Unbroken Hopes|| Charles Leclerc X Max Verstappen(Lestappen)Wildest Dreams Book2 A sea of orange! And red?

Race day at Zandvoort was always a spectacle, but this year felt even more electric. The stands were a solid wave of orange, with the occasional splash of red, as the Dutch Grand Prix prepared to unfold. Max knew the importance of this day; his home race was something he cherished, a place where the fans’ energy fueled him. But today was different—today, he shared the spotlight with Charles, his husband and closest competitor.

As the lights went out, Max got a perfect start, leading the field into Turn 1 with Charles close behind. The two were in a league of their own, dancing on the edge as they navigated the tight, twisting circuit. But it wasn’t going to be a straightforward race. The weather was unpredictable, just as it had been all weekend, with intermittent showers turning the track into a tricky challenge.

The first half of the race was a masterclass in precision driving. Max held the lead with Charles always within striking distance. Their battle was fierce but clean, each knowing the other’s strengths and weaknesses as only rivals who are also partners could. Meanwhile, further down the grid, chaos unfolded. A minor crash between two midfield drivers brought out the safety car, bunching up the pack and wiping out Max’s lead.

As the race restarted, Max and Charles were neck and neck, but now the strategy games began. Max’s team gambled on staying out longer, hoping the rain would hold off, while Charles’s team opted for an early pit stop, switching to intermediate tires just as the rain returned. It was a risky move, but it paid off as Charles emerged right on Max’s tail, the fresh tires giving him the edge.

With just a few laps to go, Charles saw his opportunity. He knew Max’s every move, every trick he might pull to defend his position. But Charles had something up his sleeve—a calculated overtake maneuver that he had been perfecting in his mind for weeks. As they approached the chicane, Charles made his move, diving down the inside with precision that left Max no room to counter.

The crowd gasped, the orange sea stunned into silence for a split second before roaring back to life, their passion undiminished. It was a masterstroke, the kind of overtake only Charles could pull off, and suddenly, he was leading the Dutch Grand Prix. The final laps were a blur of intensity, Max pressing hard, but Charles held firm. When they crossed the finish line, the gap between them was less than a hundred of a second—the closest finish the sport had seen in years.

Charles’s initial euphoria was palpable as he crossed the line, pumping his fist in the air. But as the adrenaline began to fade, a wave of uncertainty hit him. This was Max’s home race, his moment. Had he taken something precious from him? And what about the fans? The orange army had come to see their hero win, and Charles had snatched victory at the last second.

As he pulled into Parc Fermé, his heart raced with a mix of triumph and trepidation. He jumped out of the car, still in a daze, when suddenly Max was there, right in front of him, grinning from ear to ear.

“That was incredible!” Max exclaimed, his eyes shining with genuine excitement. Before Charles could say a word, Max pulled him into a tight embrace. “You were amazing out there. I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

Charles was taken aback by Max’s reaction. He had expected disappointment, maybe even frustration, but instead, Max was overflowing with pride—for him. “But… Max, this was your race. I didn’t mean to—”

Max cut him off with a shake of his head. “Charles, you deserved this. You fought for it, and you won fair and square. That’s what racing is all about.” His voice softened, and he added with a smirk, “Besides, it’s not like I’m done winning here.”

They shared a moment of laughter before Max turned to celebrate with his team. Charles stood there, still absorbing the warmth of Max’s words, when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. It was Sophie, Max’s mother, her face glowing with pride.

“You were spectacular, Charles,” she said, pulling him into a hug. Victoria, Max’s sister, was right behind her, nodding in agreement.

“We always knew you had it in you,” Victoria added with a grin. “Now you’re really part of the family.”

Charles couldn’t help but smile as Sophie and Victoria hugged him tightly, their affection genuine and heartwarming. He had been a part of this family for a long time, but today, it felt official in a way that went beyond any wedding ceremony.

As they moved on to the interviews, Charles was conscious of the fact that he had just won Max’s home race. He tried to downplay his victory, not wanting to upset the Dutch fans who had come to see their hero win. But Max and Lando were having none of it.

“Charles, stop being so modest,” Lando teased during his interview. “You were on fire today. Everyone could see that.”

Max nodded in agreement. “He deserved every bit of that win. It was a tough race, and he pulled off some incredible moves. I couldn’t be happier for him.”

To Charles’s surprise, the crowd, which had been so staunchly orange all weekend, began to cheer for him too. It was a wave of support that he hadn’t expected, and it touched him deeply.

After the interviews, they made their way to the cool-down room, where the atmosphere was light-hearted, the tension of the race having evaporated. They laughed and bantered about the key moments of the race, with Max playfully recounting how Charles had outfoxed him.

“Next time, I’ll be ready for that move,” Max said with a grin.

“Next time, I might have something else planned,” Charles retorted, his eyes twinkling.

Finally, it was time for the podium ceremony. As the announcer called out the names, Charles ran out last, the roar of the crowd washing over him. But something was different. As he stepped onto the podium, he was struck by the sight before him—red banners mixed with orange, filling the grandstands and spilling onto the track.

For a moment, Charles was confused. This was supposed to be Max’s moment, his sea of orange. But then it hit him. The orange army had welcomed him, too. The banners, now visible, bore messages like “This is your home race too” and “Welcome home, Charles.”

The Monegasque and Italian anthems played, and Charles stood there, emotions swirling as he looked out at the crowd. He turned to Max, who was smiling proudly at him, his gaze filled with nothing but love and pride.

“They’ve accepted you,” Max said softly, as if reading Charles’s thoughts. “We’ve come so far, haven’t we?”

Charles nodded, his throat tight with emotion. They had indeed come so far—from hiding their love from the world to facing the backlash after they came out, to now being proudly married and supported by not just their teams and families, but by fans all over the world.

As the champagne sprayed and the crowd cheered, Charles felt a deep sense of belonging. This was his home now, too, and the Dutch fans had made it clear that they welcomed him with open arms.

He looked over at Max, who was laughing and spraying champagne at him, and he couldn’t help but smile. They had won today, both of them—in more ways than one.