Unbroken Hopes|| Charles Leclerc X Max Verstappen(Lestappen)Wildest Dreams Book2 The unconventional rivalry

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the Monaco apartment Charles and Max shared. The last few months had been a whirlwind—a season filled with relentless racing, podium celebrations, and intense competition between the two of them. Now, with the championship nearing its close, the atmosphere was charged with tension.

Max had been out on his usual morning run, taking the winding paths along the cliffs that overlooked the Mediterranean Sea. It was his way of clearing his head, getting into the right mental space as the season approached its critical stages. Charles, on the other hand, had opted for some quiet time at home. He had told Max he was fine, but in truth, his mind had been spinning since he’d woken up.

The championship standings were closer than ever before. Charles was just a few points behind Max, but it was enough to feel like an insurmountable gap, especially with Max’s four titles already under his belt. Charles had fought hard all season, clawing back the points deficit race after race. But now, as the season entered its final stretch, the old familiar pressure was creeping in—one that had plagued him for years. He had always been the one chasing Max. First in karting, then in Formula 3, and now, in Formula 1. No matter how close he got, it always seemed like Max had one extra trick up his sleeve, something to push him just that little bit ahead.

Charles sat on the balcony, staring out at the sea, absentmindedly twisting his wedding band around his finger. The crisp autumn breeze carried the scent of saltwater, but even that couldn’t pull him out of his thoughts. He was lost, thinking about every race, every near-miss, every time he had been so close to beating Max but fell just short. The same questions kept circling in his head: *What if this isn’t my year? What if I never win?*

Max walked through the front door, breathing heavily from his run. He paused in the hallway for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow before heading toward the balcony. He could see Charles sitting there, his shoulders tense, his face lost in thought. Max had known Charles long enough to recognize when something was off. He’d seen this look before, the same one that haunted Charles after races that didn’t go his way. But this wasn’t just a bad race. This was something deeper.

“Hey,” Max called out softly as he stepped onto the balcony. Charles didn’t immediately respond, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. Max walked over, leaning against the railing beside him. “What’s going on?”

Charles blinked, finally looking over at Max. “Nothing,” he said, his voice a little too casual. “Just thinking.”

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”

Charles sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples. “I’m fine, Max. Really. Just… a lot on my mind.”

Max wasn’t one to be easily deterred. He knew Charles better than anyone, and he could sense when something was eating at him. “It’s the championship, isn’t it?”

Charles hesitated for a moment, then nodded, though he kept his eyes on the floor. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just… it’s a lot.”

Max sat down in the chair next to Charles, his hand resting gently on his knee. “Talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

At first, Charles didn’t say anything, trying to brush it off. He didn’t want to burden Max with his thoughts, especially not when they were both fighting for the same title. But Max wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily.

“Charles,” Max said firmly but gently, his blue eyes locking with Charles’s. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I know you. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

Charles exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… I don’t know, Max. I’ve been here before, right? So many times. I get so close, but I never seem to get there. It’s like… you’re always just one step ahead. And I’m not doubting myself, it’s not that. I know I can race. I know I’m good. But…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Max nodded, staying quiet, letting Charles gather his thoughts.

“I’ve been fighting you since we were kids,” Charles continued, his voice quieter now. “Karting, junior formulas, and now this. I’m always chasing you. And I don’t know… it’s starting to get in my head. What if I just… what if I can’t do it? What if I never win the championship?”

Max leaned back, letting Charles’s words hang in the air for a moment before he responded. “Charles, I get it. I really do. But you’re wrong about one thing.” He paused, waiting until Charles looked at him. “You’re not chasing me. We’re fighting together, side by side. This year, more than any other, you’ve pushed me harder than anyone else ever has. You’re right there with me.”

Charles gave a small, doubtful chuckle. “Yeah, but you’re still leading. You always are.”

Max shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. The championship isn’t just about who’s leading halfway through the season. It’s about who’s still standing at the end. And you? You’ve got what it takes. You’ve always had it.”

Charles stayed quiet, absorbing Max’s words but still looking unconvinced.

“You’ve beaten me before,” Max continued. “In karting, in races, you’ve done it. It’s not like I’m some unbeatable force. And trust me, if anyone can take me down in this championship, it’s you.”

Charles smiled a little at that, but his eyes still held doubt. “But… you’ve already won four titles. I’ve been second so many times. I don’t know if I can handle coming so close again and missing out.”

Max sighed, reaching out and resting his hand on Charles’s shoulder. “Listen, I know how much this means to you. And yeah, I’ve won a few titles. But championships aren’t just about being the fastest or the best all the time. Sometimes, it’s about luck, about being in the right place at the right time, about things falling into place. You’ve got the skill, Charles. You’ve proven that a hundred times over. You just need the right moment.”

Charles looked at him, his expression softening. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You’re my competition. I shouldn’t be sharing this with you.”

Max smirked. “Well, technically, I’m your husband. So I think I get a pass.”

Charles chuckled, finally breaking through the tension that had been weighing him down. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

Max leaned forward, his voice soft but full of confidence. “I’ve always believed in you, Charles. Ever since we were kids, I knew you’d make it to Formula 1, and I knew you’d be one of the best. This isn’t just some rivalry between us. You’re here because you deserve to be, and you’re going to win a title one day. Whether it’s this year or next… I have no doubt.”

Charles felt a weight lift off his shoulders as Max spoke. It wasn’t just the words, but the conviction behind them. Max, the man who had been his rival for years, now his husband, believed in him fully. There was no mind game here, no hidden agenda. Just love and support.

Charles exhaled, feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, Max. I needed to hear that.”

Max grinned, standing up and stretching. “Anytime. Now, let’s get out of here. I’m starving, and I’m thinking cheat meal time.”

Charles’s eyes widened, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Cheat meal? Isn’t your trainer going to kill you?”

Max laughed. “He doesn’t have to know. And besides, we deserve a break. Let’s go grab something delicious. No salads.”

Charles stood up, feeling the tension melt away. “Alright, I’m in. But if anyone asks, we’re sticking to the diet.”

“Deal,” Max agreed, grabbing his keys.

As they headed out the door, hand in hand, Charles felt a renewed sense of confidence. The championship battle was still far from over, but for now, he had everything he needed—his talent, his determination, and most importantly, his partner.

And as long as Max was by his side, the rest would take care of itself.