Leo Writes - Blog Posts

“and to all who guided me, thank you”

It wasn’t easy for Hanamichi to accept he was in rehab, after all he was the loose bolt of Shoukoku. He was the fiery red hair who caused trouble on first day; now he was stuck with a spinal injury and hopeless dreams of ever being more successful than ever.

but as Hanamichi played with his bland hospital food, he couldn’t resist but to think how far he has gotten. Hell, he didn’t even know shit about basketball in the first place until he met Haruko. Now he stands here, but did he do it all because of her?

No, he did it because he’s a basketball player.

He did it because there’s no other sport that will ever replace the adrenaline he feels when the crowd roars over because of a point. The sweat-drenched uniforms at the end of games and practices. And all of those tedious basics that he did before he could even attend a game. Would he do it again? Yes.

Hanamichi suddenly felt unhungry and bothered with his thoughts. He decided to go out and see the coast from his rehabilitation home.

The sea’s salinity reached his nose, and the slight sprinkles in the air slightly pecked his face. He still fell horrible, but remembered his train of thoughts. He did well, and he would come back on the court again. He would prove to all that even when he fell low, he is going to stand up again to prove them all.

Hanamichi didn’t even notice how long he’s been outside until a staff member came out to tell him it’s time. With a smirk to his face, he knew he’s going to prove them all wrong.

And to all of them who guided him, he will say thank you.

"Are you sure there is no one to contact? Your team?" "You want to get rid of me?" Charles teases. He paints crimson, Max stammers, "No- just, you are a premier league player so-" "You are a football fan, Max," Charles wiggles his eyebrows "and I am coming home with you." The crimson deepens, Max huffs, his face pouty, he looks like an adorable kitten, "I am a Richmond fan." Charles laughs at that, Richmond? No one is a Richmond fan. "Fuck you. Richmond is good." Max's face is tight now, the red bordering on angry. Angry kitten. He purses his lips, suppressing the laughter, "Right." "We'll win this season." Max insists, "We have Sainz too now, so we will." "What?"  Max stares at him, realisation dawning his face, "You don't know." Charles grunts, annoyed, "No. What?" Max turns his phone on, a video of Pep playing on the screen, "We are loaning Carlos Sainz Jr. to AFC Richmond for the new season." Charles feels his heart beat in his ears. Two aces, Charles. The room erupts in noises. "No further questions."

Read Here.

Truth is, I am a righteous man, and I believe in her.

Truth is, all my love is borrowed.

Truth is, the hope in my heart blooms from her.

Truth is, when she calls, I go.

Truth is, I could not care less.

There's a space carved in my heart, it holds her, holds her close.

If I cannot be devoured, I'll devour her.

She'll be a picture in my wallet, she'll be a frame on my desk, she'll forever point to the sun, to the north star, she'll be my broken compass.

Truth is, I did not have a heart.

She made herself home.

And then she left.

Left a heart with a cave of her name.

I live on borrowed love.

I steal her hope.

She lost her way home.

Truth is, if I loved her more.

She would have come home.

In another life, I get lost with her.

In another life, I love what I have.

In another life, I have a heart, I have love and hope and kindness and I don't steal hers.

In another life, she comes home.

In another life, I love her more.

I have a heart, she stays in it, I stay with her.

The truth is,

In every life

Every time,

I am a righteous man.

I kill my best friend.

-

Hollow break in my chest

It floats disconnected

The ribs, the cage for my heart

They have been failures

I had a best friend

The only one

The blood rushed through my heart

Cracked my ribs open

The floating cage

An open heart

The sun shined on us

I smile when you laugh

I laugh when you dance

It's like this

My heart floats in the blood you soaked

Your blood flows through mine

It keeps me alive

I had a best friend

You made me smile

It's a husk,

Broken ribs

Dried red

You are the only one

I didn't see

You drowned in red

Broken ribs

Floating lungs

You drowned in red

A hollow hole

I keep it for you

Trade a heart for the cold

Come back home.

Not a lot of people know this. They possibly cannot. Max hasn't slept with a lot of people, he doesn't like one night stands.

Charles gets to keep this information tucked close in his heart.

Max is the fiercest person he knows, the loveliest guy to ever exist. His eyes are blue and sparkle when he smiles and Charles could stare all day.

Everyone can. Charles is not naive, he has seen people eat Max alive with their eyes, he see people lust after his waist. He is not naive. He is a very lucky man.

The rookies follow him around like ducklings and the social media admins joke that they are his pups but Charles knows what the kids want. Ollie asked him for advice on asking someone out right after the shoot. Isack blushing when Max ruffled his hair. Kimi attached to his hip on the bus. Gabriel staying up late to sim race with his husband.

So yes. He prides himself on being the only one who gets to see this. Max, open, free and uncaring of the rest of the wild. Free to demand what he wants, beg for it and not feel ashamed of it. He loves the Max who rides him till black dots dance in his eyes, he loves the Max who shouts his name till the who world hears whom he belongs to.

But the part he loves the most is after. When he is tired and sore and pliant and can't move and he'd throw his arms around Charles till they are close enough for Max to bury himself against Charles' chest.

The part where he gets up late and burns waffles, the part that kisses his maman's cheek and ruffles Arthur's hairs, the part that gangs up with Lo to bully him. He loves the boy that sneaks into his motorhome after a bad race, the boy who wears Charles' Ferrari hoodie in private, the boy who snuggles with his fur babies, they boy who insisted Leo is not his but loves him enough to get him a friend, the boy who kisses him hello, goodbye, good morning and good night and Charles wants it forever.

He will keep it forever.

Max pulls his shirt off, eyes trained on Charles. He does not want to miss the moment Charles spots it. The shirt is stuck in front of his eyes for a second before it's gone.

Charles' jaw is on the floor, his eyes fixed at skin below his left pec. CL16 embellished in black.

"Max, what is this?" Steve is frowning at him, the camera now trained to the ground.

Max feels a bit ashamed now, he thought it'd be funny, he forgot people other than Charles will see it. Or that it'd be an problem while shooting. Oops.

"We need you to visit makeup again, Max. You canno-"

"I lost a challenge." His eyes snap to Charles, he seems to have regained some semblance of coherence, "And we have to allow him to shoot like this."

"Charles, with all due respect, I am not sure that'd be good for the brand."

Charles' hand pats Steve's shoulder, eyes not leaving Max, "You know how it is Steve, a challenge with the boys, we have to be honourable."

Max suppresses a giggle at that. Challenge with the boys.

"In fact!" Charles' eyes finally meet his, "I'll join Max. We can place me in front of his boo- tattoo and hide it." He snaps a smile at Steve.

Max can feel the colour drain from his face. He cannot survive Charles near him, cannot survive a shirtless Charles.

Steve purses his lips, fiddling with his camera as he ponders.

Say no, say no, say no.

"Fine. But no more surprises."

Charles tears his eyes from Max for a second and shoots an assuring smile before stripping off right there!

Max's eyes snap towards him and Charles grins predatory.

A hand comes up, resting under his ribs, a thumb caressing over the tattoo, shooting a shudder through him.

He suppresses a moan as Charles leans closer at Steve's instruction, his lips next to Max's ear.

"Two can play this game, Maxie."

You remember the Anom with the idea of girlmax with the boobs tattoo? Why we didn‘t talk about our max with the boob tattoo for Charles ?

Maybe they have a bet who will win this year championship as to : Charles openly only wear Red Bull merch and Max - well max maybe has to model for Charles new swimsuit line.

And maybe Max lost and now he has to do the most annoying thing ever modeln. So he came up with the idea to get a real tattoo of Charles number as a small joke ( it’s fake)

On the day the picture gets public Charles has a heart attack and all day hard on. Nothings looks better on Max as Charles number AND THEN ALSO UNDER HIS MAN BOOBS HELLLO?

You are right anon, it could 100% work with boy Max! ... plus I adore the idea of Max modelling for Charles' swimsuit line!! I've seen the pics of Max on the beach and he looks so good in swimwear!

Oh god, Max thinking it will be a hilarious joke to get the number 16 tattooed on him but then Charles almost dying as soon as he sees it and not being able to function properly. Plus it is drawing his attention to Max's boobs (as if his attention wasn't going to be drawn there anywhere) and he can not look away.

Bonus if Charles is also modelling the swimwear alongside Max so the fact he is hard is super difficult to hide!

"Your rut's in a month, right?"

Max opens his cupboard, pulling out three Red Bull shirts and dumping it in is bag, "Yeah, around three weeks, I think."

An arm snakes around his waist, Max rests his back against Charles' chest as the other kisses up his scent gland, "Baby, please carry something other than RB kit."

"Sure," He tugs at an Alpha Tauri, letting it slide off and into the bag.

There's a groan against his neck, Max laughs, Charles is so easy to rile up.

The hand tightens on his waist as Charles sighs, "I want to mate you so bad, Max, it'd be so easy to. I can do it now, you can bite me back."

His stomach swoops, it'd be so easy. He'd be Charles' just like that. Charles will be his.

"If it triggers either of our ruts, we'll miss your home race." He turns around, pulling Charles closer by his waist. His eyes are closed but his face is peaceful, Max cups his cheeks, "and you wanted to mate at home."

"Stupid me."

Max rolls his eyes, pulling the Monegasque's head down to rest on his shoulders, "Yeah, you are."

A smile presses against his shoulder, Max kisses his hairs.

_

The paddock noise feels like something pressing at a live wire exposed in his body.

Every smell carries a scent, every touch is scorching at his skin. They were warned it's sensitive after mating, your senses mingle into one- you feel for two people. Max doesn't even like feeling for himself.

"Maxy!"

His eyes dart towards the source, tension draining as Daniel makes his way to the space between wrapped tyres and the wall.

"Congratulations, fucker!" His body is covering Max's, hands messing the strands placed to perfection. Max feels like home.

"No one knows yet."

Daniel's grin widdens, his eyes zeroing in at the mark. Max feels the heat rising in his cheek. Charles broke skin there, it's red and purple with the blood pooling beneath the surface, he loves it.

He whistles at Max, hesitating a second before putting his arms across his shoulders.

"I can tell. You look like a spooked deer."

Max feels the crimson darken, he pushes the hand off him.

"I am fine, of course."

Daniel purses his lips, "Of course."

A beat.

"I have extra nose blockers?"

Max takes one of the ghastly looking blockers with Pierre's face on it (Secret Santa gift, he hopes.) and dares Daniel to speak anything of it. He is fine, of course.

Maybe with a food poisoning (They should have never cooked themselves) and a sore throat (That, he doesn't regret) and too much sweating (The June of Barcelona is hot.) and he can feel everything Charles does and all Charles feels in Ferrari is pain. It's okay, they told him it'd be like this.

Last match of the season. The game rarely ever comes down to this. Max knows Charles is going to be in his head, always is, before a match. They play West Ham today. Fate isn't entirely in their hands, if Man City wins against Liverpool, they will be second. If they tie or lose, they win. He knows Charles hates that. He knows in his heart, Charles will win. Richmond will win.

"Will you be there?"

Max blinks the sleep out of his eyes, Max is always there. He has loved this sport before Charles. He has loved Richmond longer.

"Of course."

Why are you asking? hangs in the air. Charles tip toes around it, refolding the same shirt thrice. Today, Max will be patient. He tries to be, always. Charles rarely ever leaves him wanting. He gives and he gives without asking. For him, Max will wait. Always.

"If we don't-" his mouth clicks shut, Max wants to pull Charles back into the bed.

"If we don't win, will you still kiss me?"

Max frowns at him, "I will, of course, always kiss you."

"No." He shakes his head,

Then again before sitting at the foot of the bed.

"In the audience, at the railings." He stops the abuse on the shirt in his hand, resting it on Max's duvet covered feet, "If I come to you, will you kiss me? Even if we don't win."