of him, jealous of his looks. Or even worse, they knew his secret and were planning on telling everyone. That would destroy Charles again.

That was four months ago. There's now three months left of Charles's time at school. He would finally be free of having to be educated on useless shit. Finally free from the countless amounts of mental and physical abuse at the hands of teens his age. He was happy that this would be the case. Charles had wanted to visit Pierre, his bestfriend had moved back to France, ten years ago. They kept in close contact, always facetiming every night. Pierre was really what kept Charles sane. Charles would tell Pierre everything, well. Almost everything. Charles dared not to say anything about his cuts, scars, bruises. Too afraid that he would be yelled at, discarded, abandoned. A fear that often pushed him into submission. Not in sex, but in arguments, misunderstandings, bullying. Charles felt defeated almost everyday, but Pierre made it ten percent better. He wasn't being mean, but these downs weighed more heavily on his shoulders, and it would take a-lot of work to make it better. If it even could be made better, Charles wasn't sure it could.

Charles always liked Wednesdays. For some reason he just liked the vibe they had. Right in the middle of the week, and sometimes Charles had felt in the middle, stuck on which side to choose. It was feeling conflicted at its finest. Charles was sat at his desk, alone, what a surprise. In the front row, of Room 605, waiting for his new English teacher to come in. He knew what first days were like, always getting lost, feeling overwhelmed by the huge buildings. They were getting a new teacher, because their previous teacher had retired. This new teacher was younger, more of their generation. Charles was somewhat excited to have a new teacher, he liked the idea of a new start. Most teachers had learnt that Charles was very smart, intelligent. But they never knew how to engage Charles, sure, Charles was doing the work, but not to the best of his ability. Charles himself knew that too.
He heard whistling, followed by footsteps coming through the classroom door. Charles whipped his head to the door, just in time to see the teacher enter. This teacher, was he really a teacher? Charles had never seen someone so handsome before. The bright blue eyes, staggering in the sunlight. Those rosy pink cheeks and perfectly plump pink lips. The slightly curly light brown hair, moving as the man walked. Charles felt himself falter a little bit, but regained his composure as he saw the man place down his bag. "Hello Class. I am your new teacher, Mr Vettel." Charles was hooked onto Mr Vettel's every word. His book was neat and tidy as he copied down the english notes. His eyes darting around the whiteboard as Mr Vettel kept going, it was almost as if they were racing each-other to see who had the faster hand. And in the end, Charles did. He saw Mr Vettel turn around and give him a smirky smile before continuing. Charles's cheeks violently blushed a dark pink shade, his heart thumping away. He brushed it off and the race of who had the fastest writing commenced again.

Charles had headed home from school that day, in a much better mood. He was excited to tell Pierre everything! He was so excited that he had called Pierre on his way home. "Pierre! Pierre! My new teacher is so hot, cute and just so cute! We had a race to see who could write the fastest, it was so much fun." Pierre giggled down the phone, "Charlie has a crush, Charlie has a crush." Charles giggled back, "Pierre stop i-" Charles had been pushed down onto the ground, he could hear Pierre shouting his name through his phone. Charles felt the punches hitting his face, his chest and his tummy. He felt the kicks hitting his head, his legs and his back. He rolled up into a ball, his eyes pouring out tears. His sobs so loud, all he wished for was to be telling Pierre everything and to be safe in the walls of his home. He heard someone shouting something, "Are you okay?! Look at me!" The person was shouting at Charles, trying to make contact with him. They were shaking his body, trying to get him to respond. "I've called an ambulance, okay? I promise to help you." Charles felt his jacket being taken off, his mind caught up with him. He couldn't let this person, this kind person see his secret. His jacket was destroyed, it had been torn and ripped everywhere, covered in mud and blood. Charles opened his eyes and grabbed the person, to stop them from taking it off of him. He heard the sirens in the distance. He felt the world drifting away from him and the person who saved him trying to make contact, "Charles! Stay with me!". It was too late, the darkness had taken him. Definitely for too long, but not forever.

Charles woke up with beeping noises in his ears. The bed was uncomfortable, his chest bare. His bottom half covered. He looked around the room, wires flowing in and out of him. Machines hooked up everywhere. Then to the left of him, was Mr Vettel. His teacher, his heart fastened, you could hear it from the machine. Charles sighed, his heartrate faster but not dangerously high. He saw his teacher with his head in his hands. "Mr Vettel?" He looked up at Charles, a huge sigh of relief, "Charles, I'm so sorry." Charles sighed, "What happened?". Mr Vettel sighed before continuing, "You were mugged. Beaten up, left to suffer. I was walking home and heard screams of pain. I headed to where they were, I found four men scampering away and then I saw you. I called an ambulance, they cut off your clothes and stabilised you. I was so worried, I had never seen anything like it before. But what really worried me, was your arms, and how skinny you are. Charles, I know it is none of my business. But how long has this been going on for? The bullying and your arms, I mean." Charles smiled sadly, "I- er, Thank you for saving me. I am really thankful Mr Vettel. I heard what you said before I blacked out, you promised and you actually didn't break it. So thank you really for saving me. And in answer to your question, the bullying has been going on for many years, five or six years in total. But as for my arms, about two years. I don't really know you Mr Vettel, but I trust you, afterall you saved my life." Mr Vettel smiled at the boy, "You are very welcome Charles. Also please don't call me Mr Vettel when we are not in school, I'm Sebastian, or Seb. I wasn't going to leave you to die Charles. And a promise is a promise." Sebastian sighed at the next part, "You shouldn't have had to endured that many years of bullying. It's wrong and utterly shameful. But it proves how strong you are, Charles. And about your arms, they are far too beautiful for you to degrade them anymore. I trust you too. Charles I know who you are and who your family are, but it won't change who you are to me. I promise you that." Charles smiled, "Thank you, S-Sebastian. What you have said, means very much to me. And I'm not worried that you know, it's just teens and children who get jealous and then turn to hurting me. But yes, a promise, is a promise."