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Burning rage was curling around Max's body like a hot claw, digging into every fibre of his being and firing up his steps as he speed walked down the pitlane. It was like a bittersweet embrace, his love-hate relationship with his anger never on standby, always there and ready to take control over his actions. Over his body and mind.
His clammy skin, wet from the champagne rubbed uncomfortably beneath his undersuit but it was the last thing he was paying attention to right now. Thunderous scowl on his face successful in keeping everyone away his eyes were focused on the Mercedes hospitality.
Max had been on high spirits before the race. He had gotten his third championship for fuck's sake and it had felt so damn good he had thought nothing could pull him down from that high. After the sprint race yesterday he had spent a wonderful night with Lewis. Not that he's not spending every night with Lewis but yesterday still felt a tad bit more special due to the circumstances. They had had a really nice dinner and then went with a few other drivers to the hotel bar. It wasn't something pompous but Max wouldn't have liked it any other way. To him it had been perfect.
Lewis had been in a better mood again, which was a massive plus for Max, since the events at the Singapore GP and Max had had high hopes that Mercedes had finally managed to get its two drivers into one boat again. Lewis had come back so happy from that bowling evening he had had with his team Max had really thought they had gotten their shit together and would invest some time into team bonding. He should've known he only would be disappointed again. He should've known they would only disappoint Lewis again.
But this time they hadn't just left Lewis alone. No. They had made him their scapegoat.
He hoped he wasn't too late, seeing as it had been quite difficult to slip away after the podium ceremony but it looked like there were still a lot of Mercedes people up and about.
Max squared his shoulder, keeping his steps steady and purposeful, not faltering a single time, chin and steely cold gaze high meeting no one in particular. He knew he was entering enemy territory but it was certainly not him who was in danger.
Nevertheless it was still fortunate no one got in his way, not that they would've had any chance of getting acknowledged by him. He wasn't here to wreck mindless havoc afterall. He had mind enough to be precise with his fury and the lower Merc staff wasn't his target.
He had the zipper of his racing suit partly pulled down, the warm air hitting his undersuit covered chest making a small shudder run down his spine which disappeared quickly when he entered the Mercedes hospitality.
That's when he took the time to look around the entrance lobby but when he didn't find what he was looking for he made his mind up and was about to take the stairs leading to the driver rooms when a blonde woman passed him, black Mercedes shirt hugging her form perfectly.
"Uh sorry." he effectively stopped her, making her blue eyes meet his, "I'm looking for George."
Surprise swept over her face, her eyes widening a bit as it took her a few seconds for her to respond, "I'm afraid he's still in a meeting but I don't think it'll-"
Whatever she had been about to say immediately ceased to be of importance to him the moment he laid eyes on his target. There, emerging from a hallway and entering the lobby was what Max had been searching for.
Looking now over the blonde woman's head, gaze focused on George who was talking to some other guy in a Merc shirt Max wordlessly proceeded past the puzzled woman and headed straight for the younger Brit. In a few long strides he was close enough for George to notice him. Well, it wasn't really that difficult to spot a Red Bull driver in a Mercedes hospitality, was it?
The Brit turned towards him, already out of his racing suit and wearing a black shirt and jeans and was smiling at Max. He was SMILING and Max ground his teeth at the sight.
"Hey, mate." George greeted him easily when Max was close enough, holding out a hand for the Dutch to take.
Max didn't spare the gesture a glance, facial expression cold and stony, seizing the Brit critically and George immediately noticed something wasn't right. Watching the younger's smile slowly drop Max stayed silently in front of him, lips slightly pursed while his eyes bore into George. After another moment of silence during which George had dropped his hand slowly and exchanged a quick glance with he guy he had been talking to Max's lips twitched minimally. George breaking the eye contact was the first small victory.
"You got a problem?" Max asked, tilting his head a bit, hands on his hips.
The people around them didn't seem to notice their peciular situation but George clearly did as well as the nameless guy who looked uneasier the longer he was in Max's presence. The electricity in the air was starting to get tangible, biting and whipping but Max relished in it. He was the cause for it after all.
Tongue swiping over his teeth before poking the inside of his cheek Max waited for a reaction, shifting most of his weight on his other leg and cocked his hips a bit. The longer George stayed silent the more Max bristled. He gritted his teeth.
"Don't look like a fucking frog." he snapped and took a step closer, "I asked if you got a problem. C'mon." he nodded at George challengingly, "Tell me.'' following the demand Max pushed George, his fingers making short contact with the center of Geroge's broad chest, effectively making the Brit stumble back a step.
Max guessed that was mostly due to the surprise and George not having anticipated the move but it still was a confirmation to Max that he had the upper hand. Not that he was ever at a disadvantage here but he just liked having proof of being... better. Of knowing more than the others.
"What?" George's frown deepened after regaining his stability, his body visibly tensing, "What was that for?"
"Is this pent up frustration? Jealousy?" Max continued and pushed George again who seemed a bit more prepared for it this time but unfortunately for him Max put a bit more force into the move as well as he advanced further, "A way of compensation for being the number two?" he sneered, his face close to George's. Max hadn't even noticed he had backed the Brit up against a wall.
"Hey, you should back-"
Max turned his head to glare at the nameless guy, who by now wasn't the only witness to their dispute anymore, and leveled him with a sharp gaze, "This doesn't involve you, mate." he snapped, cutting the dude off before reshifting his focus on George again, "So, shut the fuck up." he lowly ground out between clenched teeth while finding Geroge's blue eyes again, "And? What is it?" he demanded, addressing George again, "You want to blow off some steam? Need to get something off your chest?" he asked a bit louder this time and then took a step back and spread his arms, "Now's your chance. Let it all out. C'mon."
George was still seeming confused but also wary which was not surprising since the embodiment of an enraged bull was standing right in front of him, glaring him into oblivion. When Max didn't get an answer his arms flopped to his sides, hands balling into fists.
"Do it." he stepped closer again, noticing out of his peripheral vision that the nameless guy was doing the same but Max didn't let himself be deterred, "I'm fucking waiting." he said slowly, pronouncing every word strongly.
George leaned a bit back as far as the wall was allowing him to, a scowl now on his face but as if that would faze Max.
"What the hell are you talking about? What's even going on right now?"
Max snorted and crossed his arms, "Wow. Stupidity really has no limits. You seriously just asked what I'm talking about?"
"Well, yeah." George nodded and pushed off the wall slightly, "I seriously can't think of doing anything that made me deserve... this." he gestured at Max's whole form.
"Huh." Max tilted his head and regarded the younger through narrowed eyes, "Looks like the heat got to your brain, melted it and now it's gone. Let me refresh your memory. Lap 1 turn 1? Ring any fucking bells?"
Clearance brightened George's expression but Max felt a renewed wave of anger washing over him when a small smile graced the Brit's lips. The muscles in his arms tensed.
"Oh the accident. Don't worry mate." George waved him off lightly and Max felt his right eye twitching, "We already talked about this, me and Lewis. Everything's good."
Everything's good?
"Everything's good?" he asked with raised eyebrows, "Everything's good?" he repeated a bit slower and could almost feel George's breath on his face, "Nothing is good!" Max suddenly exclaimed and this time shoved George back hard, making the Brit's back meet the wall again.
"Hey! What the hell, man?" someone shouted and in the next second he felt a pair of hands pushing him away from a wide eyed George.
Turning his head Max saw it was Mr. Nameless and he immediately pulled away from the guy's grip. That's also when he realized he had attracted a good number of spectators. Their scattered mumbling was a light buzzing sound in the background as some of them mingled a bit closer than others but Max wasn't as intimidated as he probably should've been. He was on his own here but then again he fought the best alone.
He straightened his posture, shoulders squared and gaze undaunted.
"This is no place for violence, Verstappen. Continue this and I'm forced to call security." the dude said as if he was someone important. Someone who actually thought he had a say in this.
Internally, Max could only laugh at that. Until now he hadn't even known of the guy's exsistence whereas the guy obviously knew who Max was.
"Max, what's wrong? I don't understand."
Max scoffed, mocking smirk cutting into George, "Sure you don't. Why would you try to understand something that wouldn't kiss your ass directly."
"Kiss my- what? What are you talking about?" George asked with furrowed brows and Max felt his anger squirming and seething, firing him up to let it lose.
To do exactly what this whole team had been doing to Lewis all this time. Treating him like a waste of space.
"I'm talking about this whole shitshow." Max revealed, gesturing around the lobby, "About the inability of this... team," he undermined the word with mocking venom as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, "to be a team." he finished easily and could see George needed a second before the message reached him, "Piss poor performance today. Really. But you've seemed to have found the error already. Awesome. Although if we're honest it's not that difficult if you have your own personal scapegoat, no?" he asked, turning to look at the faces of the curious onlookers.
It was a mix what he found. Some didn't seem to get it, some were too prideful to avert their gazes from him and some looked away.
Cowards.
"You know it's really a shame. We drivers are ready to mention the hundreds and thousands of people who are behind the miracle that is a single race car but if a mistake happens everyone is quick and happy to blame the driver." he said evenly, having in mind the load of times Lewis had mentioned the facility and the people working on the car after almost every race. Praising them.
"What's going on here?"
Max's head snapped in the direction of the origin of the new voice and if the sight of Toto wasn't gasoline to the raging fire inside Max the Dutch didn't know what was.
"The man of the hour." Max gestured at Toto with an outstretched arm, who made his way through the wall of Merc staff that had gathered around George and him, as if anouncing the arrival of a great personality. He dropped his arm just as fast and shifted his attention to the team principal and with it his anger like a violent hot ready to drown everything, "Really not a good idea to step into my eyesight right now, Toto." he advised the older with a mocking pout, "Take it personally."
"What's going on? What are you doing here, Max?" Toto asked, completely ignoring Max's sneer.
"Me?" Max gestured at himself, "Oh I'm doing nothing. Just wondering if the IQ of everyone in this room combined, excluding myself, could even reach a double-digit number." then his smile dropped and he stepped up towards Toto, "Didn't we have a talk?" he asked the Austrian lowly due to their audience, "Didn't we talk about the situation? Didn't you," he jabbed Toto's chest with his forefinger, "tell me you want to find a solution?"
He almost wanted to say 'didn't you promise me to find a solution' but stopped himself in the last minute because Toto in fact hadn't promise him anything.
"I did. We're working on it but this isn't a reason for you to make such a scene. RB might condone this but you're at Mercedes here. I expect you to show a bit of respect. Otherwise I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave."
Max couldn't help but laugh at that mockingly, "Don't worry I'll gladly leave. Air's much too bitchy here anyway." he snorted but didn't make a move to leave yet. Instead he crossed his arms and met Toto's hard gaze dead-on, "You probably don't care about it but do you have any idea how fucking disappointed I am?" he asked, not caring a bit about the silent audience around them, "I told you of what I was afraid would happen if this would continue and what are you doing? Fucking orchestrating everything for the next shit show!" he almost bellowed, his frustration snapping violently and making its escape through his voice to the outside world.
He hadn't wanted to admit it but it was true. He felt majorly disappointed by Toto. And betrayed. They had had an agreement. Max had trusted the Austrian to get his team back on the right course. He had trusted Toto with Lewis. And Toto had obviously spat on that.
"I don't think I need to tell you of what that accident today reminded me of."
The spanish GP.
2016.
His first victory.
The race where Lewis and Nico collided with each other.
"Can we- can we talk about this somewhere else?" Toto cleared his throat and already turned partially away from Max as if about to leave. Max didn't move an inch.
"No." he shook his head curtly, "We're doing this right here right now. I think everyone here can use a little lecture. Lesson one," he held up a finger, "team orders. I'm quite sure you've talked to your drivers about plans for the first corner, no?" he asked and then raised one eyebrow, "Or am I wrong?"
"Of course we talked about it."
"Oh. Okay. Good." Max nodded, "I wasn't quite sure because to me it looked like the fact that Lewis obviously had a speed advantage was completely disregarded."
"I already said I didn't see-"
"Shut up, George." Max said without looking away from Toto, "Now, do we have to talk about the difference between softs and mediums? Is that the new low we've reached?"
Toto also crossed his arms, his fancy white dress shirt stretching over his upper body, "I don't know if you've seen it but let's pretend you did see the replay, I think we can all agree that Lewis was at fault. Where do you expect George to go, sandwiched between Lewis and you?"
"Simply back." Max shrugged, "What would be the point in defending his position against Lewis, who was faster in general, and who would've passed him anyway? Instead you back him up, chuck the effect of his softs into the bin, and cause a fucking disaster for your team. Doesn't sound like you established team orders if you ask me." he leveled Toto with his eyes, daring the Austrian to deny what he had just said.
"We established team orders. It just didn't go according to plan. That's all. I'm not condoning you talking my people down so if you've got nothing better to do you should probably leave."
Max bit back a chuckle. Certainly he can't talk someone down who's already at the bottom but he didn't say that. He sensed he was straining Toto's patience but that wasn't something Max was afraid of. It only told him that everything he had said was true.
"Maybe you should leave." Max retorted before he had even remotmely thought about the sentence, "You obviously can't sort anything out. This is fucking kindergarten. I'm even surprised you're actually here." he took a step forward towards a stone-faced Toto, "But I guess it won't make a difference whether you're here or not. If you don't fuck up, the team does it for you." he chuckled humorlessly then he leaned forward, "I told you I'll come knocking on your front door but now I'm kicking it down. That phone call was a fucking waste of time. How could I ever believe you'd consider anything that's not coming from you? And where has it gotten you?"
"Max?"
Max stilled.
It was like hearing his name spoken in that gentle voice was as if someone had snapped their fingers in front of his face, making him realize how close he and Toto were. Making him realize how loud his own voice had been in comparison.
He turned his head into the direction everyone was looking to see Lewis.
"Okay?" the Brit looked around with a quirked eyebrow and a hesitant smile, stretching the word a bit, "Is this a secret meeting I wasn't invited to?" he asked and moved closer to enter Max's and Toto's bubble, "I thought we'd meet at the hotel?" Lewis addressed Max when he came to a stop next to him, "I didn't know you were already done with the press conference." he said a bit quieter and Max relaxed a bit when he felt a warm familiar palm rest on the small of his back.
"They postponed it. Too many people feel like shit." Max replied in an even tone, trying to untense as much as possible.
Lewis's expression cleared up at that in understanding and he nodded. Then the Brit took another glance around before settling his eyes on Toto and then back on Max.
"What's this about?"
Max didn't really know whether Lewis was referring to Max's and Toto's proximity or the hungry onlookers around them but he guessed it was probably both.
A deep and tired sigh escaped Toto, "Alright, everyone get back to work. I want the cars wrapped up as fast as possible." he made a spinning motion with his finger and the Merc staff around them disbanded quickly as if Toto's order had freed them of their frozen state.
In the end it was only Toto, George, Lewis and Max who remained. And the awfully tense atmosphere.
Max bristled, "Too much embarrassment for you to handle in front of your staff?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, voice sharp and biting with scorn.
Max felt the hand on his back twitch while he waited for an answer from Toto.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Lewis asked next to him and Max was short before pulling his hair out.
"Oh fuck, not you, too." he looked at a frowning Lewis, "You damn well know what's wrong, Lewis." then he fully turns towards Lewis, "How can you tell everyone today was 100% your fault? How?"
Max's eyes were locked with Lewis's, warm deep brown focused on him as he watched Lewis exchanging quick glances with either Toto or George Max wasn't sure. He didn't look away from Lewis a single second.
"Because it was." Lewis said slowly and it almost sounded like he himself wasn't even sure of that.
"Oh so George backing you up in the first lap where your softs would've had the most potential were part of the fucking master plan. Am I understanding this correctly?" he asked into the round, "Just for your information if that accident wouldn't have happened he would've passed even me in the first lap." he said, looking at George and Toto, "But instead your fragile ego," he pointed at George, "decided to turn this into a solo run. Was it worth it? Are you happy now?" Max made a step towards George who automatically moved one back but Max didn't get far anyway.
A hand was placed on his chest, preventing him from moving forward and when he looked down he saw it belonged to Lewis. His eyes followed the tattooed arm until they settled on Lewis's face again. A disapproving frown graced the handsome lines of Lewis's face, brows furrowed and lips slightly angled downwards. Gaze stern.
"It was my fault, Max." he repeated calmly, hand a comforting warm weight on Max's chest, "I should've backed off. I didn't leave him any space."
"Lewis. You were faster for fuck's sake!" he insisted heatedly, "He should've let you pass. Your tires would've only lasted a few laps anyway so why the fuck shouldn't he have given you a bit of a head start? It's not fair they're putting this all on you."
"They didn't. I have my own brain and my own mouth to make my decisions."
Max scoffed, "Your decisions." he quoted mockingly, "Yeah right. That's what you call 'your decisions'? Don't try selling me that shit." he hissed, refraining from saying something even more cruel, "You want me to believe you decided to participate in that apology video?" he asked and when he didn't get an answer he looked at Toto and George, "An apology video." he repeated slowly, "I mean- what the fuck? Who came up with that shit? It's just... stupid." he decided, which was probably the nicest insult until now, "You're trying to prove that everything is alright but that only proves that something is definitely wrong. Otherwise you wouldn't need to prove anything in the first place, right?"
Silence followed his evaluation and he gave himself a mental pat on the shoulder. It's not like he had nothing more to say about that video. He had a shit load more insults ready for that. There are no words to describe how furious he had been when he had seen it.
"We're going to my room." Lewis broke the silence, his arm snaking around Max's waist to guide him away with a sure grip.
No we're not, Max thought stubbornly and was about to object but when he locked eyes with Lewis he faltered. The frown from earlier had disappeared leaving behind a mixture of calmness and... anger. It wasn't outright visible but Max knew Lewis long and good enough to recognize every of the Brit's emotions. It was that dangerous glint in his eyes and the tense jaw. The slightly tightened lips.
For a moment Max didn't say anything and they just stared at each other. To others it might look like nothing but these were usually the most heated discussions. The silent ones.
This is not finished yet, Max thought as he held Lewis's gaze determined, unwilling to back down. But then Lewis's eyebrows twitched upwards slightly and Max's lips tightened, every objection he had ready dying on his tongue. Slowly he leaned back against Lewis's arm, his body untensing as Lewis loosened his grip a bit. His expression stayed though and the message was clear as day.
We're leaving. Now. No discussion.
He threw one last glare at George and Toto and then turned to take his leave in the direction of the stairs. He didn't wait for Lewis to follow him as he reached the first floor.
When he entered Lewis's driver room he waited until he heard the deafening click of the door being shut before turning to look at his other half. Lewis stayed with his back against the door, his arms crossed and legs hip-width apart, giving Max the impression of an immovable bouncer. Lewis's shoulders were tense and his expression icy as his eyes analyzed Max.
"You're angry." Max simply detected.
Lewis nodded once curtly, "Well spotted." then he leaned back against the door, pursing his lips, "You expect me to be happy with the freaking scene you made in front of everyone?"
Max leaned forward as if he hadn't heard the Brit, "Scene? So I embarrassed you?"
"That is not what I said or meant, Max." Lewis immediately denied and Max watched the muscle of his forearms tense.
"No? Then what did you mean?"
"This is team business, Max. You are not part of the team." Lewis said sternly and his voice left no room for discussion.
"I know that! But I told you I wouldn't stay quiet if something would happen again."
"But nothing happened!" the loudness of Lewis's voice immediately made Max snap his mouth shut in surprise, "Nothing happened." Lewis replied a bit more composed, "I made a mistake and I'm taking responsibility."
"No." Max shook his head and approached Lewis with quick steps, "No, no, no. You don't get to take full responsibility because it's not your fault."
"Max, I didn't leave him any space. Don't throw away your basic racing knowledge because of me."
Max frowned, "What?"
"You're biased, Max. Your judgment in this has no weight."
Max felt the words chip a bit at his pride and he gritted his teeth, "No weight, huh? You know what else doesn't have a weight either? Your own opinion in this team. They're using you as their fucking scapegoat!" Max bellowed with an outstretched arm, gesturing at no one in particular, "You happily take responsibility for the accident? Who the fuck does that 'happily'? And that fucking video is the fucking cherry on top! The fucking audacity to film that and put it online." he said menacingly slow, "It fucking shouts directed by Toto Wolff and Mercedes."
Lewis pushed off the door and stepped towards Max, entering his personal space. Then he leaned closer and squinted his eyes a bit, searching for something on Max's face who's much too perplexed by the move to say anything. The sudden silence made him register his own heavy breathing after his small outburst and now there's also a slight pounding behind his eyes.
"Are you alright?"
Max needed a second to register the unexpected question and then he scowled, "Am I-? Of course I am. Why shouldn't I be? Don't change the topic."
"You don't look good." Lewis assessed and Max's eyebrows rose at that.
"Really? Now we insult each other to win arguments?"
Lewis rolled his eyes, "That's not what I meant. You're pale." Lewis said softly and then there's a warm palm cupping Max's face whose eyes widen while blood shot up his cheeks.
He gently batted the older's hand away, "Don't do this when we're fighting." he huffed, trying his damndest to stop his lips from turning upwards.
A crease appeared between Lewis's brows, "I don't want to fight. You seriously don't look good."
Max crossed his arms and looked to the side, "I'm alright." he mumbled with a little pout, "And I'm not biased." he said and looked at Lewis again, "You're forgetting certain little details. Everyone does because then it's easier to put all the blame on you." he pointed at Lewis, "You had the faster tires. Why should you back off when you're faster? And doesn't George have a race engineer who could've told him 'hey dude, watch out, Lewis is right beside you'? What about team orders?"
"Yes, those are all important factors but I had more options than George in that situation and someone with my experience shouldn't be that reckless. It was my mistake." Lewis conceded calmly and Max's arms automatically loosened a bit at the tone of the Brit's soft voice.
"But it's not fair they're broadcasting this so fucking openly. You can't tell me I didn't have a point concerning that video. The caption could've just as well been 'PR-move by Mercedes'."
Lewis licked his lips and then looked down to hide a small bashful smile, "No comment on that."
At least Lewis acknowledged something, Max thought and dropped his arms to his side. Now that the conversation was much calmer every strain in his body was slowly becoming more and more noticable. His legs and arms ached and his head was buzzing.
"It can't go on like this. What's going to happen next? Both of you will crash out and land somewhere in a ditch? You can turn it however you want but this was a collective error. It's not just you who has to take responsibility and it's fucking poor of your team to let you take all the blame."
"Max," Lewis began and grabbed both of the Dutch's hands carefully, "not everything in life will go like you want it to. Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do just to move forward. Otherwise it would be too easy, y'know?" Lewis winked at him but Max wasn't ready to smile yet.
"If you want some challenges just tell me. I'll make your life harder, no problem. But what your team is doing right now is despising you. First we got these two situations at the podium ceremonies and now this? You are someone, Lewis! And they don't get that!" Max grabbed Lewis's hands tighter, "They don't deserve you."
Lewis looked silently at him, his expression a bit difficult for Max to read but the atmosphere around them was calm. Lewis caressed his hands with his thumbs and Max wished they could just stay like this and not say anything. He wished he could gaze into Lewis's eyes for so much longer. They were so soft and warm, deep and expressive but now there was also a slight glassiness to them and when Max saw that he didn't hesitate and wrapped his arms around the older.
Lewis went willingly, reciprocating the embrace readily as if he had anticipated the move and was now burying his face in Max's neck. The puffs of warm air hitting his sensitive skin there made goosebumps ripple over his skin and Max tightened his arms. He didn't want to see Lewis cry.
Just knowing his own team was causing Lewis such misery was enough to make Max want to go back down there and wipe the floor with Toto. How could they let it come this far?
Lewis's arms were warm and secure around him while one of Max's hands had settled to stroke the back of Lewis's neck comfortingly. The skin felt warm and soft and it was enough to ground Max, his full focus on the person in his arms.
Maybe... maybe this all wasn't because of his anger.
It was now during this embrace that Max realized this wasn't the result of his fury. He didn't come here because he was angry at Toto and the team. No... this was because of love. For Lewis.
You're biased, Max.
Max pressed his teeth against each other as Lewis's words reverberated in his head.
Maybe that's why Lewis hadn't wanted Max to get involved.
He knew he had crossed a line with his actions and everyone probably had an even worse picture of him now than they already had but did he care? Fuck, no. He'd cross the line again and again.
Whether he was biased or not didn't matter to Max. He's following his own principles and that's what counted to him.
"I'll be there, okay?" Max murmured against Lewis's head, "If they don't get their shit together and this gets worse I'll be there."
It's the only promise he could make.
Lewis nodded against his neck minimally and then whispered, "Thank you."
Max smiled, "Stop fucking thanking me for everything. Of course I'll be there. You seriously think I'd fuck off when things get a bit difficult? Think again." he chuckled and inhaled the expensive sandalwood scent of Lewis's cologne. There was a touch of fruitiness but Max couldn't put his finger on what it was.
Again Max wished for time to just halt. To just stop so Lewis and him could exist in peace and enjoy each other's company. Each other's affection.
It was only when the pounding in his head flared up again that Max opened his eyes. Confused, he found that it was quite difficult to keep his eyes open, his eyelids drooping, feeling heavy while he had the sudden urge to lie down. Only when he felt the arms around him shoot to his waist and enforce their hold on him did he notice that he had been swaying backwards. Instinctively he tightened his grip on Lewis black Mercedes shirt.
"Alright, you're definitely not okay." Lewis said as he pulled away from the hug while keeping his arms around Max.
"It's nothing. I'm just tired." Max shook his head slowly. He had a feeling fast movements wouldn't be good right now.
Lewis's eyebrows shot up as his still lightly glazed eyes judged Max, "Sure." he replied drily, "Couch." he nodded at said furniture.
A smirk formed on Max's face, "Now?" he asked with a raised eyebrow as his eyes flickered down the Brit's body, "I mean I guess I still have some time." he mused and put his arms, which felt a bit too heavy, around Lewis's neck, "I got nothing against you between my legs or," he pressed his hips against Lewis's front, "vice versa."
"Yeah, no. Not happening." Lewis shook his head, his arms still strong around Max's waist to give him some stability, "Couch. Now."
Max's smirk softened into a smile, "Only if you join me."
Their fronts were still pressed up against each other when Lewis smiled, "I will but first I'll get you something to drink. Now move it."
"Mmm bossy." Max purred and let go of Lewis albeit reluctantly.
"You seem to be a bad influence." Lewis replied amused as he guided Max towards the couch who was secretly grateful for the help. The bright light in the room didn't help his headache nor his dizziness.
"You seem to be easily influenced." Max quipped back despite the drowsiness as he let himself fall on the couch. He closed his eyes when he leaned back, "Can you maybe turn the light off? My eyes are hating me right now."
"Ah we don't want that of course." Lewis answered and Max could picture the cheeky smile on the Brit's face. He sighed when the bright voidness before his eyes turned dark.
He leaned his head on his propped up hand on the armrest of the couch and blindly listened to Lewis moving around, opening the fridge and closing it again. In the next minute he felt the couch dipping next to him. He turned his head and after a few seconds of his eyes getting used to the darkness he recognized Lewis holding out the bottle towards.
"Thanks." he said quietly and grabbed the cold bottle.
He took a sip, the cold water making his mouth feel alive, and then screwed it shut again. Then he wordlessly turned his back towards Lewis and then layed down, his head on Lewis's lap and his feet dangling over the armrest.
"You need a bigger couch." he huffed, enjoying the soft fabric of Lewis's pants against his cheek.
"Maybe you're just too big." Lewis chuckled and Max's eyes fluttered shut when a warm hand crept through his hair, "You don't want to shower? Your hair feels sticky." Lewis mumbled but kept going through Max's hair in slow even moves.
"If I move now you might as well just kill me."
"That bad, huh?"
Max hummed, "Fucking heat." he mumbled under his breath and felt Lewis take the cold water bottle which found its new place on Max's forehead, "Aw yeah that's fucking good." Max moaned, relishing in the coolness.
Lewis giggled but then cleared his throat, "Before you depart to sweet slumberland... What was that about a phone call you had with Toto? I didn't know anything about that."
"Uh yeah... So, about that..."