70. RESUMPTION

/Max/

“- Why the hell haven't you been in touch? - I ask annoyed, after we've managed to spend a moment alone in the elevator. We’ve cleverly managed to squeeze into one while the others were distracted, spouting nonsense. As soon as the doors opened, I grabbed Charles's elbow and pulled him in silently, pressing the button.
A few seconds after my question, Charles turns to me shocked to see if I'm serious. Since I am, he stops the elevator with the other button. The mirrored metal cabin stops and he, hands on his hips and an angry expression, stares at me ready to tear me to pieces.
Look how expressive he is with me!
I'm sure he's not that expressive with others. So I really am special to him!
- Really, Max? - he then asks with a war footing. I cross my arms over my chest and shrug, feigning total seriousness.
- Of course.
- You’re the one who disappeared! I asked you how you were, you answered in monosyllables and then you avoided me in Hungary. I realized you needed time, so I gave it to you, now you're asking me why I disappeared? Are you schizophrenic and I didn't know it? Is this extraordinary quality missing from your amazing profile?
I love how he lights up when I tease him, and I think I'm the only one who can transform him like this; he seems like a demon. But really, it's just a matter of bringing out his true side that he's hiding.
I'm a master at this.
I uncross my arms and put my hands in my pockets, leaning against one of the mirrored walls behind me, my gaze wandering over the surfaces as if it were a super interesting place, more interesting than him.
From these mirrors I glimpse the baleful wrath of his splendid eyes.
- I needed to isolate myself, but you let me. It seemed like you didn't give a shit about me anymore! If I hadn't approached you now, what would you have done?
I'm about to look at him, but Charles is faster: he grabs my shirt pressing himself against me, simultaneously pressing me against the wall. I spread my arms not touching him in any way; the excitement starts immediately and expands everywhere in an instant.
I'm hot despite the air conditioning and I feel fucking good again.
The victorious smile painted on my lips that Charles stares at, perhaps remembering when he intertwined them with mine in July. You want to do it again, huh? Don't tell me!
Well, why wouldn't you? Go ahead, kiss me and let's get this over with.
- Don’t talk bullshit! - he then hisses through clenched teeth, still looking at my mouth. Oh, how much you want it...
- I’m not talking bullshit, why did you give me all that space? It seemed like you didn't give a damn about me anymore! - I reply with my typical irritating arrogance, but my tone is now lower and more persuasive because I want to pull him even closer.
He holds me with his body, his pelvis against mine, but if he pressed himself more, I could better feel the part of him that interests me most.
I want to grab his ass and press it more against me, but I stay still.
- Max, of course I’m fucking care, but you disappeared. It was obvious you were angry with me and wanted to be alone.
- How much space would you have given me if it had been for you? - I ask, staring into his eyes which are still on my mouth; our faces are getting closer and closer, I can see the fight he's having.
- Everything you needed. I made a promise, Max. And I already half broke it in London, but I was out of my mind and...
My hands, however, seem to have life precisely because while he talks about promises and respect and anything else, I slide down his hips and then his ass, pulling him forcefully against me. Now it's better.
Charles holds his breath surprised by my gesture, but shortly after he relaxes against me and stops holding my shirt; he slides his hands over my chest and shoulders, encircling my neck and staying there. With his fingers through my hair, shivers join the heat in our groins, pressed together.
His beautiful ass feels so good in my hands!
His mouth curls into a mischievous smile, as do his green eyes, and I'm so damn happy. I knew it as soon as I saw him here; I knew it even before, because during these holidays, it was clear to me.
But now that I have him here in my arms, pressed against me, with his ass in my hands, I have absolutely no more doubts.
I can't give up on him and this feeling.
The excitement rises with the desire for more of this. But it will be even better when you make up your mind, because that's what I like: teasing you and making you chase me. This game between us is so beautiful.
Charles stares at me, waiting for me to decide to kiss him, convinced that this is the right time; but I don't want to erase this short distance between us, so both of us with a mischievous smile on our lips remain staring at each other closely, without doing more.
- I needed time to understand a couple of things, but as I thought about it, I got really annoyed seeing that you didn't give me any attention anymore. Keep all that respect to yourself and bully me as much as you want, because if you ever give me all that space again, I'll kill you.
I say it explicitly, more than that I could only say 'kiss me, asshole,' but our beautiful game would end, so I don't say it. But his eyes light up even more, his face softens into a serene expression and he nods. He's happy. He's clearly happy, there's no doubt about it. And I'm happy with him.
So I sigh and move closer, but when I realize I'm about to kiss him, I stop and start the elevator again.
Realizing I won't kiss him, Charles walks away with an amused smile. He's back!
- Max Verstappen, you’re a unique specimen.
With this splendid compliment and his delightful French "r," I turn toward the doors that open once we reach the floor.
- But you're still interested in me, right? - I ask as we leave, just to be sure. It's a rhetorical question, but I liked asking it.
Charles obviously leaves before me and as I ask him, he turns to stare at me like I'm an idiot.
- Do you have to ask?
- I want to hear it. - I repeat shrugging, hands in my pockets again.
Charles waits for me and once we're walking together toward our respective rooms, he replies: - Of course I'm interested in you, stupid.
- Good, because I'm interested in you too, and... - I stop in front of the door and open it, and just as I do, a flash crosses my mind.
Singapore. I who opened the door and moved aside to let him in.
If he'd come in that time and then not moved away when I tried to kiss him, what would our story, our life, be like now?
Charles grabs my shirt again; it looks like he's been thinking the same thing, I bet. He's about to push me in and joining me, but just then, with shivers to run down every inch of my skin, Pierre's surprised voice reaches us from the end of the corridor.
- Hey! - he says amazed.
Charles' eyes widen and he turns to look at his friend and ex-boyfriend who comes up from one of the elevators. He immediately releases me and I nod, then goes into my room alone and disappears inside.
What the hell did he see? Did he understand something? I know Charles hasn't told him yet, so I don't know what to imagine. He'll surely quickly come up with some excuse now, saying everything's fine.
From the outside I think it looked like an argument, like we were getting into a fight; he grabbed me roughly and looked annoyed.
I stand still in front of the closed door, my hand on the handle, my heart beating faster than I'd like.
And fear.
Creeping fear.
Charles and Pierre are out here. What the hell are they doing? What the hell are they saying? Do I lean in and try to hear? Do I look through the peephole or remain ignorant?
Well, I'm not the type to spy; I'd be pathetic.
So I walk away and sit on the bed, starting to push my feet into the floor; then I pick up my phone and text him.
'Then tell me what you say.'
It's a peremptory order; it's the first time I've acted like a jealous boyfriend. I don't think it's my style, but Charles and I are in such a delicate moment right now that it's hard to let my guard down.
Especially when his beloved Pierre is involved, for whom he made me suffer so much, and only because he didn't want to hurt him or lose him.
So no, fuck, I'm absolutely right to feel the nerve rising up my spine and then to the back of my neck. That nerve that if I had someone in front of me right now, I'd bite it.
Fuck, damn it. From riches to rags in an instant.
This isn't okay. This isn't okay at all.
Damn, I'm still so insecure. A fucking insecure person who masks this fucking weakness with boastful behavior to appear strong, but I'm not and maybe no one will ever understand, not even this idiot out there, since he thinks I want to control our relationship and decide when and how we get together.
You idiot who doesn't understand a shit. That's what you are.
God, I feel so fucking sick right now.”

/Charles/

“I wasn't prepared for anything, even though I'd played out a thousand scenarios as usual, and I'd seen a thousand conversations and situations where Max and I would meet. Obviously, none of them ever came close to reality.
Max approaching me as if nothing had happened, as if this month hadn't happened; I certainly couldn't have foreseen that.
Just like that fucking question. How dare he ask me why I left him space? He's the one who disappeared, you idiot!
I may not be easy, but damn it, it’s not that he is!
I'd imagined a clarification, but they were always negative clarifications, where he told me he didn't want anything from me and that he'd changed his mind, even though I could never figure out the reasons.
But the psychopath is fine with continuing like this without explaining his pindaric twists to me. What the fuck is wrong with him? And he thinks I'm okay with that? That I can just carry on and pick up where we left as if this month of separation never happened?
He told me to bully him whenever I wanted, but that doesn't mean anything. Bully him how much? I said I'd wait he'd decide when and how, since I've been making him suffer for my own convenience all this time. What the hell does he mean by bully him? To what extent? And then he comes and tells me he's interested in me with such ease, thinking that's enough!
I was about to force him to talk, even if it means biting him, but then my plans change again, and I have to improvise and adapt to events.
Once again I find myself faced with a situation I hadn't even imagined.
And now what the hell do I do with Pierre?
He rushes over thinking he's interrupted a fight that was about to end in punches. Besides, he saw me roughly grabbing him by the collar, so his reaction and reasoning are plausible.
Max enters and closes the door, thus confirming that it looked like an argument. I could let him believe it; it would be perfect. 
But Pierre stops in front of me worried, and his blue eyes are always too candid and sincere, so much so that when he asks me what the hell I was about to do, I realize I can't lie to him.
So if I had to put an end to my previous relationship and start a new one, I think this is the right time.
Here and now.
Well, not here in front of Max's door; that would be rude and it's okay that I'm insensitive, apparently, but I know how to control myself.
I shake my head and then nod for him to come over; I take him by the arm and lead to my room a few doors down.
- Were you arguing? - Pierre asks, Max's text message making me smile and relax.
He's jealous. I'm pleased even though I don't want to make him feel bad or play games like this. Our chasing and provoking each other is enough. I would never do this to him because it's precisely what hurt him so much in the past years.
Actually, the guys and I went upstairs to change to go out to dinner, but it's not like I can change in front of Pierre now. I used to do that, I stripped completely without a problem, and that's how our mess started.
- Charles? - Pierre sits on my bed.
I have to tell him.
I'm not going to undress and go out with them.
I have to tell Pierre.
It's something that will come out sooner or later and he'll notice, because now we're not together and something will be noticeable; when we’ll be together, it'll be impossible to keep it hidden.
I take the clothes I brought in case of some casual night out and leave them open on the suitcase, but I don't put them on. Pierre looks at them distractedly, raises his eyebrows waiting for his answer and I sigh again in the drama and nod. Finally I mess up my hair a little bit hallucinated, before deciding to sit in bed too, but behind him, on the other side.
I remain with my back to him. I stare down, my hands twitching nervously. I know he's turning to look at me confused, but right now if I looked him in the eyes, I don't think I could.
How do you tell your best friend and ex-boyfriend that you like someone else and that he knows that person very well?
- I wasn't arguing with Max. - I say.
- Well, it looked like you were about to punch him! I've never seen you like that!
I tilt my head to the side.
- He made me mad, but I wasn't about to hit him. - even though sometimes I have the urge to do so, actually.
- So? - ​​he rightly wants to know now; he knows full well that my behavior wasn't normal. Of course it isn't. Of course he wants to know.
I sigh again, then, almost breaking my fingers as I hold them, I blurt out without the slightest sensitivity: - I like him. Actually. We like each other. In that sense.
Silence. Okay, there was no other way to say it. My heart is exploding in my throat and if I didn't clench my hands, I'd tremble like a leaf.
I close my eyes resigned to his explosion, but since it's not coming, I can't resist any longer and turn toward him like a spring.
As I expected he’s turned towards me, he looks at me, one hand resting on the bed and his face filled with shock and amazement. For a moment I think he might explode and make a scene, but then he lets out a shrill, - Huh? - which tells me he needs more information before he explodes.
Let's see if I can adjust my approach.
- It’s not one of those things you can predict. It was completely sudden, but slowly we started to like each other. But for now, that's all. Nothing special ever happened, but we both know it and we're just waiting for one of us to come forward. We... we haven't even kissed.
I'm actually manipulating the truth like I manipulate everything, obviously. It's not exactly like that, but it's not entirely wrong either.
If you only consider kissing with the tongue: no, we've never actually kissed.
- Since... - his voice is hoarse. I think I gave him a big blow. I think as long as we broke up, but we were more or less friends and I wasn't with anyone else, it was one thing. But now that I like someone else, Max on top of that, it's definitely different. I know, I know him.
He clears his voice.
- How long have you two liked each other?
Luckily, he doesn't ask me the details of how I can say we like each other.
Let's flirt, Pierre. Let's flirt. Don't torture yourself with that question, don't ask me that.
- Since this year, I'd say... last year I was struggling with getting back on my feet, you know...
Pierre nods. It’s right, actually. I've really devoted myself to Max since this year because I realized I was better and ready, but the truth is we've liked each other since 2019, since we collided on the track and realized we didn't actually hate each other. But it was such a slow process that I couldn't even say when or how exactly it started. I wouldn't be able to.
- So you woke up one day in January, saw a photo of Max and said you liked him?
Pierre is tense, his voice is shaking and his hands are surely shaking too, if they weren't gripping his thigh and the sheets.
He's so beautifully and clearly shocked that I'd like to learn from him to express emotions always, not just with Max or a few close friends.
But in the end everyone is different, right?
I go back to turning my back on him and staring straight ahead to avoid him.
- No, I suppose it started earlier, but this year I looked at Max with Kelly and felt damn jealous.
That's also true; that's how I realized I wanted to get back into his life and that my isolation was over.
I hear Pierre get up and knowing what he's doing, I close my eyes clenching my hands tighter; my elbows on my knees hunched forward, terrified of hurting him.
Pierre sits next to me and for a moment just looks at me, saying or doing nothing. Then he sighs and his hand slides comfortably over my back. Finally his voice rises softly.
- Hey, you don't have to be ashamed. I told you a while ago that I like Yuki and that I wanted to see how it went with him. You told me you were okay with it. We're both starting over.
I nod opening my eyes; turn to him tense with a mixture of hope and shame.
- How's it going with him? - I try to change the subject. He gives a brief, sweet smile.
- Good, but don't change the subject.
I sigh.
- I'm surprised it's Max. I thought it would be someone else, I don't know who. I knew it would happen sooner or later, and that's okay. I'm glad you feel ready, that you like someone else. But... Max? You hated him, right?
I shrug and shake my head, looking straight ahead, as his hand withdraws; he just sits there next to me watching me talk to him about it, insisting I tell him everything. Because he knows there's something to say.
- Yes, for most of my life... but I guess I didn't know him well, and then maybe... well, you change, right? You grow up? I don't know what to tell you. This year I realized I liked him, but I think maybe I liked him before, but I was too closed off in my... well, you know, kind of state...
And he knows, and that's precisely why he nods and says nothing.
- Maybe I'm a slow person. Even with us it happened after a long time and it was sudden. I think I'm retarded, but at a certain point I can't ignore things.
- Maybe that's exactly how it is.
Pierre laughs and immediately relaxes me. I think he understands, after all.
Just don't ask me for details, I don't want to hurt you. Please, don't ask me.
- So I interrupted you while you were about to do it? - he asks out of the blue. For a moment, I feel like I have a heart attack and I straighten up, staring at him. He stares back at me candidly, waiting for an honest answer that I feel like giving him. I think he's ready.
- Yes, I think so...
- So what are you waiting for? Go and finish the job! - his typical enthusiasm takes over. I just hope it's not a shield to hide his suffering. I don't want to make him feel bad.
- No, no, you actually saved me, I would have lost the bet!
- Is there a bet?
- Not really, but the game is who gives up first loses. Or something like that, anyway. I want him to make the decisive move, and I think he wants the same thing, although I'm not sure. Because Max is... special.
- Special is an understatement!
We end up laughing together, and it's like it used to be before everything got complicated between us, when we were happy together and we were like two brothers. It's exactly like that, and hearing him fills me with hope.
That in the end I managed to straighten out the mess I made and that I haven't really lost him.
I sincerely hope so.
As I sit here with him, I can't help but feel happy to have talked to him about it; I feel lighter and a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I could almost fly. Fly to Max and hug him more lightly.
Even though I know... there are other things to talk about with him. About his father, for example. And about what we want from each other. Even if it's early now.
Now all that matters is being able to steal a proper kiss from each other. What idiots we are.
- And Yuki, by the way?
As soon as I mention his name, Pierre jumps up looking at the time.
- Shit, Yuki! I was supposed to go out with him! I said I was going to change! Shit, I'm late!
Pierre starts running toward the door while I laugh.
- Good, so?
Before opening, he stops, turns, looks at me calmly, thinks thoughtfully, then his lips curling, nods surprised and sincere at the same time.
- Good, yes. You know... it's strange, with him I'm the one in control of the relationship, the stronger one, let's say. He's the small and tender one who lets himself be carried away, and he's so beautiful. And he's funny and sweet at the same time, and he's not afraid of what he feels.
I knew he'd get lost in words and details, because he likes them. I sit there looking at him with a goofy smile, genuinely happy for him. I hope what he says is true, but Pierre can't lie; I'd notice if he did.
- Are you happy? - I then ask simply. He nods, smiling sweetly.
- Yes, I am. 
- Good, then I am too. - I say returning the smile, which I hope is decent.
- And you? - I shrug a little perplexed and unsure.
- Yes. I think I am. I'll be able to tell you at the end of the year, I think.
Pierre laughs, imagining why I say that.
- Do you think your little kissing battle will go on for this long?
I nod, wide-eyed, shocked that he's questioning it.
- Of course! You know how stubborn we both are, right? Can you imagine me losing a battle?
Pierre laughs again throwing his head back, and with that lovely sound, he leaves the room saying: -No, I can't imagine that.
When I'm alone I stare at the door for a moment, at the empty, silent room. I sigh again. Yes, I feel lighter.
Good. That's what I needed.
Telling Pierre wasn’t something I'd contemplated, but maybe it was one of the things that was subconsciously holding me back, who knows. Telling him before doing anything with Max seems right now.
I then pick up the phone and hurry to answer; he must be in a terrible state.
‘Everything’s fine, I told him we like each other.’ 
And with that I tell him every detail without him even asking, knowing that this will help him calm down.”