Chapter Text
Breathing in the smell of the sea, the Alpha casts his eyes over the horizon as he paces down the large deck, avoiding the crowd of people around him. In a couple of minutes, his mate will board the ship and if his hypothesis is correct, he’ll be left alone under the pretense of his safety and that is the best opportunity for Max to strike. It is honestly rather ironic how Ferrari’s protection plan only serves to push their dearly beloved predestined one into the arms of the enemy.
If it all goes well, he’ll have to send a fruit basket to Maranello to thank them for the idiotic move. Max smiles to himself, tapping his foot to curb his impatient heart. He has waited far too many years for the reunion and though things are far from perfect… at least… Charles will be within his sight and miles away from anyone he knows.
His beautiful precious Omega.
The thought of his face, his smile, his laugh, his dimples, his eyes— makes the Alpha’s mind dizzy. He has so much to say, so much to tell his mate but he can’t… because this Charles Leclerc is not his mate. He is merely a fabricated propaganda puppet built by one of the oldest gangs in the world. He is a pawn in a larger scheme, a fake Alpha, a lie, a scam and everything Max loathes to the core.
He read those reports down to the finest details. Max remembers every type of drug they used; from small doses in Charles’ food when he was younger, to stronger ones injected into him after lying that it was some health booster shots. Years. It took them years and they were successful; Charles has lost all of his Omega scent, his inner wolf must be laying dormant and asleep like it’s an endless dream.
It sickens the blonde to think of it; his blood boils at the imagination of losing his mate. An endless spiraling pit, he has to make a conscious effort to remind himself that all will be well in due time. That is the only thing keeping him afloat otherwise Ferrari would’ve already burned to his feet.
As if the world could sense his temper snapping away, they grant him the view of his beloved to appease him. Charles walks up the steps, ascends to the main deck with his brother following right behind him. The Dutchman takes a sharp inhale as his eyes cast from top to bottom; the world slows and there is no one else except the two of them. Part of Max wishes his omega would look at him, if he’s worthy of those emerald greens even for a mere second but it doesn’t happen, Charles is obviously occupied with something else.
It is for the better, the blonde turns away and finds a more secluded place to hang about. He jogs back all information in his hands; after all the planned ruckus he made in Monaco, Ferrari will think he’s targeting the Sun of Maranello, this will cause the eldest brother Lorenzo Leclerc to devise a simple but effective plan to keep Charles away. He will end up on the cruise, alone, confused, worried… and all Max has to do now… is meet the love of his life again.
-O-O-O-
The bump in was orchestrated and completed perfectly, Charles being distracted by his brother’s surprise plan made it much easier to follow him.
“I’m Franz, by the way… “
Max hides behind the lie but his smile is genuine, Charles returns it and the Alpha can feel his heart racing. Fortunately, it is quite easy to get his mate to follow him for a drink, all these years of being a highly reputable and dominant Alpha has made Charles careless in this sense. He can take care of himself, he can fight, he can kill, he’s so used to being the one scaring others that he forgot the dark holds many other monsters.
Sitting at the bar with his gin and tonic, Max starts catching up on all the years he missed; some stories he knew already because the Dutchman had someone dig up information about the Leclerc family and some he’s hearing for the first time;
“My brothers and I ran through the gardens with the maids chasing after us… my youngest brother, Arthur, tumbled down a hill, pushed me by accident and that’s how I ended up with this on my arm.” Charles shows the old scar on his hand, Max chuckles at the story of mischievous young boys though he has already known this story for a while now.
“You’re quite the handful.”
“As if you don’t have stories to tell… I’m sure you’re the same or maybe… even worse than me.”
His childhood joys are few and between simply because his father doesn’t tolerate his misbehaviours and usually deems ‘fun’ as distraction but Max isn’t going to say something that ruins the good mood.
“I got the firefighters to show up weekly because I kept starting backyard fires.”
Charles laughs loudly standing by the fact that whatever Max said is worse. The statement is only a partial lie; yes, he did start backyard fires a couple of times in his neighbour’s backyard cause once he saw them torturing their cat and Max got really angry. Where is the lie? The firefights only came twice, by the third similar incident they expected the same small flame but Max ignited something much larger and the entire place turned to ashes.
It was a good lesson to those fuckers, they thought their cat died in the fire… Max, obviously saved the animal before setting things ablaze so the cat was safe and sound.
“I’d like to think the wildest kids turn out good…” Charles smiles sweetly and Max wants to laugh at it because really, he’s still rotten to the core but it’s nice his mate has such sweet sentiments.
“I must’ve been a saint then.”
-O-O-O-
It felt so easy to talk to him, so much so that Max truly believes it even deeper that Charles Leclerc was made for him– his voice, the hand gestures, the comical expressions, his twinkle in his eyes… Max knows he shouldn’t stare but can God really blame him?
They bond over their love of fast cars, Charles amazed by Max’s knowledge, no one understands it like Max does.
“The details… you could’ve been an engineer.”
“I was never very good with studies.” Max chuckles, taking a sip of his drink.
“A driver then? Formula 1?” Charles’ eyes shine in a teasing manner, Max humbly shakes his head, slowly sets the glass down “In another life, maybe.”
They share their interests;
“I play the piano…”
“Oh?” This, Max doesn’t know.
“Self taught. I'm not very good at it but it relaxes me… I wrote a few songs too…”
“I would love to hear some day.” Max says earnestly, pride in his chest that his intelligent mate learned the musical instrument all by himself, he can picture long nimble fingers dancing across the keys and that is such a sight, he must see it someday.
Charles gives a polite smile, seemingly grateful to share things with a stranger, as if he’s only Charles Leclerc and not someone who’s part of a Mafia gang.
“I am also learning how to play the bagpipes–”
Max chuckles.
They pry on each other’s life;
“So, Franz, what do you do?”
“Business.”
“What kind?”
“...All kinds. Jewelry, real estate, commodities…A Family thing.”
“Is that what you want to do…?”
Max fakes a solemn sigh, troubled eyes looking far away; “My father… is not a very kind man. He’s a bad father and a terrible husband… I did what I had to. There was no other option than taking over the family business…”
Mostly truths. Jos Verstappen is a terrible father and husband but he never wanted Max to take over the gang, in fact, he wanted to rule until his dying days which he couldn’t… because his own son overthrew him but needless details, what Max needs is for Charles to trust him more and nothing draws walls down more than a sob story.
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Franz.” Charles immediately looks concerned and sympathetic, “It is not easy to grow up in a less than favorable household. I do not share the experience but I know it must’ve been hard.”
“Sometimes I wish I could choose… what I want to do, who I want to be…” The Alpha purposefully relates it to Charles’ own hardships about his status and family. Instantly, the Monegasque clicks to it “Yeah. I know what you mean. The burden is not at all what we ask for. I also wish I could be someone else…”
Max reaches out to pat Charles on the back, blue eyes gazing gently “Or maybe sometimes it is enough if one person in this world… knows the real you.”
Maybe it is the alcohol, maybe the lights or simply the trick in his eyes- either way, Charles’ cheeks go pink just a little, he shines with the brightest smile “Maybe it is fate… that both of us found each other on this cruise… we don’t have to be anyone but… passengers.”
“Yeah.” Max nods his head “It must’ve been fate.”
‘If only you knew, Charles.’
-O-O-O-
Max Verstappen didn’t plan his grand scheme to meet his mate without going through every finest detail. He’s not stupid, he knows no matter what he says, Charles will have some reserve because today is their first meeting. The Monegasque was raised to be a Mafia leader some day so of course, he’s wary of everyone. Whatever he does isn't going to warrant the fake Alpha’s trust just yet so how do you gain someone's trust? How do you make them think you’re worthy of it? That they can open up and it’ll be just fine?
Well, first… you show them that you’re harmless and that you trust them… make them think that they have the upperhand at all times… because why would anyone have to keep guard up against someone gentle and safe?
The blonde leans his head against his hand, faking a headache as he drunkenly slurs his words. He can drink much more than this but playing drunk is a very good card to show Charles that he’s careless and carefree.
“And I move out… because… I can’t… and then… and then what happened? My mother also…” Max suddenly laughs as if something is funny, tilting to the side so much that Charles’ hands immediately reach out to grab him “Franz! Franz! You’re drinking too much! No more!” the teasing tone isn’t lost on him.
“No… I’m not drunk… I can drink a lot more… I swear…..”
“You’re not pacing yourself— you’re drinking too fast.”
“Hey- In my defense… I haven’t….” Max fakes a choke, Charles puts his hand on his back to pat him, easing the words out “...haven’t drank in awhile… and now I’m here… on a ship… miles away from my work… so I think… I can… drink every night now!”
“No~” The Monegasque laughs at him, taking his glass away and setting it much further for Max to reach “No, you idiot…come on… I’ll help you back to your room.”
“I don’t want to.” The Alpha refuses to move and this has Charles moving even closer to grab Max’s arm over his shoulder. The Dutchman takes the opportunity to lean his head closer, getting a much needed whiff of his scent. Max wants to lick him. Eat him whole. But that would ruin his plan so he keeps himself chained in his thoughts, still maintaining his act.
“Come on… Franz… which way is your room? Which block… God- you’re kinda heavy, man.”
Purposefully, Max leans most of his weight on Charles, just to slow the other down and making it difficult so the Monegasque has to adjust his hold, touching him even more.
“Rude. You called me fat.” Max chimes like a child and Charles breaks out a hearty laugh “That is not what I said!! You’re silly—”
“You’re silly.” Max mocks in repetition.
“You’re stupid.”
“No- you are.”
What are they? 12?
“Room number, Franz.
Please
.”
“33…01….” Max gives in only because Charles said the magic word.
“Okay…. Let’s go… Come on, big guy.”
He hurls the heavier body with him like a sack of potatoes, Max being totally unhelpful, stalling Charles by not walking along, nuzzling his head in the crook of his neck just so he can smell his mate closer. All because he’s stupid drunk— just pretending to be stupid drunk and Charles wouldn’t blame his actions because of the alcohol.
They’re halfway through before Max pretends to gag.
“No-! Don’t!”
“The room is spinning…” Max says in a very dire quiet tone.
“Fuck… okay wait– my room is closer.”
Bingo.
The blonde hides his smirk as the Monegasque guides him to the lift instead, scanning his card and going up to the suite room instead. He pretends to be urgent simply because he needs to puke the contents in his stomach but really he just wants to go to Charles’ room.
And… just like that… he now knows Charles’ room number.
The door opens and Charles helps him in, kicking off his shoes and stumbling in.
“Franz… come on—!” He drags and pulls, they make it pass the entrance and to the large bedroom, the connecting bathroom at the far end. Max obviously doesn’t make it there, he flops his body like dead weight and Charles holding him falls along.
Both Alphas on the mattress, the Monegasque laughs, lightly hitting the other. “You are fat .”
Max hides his smile for a bit, turning his head to look at his mate, he still blinks slowly, perfecting the act of being drunk.
“Rude.”
Charles’ gaze is soft and he’s smiling wide, “...dumbest thing I’ve done in years…”
“Sounds like you don’t do the heavy lifting at home…”
“Usually, someone else does that.” Charles admits and Max knows the Sun of Maranello lives his life without needing to lift a finger. It is understandable, if Max has any say in it, Charles wouldn’t need to do anything and he’d get everything good.
There must be some lightness in his heart or maybe he’s just tired from the long day mentally and somehow he ends the night by dragging another Alpha into his room. It is ridiculous.
“I’ll puke on your bed.”
“Please don’t.”
Max closes his eyes, if he pretends to black out, Charles will let him stay the night.
“...Franz?”
“Mhm?” He grumbles a noise.
“You’re… quite pretty…?”
Max’s eyes darted open to find Charles staring right at him with those beautiful greens. ‘Pretty? Have you seen yourself? You look like you belong in the Louvre' The Alpha thinks.
“Pretty? Thank you.” Max closes his eyes again, pretending to be nonchalant about it.
“...You have a sharp nose… your lashes are really long… and… you…. There’s… a mole on your…….” Charles' voice goes incredibly soft “lip…….”
The Dutchman blinks his eyes open to see his mate staring yet again, cheeks pink; probably the alcohol getting to him too. Charles continues speaking “I… don’t think I’ve seen another Alpha so close… aside… from my brothers…”
Isolated from other Alphas? Of course. Ferrari couldn’t have their experiment have some hormone fault because he was around other secondary genders. Being educated and having habits like an Alpha is normal for Charles- so normal, that he doesn’t know how to compliment another Alpha.
“If it’s any consolation… You’re prettier. ” Max says without skipping a beat and Charles tries to hide it but that smile goes wider, his laugh a little higher pitched. It’s cute. Honestly, Max thinks Charles is handsome, charming, adorable, all the positive affirming words used for all secondary genders— it’s hard to sum up when his mate is absolutely perfect but if tonight the keyword is ‘pretty’ he will go with it.
“Can Alphas be pretty?” Charles suddenly asks, dumb question really, Max shrugs his shoulders “We can be anything we want to be, Charles. We’re on this… magical cruise… like you said… we’re just… two passengers on a boat.”
The Monegasque grins “Yeah.” He breathes in deeply, Max hopes the other smells his scent, he hopes he remembers it, misses it, aches for it– just like how the Alpha feels for him.
Slowly but surely, the Monegasque’s eyes drop to a close, shoulders lax and soon his breathing evens out to a snooze. Max stares for a long time, watching his mate closely, counting the seconds of his breathing, memorizing his features; every freckle, every single eyelash— The Alpha feels something inside him bubble, the urge to possess his mate, to kiss him, hold him, love him in every way possible.
His hands twitch impatiently, wanting so much to reach out but that would soil all his plans.
Max inches closer to Charles, he doesn’t think he’ll get any sleep tonight, he’ll just stare at Charles the entire night, he’ll appreciate every breath he takes because it smells like his mate.
Oh, his beloved Charles… must’ve been so tiring to follow Ferrari’s orders, to defy his own biology every day and he doesn’t even know it. Poor thing, His poor baby.
The Dutchman’s heart aches physically just thinking of it.
Soon.
Today went quite well, didn't it? The first meeting, a good conversation, already having body contact, meshing their scents together for familiarity. He’ll need to play it slowly for the next couple of days, it might even take weeks to ease Charles’ guard down… only after that, he’ll be able to start using light dosage of medication and drugs.
Ferrari took years, Max is trying to undo everything in 2 months. It’s an impossible mission and he knows it’ll be hard on Charles, but he has to do this… he has to go through with it.
Physically his body has to take the changes, mentally he has to accept it. Max has to work on both at the same time, meanwhile also juggling his secret identity to his mate— all while hoping his gang is obeying his specific orders to keep Ferrari and the two Leclerc brothers’ occupied.
Soon.
Max tells himself again, eyes never leaving Charles’ face.
Soon.