Chapter Text
It had been a full year since the “incident.” Charles had long returned to his normal self, his career back on track, his relationship with Max steady and surprisingly domestic.
And yet… nobody was ready to let him forget.
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It started during a rare drivers’ dinner in Monaco. A big round table at a seaside restaurant, filled with laughter, wine, and too many inside jokes.
Of course, someone brought it up.
“Remember when Charles ate biscuits but refused baby food?” Yuki grinned, nearly choking on his drink.
“Excuse me,” Charles cut in, pointing his fork like a weapon. “I was one year old. I had no concept of cuisine.”
“Still true today,” Carlos muttered. “He only eats pasta and Nutella.”
The table burst into laughter. Charles groaned, hiding his face in his hands. Max, beside him, just sipped his water calmly.
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Story One: Oscar’s Phone
“Best memory,” Oscar said, raising his hand like he was in class. “When Baby Charles stole my phone and crawled under the table with it. I thought he deleted all my contacts.”
Charles buried his face deeper. “Why would I even do that?!”
“You babbled into the microphone and sent Max a three-minute voice message of pure nonsense,” Oscar explained.
Lando snorted. “And Max listened to the whole thing like it was Shakespeare.”
Max shrugged, totally unbothered. “It was important to him.”
The table howled. Charles wanted to vanish.
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Story Two: Pee Disaster
“Non, non, non,” Pierre cut in. “The best was the pee incident.”
“Pierre!” Charles gasped, scandalized.
Pierre smirked. “We were in the lounge. Charles was sitting on George’s lap. Suddenly—”
“DON’T SAY IT!” Charles begged.
“—George looked like he’d been shot. Pee. Everywhere.”
The table roared. Even George, red-faced, tried to wave it off. “I didn’t want to say anything, but he smiled after. Like he knew.”
Charles covered his ears. “I hate you all!”
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Story Three: Drool Kisses
Lando leaned forward eagerly. “But my favorite was in Singapore. Baby Charles drooled all over Max’s face.”
Max blinked. “That’s not a funny story.”
“Yes, it is!” Lando laughed. “He climbed on your lap and just—smooch smooch smooch—with drool dripping down.”
Charles groaned, glaring at Max. “And you let me?!”
Max’s lips twitched into the faintest smile. “You were happy. That’s all that mattered.”
The table fell silent for half a beat before exploding again.
“Mon dieu,” Charles muttered into his hands, blushing so hard his ears burned.
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Story Four: Biscuit Drama
Yuki slammed the table, unable to contain himself. “No, the biscuits! Fred tried so hard with baby food. Charles screamed, cried, threw the spoon—then Max handed him a biscuit, and suddenly he was the happiest baby alive.”
“Selective taste,” George mused. “Classic Charles.”
Charles glared. “It was not classic Charles. I was one.”
“You’re still like that,” Carlos teased. “Throw a tantrum until Max gives you what you want.”
Charles froze, mortified. Max only smirked and said nothing, which somehow made it worse.
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Story Five: Nap Time Fail
Alex raised his glass. “I’ll never forget nap time. We all tried—rocking him, singing, even dimming the lights. Nothing worked. Then Max just picked him up, and bam—out cold in two minutes.”
Everyone nodded, laughing.
“It was impressive,” Ollie admitted. “Like a lion tamer.”
Charles groaned. “So you’re saying I was a wild animal.”
“Still are,” Pierre teased.
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Story Six: Jet Flight
Kimi, quiet until now, smirked. “Remember the private jet flight? He screamed every time Max left his sight. We couldn’t move.”
Gabriel chimed in, “I had to pee for three hours because Charles wouldn’t let Max get up.”
The whole table laughed again.
Charles muttered, “I feel bullied.”
“You feel loved,” Alex corrected with a grin.
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Story Seven: Babbling at Max
Isack leaned in. “Best one was after the Singapore race. He sat on Max’s lap, babbling nonstop. Like he was giving a press conference only Max could understand.”
Max actually chuckled at that one. “He was very… passionate.”
Charles groaned, covering his face. “You can’t even remember what I said!”
“Doesn’t matter,” Max said simply. “I understood.”
The table erupted with awws, much to Charles’ horror.
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Toast
As the laughter died down, George raised his glass. “In all seriousness, though… baby Charles brought us closer together. We actually worked as a team—Ferrari, Red Bull, Williams, McLaren, Mercedes, all of us—for the first time. It was chaos, but it was family chaos.”
Everyone murmured their agreement.
“True,” Carlos added with a smile. “And it showed us what matters. We tease because we love you, Charles.”
Charles blinked, cheeks hot, but this time he smiled. Soft, genuine.
“Merci,” he said quietly.
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The Final Punchline
Of course, Pierre couldn’t resist ruining the sentimental moment.
“So…” he smirked. “When’s the baby shower? You and Max planning a family already?”
The entire table dissolved into chaos again.
Charles groaned, hiding behind Max’s shoulder. “I regret everything.”
Max, as ever, stayed calm. He placed a hand on Charles’ back and said dryly, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle the diapers.”
The laughter grew so loud the restaurant staff had to ask them to keep it down.
And even though Charles wanted to melt into the floor… he couldn’t stop smiling.
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Later that night, walking back along the quiet streets of Monaco, Charles nudged Max with his shoulder. “You’re never going to let me forget, are you?”
Max smirked. “Never.”
Charles sighed, but his lips curled into a grin. “Fine. As long as you’re stuck with me, I can live with that.”
Max glanced at him, eyes warm, voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And just like that, Charles knew—even if the others never stopped telling “baby stories,” even if the teasing lasted forever—it didn’t matter.
Because he and Max had written their own ending.
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The End.