Chapter Text
It’s early spring. It’s still cold outside, but that isn’t stopping practice. Formula 1 cars tear through the practice track, the mobian drivers refamiliarizing themselves with the routines and techniques after the previous championship. The driver with the best time is none other than McLaren’s golden boy, Charmy Bee. 20 years old and annoyingly aware of his raw talent, Charmy had climbed his way to the top with what looked like nothing but effortless charm and a special touch behind the wheel. He flew through the tracks like they were second nature. Maybe they were at this point.
Charmy pulls into the pits like a wildfire, screeching to a stop on his practice tires and climbing out of the car like it was nothing as the pit crew swarms his car. He takes off his helmet, striding over to the worktable where Miles stands, looking over his notes. Charmy tosses his helmet onto the table and grabs his water bottle, taking a good long sip of electrolytes while he leans against the table on his elbow. His eyes look up and down Miles’ tall lanky form. He grins around the straw of his water bottle. “Hey~”
“Charmy.” Miles coldly acknowledges him. Lead engineer and Charmy’s personal mechanic, Miles is the polar opposite of Charmy in every way. The tailless fox is tall, while Charmy is on the shorter side. He’s cold, stoic, and rarely shows emotion, while Charmy wears his feelings on his sleeve. When he isn’t flirting or laughing, Charmy’s covering up any solace with a flashy grin or raunchy joke. The picture of performance in more ways than one. Miles looks at him with icy eyes for just a moment before returning his gaze to his notes. “You drifted too hard on the 6th turn. Take the turn slower and you won’t need to do the extra correction on the straightaway afterward. That’ll save you around 0.4 seconds. Oh, and your left axel is off by 0.2 percent, so we’ll have to check that. Also, stop hugging the turns so closely in sectors 2 through 4. You’re bound to crash one of these days.”
Charmy just stares deadpan up at him, tonguing his straw as the information flies right over his head. He waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah yeah. Uh.. Axels. Hey listen, uhh… You get stressed, right? Bein’ my lead mechanic and all. Boss stuff.”
Miles gives him a look, quirking one eyebrow as he turns to add more to his notes. “... Yes. I do. Take a rest while we fix some things on your car. And don’t forget to watch replays. You have room to improve.” He turns to walk away.
“Wait!”
Miles turns to look at him again, his expression stoic as ever.
Charmy gets a little nervous grin, then quickly hides it with his usual suave expression. He puts his water bottle back on the table and takes a couple steps closer to Miles, his swagger severely exaggerated as he clasps his hands behind his back. “I uh.. Get stressed too. You know. Being the one behind the wheel, it’s a lot of pressure.”
“I’m sure it is. Is that all?”
“Naw.” Charmy takes one more step closer, looking up at him with a half-lidded smile. “I was wondering if you wanted to, uh… Blow off some steam~? Behind the garage?”
Miles’ ears tilt backwards as he stares at Charmy, not sure if he’s hearing him right. “What exactly are you implying?”
“Just think of it as a… Stress reliever. Just a little kissing between homies~”
Miles lets off a tiny, offended huff, recoiling. The tips of his ears turn red. “Absolutely not. You are a professional. Act like it.”
“Oh come on, ice king. It releases chemicals in the brain, right? You like science! Just this once, I promise.”
Miles is about to chew him out, but actually stops to consider it when Charmy mentions science. He does like science. He’s right that it releases endorphins to engage in physical intimacy. He has been rather stressed. And Charmy isn’t too bad to look at… It isn’t like Miles hasn’t kissed anyone before, but this would be different. Not that he hadn’t considered what it would be like to kiss the Bee before, but no one needed to know that. Especially Charmy. He glances at the rest of the pit crew. They seem to have things handled without him for a bit. The car doesn’t need too much work. All routine things. His direction at this point would be a tad overkill. He sighs and sets down his tablet on the worktable. “Fine. Five minutes. That’s it.”
“Sweet!” Charmy’s wings buzz, lifting him slightly off the ground in excitement before Miles shoots him a steely glare.
“Shut up. No one is to know about this. Just… Meet me outside in ten minutes. Behind the garage. There are some tires stacked, just- … You’ll see it. Again, not a word.”
“Aye aye, captain~” Charmy grins, saluting him as Miles slips out the back door. He sighs and spins on his heel to loiter around the garage, being nosy and bored as he pokes around the pit crew’s supplies and winks at passersby. A few times he considers just heading out there early, but if he knew anything about his engineer, he knew he would be timing this to make sure Charmy didn’t cheat. He ends up just spinning around in one of the swivel stools at a workbench, leaning his head back with his arm over his face, staring at his watch.
Finally, the ten minutes have elapsed. He hurries out the front of the garage, circling around to the back. He sees Miles waiting there, leaning against the exterior wall of the garage, his eyes trained on the ground in front of him. Charmy’s heart skips a beat. He’s so hot. Charmy shoves his hands into the pockets of his racing suit and saunters over to him, trying to hide the look of excitement on his face. “Hey~ You didn’t chicken out. Worst ten minutes of my life, by the way.”
Miles looks up, ears pricked as Charmy speaks. He immediately fixes his expression with his usual glare. “It’s stress relief. As you said. Nothing to be ‘chicken’ about.”
“Yeah~” Charmy stops in front of him, checking him out without shame. Miles makes a face of disgust.
“Get your filthy eyes off of me. Just- ….” He can’t bring himself to initiate. Why is he so nervous? It’s just a kiss, as he said. Charmy shakes his head and steps forward, closing the gap between them.
“Yeah. You want my filthy lips instead, huh fox~” Charmy stands on his toes, grabbing the lapels of Miles’ coat and pulling him down into a kiss.
At first, Miles is shocked. This isn’t his first kiss, of course, but it’s his first kiss with a man. And certainly his first kiss for no reason other than to shoo away his tension from work. But it feels… Incredible. Freeing. And most definitely distracting. Charmy smells like expensive cologne and adrenaline. He tastes like electrolytes. Miles closes his eyes as his hands find Charmy’s shoulders, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss. He feels one of Charmy’s hands slide up his chest to the nape of his neck as he parts his lips, testing the waters to see how far Miles will go. The answer is… Further than Charmy was expecting.
Miles opens his mouth against Charmy’s, their breath mingling as he grips Charmy’s hair in his fist to keep him close. Charmy smiles into the kiss and bites Miles’ lip, scraping his teeth along it before letting go. Unfortunately for Charmy, that’s the last bit of enjoyment he gets. Miles pushes him away, breathing heavily. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and fixes his coat, not making eye contact with Charmy. His fur is standing on end.
“4 minutes and 43 seconds.”
Charmy lets off a winded laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You timed it??”
Miles turns to start heading inside. “Yes. I said five minutes and I meant it.” He pauses in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at Charmy, who puts his hands in his pockets and licks Miles’ spit off his own lips while smugly holding the fox’s eye contact. Miles’ cheeks flush and he disappears back into the garage.
Notes:
I know this is short, sorry! But I wanted to get the story started. I hope y'all like it so far! I have lots of ideas for these two idiots <3
>:3
Chapter Text
“Watch yourself on the chicane, Charmy. This isn’t the simulator.” Miles’ cold voice comes through Charmy’s earpiece as he goes around the track during his second practice session. He groans and slows down just enough to show he heard Miles, but still not enough. He brushes over the apex on one of the turns. Miles’ voice cuts through the din again.
“Charmy, copy. I know you heard me.”
“I hear ya, pretty boy. Keep your pants on. … Or don’t~”
“Charmy.”
“Yeah yeah, I copy, whatever.” He roars through a straightaway, trying to focus on the track. His hands grip the wheel as he goes around another turn. His mind keeps drifting back to Miles. The way he kissed him as if he’d been waiting for years for that moment. The feeling of his hand gripping his hair, the taste of black coffee his tongue. Charmy had kissed plenty of people before, but this felt different. Most people didn’t stick in his mind like this. But then again, most people weren’t his lead engineer. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect that made him so appealing…
“Box the lap.” Miles’ command interrupts Charmy’s daydreaming. There’s no lilt to his voice. No affection. It’s as if he’s completely unaffected by what happened. Just an hour ago, he was sharing spit with his star driver. Now he’s telling him to box just like he always does. Cold. Unfeeling. Charmy rolls his eyes.
“Yes sir~” Charmy pulls into the pits, using the pause as an excuse to steal a glance at Miles. The fox is sitting at a workbench, looking over the telemetry data from the day’s practice so far. He touches his stylus to his lips as he thinks before drawing some notes on his tablet. Charmy’s eyes linger. Is Miles thinking about the kiss too?
He reluctantly turns his attention back to the track as the pit crew releases him for the last half hour of practice. He pushes thoughts of Miles out of his mind, at least for now. If he doesn’t focus, Miles will yell at him. While that is technically attention, it’s not the same kind of attention Charmy keeps wanting more of. Besides, it’s not like he’ll ever get more. No reason to dwell on it.
Miles watches the footage as Charmy goes around the first turn, nodding to himself as the car kisses the apex perfectly. He looks down at his notes. There are far fewer than usual. Some of them are just scribbles. He hasn’t been able to focus since Charmy kissed him. All he can think about is the feeling of Charmy’s hands on his waist, the way he laughed a little into Miles’ mouth between kisses. The smell of his cologne. He’s distracted again.
Miles curses under his breath and takes a sip from his now lukewarm coffee. He needs to focus. Charmy could have been driving like shit this whole time and Miles wouldn’t have caught it because he was too busy thinking about… That. He shakes his head and writes down Charmy’s speed. He's going too fast. Again. He’ll end up burning through his tires early if he keeps this up. Miles speaks into the comms again.
“This isn’t qualifying, Charmy. This is practice.”
“You wish it was qualifying. Nyooooooom!” Charmy speeds down a straightaway, pushing the car faster than he should be.
“You’re going to wear out your tires. Focus.”
“I am focusing. This is me. Focusing.”
Miles puts his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes. “Charmy, I swear to god.”
“Haha! Fine, fine. You win. Focusing.”
Miles lets out a tiny sigh of relief as Charmy returns to normal speed, gliding around a turn without issue. He goes back to his notes, calculating percentages in his head as he writes. As the last minutes of practice pass by, Miles’ mind drifts again. He runs through the moment again. The rush of adrenaline, the press of Charmy’s lips, the fact that despite himself, he didn’t want to stop… That part scared him. If he hadn’t set a time limit, who knows what would have happened.
He’s shaken from his thoughts as Charmy comes down the last turn, his voice cutting through the vibrant imagery running through his head.
“Uhh.. Car to garage, come in garage. Am I good to pit or what?”
Miles’ mouth goes dry. He had been so busy picturing kissing his driver that he had missed his cue to call him into the pit lane. He leans forward over his notes as he speaks. “Uh- Yes. Box box box.”
“You say as if I’m not the one who reminded you. Coming in now.”
The car pulls into the garage and Charmy climbs out, hopping down from the side of the car and buzzing his wings to soften his landing. He takes off his helmet and shakes the sweat out of his hair, though some of it insists on clinging to his forehead. Miles tears his eyes away as Charmy unzips his suit halfway, leaving it hanging open as he saunters over to Miles' worktable. His undershirt clings to his chest as he leans against the table, his chest rising and falling as he slows his heart rate from practice. His helmet dangles from one hand as he leans in close to talk to Miles.
“So uh.. You seem distracted.”
Miles doesn't look at him. “I’m fine.”
“I had to call for a pit stop myself, dude. You’re off.”
“You’re going to get dehydrated. Go sit down and drink something.”
Charmy sighs, slouching with his elbows still against the table. “I dunno… I actually had something else in mind. To do. Y’know. For stress.”
Miles’ hand pauses over his tablet. Just for a moment. Then he resumes his notes as if nothing happened. “... And that is?”
“Well… I know you said one time. I said one time. We all said it. Buuuut… I kinda can’t stop thinkin’ about it.” There’s a pause. “The kiss.”
“Sh!” Miles snaps his head to glare at Charmy. “I told you not to bring that up again.”
“No one’s paying attention. Chill.”
“You don’t know that. You’re a damn celebrity, Charmy.”
“Thanks~”
“I’m being serious.” Miles turns his head back as if looking at his notes, but his eyes remain locked on Charmy. “Cameras are everywhere. Especially during race season. If you aren’t careful, you could sabotage your entire career. Watch yourself.”
Charmy’s smile fades a bit and he straightens his posture. “So? They know I’m a flirt. Who cares if I’m kissing someone? … Is it ‘cause you’re a guy? Because they already know I’m bi as hell.”
“No, Charmy. It’s because I’m your engineer. It’s inappropriate.” He watches from his peripheral as Charmy nods. Something in his gut twists. It isn’t like Miles hasn’t been tempted to do it again, too… His fear is just getting the best of him. Again. But it’s for the best… Right? Or would one more be fine? Maybe they can just keep it to today and stop tomorrow. He swallows as Charmy pushes himself away from the table.
“‘Kay. Just thought I’d ask. I’ll be in the lounge if you need me, pretty boy.”
As Charmy turns to leave, Miles mutters under his breath. “And I’ll be behind the garage.”
“What?” Charmy stops in his tracks, backing up to stand by Miles again, his eyes wide.
“I said,” Miles repeats through his teeth, as if that would prevent others from hearing him, “That I will be behind the garage. Once more, and then we’re done.”
“WOO!” Charmy pumps a fist into the air, his wings buzzing as he hovers a foot off the ground, his voice echoing through the busy garage. He yelps as Miles grabs his shoulder, pushing him back down onto the ground before he draws too much attention.
“Quiet. What did I just say?”
“You said you wanna make sweet, sweet love to these honey-glossed bee lips, baby~”
Miles’ nose wrinkles. He stares at Charmy with a look of pure disgust. “Never. Ever. Repeat that sentence. Ever.”
“As you wish~” Charmy winks and goes to put away his helmet and get some water before their next rendezvous.
Miles’ hands grip the worktable as he sits back down for a few minutes to avoid suspicion. His mind is racing. Is this even okay for them to do? It feels nice, and there wasn’t much change to their workflow otherwise after the first time, but Miles can’t help but worry anyway. He takes a deep breath, intentionally relaxing his shoulders. It’s just a kiss. Nothing more. Not a big deal.
“Boss?”
Miles looks up. One of his pit crew had been trying to get his attention. How long had he been there? “Uh. Yes, sorry, Mark. You needed something?”
The otter shrugs, pointing his thumb at the car. “Just wondering if you got the reports of what we need to update on the car.”
“Oh, yes. Here.” Miles hands him his tablet. “The notes are in here. Don’t change them.”
“Uh- Right, thanks, Miles!” He hesitates, openings his mouth and closing it again as if he wants to say more, but isn’t sure how to start. Miles doesn’t have the time or patience to find out what it is. He has other places to be. He nods to Mark as he stands up, fixing his coat.
“If that’s all, I have to… Collect my things.”
“Oh! Sure, that’s.. That’s all.”
“Good.” Miles walks off, heading out the side door of the garage. He shoves his hands into his pockets as he rounds the corner outside. There, waiting between the stacks of spare tires and unused supplies, is Charmy. He’s sipping an energy drink and scrolling on his phone as he leans against the metal wall. His hair is air drying into messy waves around his face. He's so pretty. Miles shakes his head, trying to dislodge that thought. He's convenient. That's all. As Miles approaches, Charmy’s eyes raise to meet his. He smiles, setting his can on the ground.
“Look who’s here for round two–” Charmy can’t finish teasing Miles before the fox grabs the front of his undershirt, pulling him close. Their lips crash together in a clumsy, heated mess. Miles kisses him as if he'd been starving for ages and Charmy is a mouth-watering morsel of flesh. Charmy drops his phone on the pavement at the impact and immediately slides his fingers into Miles’ hair, gasping into his mouth as Miles backs him against the wall.
Miles’ hands grip Charmy’s waist, one hand sliding up behind his back to press him closer. The kiss isn’t gentle. Miles’ teeth scrape against Charmy’s as he seeks out more and more. More touch. More taste. He licks his own spit from Charmy’s tongue, squeezing his eyes shut against the world as he drowns himself in the bee’s scent. Charmy grips his fur in a fist as he tries to speak around Miles’ desperate mouth.
“This is– Mm… Nice~”
“Shut up…” Miles kisses down along Charmy’s jaw, one hand moving up to hold his chin in place. Charmy lets off an embarrassing little sound and slides his hand up the nape of Miles’ neck to the back of his head. Miles kisses his way back up his jaw and growls against the corner of Charmy’s mouth, his words low and breathless. “This is the last time. I’m making it count.”
“Mm… What?” Charmy pushes Miles away enough to look in his eyes, breathing heavily. “I kinda… I don’t want this to be the last time.” He watches Miles’ expression for a moment before continuing. “Do you?”
He doesn’t. He really doesn’t. This secret moment, the intensity, the pull he felt back to Charmy… it’s intoxicating. It’s soothing. But it’s all he can think about. Even though they were able to get through the day without any major issues, he couldn’t focus on his work. His mind kept drifting back to Charmy’s lips. If they keep this up and someone finds out… Miles shakes his head, his words betraying him.
“No. B-But I can’t. We can’t. It isn’t safe.”
Charmy grins, not even trying to hide his delight that Miles wants this too. He bites his lip as he watches Miles flounder to explain why they need to stop, not even listening. He's staring at how red Miles’ lips have gotten from kissing him.
“Mhm~” Charmy leans his head back against the wall behind him. “But no one’s caught us yet. No harm in just… Keepin’ goin’ ‘till they get suspicious, right? Then we just blow it off like a rumor. Easy peasy.”
Miles’ ear twitches. He has a point. Or at least, Miles wants him to have a point. It's hard to disagree with him when he’s standing on his toes to run his lips along Miles’ jawline. Miles closes his eyes, sighing.
“Fine. But the second someone catches wind, this is over. It’s just stress relief, so that shouldn’t be a big deal. That means you. Don’t cry about it.”
“Ha! You think I’ll cry?” Charmy hugs his neck, kissing him again. “Miles, just because I don’t have a heart of stone like you doesn’t mean I’m a crybaby~”
Miles rubs his hands up and down Charmy’s waist, leaning into the kisses as he murmurs between them. “I saw you... mn... crying at baby animals on your… phone the other day.”
Charmy stops kissing him, his eyes lighting up as he looks up at him. “You didn’t see the birds I saw. They line up on this branch and look like little– Hold on, I gotta show you, it's called enaga dango.” Charmy pulls away to pick up his phone. The screen is cracked from when he dropped it a minute ago. “Ah shit- I dropped it when you kissed me.” He gets an extremely punchable grin on his face, looking up at Miles through his lashes. “You must like all kinda cracks, huh foxy~”
Miles recoils. “Say that again and I get you fired. We’re done here.” Miles fixes his fur and turns to go back inside.
“Oh come on! We just got started! One more?”
Miles pauses at the corner, throwing him a single half-glare over his shoulder. “Earn it tomorrow at qualifying.”
Charmy stares as Miles disappears around the corner, his heart doing flips in his chest. He does a little happy dance, his wings lifting him just off the ground, then sighs, sitting on the ground and sending several videos of baby birds to Miles.
Notes:
Oop- Just wait, he gets worse <3 (it's up to you to figure out who I mean)
Chapter Text
What was that? Miles locks the door to his hotel room, letting his bag drop to the floor next to the coat rack. He runs his hands through his hair as he walks over to his bed and sits down. His heart is still racing from earlier. He’d never kissed someone like that before. He’d never wanted to kiss someone like that before. It was intense. Exhilarating. Terrifying. Surely it was too much. He’d been so desperate to savor this… Thing with Charmy that he’d practically gone feral for fear of it ending. He'd lost control. Never again.
Miles looks down at his hands. His fingertips are still shaking. They hadn’t stopped since he left Charmy behind the garage. He hadn’t even thought about being caught. That’s the worst part. All he could think about was Charmy’s lips. If it had been the last time, that’s one thing. He could have left it there. Dealt with the moderate humiliation of Charmy seeing this side of him Miles didn’t even know he had in him. But now they’ve agreed to keep going. Damn these hormones, or cortisol, or whatever is going on.
He sighs, laying back on his bed as he takes out his phone and scrolls through the bird videos Charmy had sent him. They’re like little white puffballs all lined up on branches together, just like dango. Alongside the videos, Charmy had also sent Miles a picture of a tiny, fluffy bird with what looks like angry eyebrows made of feathers. He wrote, “This is you :p” in the text underneath it. Miles sniffs, the corner of his mouth twitching. It isn’t quite a laugh. Miles isn’t sure if he’s capable of that anymore. But it’s close.
He sends a quick reply. “Cute.”
Immediately, Charmy is typing. “So you admit ur cute then ;3”
Miles rolls his eyes. “I meant the birds. Do not text me again.” He sighs and puts his phone down next to him, covering his eyes with a forearm. What is he even doing? Kissing his driver? Even once is enough to get him fired. But now, he's not just hoping for more… He's planned it. If ever Miles had walked on thin ice before… This felt ten times worse. And worlds more exciting.
Charmy had just finished the third practice before qualifying. Aside from a bit of overcorrection on one of the turns, it had gone well. Better than usual, at least. But Charmy hadn’t been worried about that on the track. All he was thinking about was his prize waiting for him after the sprint. He finishes chatting with one of the other drivers before waving over his shoulder at them and walking back over to his garage to find Miles. He goes to hover at his shoulder, peeking at his tablet but not really caring about the information on it. He nudges his shoulder against Miles’ arm. “What’s the verdict, boss man?”
Miles pushes him away with his elbow, not looking up from his screen. He’s acting completely normal. His voice is even, cold as usual. But underneath his usual layers of steely focus, something feels… Different. Miles nods as he looks over the telemetry on his screen. “Your stats look good. Car is running smoothly. You’re doing well. Just try to stay that way over the weekend and remember to focus on turn 5.”
A rare moment of silence hangs between them, though it’s brief. Did Miles just… Compliment him? In his own weird way, of course, but there wasn’t an insult waiting at the end like there usually is. A confused smile crosses Charmy’s face. “Damn, you flirting with me? You’re being all nice and shit.”
This gets Miles to look at him, a grimace crossing his face, though the ends of his ears seem a shade pinker than usual as he speaks. “What? No. Go hydrate. I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now.”
“Yeah yeah, I know. You gotta save it for after~”
“Leave.”
Charmy sighs and clomps over to grabs his water bottle from the shelf he left it on, casting a dejected glare over his shoulder at Miles, who isn’t even looking. Charmy sighs again, louder this time, and wanders over to where the pit crew are prepping tires for qualifying. He leans back against a stack of tires, facing one of the crew members, Gear. The lynx had become somewhat of a family friend over the years, even more so than Mark, who Charmy had known since before he met Gear. But Mark is boring. Charmy always has more fun messing with Gear. He takes a long sip of electrolytes as he watches Gear carry over the tire warmers and place each one in its spot. Charmy talks loudly at him with his straw still in his mouth. “Yo. Gear. You ever think how ironic it is that your name matches your job?”
Gear glances up at him, brow furrowing at the question. He hesitates, then goes back to what he was doing as he responds. “Uh… I guess so. I mean, my father was a mechanic, so that's where I-”
“Chaaarms!” A familiar voice rings through the garage. Charmy looks up to see his big sister, Cream the Rabbit, hurrying in from the paddock, still wearing her Traveling Overalls™. He barely has time to step away from the tires before her arms are around him, hugging him tight. She squeezes her eyes shut as she holds him tight to her chest.
“Woah, CC!” Charmy hugs her tight, buzzing his wings to make up for that damned inch of height she has on him. He smiles, feeling his muscles relax. Her hugs always do that. She has a way of soothing people just by being there, which was really helpful for Charmy growing up, since he tended to get bullied in school. He doesn’t need to worry about that now, but regardless, a little brother always needs his big sister. He pulls back from the hug enough to hold her shoulders, grinning. “I didn’t think you’d be here until tomorrow!”
“Surprise! I wanted to come support my baby brother early, so here I am!”
“I’m younger by one year. One. We were babies at the same time.”
Cream ruffles his hair, pushing him back down so he’s standing on the ground to establish dominance. “So cute~ I can’t believe you’re getting to race with the big boys, how exciting!” She laughs as Charmy ducks to get away from her hand, pushing her arm away as she reaches out to mess up his hair again, grabbing his free arm. He plants his whole hand over her face, pushing her away.
“This isn’t my first year, even?? Ew, did you just lick my hand?? Gross! You’re such a jerk.”
Cream laughs as he pulls his hand away, throwing her a disgusted glare. She kisses his cheek as she releases him. “Love you too~”
“Ugh.” Charmy rolls his eyes, stealing a rag from one of the crew members to wipe off his hand. “Anyway. You get to the sanctuary okay?”
She nods, adjusting her tote bag on her shoulder. Since Cream works as a vet at the chao sanctuary back home, it wasn’t easy for her to leave during race season to come see Charmy drive for the first few years of his racing career. It wasn’t until he graduated to Formula 2 that she was permitted to travel between sanctuaries wherever they travelled. While the jet lag can be an issue, she’s never complained too much. Getting to watch her baby brother race makes it all worth the hassle. Besides, she also gets the chance to learn about different variants of chao and admire the beautiful scenery while she’s at it. Just remembering it makes her giddy. “Yeah! Oh, it’s beautiful, Charms. It’s giving me some ideas for things to improve at the sanctuary back home! Like they’ve got this pond with little waterfalls, but the way they stacked the stones around it is so cute~! Ugh! I’m so glad they let me head out early to get my bearings. Absolutely worth it.”
Charmy grins as he watches her get all excited about rocks or whatever. He doesn’t get it, but it’s nice to see her so happy. He nods, lifting his water bottle as if to celebrate her. “Totally! That’s awesome, sis.”
“You should come visit!” Cream giggles as Charmy’s expression falters. “But this isn’t about me. You excited for quali?”
Thank god, a change in subject. As much as Charmy loves hanging out with Cream while she’s at work, it can get… Boring. He usually only goes to vent or kill time. He raises a brow at her. “You excited you get to say that word?’
Cream tries not to grin and fails. “Yeah~”
Charmy shrugs, taking a sip from his water. His eyes accidentally wander back over toward Miles as he speaks. “It’s quali. I get to go fast, which is fun. Ferrari got some new shit though, so I’m kinda worried about them. I'll have to really push today to get past Skylar. Hate that guy.”
But as he speaks, his worries become lost on Cream. Her attention has trailed back to Gear. She watches quietly as he wipes his forehead with the back of his arm. She chews her lip for a moment, then lightly touches Charmy's shoulder, completely ignoring what he had been talking about. “I’ll be right back, hold that thought.”
Cream hurries over toward Gear, leaving Charmy to roll his eyes and go bother Miles again instead. Cream clears her throat as she approaches the lynx, fidgeting with the straps of her tote bag. “Hi, Gear?”
Gear turns to look at her, his tufted ears pricking as he wipes motor oil off his hands with a rag. Cream has always thought fondly of Gear. He’s kind, helpful, and looks her in the eye when he speaks. He’s gentle. Even now, in the thick of his work, he looks soft. He smiles, nodding a greeting to her. “Cream, hi! How was your flight?”
“Hi! It was lovely, thank you! I got to watch Scream during the flight, it was so cozy~” She watches in amusement as concern flashes across Gear’s face, but she interrupts before he can question her movie choices. “Oh, and I brought this for your sister. I hope you don’t mind.” Cream reaches into her bag and pulls out a tin of tea with an ornate green label. She offers it to him with both hands. “It’s peppermint, so it’ll soothe her nerves and any lingering nausea. How is she?”
Gear takes the tin, their fingers brushing. He studies the label for a moment. His sister gave birth to her first child only a week ago, after years of searching for doctors who could help her and her wife have a baby. He hasn’t told many people outside his close circles, but Cream and Charmy were some of the first to know. He lets off a tiny breath of a laugh. “This is perfect, wow…” Gear looks back up at her with a wide, grateful smile. “Thank you, Cream, she’ll love this! She’s doing great, and the baby is super healthy.”
“Oh that’s wonderful!” Cream beams, clasping her hands together and bouncing in place just a tiny bit. Babies and chao have always had a similar kind of hold on her heart. They are somewhat similar, after all, at least in the early stages. She closes her eyes, trying to picture how cute the little lynx-butterfly baby must be.
Gear pauses for a moment, his eyes lingering on her smile. She’s glowing. He blinks hard and nods before she notices. “Uh- Yeah! I’m really happy for her and Marie! They needed this.”
Cream sighs, shaking her head at the thought of their struggle. “More than I can even imagine. Tell them congratulations for me!”
“I will!” He smiles, watching Cream hum as she reaches into her hand-painted tote bag, taking out a very large green scrunchie. She starts tying up her ears into a ponytail. Gear looks away, realizing he was staring. He mentally scolds himself and tries to focus solely on reading the ingredients list on the tea tin. He’s interrupted from reading and not processing any words by Cream’s voice.
“Do you mind if I help out around the garage?” She quickly adds, “Just cleaning up and keeping things neat, I won’t be in the way. I promise.”
Gear chuckles and puts a reassuring hand on her arm. “You’re never in the way, Cream. You’re basically a member of the pit crew at this point, you don’t need to ask. I’m glad you’re here.”
Cream shakes her head, grabbing his hand. “I wanna be polite!”
“As if you could be anything but.” He squeezes her hand and lets it go, then nods toward the hallway where the staff lockers and the supply closet are. “I’ll go put this in my cubby. Make yourself at home.”
“Rodger~!” Cream starts picking up rags to put in a bucket to wash later. Gear smiles to himself as he walks over to his locker to put the tea with his things. He places the tin on the shelf next to his non-work gloves. Cream was so thoughtful to bring this… If only everyone were that kind.
Charmy wasted no time on the track. He zipped around his competitors on softs, the world around him becoming a subject of second nature while his mind chased something a little more enticing… His reward. It didn’t take long for him to snatch up pole position and keep it just long enough to get him the spot for this weekend’s grand prix. Skylar was a hair slower than him but he doesn’t care. He gets to go snog his engineer.
Miles shows up at the garage a couple minutes after Charmy parks. He's still in his helmet when the fox walks in, but he lifts his visor to catcall him. “Heeeyyyyyyy pretty boy~! You run all the way over from the box just for me~?”
“Charmy.” Miles ignores his teasing. “Good work. You barely made it, but… You made it. That’s what matters.”
Charmy makes eye contact with Miles and winks at him through his open visor. “Sure is, big daddy~”
Miles cringes, then narrows his eyes at Charmy, lowering his voice. “I will fire you if you don’t stop.”
“Fine, fine, jeez... Buzz kill. So, when do we get our uh…” He trails off at the dangerous look in Miles’ eyes. He knows what it means, but… Hot. “Lunch break...?”
The save seems to appease Miles for the time being. He nods. “I suppose… Five minutes from now would be sufficient. The crew needs time to get the car secure.”
“I don't gotta do that. Or you uh… Engineers.” He waggles his eyebrows at Miles, who sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to start any hierarchy drama with the pit crew. Five minutes.”
Charmy groans and flops down onto a stack of tires, ripping off his helmet and balaclava. He sulks as Miles goes back to work as if nothing is waiting for them both just around the corner.
Charmy laughs at something Mark said as he backs toward the side door of the garage. He doesn’t really care what the joke was. He’s got other things on his mind, and they don’t involve car jokes or the lovingly purchased takeout that Cream brought for him to eat. He slips out the door and around the corner to where Miles is waiting for him. The fox is sitting on the ground next to their usual wall with his jacket under him to protect his precious black pants from getting dirty. What a neat freak. He’s eating cup noodles and watching something meaningless and brainy on his phone. Charmy scoffs as he gets closer, spooking Miles with his voice.
“Cup ramen? No wonder you look like a malnourished Victorian child. I gotta show you what real food tastes like sometime, foxy.”
Miles jumps when he speaks, almost spilling his watered-down ramen broth. He stares up at him with wide eyes, his voice cracking. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry...?” Charmy sits next to him and opens up his box of lo mein, taking a first whiff of the yummy food smell before snapping his chopsticks apart and digging in, not bothering to clean off the splinters first. He nods at Miles’ phone, speaking with his mouth full as they settle in next to each other. “Wuzzat?”
“Oh, um… It’s a video explaining different engines and how their designs have improved over the decades.” He takes a tentative sip of his broth, not used to eating around other people.
“Oh. …… Cool.” He doesn’t mean it, but he wants to kiss the guy, so he has to be nice.
Miles’ ears prick up a bit when he says that. He turns a little to look at him. “Do you want me to tell you about it?”
“Nah.” Charmy doesn’t think before he blurts it out, but clearly it was wrong. Miles looks away again, falling silent. Was that too harsh? Oops. He bumps his shoulder against Miles’. “I kinda wanna kiss you first, actually~”
Miles’ ears blush red. He doesn’t look at him right away, seemingly frozen. “You haven’t finished your food.”
“Neither have you, dumbass. Besides, don’t you wanna taste something other than crap ramen~?” He leans closer to Miles, setting his lo mein down on the pavement as his face moves close enough to smell the ramen spice on Miles’ breath.
Miles breathes a bit harder. He messed up last time. He made a mistake. What if Charmy expects that same kind of intensity from now on? What if this goes too far? Miles isn’t even sure why he wants this. He isn’t gay. He can’t be. And surely it isn’t Charmy doing this to him, right? But what if it is? What if– He risks a peek at Charmy. The bee is just waiting. Not pushing. Just… Admiring him. Smiling. Miles gulps. “... Are you sure? Last time, I… I was too much.”
“I liked it~
“I know. But… I can’t always–... This isn’t normal for me, Charmy.”
Charmy shakes his head, taking the ramen cup from Miles’ hands and setting it on the ground next to his takeout box. He shifts closer, his hands on the ground on either side of Miles’ hips. They’re nose to nose now. “Miles. Do you want to kiss me?”
He hesitates for a long moment before he whispers, “yes.”
“Then kiss me, nerd~”
And he does. Oh, how he does. It’s as if those four–well, three, the fourth was unnecessary–words gave him that push he needed. Miles presses his lips to Charmy’s, squeezing his eyes shut as he tastes lo mein and some kind of toxic-tasting energy drink on his lips. As if by instinct, his body relaxes as Charmy teases his mouth into opening, still propped up half over his lap.
Charmy smiles against Miles’ mouth as the fox sighs, tilting his head to get a better angle as their tongues meet. Half-assed spices and coffee flavor meet Charmy’s senses. That coffee taste that Charmy used to hate now just tastes like Miles to him. He scoots the rest of the way into Miles’ lap, straddling his legs and freeing up his hands to grab Miles’ face and deepen the kiss. His fingers tangle in the fox’s hair as they practically inhale each other, their air mingling into a delicious blend of Asian spices and Charmy’s cologne.
Miles’ hands find his waist, gripping his sides though his undershirt as if unsure if he wants to drag him closer or keep him at a distance. Charmy takes his cue and shoves his tongue deeper into his engineer’s mouth, desperate for more of that bitter memory of caffeine. If Miles doesn’t want to play the powerhouse, Charmy will. Gladly. He risks a bite to the fox’s tongue.
Miles doesn’t mean to groan, but it happens. He freezes. Dear god. He’s never made a noise like that before. Charmy just laughs and kisses his jaw, making Miles even more of a nervous wreck.
“What’s wrong, baby? Scared to make a little noise~?”
“Yes.” Miles pushes Charmy back just enough to look him in the eye. “This isn’t… That. It’s stress relief. Remember? I don’t like you enough to make sounds like that.”
Charmy’s antennae droop as he stares up at him, his brow furrowing as if he’s disappointed, or just…. Confused. “You….. Then why are you making them?”
Miles hesitates. He doesn’t hate lying, but he hates how it feels to lie right now. “It was an automatic response to stimulus. Nothing more.”
Charmy nods quietly, his hands fixing Miles’ hair before he sits back. “... You done?”
No, he’s not. He wants more. More. But he nods. Charmy climbs off his lap. They finish their meal in silence.
Notes:
Whew! Finally got around to finishing this one! They're stupid <3
Chapter Text
Miles doesn't sleep much that weekend. His mind is full of buzzing wings and the smell of Charmy's cologne. The look in his eyes when Miles pulls back from kissing him stupid. The excited grin he gets when he agrees to another session of… Stress relief.
It’s become a routine. Familiar. Too familiar for Miles’ comfort. He shouldn't be this close to anyone in Formula 1, especially his own driver. Yet he can't seem to keep himself away regardless of the risks. That spot between the storage crates and spare tires behind the garage has become their spot. They don't even need to discuss where to meet anymore. Charmy just sends Miles a text:
“Ten min?”
And Miles replies with a “Five.”
Minutes later, they'd be pressed against the wall, kissing like no tomorrow. Sometimes it's hasty and desperate, but there are times–They tend to stick more in Miles' head than the prior–Where the kisses are gentler. Sweeter. Where Charmy holds Miles like a treasure in his arms rather than just an outlet, their lips meeting as if it’s as natural as breathing. It's moments like these that haunt the fox the most.
He shakes the thoughts out of his head. There's no reason he should be thinking about this now. It's the week between races. Miles hasn't had to interact with Charmy directly since his win on Sunday. Miles had been particularly rewarding that afternoon. For no other reason than getting the bee to try and drive better next time. Of course.
Maybe this can be the end of it. There’s a week in between each race this season, so Miles can just avoid Charmy until the next race weekend and tell him he’s done. Simple. No loose ends, no existential crises to haunt him. If Charmy needs someone to kiss, he has a whole crowd of fans who would be more than happy to take Miles’ place. It’s perfect. So why does the thought of Charmy’s lips on someone else make Miles feel so… Anxious?
He shakes his head. It’s just his mind forming an artificial attachment as a result of repeated displays of affection. That’s all. Not even affection, actually. Just physical contact. With his driver. Who makes him feel– No. No, Miles doesn’t feel anything. He doesn't have time for that train of thought. He’s busy.
Miles parks his car outside the gym dedicated to the Formula 1 drivers and crew. Each track has one, and they tend to be mostly empty, at least enough for Miles to find a quiet corner for his physical therapy exercises. Since he lost his tails as a kid, he’s had chronic pain and stiffness in his spine and hips where they got severed. Not to mention the phantom pains. The PT doesn’t fix it, unfortunately, but it helps.
Miles walks in with his yoga mat under one arm, giving the main room a once-over to make sure no one important is there. Or specifically, no McLaren drivers under 5’0’’. Thankfully, he seems to be alone, aside from Skylar and Travis from Ferrari, who are running on the treadmills and chatting. They won’t be in Miles’ way, so he lets himself relax. He steps onto one of the treadmills furthest from the two drivers and begins to warm up for his stretches with a light jog.
Movement has always helped Miles clear his mind. His memories have a habit of becoming loud and heavy, pulling him down into spirals if he lets them, but even just a walk in fresh air helps quiet them. At least for a while. He closes his eyes as his muscles relax into the familiar routine of exercise, the relative quiet of the room a nice change from the overwhelming volume of his workplace. Unfortunately, that relief only lasts for a few blissful minutes. He’s only gotten twenty minutes of walking in before he hears the door to the gym open and close, an obnoxious voice chattering loudly into a cellphone as it enters.
“No, CC— Santa Claus is not a power ranger! He can’t be the most powerful power ra–... I don't care what Reddit said, watch the damn show! I already told you which one to start with. You know what, I’m not arguing about this. I’m at the gym now. … Kay. Love you too, weirdo. Byyeeeee.”
Of course it’s Charmy. Miles grits his teeth, praying the bee doesn’t notice him. His prayers are in vain, but what did he expect? That intoxicating nuisance could find him in a crowd of his own doppelgangers. It only takes a moment for the treadmill beside his to start up and for Charmy to take his place there, setting his pace to match Miles’.
“Hey you~” Charmy grins, looking Miles up and down as they walk side by side. He’s wearing a tank top that shows way more skin than is necessary. Miles doesn’t look at him. He isn’t sure he’d be able to look away if he did. Besides, he can feel Skylar and Travis looking over from where they’re running further down the line of treadmills. He can’t risk this getting out. He speaks quietly to Charmy, his voice tight.
“Do not refer to me like that. I am your race engineer. Act like it.” He feels the fur on his arm stand on end as Charmy leans closer to him.
“You don’t know how I treat my engineers, then. Maybe I do this for all of them~”
Miles risks a side-eyed glare at him. “You don’t. And if you did, you wouldn’t be talking to me right now.” No, he’d be too busy with them to even notice Miles. The thought makes Miles antsy. Why does he even care? He’s mostly stopped paying attention to the driver next to him when Charmy’s voice breaks through the anxious thoughts.
“Again with the buzzkill attitude, hot pants. Tsk tsk tsk.” Charmy runs a hand through his hair as he returns his attention to his own walk and lets his bangs fall back into his face, fully aware that Miles’ eyes are lingering on him.
Miles realizes he’s staring and tears his eyes away to look at his timer. “I’m busy. Don’t bother me.”
“Sure~” Charmy obliges, letting the two of them fall into silence. Horrible, tense silence. Miles tries to avoid looking back over at him. His peripheral gives him enough of a view without sabotaging his plan to push Charmy away. Is that still too much? Maybe. Miles begins his cool down lap on his treadmill while Charmy runs faster next to him. How fitting. Charmy is always finding things to rush into, it seems.
After a couple minutes of excruciating proximity, Miles escapes. He grabs his things and hastily goes into another room to do his stretches. Since Charmy is busy now, he hopefully won’t be bothering him for a while. Besides, the bee’s “mortal enemy,” Skylar Hawk, is just a few feet away. He’s just another driver gunning for first place, but they both seem to be enjoying the show of rivalry. That should at least give him something to do. Something other than Miles.
Finally, true quiet. Privacy. Miles shuts the door to the aerobics room, taking a deep breath as he finds a corner and unrolls his yoga mat. He does some standing stretches to begin, closing his eyes as he bends over. His mind wanders back to Charmy. Is it possible to notice when a room doesn’t smell like someone? Is it normal? Surely It's just a symptom of Charmy’s overbearing cologne. Not important. Miles sits on his yoga mat and carefully pulls himself into some of his PT stretches, letting his muscles ease into it slowly. Would Charmy laugh if he saw him like this? Probably. Why is Miles thinking about that? It doesn’t matter what that foolish bee thinks. So why does it make Miles nervous that Charmy is in the next room?
He doesn’t have a lot of time to worry about it. As Miles begins his lumbar stretches, he hears the door to the room open and close. There’s that familiar scent. He sighs, keeping his eyes shut as if that would keep Charmy from seeing him. It doesn't. The bee saunters over to him, stopping next to him as he twists his knees to one side, keeping his back flat to the floor. He doesn’t say anything, probably taking a moment to check Miles out. His voice echoes through the empty room as he speaks.
“Didn’t know you were so flexible, foxy~ Who’re you doing this for?”
Miles’ brows furrow but he still doesn’t open his eyes. “My severed spine.”
“Oh.” After an extra moment of silence, Miles hears Charmy sit on the floor next to him. The fox slowly turns his legs back to a neutral position and opens his eyes to glare at him. He’s surprised to find Charmy just sitting there admiring him. He smiles, his eyes raking over Miles’ legs. “Let me know if you need a stretching partner, hot stuff~”
“No.” Miles sits up, his ears folding back as he gives Charmy a deadly look. “Don’t talk to me like that.” He adds through his teeth, “we’re in public.”
“Pshh. Technically, yeah.” Charmy adjusts himself to mimic Miles’ position next to him on the floor. “I don’t think anyone cares as much as you think they do, Miles.”
“It isn’t worth the risk.” Miles goes back to stretching, rolling his knees to the other side and wincing as his back complains at the slow twist. He sighs, forcing himself to relax. Beside him, Charmy copies his movements. He grunts, trying to keep his shoulders flat.
“How’re you doing that? You make it look so easy.”
“I’ve been doing this for nearly fifteen years, Bee.”
“Right…” Charmy taps his finger on the floor to the beat of whatever song is playing in his single earbud. Miles closes his eyes again, listening to the rhythm. Usually something like that would annoy him, but right now, with just the two of them… It doesn’t. He follows the rhythm in his head, noting when it changes with each new song. Charmy follows Miles’ movements, doing his best to copy him despite their apparent difference in flexibility.
Miles curls into child pose, letting his back rest from the other stretches. Charmy copies him, rocking back and forth as he tries to tuck his legs as far under himself as he can. He grunts again and looks over at Miles from behind his arm. His voice is startling against the quiet of the room, despite his soft tone.
“Can I ask you somethin’?”
Miles sighs, opening his eyes to watch him, their eyes meeting. “Sure.”
Charmy nods. Hesitates. Then asks, “how’d you lose your tails?”
If Miles was expecting any question, it wasn’t that one. He gulps, sitting up and turning to face Charmy on his mat, then leaning over one leg with his arms stretched over his head. His gaze once again refuses to leave the floor as Charmy copies his pose. The comfort he’d found in this silence with Charmy has disappeared, replaced with what feels like a knot in his stomach. He hates revisiting that day… But he and Charmy had known each other a bit before then, so… In some way, Miles feels that Charmy deserves to know. Even if he really doesn’t. His mouth refuses to work for a moment before he begins. “I… Mm… I was ten, um… You remember my brother and his friends? Sonic, Amy, Knuckles, Shadow..?”
Charmy nods. “Yeah.”
“Yeah.” Miles swallows hard, turning and laying down over his bent knee in pigeon pose. Next to him, Charmy struggles with the pose while Miles speaks. “It’s my fault they… It’s my fault. We were fighting Eggman in space, nothing out of the norm. But he was extra powerful that day. Both Sonic and Shadow were super. I was flying with them in a little…” His mind goes blank. He shakes his head. “Like the one-man ships?” He glances at Charmy, who nods to encourage him to continue without the missing detail.
“Mhm. I know ‘em.”
“Yes, so… I thought… I thought if I used the blaster, I could save everyone. I went against orders, against our plan, I… I was impulsive… Robotnik and I were the only survivors. He ended up raising me. And during the explosion that happened, my tails got so damaged they had to be amputated. Now I do physical therapy to keep the pain from getting worse. And… That’s it.”
Charmy gave up on the pigeon pose early on in Miles’ story. He’s now sitting cross-legged, staring at him with big eyes. Miles returns his gaze for a moment before lowering his eyes. He realizes his own hands are shaking. He hadn’t noticed. He clenches his fists, willing them to calm down as he pushes himself back up to sit with his legs under him. He flinches as Charmy reaches out, gently taking his hands in his own. Miles looks up at him, confused.
“What are-”
Charmy leans closer, interrupting him. “You were a kid, blondie. It wasn’t your fault ‘cause you didn’t know.”
“That isn’t how it works, Charmy.” Miles tries to remove his hands from the bee’s, but that only makes Charmy cling onto them tighter.
“I don’t give a flying crap. It was Eggman’s fault for fighting you guys. If he’s involved, I blame him. Not the ten year old who wanted to help. Not to throw shade at your old man or anything.”
“I don’t care if you do. I’m not fond of him either.” Miles looks down at their joined hands. He can’t help but blame himself for it all… It was his decision that ruined everything, but… Like Charmy said, he was just a kid. He didn’t know. And even if he had, Chamy really didn’t need to be comforting him about it. He may be insufferable, but he’s kind. That’s never mattered as much to Miles as it does now. The fox sighs and slumps forward, laying his head on Charmy’s shoulder. He closes his eyes, letting the scent of cologne and sweat comfort him. “... But… Thank you.”
“Y-Yeah.” Charmy hesitates at first, as if surprised at Miles wanting to be close to him. Then he lifts one hand to rub his back, smiling softly against his fur. Miles feels Charmy kiss his cheek. “Anytime, pretty boy.”
Charmy wasn’t expecting Miles to actually tell him what happened to his tails. He’s usually so closed-off about his past that no one could get the story out of him if they begged. Then again, he also wasn’t expecting Miles to initiate contact, but here they are. Charmy feels Miles’ breath warm against his chest as he rests against him. He runs his fingers through the fox’s hair, his cheek nestled against Miles’ head. He stiffens as Miles slides his hands around his waist to hold him closer, his slender fingers tracing up his back just below his wings. Charmy speaks in a low voice against his ear, trying desperately to keep his composure.
“Thought you were worried about gettin’ spotted, foxy..~”
To Charmy’s dismay, Miles sighs and pulls away from him, leaving his shoulder cold with his absence. Charmy had hoped he would get to tease him a bit, but Miles just looks away, his voice once again cold. “Yes. You’re right. Sorry.”
Shit. Charmy grins, hoping his disappointment isn’t too obvious. “Hey nah, you know me, baby~ If it were up to me, I’d have my tongue down your throat right now.” The bee watches as Miles’ face morphs between shock, fluster, and utter disgust. He settles on the last one, moving back onto his yoga mat to finish stretching.
“Do not speak to me.” The fox mutters something about Charmy’s audacity, but Charmy doesn’t quite catch it. Instead, he shrugs and gets up and goes to grab some dumbbells. He starts doing bicep curls in front of the mirror while Miles stretches nearby. Charmy had seen Miles in the gyms before, but he’d never stopped to actually watch him until now. Aside from knowing him as kids and thinking he was hot, he hadn’t had any reason to. But now? He can’t even focus on counting his reps.
Miles is slender, probably too much for his health, but he’s athletic. Built like a dancer. He lets out a long, slow breath as he eases his muscles in a stretch over his legs, his chest nearly flat to his thighs. Charmy’s been working with Miles for years, and only now does he find out he can do that? Charmy curses himself for not getting Miles to kiss him sooner. He's incredible.
The room is so quiet, the only sound is their breathing and Charmy’s music in his lone earbud. Charmy’s mind drifts back to the story Miles told him as he lifts his weights over his head to work his shoulders. How hadn’t he known? He’d seen the news when it happened. He knew who had died. But somehow he hadn’t connected that Miles could be part of it. He'd survived, and that was all that mattered, right? Even as he and Charmy drifted apart after the incident, Miles had just seemed lost in grief. But then again, they were only kids back then. How lucky was Charmy that they’d ended up working together years later? Now they finally have a chance to talk. And, hopefully, more. He sets his weights down to take a rest between sets, turning to look at Miles as he paces. This new vulnerability from Miles has made him confident.
“Hey engineer.”
“What.” Miles turns his head to glare at him from his yoga mat.
“Wanna grab dinner later? I mean, I got a press conference at 4:00, but uh… But like after that.” Charmy’s heart races as Miles stares at him, dead silent. Is this how Charmy dies? Is it too soon for him to ask that? What if Miles doesn’t like him like that? To be fair, he does confirm that very frequently, so… Maybe this is overstepping after all. Just because Miles told him about his backstory and hugged him doesn't necessarily mean anything. It's Miles. He would probably do that for anybody he felt close to… Right? What if he’s not even gay? Naw. He’s totally gay. … Right? Charmy lets off a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Uh… Nevermind, actually. That was stupid.”
“... Yes.” Charmy’s heart skips a beat at Miles’ reply before the fox finishes with, “it was.” Oh. His gut drops. Charmy laughs again, looking away.
“Oh. Yeah, obviously. Bad idea. We’re just kissin’ buddies.”
“Mhm. For stress.” The awkward silence is nearly visible with how thickly it hangs between them. Charmy crouches to pick up his weights again. They feel heavier than before.
“Right, right... Stress. Cool.” Of course. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Idiot. Miles has gone back to his stretching, obviously making a point not to look at Charmy. He really screwed up this time. Miles was just getting comfortable with Charmy and now look what happened. Charmy does a few weak reps, but his heart isn’t in it anymore. He looks back over at Miles, his voice cracking with nerves. “Hey, um—”
Miles sighs, sitting up and turning to give Charmy a deadpan look. His voice is sharp with irritation. “No, I don’t hate you. Yet. Just shut up and finish your training. Leave me alone.”
Charmy obeys him. He heard what he wanted to hear, even if it came at him in a tone that sounded entirely contradictory to the words’ meaning. Though, he can’t be sure if Miles not hating him is the same as Miles still wanting to suck face behind the McLaren tent all weekend. Unfortunately, that means next weekend rather than this one. A whole week and a half before he can find out if Miles is mad at him enough to end their routine.
He glances at Miles again. The fox is already looking at him from the corner of his eye when Charmy spots him. Miles immediately turns his head away, the tips of his ears flushing pink. Charmy smiles to himself, nodding along with his music as he gets back into his workout. Excellent. Miles is totally gonna be kissing him next weekend. Just watch.
Notes:
The details of Miles' backstory are a reference to the Broken Future comic by Team Chilidogs! Go check it out!
The song Charmy is listening to is "Shut Up and Drive" by Rihanna by the way :3
Chapter 5
Notes:
This chapter is a bit longer, hooray! Also a warning, there is implied spice in this chapter, though it isn't shown.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Miles meant to follow his plan. He did. But seeing the way Charmy sought him out as soon as they arrived in Bahrain, the look of pure joy in his eyes when Miles smiled back at him… He couldn’t let that go just yet. He needed to let it fade gradually. Or, at least, that’s what he’s telling himself. Perhaps part of this is selfish. It certainly seems that way when he has Charmy’s tongue down his throat between two stacks of spare tires behind the McLaren garage. Charmy tugs at the three buttons of Miles’ polo, and Miles lets him undo them. It isn’t like he can see anything but chest fur that way. Regardless, Charmy seems pleased. The top half of his racing suit is tied around his waist, leaving his upper half just in his fitted undershirt. How had Miles believed himself to be straight before this? He allows himself to run his hands along Charmy’s arms. The driver may be small, but he’s strong under that soft exterior. Charmy grins against Miles’ mouth and flexes for him while the fox’s hand is on his bicep. Yeah. Miles isn’t straight.
“You like that, Stretch~?” Charmy giggles as Miles retracts his hand as if caught doing something illegal. He runs his hands up and down Miles’ sides, taking a break from kissing him to just stare, his eyes half-lidded as he admires him. “You can touch me, ya know. Can I touch you?”
“Wh-What..?” Miles glances around. No one is nearby, like usual. He hadn’t meant to get this involved, but… It is a good excuse to figure out if he’s really into men, right? He’s clearly into it so far, but maybe it could use some more testing just in case. Besides, if he’s playing along with this, may as well, right? No harm in giving in a little. He nods, trying to look reluctant. “Um… Okay. Yes… Just not um… Don’t be stupid.”
“Around you? Pshhh. Oh ye of too much faith or whatever.” Charmy leans in and kisses Miles’ neck. The fox sighs, and he can feel Charmy’s cheek scrunch as he smiles into his fur. This is so nice… But it won’t last forever. Miles swallows as he reminds himself of this fact. This is just until the next break between races. Then he stops it for real. It can’t keep going, because… Because. It’s Charmy. Dating within his workplace in general is already a bad idea, but this would be a scandal. It certainly feels scandalous when Charmy slides his hands up Miles’ chest, pressing to feel the muscle through the fabric and fur separating his hands from their destination. Charmy frowns, looking down at Miles’ chest. “Yo, where are your man boobs?”
“Man what?” Surely Miles is imagining things. He follows Charmy’s gaze down to his own chest. Nothing unusual. Should there be?
“Your tits. Your pecs? You don’t got any.” He resumes his exploration of Miles’ chest, leaving the fox bewildered.
“I… Yeah. I don’t do a lot of… uh… Muscle-building exercises…” Is this something people care about? Miles had never considered that. He’s always just been focused on work rather than worrying about his appearance.
Charmy nods. “I can tell. I always thought your chest was built, but I think it’s all fur. Hehe… Flat-ass~” He nuzzles the puff of chest fur sticking out from Miles’ shirt. Miles feels his face burn and he grabs Charmy’s shoulders, pushing him away.
“O-Okay. That’s enough. You have to get ready to race now. We’ve wasted enough time already.” He presses his lips together as Charmy grabs his hand and kisses his palm. The bee smiles into it and looks up at Miles with a little wink. His voice gets quieter, making Miles’ stomach twist.
“I don’t think it was a waste of time~” Then he turns and walks off to go prepare for the race. Once he disappears around the corner, Miles lets himself slump against the wall, finally taking a moment to breathe. It's easy to forget to do that around Charmy. He shakes his head to try and clear it. It doesn’t work.
“Next week,” Miles mutters to himself, fixing the buttons on his shirt, “I’ll fix this. I have to.” He runs his hands through his hair and takes a deep breath. “Let’s go win a race.”
Within a few hours, the relative quiet of the paddock has transformed into a cacophony of screaming fans, clanging equipment, and cars zooming by at 200 mph. Charmy is halfway around the track after his last pit stop, still behind the pack leaders. His voice comes through the comms into Miles’ earpiece as he passes a RedBull driver. “Hell yeah!! Take that, Carol!!”
“Charmy, focus. Don't egg her on.” Miles catches himself almost smiling. Oh great. Charmy’s humor is rubbing off on him. Now here comes the laugh…
“HA!! Egg! ‘Cause she's a bird! Nice one, Foxy!” There it is. Miles glances at one of the other engineers, who’s giving him a deeply judgemental look. He pretends he didn’t notice and looks back at his screens.
“Thank you. You’re a bit wide approaching the apex.”
“Yessir! Correcting now!” Charmy glides around the apex flawlessly, his wheels barely kissing the marker. Miles nods approvingly, even though Charmy can’t see him. He watches as the bee’s car easily overtakes the Ferrari in second place. Now it’s just him and the asshole in first place. Skylar Hawk. Of course. The race is almost over. Charmy’s voice comes through the comms again. “Hey Miles. Will you call me a good boy if I pass him~?”
Miles intentionally ignores the other engineers, knowing full-well they heard that too. He just replies, trying to sound level. “No. He could take the lead back. Win the race, then we’ll see.” That seems to do it. Charmy begins to pick up speed, fighting Skylar for the lead position. They nearly make contact several times, Skylar’s aggressive racing style coming into play now that he’s threatened. Miles leans closer to his screens, lifting a hand to hold his mic closer to his muzzle. “Charmy, don’t let him bully you out of line! You’re about to take two right turns and then go onto a straightaway, overtake him along the apexes and grab the lead!”
Charmy says something into the comms that Miles can’t make out, but he sounds excited. His car swoops into the first turn next to Skylar’s, hugging the apex just close enough to put him ahead of the Ferrari driver. Miles holds his breath, watching as Charmy pushes forward, Skylar right at his shoulder as they go into the second turn.
He makes it. The McLaren car goes flying into the straightaway just ahead of its rival, crossing the finish line first by a hundredth of a second. The McLaren engineer box goes into an uproar, the crew jumping out of their seats and hugging each other. Miles stays seated as usual, but he realizes he’s smiling. What the hell? He’s always just been glad the races are won and over, but this time, is he… Happy?
“And Charmy Bee pulls ahead just at the last second, taking first place here in Bahrain and yet again stealing away the top of the podium from five time world champion Skylar Hawk! It seems the world championship title may finally be at stake for the first time in years!”
Music to Charmy’s ears. He hoots into the comms as he heads toward his number 1 spot for parc fermé. “Miles! Miles, did you see me?? I did it!”
“I saw you!” The reply came quickly. Miles sounds… Happy? Charmy grins until his cheeks hurt, pulling into his space and scrambling to get out of his car. He's been on a roll since he and Miles got together at the start of the season. Turns out having make-out sessions—sorry, ‘stress relief’— in between races makes for good motivation. Who knew? Charmy stands on top of his car, throwing his hands into the air as the crowds along the sides of the track scream his name. No wonder his rival likes this so much. He turns over his shoulder to wave at Skylar Hawk, who's climbing out of his own car. Skylar sees him, but doesn’t wave back. Jerk.
Charmy hops down from his car and runs toward the McLaren garage, waving to his beloved fans on his way there. They're lovely, but there's only one face he wants to see before he goes up on the podium. He’s panting as he enters the garage, his pit crew surrounding him with cheers and hard claps on his back and shoulders. Charmy laughs, basking in the swarm of hugs from his team. Their voices surround him, nearly drowning out the music playing from the loudspeakers outside.
“Charmy!! Attaboy!”
“I knew you could do it!”
“What a turnaround! You kicked his ass, CB!” The other McLaren driver, Athena, rubs Charmy's head through his helmet as she joins the group, pushing his head back and forth with the force of it. He playfully shoves her hand away and manages to escape the dogpile of affection from the pit crew, backing toward the storage corner of the garage.
“Haha!! Thanks guys! Love ya, but I gotta piss like a motherfucker!” And with that weak excuse, he hurries out the side door to his and Miles’ spot, still wearing his helmet. They’d formed a clever routine now. Since Miles wouldn’t need to be in the garage during track time, they’d only meet up during the times when he’d normally be procrastinating rejoining the ever-social pit crew. So far, no one seems to have noticed their combined absence.
Miles isn’t there. Not yet. He will be. He always shows. Charmy leans against the wall to wait, letting his breathing slow back down to a normal rate. His heart, however, doesn't slow much. No, this is just as exciting as any race for him. Miles has been as hot and cold as ever, but from the sound of it, this’s gonna be one hell of a hot reward sesh. He never sounds that excited over comms.
After a few minutes, Charmy sees Miles’ limping form appear around the corner. He’s been using his cane today, which is good for his back, but it means he moves much slower than usual. Charmy doesn’t mind. He runs to meet him halfway to their favorite wall, throwing his arms around the fox. Miles drops his cane and hugs him back, pulling him flush to his own chest.
“Miles!”
“You did it. I knew you could.” Charmy melts at the affection in Miles’ words. He pulls back enough to look up into Miles’ eyes through his visor. Miles is met with his own reflection, and tuts his tongue as he pushes the visor up to return Charmy’s gaze. He leans his forehead against Charmy’s through the helmet, their eyes meeting through the opening. For a moment, they just breathe. And look. Miles’ voice is quiet as he speaks to him, never breaking eye contact. “Good boy.” Charmy’s heart skips a beat. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Miles huffs and pushes him away, his ears tinged pink. “Get that damn helmet off. Couldn’t you have spent two seconds taking it off back in the garage?”
“No way,” Charmy replies, smiling like an idiot as he works his helmet and headsock off. “If I did, I'd have to wait all that time to see you.” Charmy ignores the fact that he had plenty of time to do so while he was waiting for Miles to show up.
“How sweet.” Miles’ sarcasm is tainted with the unintentional smile that snatches the corner of his mouth when he sees Charmy’s helmet hair. He covers his mouth, quickly looking away to keep himself from laughing at the sweaty, lopsided mess. “You look like an idiot. Fix it.”
“Yeah yeah.” Charmy puts his helmet on a stack of crates and smooths down his hair, running his hands through his bangs to get them back to somewhat resembling his usual hairstyle. He looks back over at Miles, catching him sneaking a glance. Charmy bites his lip, posing for him. “How do I look, baby~?”
Miles fixes his expression back to a frown, but the flushed tips of his ears betray how he really feels. “Sweaty. Disgusting. And as I’ve said before, don’t call me that.”
“Ohh, well if I’m all gross to you, maybe we gotta take a shower then, hm~? Save some water?” Charmy slips his hands around Miles’ waist, enjoying the tiny flinch from Miles that comes with the first contact. He stands on his toes, pressing his lips to the fox’s neck. His weak spot. “What do you say, gorgeous~?”
Miles hesitates a second longer than usual before blatantly avoiding the question. “...Enough talking.” His hand slides up Charmy’s arm and shoulder, then settles on his cheek as their lips meet. Oh hell yeah. There’s that intoxicating, bitter coffee taste on Miles’ tongue. Charmy inhales as they deepen their kiss, his hands gripping onto Miles’ waist. There’s nothing like this. No one like this. Charmy smiles against Miles’ muzzle and shuffles him backwards to lean him against the wall of the garage. He slides one hand up into Miles’ fur, his wings buzzing as Miles’ thumb rubs his cheek. It’s a gentle gesture in contrast with the desperation in his lips.
Charmy bites Miles’ lip before pulling back enough to speak, their lips still touching. “You’re usin’ your cane again today. Yesterday, too. What’s the stitch?”
“Um..” Miles glances at the cane lying on the pavement nearby. “My back is giving me trouble. It hurts. My hotel has terrible beds. I should be fine next week.”
“Oh.” Charmy runs his fingers thoughtfully through the longer part of Miles’ hair. The fox leans into his touch, closing his eyes and sighing as a bit of the tension leaves his shoulders. If only he could feel relaxed like that all the time. If only he didn’t need to put up with pain all the time just because the hotel decided to cheap out on their damn beds. Charmy kisses the corner of Miles’ mouth, lowering his voice. “You can always come to my room. Me and the other drivers have our own place. It’s got good beds.”
“Wh- Absolutely not, what-” Miles gulps, his hands pulling Charmy a hair closer as he glances around again to check that they're alone. “What if we’re seen?”
“Is that the only thing stoppin’ you?” Charmy pulls back again, looking up at him. “‘Cause I’ll make sure no one sees you. And I’ll sleep on the couch. There’s one in my room.”
Miles stares at him for a long moment. Charmy can see the gears turning in his head as he considers the pros and cons. And… Whatever else is making that wrinkle between his brows deepen. Charmy reaches up and gently massages the little line. Miles closes his eyes, letting him. His voice is barely audible as he replies.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”
It’s gone too far. If it hadn’t before, it definitely has now. What was Miles thinking? Sleeping with his driver? Stupid. Stupid. But… The bed is comfortable. Miles lifts his arms over his head in a big stretch, enjoying the amount of space he has on the soft, expensive mattress. The crew are never as pampered as the drivers. Figures. He takes a deep breath, slowly opening his eyes. Yep. Not his ceiling. He risks a glance at the guy sleeping unflatteringly next to him, snoring face-down into the sheets. Yep. His golden driver. He sighs and rubs his face. Of course it wasn’t a dream. The first time he’s slept well in years and it’s because of- … Him. Miles doesn’t need this right now. He needs coffee.
The suite is a good deal larger than the one Miles was assigned. It has a full kitchenette, a tiny living room, and a gorgeous view through tall windows. Oh, if only the other crew members knew about this. They'd rampage if they weren’t all sore from sleeping on uncomfortable beds. Miles makes some instant coffee and goes to stand at the window in his boxers, looking out at the track far below him. It's early, the sun only just beginning to show over the horizon beyond the skyline. The ocean glitters in the distance, reflecting the warm golds and pinks of sunrise. The light shines through the new crystalline trophy sitting on the coffee table, bathing the room in little rainbow streaks. That's one upside to all the travel and jetlag. He never gets tired of the changes in scenery.
His peace is cut short after a few blissful, quiet minutes. He hadn’t even heard his… Whatever Charmy is to him… approach. Charmy’s arms wrap around Miles’ waist from behind, the bee’s cheek resting against his shoulder as his fingers slide into the thick fur on Miles’ chest. He’s still half-asleep, his weight leaning into Miles as he hugs him.
“Mmm… Mornin’, babe..”
“Don’t call me that. … Good morning.” Miles leans back a bit into Charmy. It still feels strange to show him affection. Even after… that. It can never happen again. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. But Miles had gone and reasoned with himself again. He's already gotten close and affectionate with Charmy, and he does want this. He doesn’t regret it, even if he probably should. Besides… If he’s going to let this all play out for the time being, why not indulge a little? Too late to go back now, anyway. Miles tries to ignore Charmy and return to looking out at the Bahrain track, but it’s difficult with the bee’s hand running along the huge scar on his back. Miles stiffens and pulls away from him, turning around to hide his back. “Don’t.”
“Oh- Sorry, Milesy. I just, um… It’s pretty.”
Pretty? Miles glares at him. “My pain is pretty to you?”
Charmy shrugs. “Yeah. I guess.” Miles’ eyes trail down to the twin scars on Charmy’s chest. Oh. Right. He looks back at the bee’s face when he stutters, running a hand through his messy bangs. “Or- I dunno, I’m not tryin’ to say I like that you’re hurt, I just… I don’t think your scar’s ugly. It’s part of you. And I think you’re pretty. Um.. A-All of you.”
Miles hesitates for a moment, then shifts to be close to Charmy again, turning to face his back toward him. Call it a sign of trust or just not wanting to see the pitiful look on the driver’s face. Either way, he does it. “Yeah. … Same to you.”
Charmy falls silent. Has no one said that to him before or something? Idiots. He hugs Miles from behind again, pressing a gentle kiss to his back. “Thanks, Miles.” He rests his face against Miles’ shoulder for a moment before pulling away, his voice regaining its usual cheer. “Sooo~ Make any coffee for me?”
“No.” To be quite honest, Miles had assumed Charmy would sleep in a bit later than he did. He also isn't used to waking up in other people's beds, so making coffee for Charmy hadn’t occurred to him. Perhaps that would be good manners? Is there a guidebook for this? Whatever. He brushes his arm against the bee's shoulder as he walks past him to the kitchenette. No harm in doing something nice for him, at least to make up for his hospitality. “I’m assuming you like it sweet?”
Charmy follows him, his wings buzzing as he grins. “You really are a genius, hotcakes~”
Miles makes a face at the petname, but decides against ruining the mood again by snapping at him. He instead makes him a cup of instant coffee with plenty of cream and sugar. He blows on it before handing it to Charmy, who takes it reverently. The bee starts blabbing about this whole morning being ‘so fucking romantic,’ but Miles has stopped paying attention. The reality of the past twelve hours is finally hitting him. His eyes trail from Charmy’s yellow and black striped boxers to his beaming face. He’s so happy… At this point, that should be enough of a sign that Miles has made a huge mistake. Whatever that insect wants is probably the wrong thing to do, after all. At least as far as their jobs are concerned. Miles comes back to reality when Charmy says his name.
“Miles? Helloooo, Earth to Miles. You in there, boo?”
“Um… Yes. I need to get out of here before the others wake up.” He puts his half-empty coffee mug in the sink and goes to collect his clothes from the floor, pulling them on as quickly as he can. Charmy follows him, leaning against the wall with his coffee held in both his hands. He sips it, watching Miles struggle with his skinny jeans.
“... You regret last night?” At this, Miles looks up, freezing mid-shirt-tuck. Charmy’s smile is gone. He just looks… Tense. Like he expected this. His thumb is picking at an imperfection in the ceramic mug. Miles lets the moment stretch, trying to figure out the answer. He doesn’t regret it. On the contrary, he’s afraid to think about the fact that it’s the only time it’ll happen. But if they do it again and get found out, they could lose everything they worked so hard for. Then again, if they don’t get discovered… He sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“No. I don't. I’m just… Scared. I guess. This is all very new to me.” This must be funny somehow, because Charmy laughs. He walks over and kisses Miles’ cheek, setting his coffee on his bedside table to help Miles button his shirt and roll his sleeves.
“I could tell~ S’okay to be new.” Miles blushes at the implication. Of course he’d make it about virginity. Miles grunts and shoves him away to fix his shirt himself. Chamy snickers behind him, and Miles throws the bee an unamused look before going to put on his boots and snatch his cane from the back of a chair. His back feels way better, but there's no way he's leaving anything of his in Charmy's room.
“Shut up. Just… When we get to work, I expect you to act like nothing happened. Our jobs are on the line. Do you understand me, Bee? Not a word.” He glares over his shoulder just long enough to see Charmy salute at him with that same stupid grin on his face.
“Yes sir, ehehe~ Wanna sleep over again in Saudi?”
Miles hesitates. “... Maybe.” And then he's gone out the door, hurrying to get out and grab a taxi before anyone comes out of their rooms and sees him.
He doesn’t like Charmy. He can’t like Charmy. It isn’t in his job description. It isn’t in his nature to like anyone. Not like that, anyway. This longing is just what happens after… that. Also what happens after a kiss, it seems. Or… No, it definitely started after their first kiss. Not before. Besides, he’s supposed to be a professional. But now, when Charmy shows up looking like a beam of light in the dreary garage, the sunlight making his highlights look like gold… His eyes finding Miles’ in the busy room, sharing a kind of smile only they know the context for… No. Absolutely not. He isn’t into him like that. He's just taking this stress relief thing too far. That’s all.
But what if that’s not all? The doubt keeps lingering in his mind. He can’t get himself to focus on his work after that night. It all just looks like numbers and words with no meaning. His whole flight to Saudi Arabia was spent with a bouncing knee and wandering thoughts. Very nice-looking, Charmy-shaped thoughts. He hasn't been responding well during press conferences. His answers are shorter and more vague than usual. His reaction time in social situations is slower. He can only use being tired as an excuse so many times. Miles sighs, putting his head in his hands. He needs to fix this. He needs an out. A way to go back to how things were before he agreed to Charmy’s stupid stress relief idea. All these feelings… They’re too complicated. He hates Charmy, but he wants to be close to him. He wants to keep his job, but he also wants to kiss him just for the heck of it, and… Now this. He’s supposed to just be a coworker, but after Bahrain, it’s… Confusing.
Maybe it’s just a simple gay crisis. Hormones. Charmy is the first man Miles has been with. It’s more than possible that these feelings are just Miles discovering he prefers men. He can live with that. Plus, it’s a good hypothesis that excludes any potentially job-threatening romantic feelings for his driver. All he needs is proof. If he can prove it isn’t Charmy that’s the issue, then he can get out with less guilt or grief. Their jobs would be safe. He wouldn’t have to come to terms with his feelings that he most certainly doesn’t have. He takes a deep breath and stands up from where he’s sitting on the pit wall. It isn’t time for anyone to be on the track yet, but he thought getting away from everyone would help him think. It did. He knows what needs to happen. All he needs now is a plan.
Miles walks back to the garage, watching the different teams milling about and preparing for this weekend’s race. Some of the drivers are chatting together, laughing at something on Travis's phone. A few engineers are divvying out a box of energy drinks among themselves to prepare for a long day. Miles has spotted several people holding muffins. Strange. Miles turns his attention back to where he’s going as he enters the McLaren garage. Inside, Charmy is chatting with Cream, who's holding a woven basket. Miles walks over, curious. Is this where the muffins came from? Cream greets him with a warm smile.
“Oh! Hi, Miles! Muffin?” She offers him the basket. Inside are a bunch of blueberry muffins that look suspiciously store-bought. Normally, he wouldn’t bother, but he hasn’t had time for breakfast yet. He reaches across Charmy and takes one, nodding to her.
“Thank you, Cream. Uh… Here to cheer on Charmy, I suppose? How was your flight?” Small talk, disgusting. It always sounds so awkward, but he doesn’t want to speak to her just to get a muffin. That would be rude, especially since they know each other. He tries to ignore the fact that Charmy is staring at him. Cream nods, tucking some fur back away from her face.
“Uh, yeah! Yeah, just here to say hi to Charm and take some pictures for our dad and brother! They aren’t big on travel, but I love it. The uh…” She glances over at the pit crew, then back at Miles. “The chao sanctuary here is lovely! They have a sick little one, so I'll probably be spending a lot of time with it.”
“Aw man, that sucks, CC.” Charmy swipes a muffin and takes a big bite out of it. From the look of it, that bite includes part of the paper. Now that Miles is looking at him, he can tell this isn’t his first muffin. There are too many pre-existing crumbs on his face for that. Charmy speaks with his mouth full, reaching his free hand over to link arms with Miles. “I’d offer to help, but me and my mans are busy.” His mans? Four days. It took him four days to crack. Great.
“Your..? Oh! Are you two a couple?” Cream smiles widely, bouncing on her heels. “That’s lovely—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Miles cuts her off, extracting himself from Charmy and throwing him a warning glare. “He’s just being annoying, as usual. We aren’t together.” He turns away, stalking to a desk to sit down again. He can still hear Cream and Charmy through the din of the garage.
“Oh… I'm sorry, Charm. Maybe someday! Oh, um… Is Gear here today? I know he doesn’t like blueberries, so I got him a different kind.”
“Oooh~ Special delivery for him, huh? You’ve been doing that a lot lately, sis~”
“Oh quiet, Charmy! I’m just being nice. He's a friend, he deserves that kind of thing.”
“Okaaayyyy~”
Miles stares at his room-temperature muffin, tuning out of their conversation. He’s heard enough. What Cream said sticks with him. 'Maybe someday?’ Did Charmy tell her about them? Or did he just say he has some kind of crush on Miles? Does Charmy like him like that? Why should Miles care if he does? He’s just a source of endorphins. That’s all he’ll ever be. Miles takes a bite of his muffin. It tastes like corn syrup.
Miles’ gears begin to turn again. Letting the situationship fade won’t work. If he can find a way to at least prove to himself that these experiences with Charmy aren’t unique, he could avoid the complications of a secret relationship. Even better, he could avoid developing feelings at all. Charmy would just be the… What’s it called… A gay awakening? That. He just needs a few more variables to prove it’s a man thing and not a Charmy thing. There are plenty of queer men in Formula 1. It shouldn’t be difficult to find a volunteer for a field test. Once he can prove he’s just gay and not falling for Charmy specifically, everything can go back to the way it was, and Charmy wouldn’t even have to know about it. If it ends up Charmy is the outlier, they can continue as they want to, or Miles can break it off and deal with the consequences of his feelings. If he isn’t unique, Miles can end it like he’d meant to before. A flawless plan. Now all he needs is a test subject.
Notes:
Ruh roh........
Chapter Text
Every time Cream moves to a new sanctuary, the chao tend to take a little while to adjust to her being there. Of course it makes sense that they’d be nervous to trust a new vet, but understanding them doesn’t make it any easier for Cream to get them to take their medicine. She gets down on the ground to be at the chao’s level, trying to show it she’s not a threat. She speaks softly, almost whispering to sound non-threatening.
“Hi, sweetie. My name is Cream. Do you have a name?” The little chao shuffles further under the bench it’s hiding underneath, the shell on its head hiding its face from her view. She sighs and rests her chin on her hands. “Mm… I get it. You probably don’t want medicine even from your favorite people, huh.”
The little creature shakes its head and lays down under the bench, watching her through the eye holes in the shell. Cream closes her eyes. Maybe pretending to sleep will help it trust her. She could use the rest, anyway. Traveling with Charmy is already exhausting from all the jet lag, but working between flights means she hasn’t had a chance to rest and recover from her flights since the season started. She’s worn out. She nearly missed the start of her shift this morning, thanks to being so tired she slept through her alarm. Cream yawns and rests her cheek on her arms, tucking them under her as she lays on her belly on the grassy floor of the sanctuary.
“Just a minute… Until you warm… up…” She feels herself begin to drift, the beginnings of a dream dancing in her head. Dream Cream is in the middle of trying to find something with protein in a candy store when Flight of the Bumblebee starts playing, jarring her out of sleep. Her phone is buzzing in her pocket. Charmy must be calling. She yawns and answers, holding the phone to her ear as she lays on the floor, not bothering to move. “Charm..? You okay?”
“You sound terrible, did you just wake up?” Charmy’s reply is as rude as ever. Cream forces herself to sit up. She won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s right.
“No, I’m at work. I'm just tired. I didn’t have time to get coffee this morning.”
“COFFEE!” Charmy yells into his phone, making Cream flinch. “Cream, you genius!”
“I… Why??” Cream looks over at the chao she’d been trying to get close to. It looks perturbed by the tinny voice coming from her phone. She mouths an apology at it and goes back to her call as Charmy rambles.
“Well I was gonna ask what to get someone to make them like-like me, but coffee is perfect! He loves coffee!” Wait… Does Charmy have a new crush? Is he finally moving on from his thing with Miles? Or… Oh boy… Cream silently prays he isn’t trying to convince the fox to love him. That’s just a recipe for disaster, but… Disaster is practically Charmy’s middle name sometimes.
“Who loves coffee..? Wait, ‘like-like?’ How old are you?” Charmy laughs obnoxiously at her questions, choosing to ignore the more important one.
“Old enough to kick ass and take names! Oh yeah, since I bet you’re probs fallin’ asleep again at work, I’m gonna send someone to help. I’m busy so I can’t.” Oh god. Her hair is a mess, and what if she falls asleep while they’re there? Cream shakes her head even though he can’t see it.
“Wh- Charmy, no! I don’t need help, I’m fine! Besides, I doubt they’ll let just anyone—” Charmy interrupts her, completely ignoring her protests.
“You’re welcome~ Love ya sis!! Go to bed early today, ‘kay?” Cream opens her mouth to argue, but… It is a lot trying to do everything with how tired she is. Help would be nice… Maybe. She sighs.
“I love you too, baby brother. I will. Promise. And… Let me know if the coffee thing goes well. I’m sure he’ll love it.” Assuming it isn't Miles. She shudders to imagine the glare he’d give someone trying to woo him with gifts. As far as she's seen, he isn't exactly the romantic type.
“You bet~ Byeee!”
“Byee, stay safe!” Her last remark is half cut off when Charmy hangs up. Of course. She puts her phone away and hugs her knees. She doesn’t like to be seen when she’s this fatigued, but at least she won’t be alone in trying to wrangle the baby chao into liking her. She’s brought back to the moment when she feels something bump into her leg. She looks down to see the chao she’d been talking to earlier standing next to her, its little arms raised to tap on her. “Aw, hey… You want up?”
It nods, so Cream very gently lifts the egghead chao into her arms, scooting to lean against one of the sanctuary’s palm trees. The chao hugs onto her, snuggling into her arms and letting off a tiny sigh. Cream smiles, closing her eyes. It'll all be okay.
Cream’s eyes flutter open as a voice calls her name. Shit, she fell asleep again. She blinks blearily up at the fluffy gray face above her. Purple eyes, pale beard… Gear? She rubs her eyes, sitting up from the tree. The chao is still tucked into her arm, shifting as her movement disturbs its sleep. Gear speaks again. He’s wearing scrubs like hers. Is she still dreaming?
“Hey, Cream. Are you okay? Charmy said you needed help.” Cream fusses with her hair, hoping she looks like less of a mess than she feels. Of course Charmy had to send Gear. The nicest-looking person she knows. Staring at her in her disheveled state. He was probably busy, too, but knowing him, he’d never miss a chance to help someone in need. She avoids making eye contact.
“Yeah, I… Sorry.”
“Huh? Why are you sorry?” Gear offers Cream a hand to help her stand and she takes it, holding the chao closer in her other arm.
“Heh, thanks… Um…” Her hand lingers in his for a moment too long before she takes it back, clearing her throat. His hands are broad and strong. She tries not to notice how his arms look in short sleeves. He’s a friend, it’s rude to stare. “Yeah, I’m just pretty tired from all the traveling, so… I can barely keep my eyes open enough to give these little guys the care they need.
“Ohh.” Gear looks around at the chao. Aside from the sleeping little one in her arms, there are a few snoozing in the grass or playing chase in the pool. He smiles, shrugging, and turns to get something from a little bundle of things he brought sitting on the bench. “Good thing I got you something, then.” Cream watches curiously as he takes out a lidded cup and carefully carries it to her with both hands. Is that…?
“Coffee?”
“Mhm! Careful, it’s really hot.” Gear smiles, looking a bit sheepish as he transfers the cup to her hand. “I didn’t know how you liked it, so I got it sweet. I hope that’s okay.” Cream takes it, smelling the coffee through the little opening in the lid. It smells like a latte. She sighs, her shoulders relaxing just at the smell of caffeine. She takes a long sip, then licks her lips, enjoying the sweet, nostalgic vanilla flavor. She smiles at Gear, who’s watching her as if worried he messed up.
“It’s perfect. Thank you so much, Gear. This is just what I needed.” She takes another sip as he sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“Oh, whew. I’m glad you like it. Here, want me to take the chao? You can take a minute.” He nods toward the baby in her arms, offering his hands toward it. She blinks in surprise and lets him take it.
“Oh, I— Sure, yeah, thank you. Are you sure? It’s been kind of standoffish all morning.” To her surprise, the little one only clings to Gear as he settles it in his arms. He smiles at her, gently rocking the chao.
“My sisters had chao growing up, so I’ve had some practice.”
“Hehe, so did I.” Cream sits back down next to the tree, and Gear joins her, sitting cross-legged on the grass. “His name is Cheese. He stays with my dad now, though. He needed him more than I did.” She stops herself from saying more. After Vanilla died, Vector wasn’t the same. He tried his best to be a good dad to everyone, but it was clear he wasn’t okay. After Cream gave Cheese to him, he seemed to feel a bit better, thankfully. He just needed to feel less alone.
“Aww, that’s so kind of you. Cheese is such a cute name, hehe… Oh, you said this guy needs medicine? Do you still have it?” He glances down at the chao in his arms. Cream nods and takes the little tablet from her pocket, handing it to Gear. He smiles thanks and gently boops the chao’s mouth under the eggshell, then puts the tablet in its mouth when it tries to bite. He shushes it softly, rubbing its throat to make it swallow. It squeaks in protest, but he manages to get it to take the pill. Cream stares at him, bewildered.
“...How did you…?” She watches as Gear shrugs, looking a little giddy that he did it right the first time.
“Like I said, there were chao in my house. You just gotta not let them know your next move. Like flickeys.” He lets the now disgruntled chao crawl off his lap to go splash in the water. Cream just watches the lynx quietly. How Charmy knew to send Gear of all people is beyond her. Did he know Gear knows how to handle chao? She didn’t know, so there's no way Charmy would, right? He wouldn’t talk to him about this stuff. But… Regardless, he's perfect. For helping her, that is. Gear turns to look at her, their eyes meeting for a tiny moment before she looks down at her coffee.
“Thank you, Gear. For… All of this. I’m sorry you had to see me like this, eheh… I’m a mess…” She looks back up at him as he chuckles, hugging his knees.
“I think you look nice.” Their eyes meet for a long moment. Cream returns his warm smile and sips her coffee, leaning back against the tree behind her. She's so lucky to have a friend like him.
He doesn’t know about anyone else, but Charmy Bee is having the best season of his goddamn life. Not only is he kicking Ferrari’s ass and taking the top of the podium nearly every race, but he has a gorgeous boyfriend of an engineer to wake up to in the mornings. Well, not every morning. And not technically his boyfriend either, but pretty damn close. He’s had official girlfriends with less chemistry before, so all that’s really missing is the title. Whatever Miles is, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to Charmy. He’s handsome, he’s smart, he’s practical, and he’s a hell of a good kisser.
Speaking of Miles, there he is, sitting at his wall desk, looking broody as ever. Charmy walks into the garage a bit later than usual, but with good reason. He got coffee. Himself. He even argued with the barista about whether or not an americano is the same thing as black coffee. Charmy still believes they’re the same. He practically skips over to Miles, one hand holding a hot coffee with nothing, the other holding a sugary frappe topped with honey and whipped cream. He glances around to make sure no one is watching before he swoops in and kisses Miles on the cheek.
“Good mowrning, kitten~ You wook qwuite pwetty. Mmm, today’s gonna be a vewwy good day fowr daddy~” He grins as Miles slowly turns to face him with a look of pure repulsion. He leans away from him, not bothering to take the coffee Charmy is holding out for him.
“What the hell is wrong with you..??” Charmy shrugs at Miles’ question.
“Prob’ly a lot! Why?”
“Never. Call me ‘kitten.’ Again. Ever. Do you understand me? And I told you to stop doing that voice.” He narrows his eyes as Charmy sighs dramatically.
“Sheeeesh, you’re such a buzzkill sometimes! Finnneee. But only if I can call you—”
“No.” Miles cuts him off before he can say something even worse. “Just— What do you want? I'm busy and I didn’t have time to get coffee.”
Charmy grins and holds the americano out for him again. “Aaand the fox rolls a nat 1 in perception! I got you coffee, babe. Plain, like you like it.” Miles seems too amazed by the gesture to notice the petname, meaning Charmy got away with it. Nice~ The fox just stares at the cup for a moment before cautiously taking it and removing the lid to see proof that it’s really black coffee. It is. He glances briefly at Charmy before taking a sip. His shoulders relax a bit.
“Mm. Thank you. Um… How did you know how I like my coffee?” He takes another sip, closing his eyes.
“I can taste it on your tongue when we make out~” At this, Miles chokes on his coffee, coughing while Charmy pats him on the back, flashing a smile at a pit crew member walking by.
“Don’t-” Miles coughs again. “Don’t say that in public..!” He looks up at Charmy, his ears flat to his head.
“No one’s listening, boobear. Besides, even if they were, they wouldn’t care.”
“I would.” Oh. Right. Charmy keeps smiling through Miles’ intense glare until the fox gives up and goes back to his coffee, drinking it in small sips. Charmy’s hand still rests on his back. He gently rubs his thumb on Miles’ shoulder, lowering his voice.
“I’m sorry. Make it up to you later?” He watches as Miles considers this, then nods. Success. Charmy rubs his back, then pulls away. “Good. Be nice to taste that coffee on ya, big boy~” He giggles as Miles chokes on his coffee again, coughing into his hand. Charmy sits down in the chair next to him, taking long sips from his frappe while leaning his cheek in his hand, his elbow resting on the fold-out table. His eyes follow the angles of Miles’ face as the fox recovers from their conversation, only taking his gaze away to wave to Mark that he’s fine as the otter stops to check on him. Charmy watches Mark go back to his work before returning to his hobby of admiring Miles. To his surprise, Miles is now staring back. His voice is very quiet when he speaks.
“Thank you for the coffee. But you need to go.” Not this again… Charmy groans his disappointment, but doesn’t move. Miles’ eyes narrow. “Charmy.”
“Ughhh, fine, fine. I know when I’m not wanted.” He gets up, his coffee straw in his mouth as he turns to go find someone else to bother. He’s stopped by a nervous hand on his wrist. He turns to see Miles holding onto him, his face turned away from him. The angle doesn’t fully hide the soft blush on his cheeks.
“... I don’t… not want you. We have to be careful. You know that.” Charmy stares at him for a moment before taking his gloved hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I don’t want to mess this up.” Miles’ words make Charmy’s heart skip a beat. That sounds romantic. Is it romantic? Is this really happening? He smiles and rubs the back of Miles’ hand with his thumb.
“We’ll be okay, beautiful. Trust.” He lets go of Miles’ hand and has to force himself not to skip on his way to go make Mark’s life a living hell.
Charmy called him beautiful. No one has ever called him that. Miles shakes his head to try and get the flutters out of his stomach, but it doesn’t do much to help. Stupid, idiotic bee. Miles should hate him like usual. He should be able to easily shut out any affectionate thoughts about him with a mental reminder of how irritating Charmy is. But… It doesn't work this time. Perhaps he’s gone soft. Gotten too close. That must be it. He has to figure this out before it goes any further. Thankfully, he has a plan.
His target is none other than Skylar Hawk. Charmy’s arch nemesis. Skylar has been known to be loose with his… interpersonal activities… and he’s enough of an enemy of McLaren to not raise any suspicions of alliances if he’s caught being close to him. On top of that, he isn’t a gossip. No one will know. He’s just the man Miles needs. Or, at least, he’ll do. He isn’t exactly appealing to Miles, due to his nasty arrogance and overly-flirtatious demeanor, but at least he can help him find out what these feelings are.
Miles takes another deep breath as he finds himself approaching the Ferrari garage. This is it. The first step toward an answer. Skylar is laughing and chatting with some of his pit crew while they work on his car, charming as ever. Nothing is happening today other than maintenance, simulator practice, and strategy planning, so thankfully, not many cameras are around. It's perfect timing. Miles walks up to the entrance of the garage, where Skylar is leaning against the metal garage door frame, exchanging some kind of raunchy inside joke with one of the mechanics about what sounds like her boyfriend.
“Pfft… Hey, don’t worry, he can take it. He said he could take—” He pauses as Miles stops in front of him. His eyes slowly rake up and down the fox’s body before settling on his eyes. A smug smile spreads across his beak as he crosses his arms. “Well hello there~ What do we have here? Defecting from McLaren to join the winning team?” Skylar chuckles as a couple mechanics cheer in response to his claim. Miles just glares at him, ignoring the few Ferrari crew members who've turned to watch them.
“No. I need to speak with you.” He narrows his eyes as Skylar raises his eyebrows, waiting for Miles to speak. Instead, he just adds, “Alone.” Skylar sighs and pushes away from the wall, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he calls over his shoulder to his team.
“The fox wants my attention, auguratemi buona fortuna. I will not be long.” He looks down at Miles, moving to stand a bit too close to him for comfort. He smells like expensive cologne. It’s different than Charmy’s. Stronger. “Lead the way, volpe bionda.”
Miles says nothing as he turns and walks back the way he came from, leading Skylar to his and Charmy’s spot behind the McLaren garage. He wouldn’t usually want anyone else to know about their place, but he can’t be sure of any other safe places around the paddock. He can’t risk being discovered. This is at least someplace where he feels safe to experiment. Skylar doesn’t question it, at least not out loud. When Miles turns around to look at him once they’re alone, the hawk just has a look on his face as if he’s confused, but enjoying the mystery. Miles clears his throat, standing awkwardly near the make-out wall as Skylar waits for him to speak. He runs through a few different ways to go about this in his head before deciding on the direct approach.
“... I need you to kiss me.” He finally looks up at Skylar, meeting his eyeline for the first time since they left the Ferrari garage. He’d never seen the driver look so utterly flabbergasted before. Of course, it makes sense. Miles is known to be incredibly reserved, so this must be a shock for him beyond it being an untoward request in general. A painful spike of anxiety runs through Miles’ chest. He fidgets, feeling awkward now that Skylar hasn’t said anything for an extended moment. Damage control. Miles needs to do damage control before this turns into another Charmy situation. “I… I do not like you. Don’t get confused. I am doing an experiment, due to some… Confusing feelings… I’ve been experiencing lately. I need to perform a field test of sorts to see if my issue is specific, or— Uh.”
He stutters to a stop when Skylar approaches him, making Miles stumble backward until his back is pressed against the wall. Skylar comes to stand so close to him that their chests are nearly touching. He lifts a hand to gently hold Miles’ chin, a thumb brushing over his bottom lip. Skylar smiles as he speaks, his voice deeper and quieter than usual. His cologne is definitely too strong.
“Eheh… Do not worry. I am quite familiar with these kinds of… ah… situations~” Did he just accentuate his own accent? Miles gulps, glancing at Skylar’s beak. Is this a bad idea? His voice cracks a bit when he mumbles a reply.
“I m-must request that you keep this a secret. I can’t let this get out.” He squints his eyes as Skylar lifts his face so their mouths are nearly touching. Skylar’s breath warms his muzzle. It smells like breath mints. When did he take breath mints? Did he know Miles gets nostalgic with mint? No, no. Probably not. Miles licks his lips, nervous. This isn’t right. He wants to pull away, to go find Charmy and just give up any hope of leaving the bee behind, but he can’t. This is important. He manages one more word. “Promise…”
“I promise, bello. Do not worry. My lips are sealed. Or, well… They will be~” He leans in, his mouth meeting Miles’ in a single experimental kiss. Skylar’s free hand finds Miles’ arm, using it to brace the fox against the wall, shifting ever closer to him as he kisses him again. Skylar is taller than Miles by a few inches, so for once, Miles has to look up to kiss someone. It isn’t a terrible experience, but Miles feels a bit crowded. It doesn't feel that way when Charmy does it. He closes his eyes as Skylar’s beak teases his mouth open. The hawk tilts his head to kiss him open-mouthed, his tongue slipping into Miles’ mouth and licking along his sharp teeth.
Technically, it’s perfect. Skylar is good at kissing. He’s experienced, and it shows in his proper form. His hands are wandering, but not crossing any important lines. His grip on Miles has moved from his bicep to his waist, his thumb rubbing circles on Miles’ shirt fabric. His tongue tastes like mint and expensive coffee. He’s staying quiet, but the sound of his heavy breathing is appealing to Miles’ senses. But… Despite all of this, Miles feels nothing. He’s just… Following Skylar’s lead. He doesn’t feel that fluttering feeling in his stomach that he often feels with Charmy. He doesn’t feel drawn to kiss Skylar deeper, or savor how he tastes, despite the minty flavor. He doesn’t feel tempted to touch the hawk, so he keeps his hands down at his sides while Skylar holds him. If anything, he feels… Bored. Miles finds himself just waiting for the kiss to be over. He almost misses Charmy. Interesting.
After another brief moment and another tug of Skylar pulling him closer, Miles places a hand on the hawk's chest, pushing him away. Skylar obliges, breaking away from the kiss and stepping back just enough to give Miles some room to move. He wipes his and Miles’ spit from his own beak, giving the fox a sly grin.
“Good, no? Is it everything you hoped for?” He looks Miles up and down before adding, “We can continue at my room later if you would like to~”
“No.” Miles fixes his shirt and wipes his mouth on his glove. “I got what information I needed. I think. Or… Hm. Perhaps there are more variables involved than I expected.” He takes a mental note of how many things are different. For one, Skylar is much taller than Charmy. Perhaps Miles prefers those shorter than him. He also has a beak, while Charmy doesn’t. That could be a large factor. He decides to log this in a file on his laptop later and holds a hand out for Skylar to shake. “Thank you for your cooperation. This was… Educational.”
“Uh…” Skylar stares at him for a long moment, as if unsure what to do with his lack of emotion. He shrugs and takes his hand, shaking it before leaning down and kissing the back of it. “Anytime, handsome. Truly. I’m a call away~ I hope you can figure out whatever is going on with your ah… Crisis~” He winks at Miles and puts his hands back in his pockets as he turns and walks away, probably back toward his own garage.
Miles watches him go, then sighs and sits down against the wall. Instead of feeling more certain about his emotions, he feels even more confused than before. Despite Skylar doing everything right, it wasn’t the same. Is that normal? Surely not, right? He scrubs his hands up and down his face. He needs more data. He can’t let himself fall too quickly into this… thing with Charmy before he’s certain it’s only him that’s the issue. He mumbles to himself, his voice muffled by his hands.
“Please… Don’t be Charmy…” Miles falls silent , wishing for it to just be a case of having a type. It would be way easier to break it off if that were the case… If Charmy hadn’t become important to him. Or… Is it already too late for that?
Miles’ ear twitches as he hears footsteps approach. His gut drops. Did Skylar come back to try and get more? He lifts his head to see Charmy rounding the corner of the garage, typing something on his phone. Miles’ phone buzzes a moment later, making Charmy jump, startled as he looks up to see Miles sitting on the ground in front of him.
“Woah! Hey babe, uh… You reading minds now or some biz? I just texted to see if you wanna swap some spit.” He hurries over to help Miles stand up, offering himself as support. Miles takes the help, rolling his eyes at Charmy's phrasing. He brushes himself off, not making eye contact.
“Do not call me that. And… No. I came out here to get air. I’ve had a lot on my mind.” He finally looks up as Charmy takes his hand. His touch is as gentle as his expression.
“You wanna talk about it?” Oh god. Shit. Miles’ heart skips a beat at the affection in Charmy’s gesture. He shakes his head, once again averting his gaze. He can’t share this. Not with him. He wouldn’t understand. Miles needs to leave before he tries to kiss him, too. If he tastes someone else on his tongue somehow… That’d be it. Charmy laces his fingers with Miles’. “Mmkay. I’m here if you wanna. Anywayyyy, you wanna make out?” Miles opens his mouth to say no, but is stopped by Charmy sniffing the air. “Wait, do you smell that? It’s like… Cologne.”
Crap. Miles frowns, adjusting his hold on Charmy’s hand. Regardless of the results of his test… It is nice to hold someone casually like this. As long as no one can see them, of course. “No. I don’t know. I thought it was yours.”
“Pshhh, you know that ain’t mine.” Of course he knows. He’s extremely familiar with Charmy’s signature scent. The memory of it is so vivid, he can smell it on command if he wants to. He’ll never admit it, but he’s actually done that a few times since their first night together.
“I thought you were trying something new. I was going to tell you to change back to the original one.” Miles hates how easy it is for him to lie about this. Desperate times, perhaps. He feels sick. Charmy grins and leans up to kiss his cheek.
“You’re such a simp~ So, kiss time?” He grins, completely unaware of the turmoil inside Miles’ head. The fox can’t meet his eyes. His stomach is twisting into knots. He just shakes his head.
“Not right now. Let’s just… Can we just sit?” There goes his heart again. Charmy smiles and pulls him back to the wall, sitting down next to him and laying his head on Miles’ shoulder as he takes out his phone.
“Hell yeah. I found a playthrough of that one platformer game I told you about so you can see it. Here.” Miles rests his cheek on Charmy’s head, watching his phone screen but not really paying attention. He can’t stop noticing the difference between how he feels now versus how he did with Skylar. Emptiness versus this feeling of… What, safety? Affection? Disgusting. But… At least he can enjoy this while he has it. He kisses Charmy’s head and rests against him again as they hold hands, silently watching some tiger on a screen play a game Miles doesn’t care about.
Notes:
Oooooohhhhhh boy......
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Chapter Text
It’s a good weekend. Charmy made pole in qualifying. Again. At this point, it’s practically a given that he does. Miles spent the night in Charmy's hotel room again after that. They had takeout and fell asleep watching some stupid chick flick about a lawyer. Despite Miles’ complaining, he didn’t hate it. He also didn’t hate waking up to find Charmy making him an unnecessarily elaborate breakfast. The developing domesticity of their relationship is… Unsettling. Miles could all too easily let himself fall into it. One more slip of the tongue and he may end up calling Charmy his- No. Miles shouldn't even think it. Not now. Hopefully not ever, but especially not in this moment.
Miles leans his arm against the wall behind the man wedged between him and the cool cinder blocks. He isn’t used to being the one in control, and he isn’t sure he likes it. It’s uncomfortable. It’s awkward. His back hurts, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with his hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as Rory the Cicada shoves his tongue deeper into Miles’ mouth, the fox forcing himself not to push the Alpine reserve driver away. After things with Skylar were inconclusive, he began to think about the variables. Skylar and Charmy have very little in common. Not only is Skylar much taller, but he's a bird. His mouth is much different from Charmy’s. This could be the cause of Miles’ lack of feeling with Skylar in contrast with how he feels with his own driver. If Miles can replicate the sensation of kissing Charmy, that may wield more results than kissing someone with drastically different features. That's what led him to Rory. Not only is he about the same height as Charmy, but he’s also a bug type, so they have similar mouth shapes. In addition, he’s also annoying and a well-known flirt, just like Charmy. What Miles didn't expect was the fact that Rory is a whole new level of irritating. Apparently there are several things about this guy that make the fox miss his own driver's touch.
Rory slides his hands into Miles’ hair, wrapping a leg around his hip despite Miles making no attempts to touch him. Miles grunts as the weight of Rory’s leg on him sends a sharp twinge of pain through his back. The cicada had been eager to kiss Miles, but this is… A lot. He halfway unzipped his own suit at some point, and Miles definitely did not begin his day expecting to discover through experience that Rory has sharp teeth. He tastes sickeningly sweet. How much candy does this guy consume? The fox finally places his hand on Rory’s shoulder, pushing him backward and making the cicada stumble as his leg falls away from Miles’ hip. Unfortunately, Rory mistakes this for an advance. He bites his bottom lip, letting himself fall back against the wall as he looks up at Miles through his eyelashes. His voice comes out in a thick French accent as he leans back against his own wings.
“Mmm, you pamper me, no? You want to do this right here~?” Rory giggles as the engineer stumbles back away from him. Miles suddenly feels sick. Just the suggestion of that is horrifying.
“God. No. I already told you, I’m just… Figuring something out.” MIles fixes his hair, trying in vain to ignore the pain in his back. He’s never kabedonning someone again.
“So figure it out in my hotel bedroom, mon beau~ Let us go now, I will be your chauffeur."
“Rory, no. I’m not trying to hook up with you, just… Shit, you’re gonna talk…” Of course Miles forgot to account for the worst part of Rory’s personality… He’s an insatiable gossip. Miles had been so focused on his similarities with Charmy that he hadn’t considered the downsides enough. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He needs to fix this. “Okay, look. I was confused and wanted to find out if I may be into men, but clearly I’m not. So… If you could please keep this between us. That is all I ask.”
Rory stares at him, clearly disappointed. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a sucker and unwrapping it. He pops it into his mouth and crosses his arms.
“You are a coward.” Ouch. Miles nods.
“I… Yes. I am.” More than Rory knows. More than Miles is willing to admit. He looks around to make sure no one has noticed them. Thankfully, the spot behind the McLaren garage is quiet as ever. He looks back up as Rory pushes himself away from the wall, walking up to the fox with the sucker between his fingers.
“You are a stupid, stupid man, Mile.”
“Miles.”
“You are also a very incompétent kisser. I hope whoever you wish to impress enjoys this.” He leans up to kiss Miles one more time. Miles stiffens, leaning back away from him to try and make the kiss end sooner. Once their lips part, Rory puts his candy back in his mouth and walks away with his hands in his pockets, his hips swaying obnoxiously. Miles wipes his mouth on the back of his glove. So the subject having a similar body and personality weren’t the issues. If they were, Miles wouldn’t feel so… Disgusted. Rory is generally fine as far as appearance goes, but he was way too forward for Miles’ liking when they kissed. And now Miles may have jeopardized everything by spacing the reserve’s issue with sharing other people's private business. Knowing him, the press would know everything about Miles’ kissing styles by race time… Hopefully he’ll understand and keep it to himself for once.
Miles grunts, easing himself down to sit on a crate near the wall. His back was already iffy today, but after leaning against the wall over Rory, then the guy putting all of his weight on Miles’ hip… He cusses under his breath. He didn’t need a flare up today. He takes out his phone to read the texts Charmy had been sending him while he dug his hole of guilt even deeper with Rory. He had felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, but knew if he checked it, Rory would either ask about it or read them himself. If the gossip had known about that bit of the story… Miles isn’t sure he’d be able to recover from that. He shudders at the thought and focuses on the spam Charmy sent him. Miles feels himself almost smile at the line of messages as he reads them.
“heyyyyyyyy”
“heeey hey hey hey”
“did u see me? POLE”
“POLE BABYYYYYY”
“yo?”
“baby where r uuuuuuuu”
“hey Miles listen to this”
“are u satan’s sharpie? cause ur fine as hell <3”
“no srsly where tf r u”
“babe I'm getting worried helloooo”
“oh wait r u taking a dump or smth”
“nice ass”
“ha ha”
“>:(“
Miles shakes his head and messages back. “Sorry. You’re right, I was occupied.” He hesitates before sending a second message. “Can you help me?”
Charmy reads the messages. There’s a pause, then he answers. “omfg u okay? Did u fall and break ur butt haha”
“No.” Miles rolls his eyes. “I’m having a flare up. I’m at our spot.” Thinking quickly, he adds, “I thought you would be here.”
Charmy reads the messages, but doesn’t reply. Miles almost sends another text demanding Charmy’s attention, but not before the bee rounds the corner holding Miles’ cane and bag from his cubby. He must have come running as soon as he read the texts. He hurries to Miles’ side and sits next to him, taking out a portable heating pad from his bag.
“Is it your lower back?”
“Yes.” Miles closes his eyes as Charmy wraps the heating pad around his back, the driver’s hands extra gentle as he moves around him. For once, Miles is grateful for their long history. Charmy has helped him a few times before with his pain, but until now, it’s never felt so intimate. So comforting. Miles can’t bring himself to look at him. He instead feels around for Charmy’s hand, quickly finding it and holding it tight. Charmy is silent for a moment before he squeezes Miles’ hand, kissing the back of it. His voice is soft as he speaks against Miles’ glove, his brow knit with worry.
“What happened, boo?” After how awful and overwhelming Rory was, Charmy’s voice is a breath of fresh air. Miles rubs his hand with his thumb, seeking comfort he isn’t sure he deserves anymore.
“It’s just been a day. I forgot my cane at my desk and… I tried to pick up something heavy. You know the rest.” He glances at Charmy. Can he tell Miles is lying? The bee is watching him with eyes full of concern, and… Something else.
“So… You called me?”
“I… Yes. Of course I did.” Shit. Shit shit shit, Charmy is taking this the wrong way. At least he doesn’t seem to be picking up on the fact that Miles’ story is conveniently vague, but somehow him swooning feels worse. Miles watches as Charmy’s eyes water. The bee smiles and takes Miles’ face in his hands, leaning in to kiss him. Miles flinches at first, but oh… This is what he missed in the arms of that stupid reserve driver. Miles kisses him back, closing his eyes. He feels his muscles relax as Charmy strokes his cheek with his thumb. Miles lifts a hand to gently comb his fingers through Charmy’s damp curls. Miles hadn’t noticed it before they became close, but Charmy’s hair always gets curly when it’s wet. He must usually straighten it. For some reason, he likes knowing these little things. Miles sighs softly into the kiss, letting the touch calm him. Charmy is so familiar now. Kissing him is like second nature, though it feels like first nature at the very least. Is that a thing? Whatever. To Miles’ dismay, Charmy pulls back just enough to speak against his lips.
“Miles, I…” The fox’s gut drops. Please, no. Don’t say it. “I’m so glad you trust me.” Oh. Right. Good. Is he feeling disappointed…? No, of course not. That’s stupid. Miles nods, looking down as their hands find each other again.
“Yes.”
“Are you feeling any better with the hot pad?” Charmy gently rubs Miles’ upper back. It feels nice. It does little to help the knot of guilt in Miles’ chest, but at least his touch is soothing to his aching back.
“Yes. I am. Thank you.” Miles squeezes his hand. “... Um. You did well today.” He watches as Charmy lights up, that charming gappy grin appearing yet again. Miles finds himself admiring the way that stupid joy in his eyes makes his whole aura seem brighter.
“Ayyyy, hell yeah I did, baby! Pole, yet again! Woo woo! Go McLaren!” Charmy’s wings buzz as he pumps a fist in the air. Miles feels a smile appear on his face despite himself. It’s nice to see Charmy this happy. No matter how much Miles wants to escape this weird situationship with him, he’ll never get tired of that smile.
“Heh. Go McLaren.” He watches as Charmy laughs, then turns back to meet his gaze. They stare at each other for a long moment before Charmy scoots a little closer and gently rests his head against Miles’.
“Wanna come over tonight? I know my bed’s comfier than yours. Might help your old-man-back.” He smiles as Miles nods, ignoring Charmy’s intentionally inaccurate diagnosis. The fox closes his eyes.
“If you don't mind.”
“I never mind that, hotpants~” Charmy kisses the fox again, gently rubbing his knee with his pinkie as they wait out Miles’ flare up together.
After Miles is settled back at his desk, Charmy goes off to find somewhere with more energy drinks. He’s usually a Monster guy, thanks to the sponsor, but the McLaren crew cooler hasn’t been refilled yet since this morning. Charmy still needs his caffeine, though. Time to defect to the enemy. He ties the upper half of his suit around his waist as he wanders toward the RedBull garage, swinging his arms around as he looks around for a cooler. He waves to Carol as he lingers near the entrance to the garage, distracting the other driver from a conversation with her race engineer.
“Heeeyyy Carol! You uh… Got any power-ups in here?” He grins as Carol grumbles and stalks up to him, crossing her arms as she stops in front of him like a bouncer.
“Get out of here, you cheeky twat. Think you’ll be taking our team secrets, do you?”
“Uuhhhhhhh… Secrets? I mean, if your secret is 16 ounce energy drinks, then sure, I guess? Ooh, do you have 20 ounce?” Carol narrows her eyes, staring him down. Charmy just smiles at her. She acts scary, but it’s all for show. She huffs and tosses her yellow bangs, backing down.
“Fine. We have the big ones. Stay here. I’ll get you one. But only one! Greedy bastard.” She walks back into the garage, grumbling under her breath. Charmy sighs, watching his feet as he waits. He wants to get back to Miles as soon as he can. He seemed so clingy after Charmy helped him. He doesn’t want to leave him alone for too long. That look he gets when he’s being vulnerable… God, it makes Charmy’s heart do flips in his chest. Is this what love feels like? Naw, too early for that. Right? Or at least, too early for him to say it. Charmy rocks on his heels, lifting his gaze at some movement coming at him from the direction of the track.
Charmy yelps as someone much bigger than him grabs his arm, roughly dragging him around the corner behind the RedBull garage. He stumbles after his captor, opening his mouth to protest, but he doesn’t have time to say anything before he's shoved hard into the garage wall. His back hits the hard concrete as Skylar Hawk looms over him, sending a shooting pain through his wings as they’re crushed under him. The Ferrari driver leans closer to Charmy, his beak red with anger as he growls in his face.
“You are this close to becoming roadkill, insect.”
“Shit- Skylar, let me go! I don’t have time for this!” Charmy writhes, but Skylar just grabs the front of his undershirt, lifting him off the ground and slamming him even harder into the wall. Charmy winces as the impact knocks some air out of him. He coughs, using his hands to try in vain to claw Skylar’s hand away from him as he kicks the air.
“Remember what I told you, little man? I am the champion. Not you. Me. And if you do not understand this, go on. Continue driving as you have been. You’re good. But no one beats Skylar Hawk.”
“Did you just… Refer to yourself in third person? Weirdo, heh- AH” He barely moves his head out of the way before Skylar’s fist makes contact with the wall where his face had been. The hawk hisses at the pain of his knuckles hitting concrete, and his glare hardens as he shakes out his bruising hand. He grips Charmy’s collar in both hands, shaking him to prove a point. The jostling movement makes the back of Charmy’s head knock against the wall.
“This is your last warning. Stop winning. Do what you must. I will not tell you how. But. Do it. I will not be second to a gnat.” Skylar gives Charmy one last painful shove into the wall, then drops him, walking off back toward his own garage. Charmy lands on the ground, but he doesn’t get up quite yet. He gives himself a minute, moving to sit up against the wall and breathe. He was lucky this time.
Charmy runs a hand through his hair, taking out his phone to text Miles. He doesn’t have anything to say, but… Maybe it’ll help to talk to him.
“hey kitten do u want a redbull?” He rubs his face. That punch would’ve really hurt. Miles texts him back.
“No. Do not call me that.” Charmy smiles weakly. Cute. He stiffens as someone walks up to him, their shadow startling him. He looks up, lifting an arm to shield himself as he expects Skylar to be standing over him. Thankfully, it’s only Carol, holding a can of RedBull.
“.... Why’re you on the ground?”
“Oh, uhhh…” Charmy pushes himself to his feet, brushing himself off. “I… I got bored? Anyway, thanks, Car. Tell Daisuke I said hey.”
“Uh… Sure.” She watches as Charmy takes the can and hurries back toward his own garage. He knows he looks shaken up. He feels shaken up. Thank god he can go home soon. All he wants now is to cuddle with his boyfriend and watch the second Legally Blonde movie and not think about what’ll happen when he wins his first world championship.
Gear nods along to the music in his earbuds as he installs a fresh side panel on the chassis of Charmy’s car. He mouths along with the lyrics, barely pronouncing them under his breath.
“Can we go home now, it’s getting later, baby… can we go home now, you think it’s time to give up… we’re on our own now—” He jumps, startled when he looks up to see someone standing right next to him. He tears out his earbuds as he stands up, feeling his cheeks burn. He’s been warned before not to have both earbuds in when he’s working. Thankfully, the person standing there isn’t in a McLaren uniform. No, the beautiful woman before him is in a green skirt with ruffles on the edge and a pink cardigan with big sleeves that makes her look like a flower. Cream giggles, hiding her smile behind one of the coffees in her hands.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your song~” As if she’s any kind of interruption. Gear takes off his gloves, pocketing them as he stares at her. Did she do her makeup differently? He can never tell those things, but she’s lovely nonetheless.
“Oh, don’t worry, I listen to it all the time. I’d rather talk to you, anyway.” He smiles as she laughs again.
“Hehe aww~! You’re so nice, Gear. Here! I got you a coffee to repay you for the one you got me back at the sanctuary that time.” She holds out a coffee for him. “I’ll admit I may have asked around to find out what you like, eheh… I hope it’s okay.” She did all of that… For him? He gulps and takes it carefully from her hands.
“Hey, whatever it is, it’ll be perfect, right? Coffee is coffee.” He takes a sip. It’s sweet and creamy, with that nice foam on top that he likes. He licks his lips and looks back at her with raised eyebrows. “You’re incredible, this is actually perfect! Consider the favor thoroughly repaid, Miss Cream~” Gear takes another long sip of his coffee, closing his eyes to enjoy it even better. He sighs contentedly and licks the foam from his lip as he turns his gaze back to her. She’s holding the other coffee carefully. It’s a huge blended coffee with lots of toppings… Not really her style. He nods to it. “Is that for Charmy?”
“Oh!” She looks down at it as if only just remembering it’s there. “Yeah, it is. Do you know where he is?”
Gear shakes his head. “Mm, no. He ran off not long ago. Said something about a bathroom emergency. I didn’t wanna ask.” The two of them look back down at the big fancy coffee.
“... Maybe this isn’t gonna be good for him today… But I don’t like these…” She frowns to herself. It’s a small issue, but she looks so worried. Gear almost reaches out to touch her arm, but he decides against it.
“I’m sure someone else will take it, don’t worry. Hey, um… Since you don’t have a coffee, why don’t I treat you to something? Dinner maybe? Since you did all that work to make sure my coffee was perfect, I think it’s only fair, right?” He smiles as Cream’s cheeks turn a tiny bit pinker. Everything she does seems so elegant. She shakes her head, waving her free hand around as she talks.
“Oh! No, I couldn’t accept that. Then I’d owe you a meal out and it’d be a whole thing.” Gear wouldn’t mind if it became a thing, but he just nods. If she doesn't want that, there’s no reason to force it.
“Heh, you’ve got a point. Here, how about this instead…” He goes to a nearby worktable and rummages until he finds a scrap of unused paper and a pen. He scribbles out his phone number on it and hands it to her. “Anytime you need something, just give me a call. O-Or a text, or… You get the idea.” Cream takes the piece of paper, studying it for a moment before giggling quietly, looking up at him as if something is funny. Gear grins. “What?”
“You could have just put it in my phone?” Oh. Oh yeah. He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Ehh, I uh… Guess it slipped my mind. I can do that, too.” Cream shakes her head again, holding the paper close to her chest.
“No, I love it. It reminds me of the good old days, hehe! Um… Thank you, Gear. Really. You have no idea how much you helped back there.” Gear lets his eyes wander her face for a moment. She still looks tired, but… Better. If he looks close, he can tell she put on some kind of makeup under her eyes to hide her dark circles. Is she still not sleeping well? He nods, remembering he needs to respond.
“Anytime. I mean that.” And he does. She smiles, holding the paper a little closer as she turns to watch the other members of the pit crew go about their work. Gear’s eyes stay softly admiring her. She’s so kind.
File name: kiss_analysis.doc
Variable: Charmy
- Short
- Bug type
- Annoying
- Initiator
- Smells nice
- Looks: 9
- Personality: 5
- Kissing skills: 10
- Compatibility: 9
Notes: I think I have emotional attachments to him due to our history and intimacy. I trust him. Mostly.
Variable: Skylar
- Tall
- Bird type
- Annoying
- Initiator
- Smells nice but too strong
- Looks: 8
- Personality: 4
- Kissing skills: 8
- Compatibility: 3
Notes: Pushy, seems somewhat trustworthy.
Variable: Rory
- Short
- Bug type
- Annoying
- Not an initiator
- Smells unpleasant and way too strong
- Looks: 6
- Personality: 2
- Kissing skills: 6
- Compatibility: 4
Notes: Very pushy, presumptuous. French, uses too much tongue, not trustworthy. Do not divulge.
Miles looks over the notes on his laptop after adding the latest entry. So far, it feels… Disorganized. He isn’t quite sure what he’s looking for, but so far, nothing is adding up. There must be some kind of formula or trigger for Miles’ attraction to Charmy, right? Something specific that’s causing this attachment. Despite the alleged popularity of both of his subjects, neither of them made him feel the way Charmy does. Skylar is good-looking, but too much is different between him and Charmy. Rory is similar to Charmy in features, height, and personality, but something about him makes Miles want to take a shower. Maybe his cologne was too strong. Maybe it was the fact that he thought Miles wanted… Eugh. Miles shudders at the thought.
He looks up as Charmy comes out of his bathroom just in sweatpants and a towel around his shoulders. Miles switches to a different window as the bee walks over to sit next to him. He’s gotten used to being at Charmy’s hotel rooms now after races. Miles would never admit it, but he feels a bit lonely on the days he spends alone. Regardless, he still gets irritated when Charmy infiltrates his personal space as if he owns it. It isn’t like Miles was in the middle of something, right? Oh wait. He was. Charmy flops over to lay his head in Miles’ lap, closing his eyes with a happy sigh. His hair is wet. Not even damp, wet. Miles makes a face, lifting his laptop away from the hazard and nudging Charmy’s head away with his elbow.
“Hey!! At least dry off before bothering me. I’ve had a day. Don’t make it worse.” He glares at Charmy as the bee sits up, giving him a smug smile as if he won something. Won what, though? Miles frowns a bit harder, but it doesn't seem to register, since Charmy’s expression doesn’t change.
“Heh~ You’re cute. Dry me?” He takes the towel from his shoulders and offers it to Miles. Miles looks at it, then back at Charmy. He should be off-put by this offer, but… He isn’t. These little moments between them are weird, but he kind of likes taking care of someone and being taken care of. He sets down his laptop on the footrest and takes the towel, pressing his lips together against the gnaw of guilt in his belly. Is he allowed to enjoy this? He isn’t exactly Charmy’s boyfriend. He sure isn’t acting like it. He swallows his nervous thoughts and scoots to face Charmy a bit better.
“Don’t move.” That came out less harshly than Miles meant it to.
“Yes sir~” Charmy closes his eyes as Miles begins drying his hair with the towel, gently rubbing and scrunching the curls with the damp cloth. The bee sighs, his shoulders dropping as Miles cares for him. Miles watches him for a moment, his hands growing still. With his features relaxed, he looks so… Handsome. Wait, what? No he doesn’t. He’s Charmy. He’s annoying and irritating and stupid. That’s it. Miles scoffs at his own thought and drops the towel on Charmy’s head to hide his face.
“I’m done. Finish this yourself.” His ear flicks as Charmy laughs under the towel. Is Miles having some kind of crisis? Surely he must be. The bee lifts the front end of the towel to look up at Miles. His cheeks are rosy, either still from the steam of his recent shower, or from whatever kind of energy is happening between them. It isn’t the same as their usual banter. Is this… Romantic? Ugh. No way. Either way, the flush looks somewhat, sort of nice on him. Something is very wrong with Miles.
“Hey! Rude. You aren’t even gonna kiss me under the towel, baby~?” Miles gives him a side-eyed grimace, crossing his arms to further distance himself and keep himself from doing just that. They have no reason to kiss right now. There's no stress to relieve.
“Yes, because kissing you while surrounded by the smell of cheap detergent and mildew is so romantic.” As soon as the last word is out of Miles’ mouth, he clamps his muzzle shut. He hadn’t meant to say that. This isn’t supposed to be a romantic thing. That’s the agreement. Just kissing. For stress. And the occasional… More. And… He’s currently at Charmy’s hotel room for no reason other than wanting to be. Oh no. He turns back to Charmy to correct himself, raising his hands defensively. He feels his face and ears burning as he stammers. “I— That isn't— Don’t misunderstand me, I was just trying to be sarcastic. Also don’t call me baby.”
Charmy is just admiring him, the words seeming to fly right over his head. He shakes his head and leans up to kiss the corner of his mouth. Miles has to force himself not to turn and kiss him. Now is not the time. Fortunately… or unfortunately… Charmy doesn't give a shit about that and scoots over to kiss him properly, mumbling softly against his lips. “You’re stupid~” He kisses him a couple more times. Despite himself, Miles finds himself leaning into it. No matter how much Charmy irritates him, Miles can’t deny that he’s a good kisser. He tastes like toothpaste. He's being gentler than usual, too. Miles sighs, closing his eyes. He feels almost disappointed when Charmy pulls back, standing up. “I’m gonna order takeout. What do you want?”
“Uh… Rice.” Miles is still processing the kiss, blinking rapidly. He licks his lips absent-mindedly and opens his laptop again, vaguely going over his file now that Charmy can’t see his screen. The bee shakes out his towel-dry hair. Miles doesn’t look. He doesn't trust himself not to stare.
“The kind with the corn and shit?” He means fried rice.
“Yes.” Miles keeps his gaze locked on his screen.
“You want the rangoons too?” Miles now looks back up at Charmy, watching him walk backward across the room. They’d had Chinese food only once before. Miles hadn’t expected Charmy to remember what he likes. For some reason, it makes him feel worse.
“... Mhm.”
“Gotcha~ Brb, my phone’s still in the bathroom.” The bee turns and heads into the bathroom, leaving Miles alone again. He goes into his file and deletes the “mostly” from Charmy’s notes.
Miles stares at his file for a long moment. For some reason, it doesn’t feel fair to compare Charmy to people like Skylar and Rory. Miles barely knows them, yet they were willing to kiss him just for the hell of it. But with Charmy… He’s known Miles since they were little kids. Sure, they weren’t close until they got older, but that must count for something, right? It must have some importance in why Miles prefers him to others. Until recently, Miles had assumed he was straight, but so far his research isn’t disproving that. It’s only making it more obvious that Charmy is the exception to that rule. That is, unless he’s the exception in general. It isn’t like Miles has had much experience with women, either. Familiarity must be the deciding factor. It's the only other thing he can think of that would set Charmy aside from other people. Miles sighs, closing his laptop and running a hand through his bangs. Is this wrong? It sure doesn’t feel right to test it like this, but… This is for the best. It won’t be worth it if they lose their jobs. They’d lose their lifetime careers and probably each other, too, if their company found them out. The best thing Miles can do now is find a way out before things get even more attached, right? He never thought he’d find himself wishing to find out he’s gay, but here he is wishing. That would make all of this so much simpler. … Would Charmy be upset with him if he knew…?
Before Miles can ruminate on that thought any longer, Charmy comes back into the main room actually wearing a shirt. He climbs onto the bed and situates himself among the pillows, taking out his phone to aimlessly scroll through social media. Miles allows himself to relax a tiny bit as he enjoys the silence. It’s a nice change from Charmy’s usual constant chatter. As the minutes pass, the peace slowly returns to a feeling of unease in Miles’ mind. Has he ever heard Charmy be this quiet for this long before? He’s even obnoxious in his sleep with his snoring. Miles looks up to study him from where he’s sitting on the couch.
Charmy’s eyes aren’t even focused on his phone. His thumb is moving on the screen, but he isn’t paying attention to it. He seems lost in thought, his gaze glassy as it watches something Miles can’t see. Miles’ brow furrows. What’s wrong with him? He feels something inside him tug toward Charmy. He wants to go get his attention, to comfort him, to do anything to make him stop looking like that, but… That’s what a boyfriend would do. Miles isn’t his boyfriend. Is that the problem, though? What if Charmy is upset? What if he’s losing interest? Not that Miles cares or wants anything different than that, of course. But his experiment is incomplete. He needs more data, and that means keeping Charmy close. Besides, Charmy is his friend, kind of. He shouldn’t be making that face if he doesn’t want Miles to worry. Miles clears his throat, folding his hands in his lap on top of his computer.
“Charmy. You have something on your mind.”
“Huh?” Charmy looks up, his eyes finally focusing on Miles. It’s ridiculous that that’s enough to make Miles feel a little burst of triumph in his chest. He doesn’t deserve to feel that way. He hasn’t fixed anything. Charmy shakes his head, waving his phone around as if it’ll save him from any kind of confrontation. “Ohhhhh no, I was just reading something. I’m good.”
Miles stares at him, his expression unwavering as he processes Charmy’s lie. Interesting. He must be doubting the nature of their relationship. That’s the only thing going on for him outside of the race, right? Charmy is such a chatterbox, Miles would know about anything else by now. But if he’s willing to lie to Miles’ face in order to keep thinking like that, who is Miles to stop him? It isn’t like he doesn’t have his own turmoil over it all. But then again… He doesn’t want to lose him. Not yet. Not before he’s figured everything out.
“Sure. Reading.”
Charmy nods, looking away again. “Yup. Reading.”
“... What are you reading?”
“Uhh—” Charmy scrambles for a good answer just as there’s a knock on the door. He jumps up, his wings buzzing as he flies across the room to answer it. “Hold that thought babe!”
Hold that thought indeed. As Charmy returns to him with takeout, the topic has conveniently vanished to be replaced by food-related small talk. Charmy plops down on the couch and preps Miles’ chopsticks for him, then kisses them before giving them to Miles. The fox glares at him, but uses them anyway. At this point, that kind of unsanitary behavior doesn’t matter. They share spit regularly anyway. Both of them stay silent as they eat. Charmy pulls up some boring unboxing video on his phone and Miles pretends to watch it while Charmy snuggles against him. It’s only when they're finishing the last of their food that Miles decides to say something. His voice comes out quiet but firm as he tries to pick up the remaining bits of rice and vegetables in his takeout box with his chopsticks.
“So. You were trying to think of a lie so I wouldn’t know you’re stressed about something?” Charmy coughs, choking on his noodles. Sure, it’s assumptious, but Miles doesn’t have the bandwidth to dance around things anymore today. Charmy flies to the kitchenette to get himself a glass of water, taking his time to drink the whole thing before he turns back to Miles, his brow furrowed in distress. His voice cracks as he speaks.
“Why the hell are you saying I’m lying? What’d I do?” Really? Miles rolls his eyes, calmly collecting their empty food boxes to throw away.
“You said you were reading something. I know for a fact you were not. That is a lie.” He isn’t looking at Charmy anymore, but the hesitation before the driver’s reply is telling.
“So what? That kind of lie doesn’t mean anything.” Charmy is done with his water, but he doesn’t leave the kitchenette. He leans against the counter, his fingers picking at the texture of the glass.
“It means you’re not being honest with me about what you’re really thinking ab—” Charmy interrupts him, his voice breaking as he raises it.
“Have you considered maybe I just don’t wanna talk about it??” Charmy loudly puts his glass in the sink, his face turned away from Miles now as he braces himself against the counter. The fox stares at him. This is the first time he’s snapped at him since they began seeing each other. He isn’t used to Charmy yelling at him. He doesn’t like it. Miles opens his mouth to say something else, but Charmy interrupts him again. “Sorry, I just… I think I’m tired. Do you need help getting to bed?”
“... No. I’ll manage.”
“‘Kay.” Charmy walks over and briefly kisses Miles goodnight, then turns off the light and flops on the bed, hugging a pillow and turning away from Miles’ direction. Miles watches him in the dim blue moonlight coming through the curtains. Something is very wrong. Obviously wrong. But Miles can’t ask about it. He’ll have to wait for Charmy to come to him with it. Miles waits a few seconds, then pushes himself to his feet, bracing his arms against the arm of the couch. He grunts as his back complains at the movement. It doesn’t hurt like it did earlier, but it’s still tender. Unfortunately, he left his cane leaning against the little table in the kitchenette. Of course.
Miles slowly stands up, carefully moving over to the bed. It’s one of those fancy, expensive hotel beds that's too tall for him to easily get into, but it’s also the most comfortable place for him to sleep. He takes a deep breath and starts climbing in, mentally preparing for his back to go out again. He’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder in the darkness. Charmy.
“Hey. Just… Let me.” Miles says nothing as Charmy helps him get into the bed without twisting his back, being careful with every little movement. He helps him lay back against the pillows, then snuggles close to him, laying his cheek on Miles’ chest. “... I’m not mad, I just… I’ve got stuff goin’ on that’s not awesome, y’know?”
“Yes. I know.” Miles rests his hand on Charmy’s shoulder, gently rubbing his thumb in circles against his sleeve. He can feel Charmy smile against his chest.
“I think you'd be mad if you really knew, Poindexter.” Ha. Whatever it is is certainly not the same as the things on Miles’ mind. Miles shakes his head, staring up at the ceiling as he considers how much to share. Ideally nothing, but… This is a vulnerable moment. He keeps his voice quiet as they talk.
“... You’d be mad if you knew about the things I worry about.” Thankfully, this only gets a light chuckle from Charmy. Miles lets himself smile a little at the sound. Charmy can’t see him well enough to notice.
“Oh yeah? Show me your issues if I show you mine~?” Oh dear god. Miles’ thumb goes still against Charmy’s shoulder, his smile disappearing.
“No. … I’ll tell you when I’m ready. As will you.” Miles listens for a response, but his ears are met with silence. He almost asks Charmy if he fell asleep within the second it took him to speak, but the bee’s voice comes quietly from the blue darkness. He shifts closer to Miles, his hand pressing affectionately against his chest.
“... You’re the best…” Oh. Miles takes another deep breath to keep himself from panicking. Is this bad? Is he messing everything up? Shouldn’t he be keeping Charmy at an emotional distance? But it feels so right to talk to him and hold him like this. Miles grits his teeth in frustration as he feels his eyes water. No. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t. The crying or the man next to him. He takes a breath and it comes out a bit too ragged. He feels Charmy look up at him. “Shit, are you crying?”
“N-No. I’m fine, I just…” Don’t say it. “I don't deserve this.” No! Miles scolds himself internally, but it’s too late. Charmy reaches up to touch his cheek.
“Deserve what..?”
“You.” Fuck. His mouth is betraying his logic. Miles clamps his mouth shut to stop himself from saying anything even more damning. He squeezes his eyes shut as Charmy goes silent. He’s never been more grateful for darkness. Charmy doesn't say anything at first. He just leans up and rests his nose against Miles’ cheek. He lets the moment pass by slowly before he whispers against Miles’ fur.
“I think you deserve the world, butt-copter… Me included. 'Kay?” Miles scoffs weakly at the nickname. It’s been a long time since he called him that. Miles nods, swallowing the lump of emotion and regret in his throat.
“Okay.” He doesn’t believe him. Especially now. But… It’s nice to hear. Miles kisses Charmy’s hair and closes his eyes, hoping the conversation is over. If he can get through all of this without crying over Charmy, that will be ideal. Especially in front of him. God. How humiliating. He feels his muscles relax as Charmy’s weight grows a bit heavier on his shoulder as he dozes. Even if this is temporary and confusing and generally a bad idea… At least it’s comfortable.
Notes:
Here we go y'all... It's starting...
Go check out the official JBOS Tumblr @justblowingoffsteam ! There, you can find doodles, character development, spoilers, and the JBOS Spotify playlist!
Elhechizero2023 on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Jun 2025 05:48AM UTC
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GothamCityDog on Chapter 4 Tue 09 Sep 2025 03:44PM UTC
Last Edited Tue 09 Sep 2025 03:45PM UTC
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Tailexgle on Chapter 5 Mon 06 Oct 2025 12:33AM UTC
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GothamCityDog on Chapter 5 Mon 06 Oct 2025 12:38AM UTC
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Scarlettclownnose on Chapter 5 Tue 07 Oct 2025 08:15PM UTC
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yorel on Chapter 5 Sun 12 Oct 2025 03:33PM UTC
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CatCaged on Chapter 5 Mon 13 Oct 2025 09:31AM UTC
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