Adrenaline: A Lestappen Story

𝟐 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

The morning after the infamous Monaco party had not been kind to Charles. His headache pounded at his temples, and he was overloaded with sensory issues—everything too bright, and every sound too loud. 

There was an attempt at sitting up, but any movement to his head made it throb, and he settled for staying in bed as long as he was permitted to. Having planned out his schedule accordingly, he'd been smart enough not to book anything of importance that day in case of this exact scenario. His stream of consciousness came in and out, the third time around waking up to a platter of breakfast by his bed. He made a mental note to express his gratitude to Alexandra later. While their relationship wasn't characterized by overt displays of affection, they shared a harmonious connection and provided each other with companionship when needed.

The party itself was a blur and he could only remember small flashes of it, yet in the midst of it all stood one memory completely unblemished and so vivid it could replay as a movie in his mind if he gave himself the green light to linger on it.
Charles was itching to pick up the phone and confirm that he hadn't imagined the night, but also to hear Max's voice, needing to know if he even remembered. Max had made it clear the previous night that there would be no mention of what happened ever again, yet there was a small part of Charles that hoped he didn't mean those words.

Charles had gotten good at hiding his sexuality, a skill perfected by redirecting his thoughts away from it. However, with Max in such close proximity the previous night and the convenient excuse of alcohol to justify any potential rejection, he found it difficult to resist the allure. The worst part to him was that he didn't regret it in the slightest. The world champion had given him the most gratifying sexual encounter of his life and it was embarrassing considering he wasn't even the one who'd reached his climax—all the enjoyment came from getting to taste Max in more ways than one. Replaying the kiss was like torture, yearning for how strong the man felt under his touch and how simple it had been to give up control.

A subtle vibration from his phone sparked a surge of delusional hope within him—perhaps it was Max, suggesting they pick up where they left off. To his dismay, it turned out to be a message from his girlfriend, informing him of her plans to be out all night.

 In response, he offered a casual ''Have fun.''

To cure himself of the hangover, the Ferrari driver ate some of his breakfast and got into the shower, the water immediately providing some relief. While the shampoo washed out of his hair and his eyes were closed, images of Max looming over him flooded his mind. Before he knew it, his own member hardened, and his hand wrapped around it, giving himself a couple of strokes which increased in pace with every thought of the blond that came to him.

Being home alone, he wasn't shy about moaning his name, his breathing becoming heavier and his imagination filling in the blanks of what should have happened the night before. The hot water had relaxed his muscles but it was fighting against the tension formed from the pleasure. As soon as he began to imagine the man's cock entering him, filling his hole in the same way his fingers had and stretching him out in order to fit its entirety, the boy couldn't hold back and came undone into his own hand embarrassingly fast.

Days drifted by before Charles finally resigned himself to the absence of a text from Max, a realization that cast a shadow over his mood. However, as he ventured out for a stroll, gradually easing back into the cadence of daily life, Max's name appeared on his phone screen. An incoming call. Exercising caution, he let the phone ring a couple of times to ensure it wasn't a mere accident before picking up. On the other end, a whisper carried his name, instantly capturing his attention.

"Charles?" Max's unmistakable raspy voice echoed at the other end of the call.

"Max?" Charles echoed, his heart beating in his chest at an abnormal rate and trying to remind himself that they were in the same field. Maybe the call was a strictly professional one. "How is everything?" he asked, being polite but dying on the inside to ask if he remembered their night together or if he'd thought of it at all since then.

Max had dialed the number, he had called the number, he had waited for the call to be picked up, only to find himself blanking completely the moment he was asked about the purpose of his call. The reason for the call was quite obvious; his mind had been running circles since the day they had done illicit things in the bathroom of that nightclub.
As he sat on the back of an expansive yacht in the coast of Monaco, watching a party develop on the inside, he hesitated to answer. The sound of the muffled party music crowded the phone call before Max made out any words.

"Everything's good," he answered casually. "A friend of mine was throwing a party, and thought I should enjoy a bit of the few days we got off vacation." The tone of his voice sounded so casual that anyone watching him from the outside would have thought he was talking to a close family member.
It was only when the tone of his voice changed, almost like a whisper, that the conversation topic took a turn. "Do you remember..." he said slowly, stopping himself from completing the sentence, afraid that maybe he could be heard by someone else. "Can I come over sometime, whenever you're alone, so we can talk about the next race?"

Charles stopped in his tracks, found a street corner to seek refuge in, and held his phone closer to his ear to make sure he had heard correctly and that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. After a long pause, which seemed to be a common theme, the brunette nodded when he realized he couldn't be seen. "Yes," he stammered out and a deep breath followed soon after which no doubt could be heard on the other end. "I haven't been able to forget," he admitted, shyly and almost embarrassed as if the blond hadn't been the first to bring it up. To Charles it had meant more than he'd cared to admit, especially since it was the first time he had been able to give into the part of himself he pretended didn't exist.

"I'll be alone tonight," his voice was soft and there was a shakiness to it, unable to believe that the driver had been thinking of him too. There was a small part of him that thought he must want to meet in order to keep everything a secret but he wouldn't have called in the middle of the party for a matter such as that. "If that's too soon, let me know when you can and I'll move things around," there was a small eagerness to him and even if the conversation led to what he feared, at least he'd be able to see Max and discuss the events of that night. "I'm heading back home shortly though, I was planning on staying up late anyways, so time won't be an issue."

"Great, I'll be there sometime later tonight then, see ya," Max said casually, making no suggestive comments, his tone seeming very plain and calm.

Once Charles had made it back home, he remained in disbelief at the conversation. He'd been so convinced he wouldn't be hearing from Max until they were on the track and was afraid that things would be different between the two of them. But even scarier was the thought that things wouldn't change at all—their night together was forgotten and lost to time. The driver changed out of his outdoor wear and into something more comfortable: a sweater and some joggers, since he suspected there would be no leaving his apartment.
The clock on the wall seemed to tick louder with each passing minute, amplifying the tension in the air. Charles found himself pacing the spotless living room, a nervous energy coursing through him. He wished he had some inkling of what Max intended to discuss, a prelude that could alleviate the mounting unease.

As he glanced at his phone, the screen illuminated with Max's name, a mix of anticipation and trepidation washed over him. He took a deep breath before answering, trying to sound composed despite the turmoil within. Max was coming.