GENTLE VIOLENCE - Lestappen

8. The loser has to fall

CW for this chapter: Brief mention of throw up, Charles is being mean but he doesn't mean to be.

Race day, Abu Dhabi 2023 - Post Race

Charles Leclerc

So here they are, the final night of the season, the final race of 2023 and Charles can't help but feel his whole body relax. Where he'd been before scared to end the season, afraid of when to see Max next- he couldn't wait for it now. It's a good end to the season too, ending up P2 with Max of course on P1 and Russel in P3.

Max looks so proud- Charles unable to look away from him as he does his celebratory doughnuts in a car that he's won so many races in. He looks like a damn animal- like a predator, scary, dominant and totally in absolute control. 

But even after a season like this one they both needed a break, the whole damn grid did and now- standing here on the podium next to both Max and Russel it felt possible just to breathe out for a last time this year. Fireworks sound around them, cheers echo inside his head and the taste of champagne after the race that they'd had is like liquid gold. The interviews that follow aren't long and Charles barely registers the things that he says and he just watches with calm almost mesmerized eyes as Max takes his interviews. 

This night is young and as it grows older they move from mingling around the paddock to leaving for their hotel again. 

Charles doesn't see Max for a long while, until they're back outside of the hotel and at a club to celebrate. Fresh, showered and feeling their best they all leave together in a fancy almost over the top limo- Charles feeling like a real Mr. Princesa as Carlos liked to call him, sitting in the back of it, drinking wine.

It's a low lit club they arrive to, heavy base music rings through his ears and Charles would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little drunk where he is on the dance floor with a drink in his hand. He sees Max on the floor with an arm around Daniel and the other around Checo- smiling a little at how shitfaced he can tell that the other three men are as well.

He stands there, just watching- smiling a little each time that his eyes flicker to meet with Max's and then laughs as he sees Carlos and Lando in a corner of the club, close to the bar- trying to do their own fucked up version of a cancan dance.

What a season. He's happy not to lose them next season, even if Charles has heard rumors go around he's sure that not many if any are leaving and that thought is comforting.

But the night rolls on, Charles gets hugs and pats on the back- Carlos buys him a drink and they joke and celebrate that their cars are finally about to become the scrap metal they were destined to be. This night is perfect- it's warm, it's like summer in November and...

There's a man that's been eyeing him up since he got here.

Charles isn't supposed to- but he hasn't gotten himself laid since the last time he was on leave and even then it wasn't all that good. He had to be careful, selective- with whoever he went back with and this man whoever he was? Looked to be from here, clearly of middle eastern or similar decent. If this man lived here and would stay here after Charles left? Charles wouldn't ever see him again- he'd be one of millions, Charles wouldn't have to face him again some other time or at least it was highly unlikely. 

So that's how he ended up where he was now.

Charles is grabbing onto the mans arm after being offered a shot at the bar. This man briefly tells him that his name is Ibrahim before he's whisking Charles into the back of a car. Charles doesn't care to tell him his own name, knowing that he doesn't have to and they're off and away from that party to leave for the hotel where Ibrahim was staying.