Chapter Text
The first time Max says it, Charles thinks it’s a one-time thing.
“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so well for me,” Max groans, his hands gripping tight on Charles’ waist.
Charles is not sure what exactly he’s doing well. He’s on top of Max, having dropped down his cock not five seconds ago, and is starting to consider moving, meaning he has most decidedly not done anything out of the ordinary when it comes to sex between two people who have not even become an official thing yet. He scrunches his nose in distaste, which Max doesn’t see because his eyes are closed, and rocks gently forward, the drag of Max’s cock in him making him moan.
“Feels so good, baby,” Max says, guiding him into a rhythm that slowly turns Charles’ legs into jelly.
Charles comes twenty minutes later, sweaty and breathless, and calls it a good night.
—:—
The second time it happens, Charles is on his knees in front of his own couch, Max’s dick halfway down his throat and the heel of his hand pressed to his own crotch because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to suck at Max with half the attention he currently does. Max’s fingers are threaded through Charles’ hair and the threat of him gripping tighter and fucking into him is really doing it for Charles.
It’s not new information to him, this particular feeling. It’s just that he’s never felt like he actually wanted his partner to go through with the threat before.
Pulling off, Charles manages a croaky “Try and fuck my mouth, would you” before he dips back down. Max’s fingers flex in his hair, hips jumping forward. Charles gags, moans as heat shoots through him and thinks this is an interesting development as he keeps going.
“Fuck, baby, you okay?” Max asks, a little note of worry in his voice. Charles looks up at him with what he hopes is enough aroused heat to start a forest fire.
“Yeah, okay. Do you want me to do it again?”
Charles pats Max’s calf, leans forward and rests his elbows beside Max’s thighs on the couch, giving himself enough support to stay in place and Max a green light to begin.
Max thrusts up, in, gently at first, then harder, his moans covering up the wet sounds Charles’ throat makes as it opens up around him. Heat is pooling in Charles’ stomach, making his hips jump forward to try and rub against the couch, which it turns out he can do, and the contact makes him whine and then-
“You’re so good for me, baby, look at you, so gorgeous, perfect.”
Something unpleasant curls in Charles’ chest, but he tries to let it go. He feels good, being on his knees, lips starting to go numb and throat already achy enough that he’s sure he’ll need copious amounts of honeyed tea afterwards. He doesn’t want to stop but-
“You look incredible, the sounds you make, god, baby, you really like that, don’t you? Taking it so well, doing so well for me.”
The unpleasant feeling pushes against the back of Charles’ throat in a way that has nothing to do with Max’s cock, and Charles pulls off, keeping his face angled downwards even as he says, “Shut up,” and then leans back in. He was having a good time and fuck it if he’ll not continue having it.
Max takes his words at face value and nothing except groans and gasps falls from his mouth until he shoots down Charles’ throat.
—:—
The third time is the time Charles realises this will be a problem for him. You know, the kind of problem that will probably require a conversation.
“God, Charles, you feel so good, doing so well taking me like that.”
It will definitely require a conversation.
Now, Charles is not one to stop sex lightly, especially when Max’s cock is dragging across all the right places inside him and the grip Max keeps on both his wrists makes him feel like he might just fly away on a goddamn unicorn, but if Max says “You’re good” one more time-
“So perfect, baby, you’re so good for-”
Same thing.
“Alright,” Charles says, struggling against Max’s hold, and Max lets go immediately, pulling away enough to look Charles in the face. His forehead is all scrunched up in concern and he stopped thrusting, which is honestly a pity but Charles will do what has to be done.
“Why do you keep saying I’m good?” he asks bluntly. Max visibly startles.
“I- um- I thought you’d like it?”
“Why?”
“You- well, you know,” Max stutters and blushes. Charles finds this kind of entertaining, given that in normal life, nothing ever makes confident, loud-mouthed Max Verstappen embarrassed.
“I do not.”
“Right.”
Max’s eyes are trailing over everything that isn’t Charles, and Charles sighs.
“Pull out.”
Max does.
Dragging a pillow into his own lap, Charles reaches out to throw another one to Max. He feels like the both of them could use something to hide behind right now and he can just wash the pillowcases later. He’ll have to do laundry anyway, seeing as his lubed-up ass is currently sat straight on the sheet in the spot his head usually rests.
Max looks as if he’d love to just sink through the floor right about now, so Charles takes the first line.
“During sex,” he says, and Max’s eyes snap to him. “You keep calling me good. Or say that I’m doing well.”
“Yes?” Max’s voice is so nervous that sympathy spikes through Charles. He smiles, reaching out to take a hold of Max’s hand.
“I just want to know why.”
“Because you are? And I thought-” Max’s throat bobs as he swallows. “I don’t know, you’re pretty, uh, submissive, I suppose, when we have sex? You let me hold you down, and- and fuck your mouth and pull at your hair, you ask me to fuck you harder than anyone else I’ve ever been with, which feels incredible, really, I love doing this with you, it’s just that according to some research I did-”
“Research?” Charles lifts an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.
“-yes, research, I didn’t know what you were all about and you never explain anything, you just ask for it.”
Charles grips his pillow a little tighter, a thread of guilt winding through him.
“So I googled it, and I got a whole lot of stuff about, like, manhandling, and pain kink,” Max continues, his cheeks going redder with every word he says. It’s a little endearing. ”And dom/sub stuff, so I read up on submissives and it just sort of looked like praise kink and, I dunno, verbal reassurance? Tends to be a part of it, so I- I tried to do that for you,” Max finishes with a stubborn set to his jaw.
Charles is definitely endeared.
Squeezing Max’s hand, Charles shuffles forward so that he can lay a hand on Max’s neck, thumb copying the edge of his jaw.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely. Max breathes out and relaxes, leaning into Charles’ touch.
“I’m sorry if I did it wrong,” Max mumbles. “I just didn’t want to hurt you or something. It’s intense with you, sometimes.”
“I understand, it’s okay.”
“But you don’t want me to do it?”
“I really don’t.”
Max is looking at him with something like anticipation and Charles responds to his previous guilt by trying to explain.
“I don’t know how it works for other people,” he starts carefully. “Everyone is different and I’m sure there’s lots of people out there who like hearing what you’ve been saying. But for me- sex is not about being good, for you or anyone else, it’s more about… discovering myself. Having a good time. I think I’m in it for selfish reasons. Not that I don’t want you to feel good, I do,” he adds hurriedly, squeezing Max’s hand again. “But when you tell me I’m good or that I’m doing well, it somehow feels like you’re judging what I’m doing and I don’t appreciate that. It takes away from the thrill of it.”
Max tilts his head and opens his mouth like he’s about to argue, but Charles has already started.
“It makes sense to me, anyway, there’s no real logic in it. The short of it is that when you say stuff like that, it makes me uncomfortable, and I don’t want you to say that to me.”
Max shuts his mouth.
“It doesn’t…” Charles starts cautiously. “Do you like it? Do you get off on saying these things to me?”
Max shakes his head.
“Not really. I don’t mind it, though, if my partner were into it. You’re not.”
“Correct.”
“So I won’t.”
“Thank you.”
It’s quiet for a few moments and Max looks as if he’s gathering his courage. Drawing little circles on the back of Max’s hand, Charles waits.
“What do I-” Max begins, chokes, and coughs to clear his throat. “What do I do, then?”
“When?”
“How do I know that I’m not, you know, hurting you?”
“I won’t let you.”
“Yes, but what if you get, I don’t know, hazy, or floaty, or whatever that word was-”
“If you mean subspace-”
“-yes-”
“-then you don’t need to worry. I never get that.”
Max raises an eyebrow. “Never?”
“No,” Charles says calmly. “I’ve been doing what we’re doing with others, but I’ve never gotten spacey, even when things felt more intense than with you. Honestly not sure if I can.”
“Would you like to?” Max asks curiously, head tilted to the side.
“Not really. I enjoy seeing you fuck me in crystal-clear detail.” Charles grins, and Max groans, punching his shoulder. “Seriously though. I know we haven’t been doing this-” he gestures between them and the six-week-long arrangement they have going- “for very long, but if you can trust me on this, I’d appreciate it. I’ll tell you if I want something and if I don’t. I expect you to do the same.”
Max nods his head, several times, like he’s gathering his thoughts.
“Is there something you want, then?” he asks finally. “Something that I can do for you?”
“What you’ve been doing is good,” Charles says, bringing Max’s hand to his wrist. Max wraps his fingers around it like it’s second nature and holds tight, thumb resting against Charles’ pulse. “Manhandling was a good word. I want to be where you want me to be. I love being on my knees in front of you and I love it when you hold me in place. I don’t think I have a fully fledged pain kink, but I do like when you hold onto my hair as you fuck me, god, it feels so-” Charles breaks off, squirming. He can feel sweat beading along his hairline and his cock starting to fill out again.
In front of him, Max is not doing much better.
“You’re gonna kill me,” Max croaks. Charles laughs and after a second, Max joins him.
“Come here,” Charles gestures, and they lie down chest to chest, Max throwing a blanket over them.
“I’m sorry if I got you worried,” Charles says, practically purring when Max runs his hand down his side. “I didn’t realise I should be explaining more instead of just throwing things at you.”
“I like it when you throw things at me,” Max admits. “I’ve never been with anyone so straightforward in what they want. It’s really hot, actually.”
“Is there something else? You know we can try something for your sake, right?”
“I know,” Max says, eyes shifting.
Charles knows that look. He used to be like that, too.
“What is it? No judgement here.”
“Do you think- plugs?”
Charles hums.
“I tried. Wasn’t for me, really.”
“I- I meant for me.”
Charles’ stomach clenches hard enough that he gasps.
“Fuck. Max.”
“What?” Max squeaks, blushing scarlet.
“That’s so fucking hot. For when?”
“I thought, I don’t know…”
“You do know.”
Max groans and buries his face in Charles’ neck.
Charles may yet want to keep this one.
“Maybe when I fuck you,” Max says, his lips brushing across Charles’ collarbone. “Or when you blow me, I like the idea of being full when it happens.”
“Do you want to bottom?”
“Some time, maybe. Not now.”
“You’ll tell me if that changes?”
“Sure.”
That evening, Charles blows Max while Max grips his hair so tightly it sends sparks down Charles’ spine, his hands trapped under Max’s heavy thighs, and not a word of praise falls out of Max’s mouth.
Charles is in heaven.