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hamlet and horatio (2.7k) - a 1601 fic by ineffabildaddy
Crowley and Aziraphale bump into each other after catching Hamlet at The Globe. They discuss the central friendship in the play, leaving truths about their own friendship unspoken.
written for @theineffablecon 6 zine!
thank you so much to @omens-for-ophelia for the cheer-read, and to @literarion for creating the podfic recorded during the con this weekend (which i'll go back and link here if/when it gets uploaded)<3
#1601
"Danny elfman is in my house.. please you have to believe me... he's in my fucking house he won't let me leave... I ask him why he throws a brick at me... so many bricks... 217.... all on the floor.... maybe if I ask again he'll let me leave....
218....... 218 bricks....... I'm dying...... goodbye"
I HAVE A CONFESSION
charles leclerc x max verstappen
2.2k words
summary: charles leclerc, born and raised in monaco, a mama's boy, raised to worship the man in the cross who saved us from all our sins. and then there's max verstappen, a man who believes nothing but himself and also a good friend of charles and his family. a man who also made charles crumble into pieces by a mere touch.
warnings: (a bit of) smut under the cut ! mentions of alcohol, religion and beliefs, charles is not a racer in this fic, mention of cigarettes.
note: heavily inspired by false god by taylor swift ! for the past few weeks i have been completely obsessed with it and lestappen are my victims with this brainrot of mine.
Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
It has only been 30 minutes since Charles sat down but it felt like years, it wasnât always like this. His mind is clouded and distracted. Distracted with the question of who he worships. Is it the man in the cross? Or is it the man who pinned him against the wall of his bedroom last night?
âCharles! Weâre over here!â Max screamed, hoping his voice could be heard against the wild crowd of Monacoâs finest club. It was obvious that the Monegasque did not hear his words, Charles was still wandering amongst the crowd, seeking for familiar faces. Max stood up from his seat, telling the rest of their friends heâll just get Charles from the crowd.
It was loud. All that can be heard is the upbeat sounds coming from the blasting speakers and chatters of random people kissing each otherâs faces. But Charles heard something more than the noise, he heard something calm. âThere you are, Charlie.â
He felt Maxâs hand wrapped around his arm with a smile in his mouth. He can smell the alcohol in his breath, thatâs how close they are. Heâs not sure if itâs a right feeling knowing damn well he didnât have a drop of alcohol yet in his system. His heart was racing, his breathing paced with anticipation. âYouâre the last one weâre waiting for at the table, letâs go?â Charles could only reply with a nod. His heart is in sync with the beats from the speakers.
"My god, will they ever stop playing Taylor Swift and start playing proper club songs?" Lando asked irritably while holding a beer in his hand. The rest of the group agreed and laughed. Meanwhile, Charles grabbed another bottle of beer as soon as he finished his first. He was annoyed, unable to sit still. He couldn't forget the warmth of Max's touch from a few minutes ago. They are very close friends, having been together since they were kids. But his touch from a moment ago felt different. His stare, his smile, it all felt different for the Monegasque. It wasnât right, what he was feeling wasnât right and the blue and red lights from the club hitting the godly face of the Dutch was not helping at all.
But we might just get away with it
Religion's in your lips
Even if it's a false god
âThatâs your third beer already, you havenât been here for a while. You good, Leclerc?â Max asked when he noticed Charles grabbing another bottle. Charles replied with a chuckle, âIâm good, this beer just tastes good.â
âAnyone wanna go to the dance floor?â Carlos asked excitedly, holding a beer in his hand and in the other is in Landoâs waist. I wonder what it feels to have Maxâs arm wrapped around me, Charles asked in his mind. Quickly tapping himself out of his sinful curiosity. Soon enough the table was empty, it was only Charles left.
Charles and Max. In the same table. Drinking the same beer. Blank stares.
We might just get away with it
The altar is my hips
Even if it's a false god
Max chugged his bottle of beer and opened a new one. There was an unusual grin on his face. It was only the two of them at the table.
âYou know, we actually didnât think you were gonna come. You were never really the club type of person, Charlie.â Max uttered, trying to break the ice between the two of them. Ever since Max pursued his passion in racing, the only conversations he had with Charles was the good morningâs and good nightâs along with the hiâs and helloâs whenever they saw each other in the streets of their homes.
âThere wasnât anything left to do at home so I decided to stop by. Itâs not the usual crowd I like but thereâs nothing to lose anyway. Plus, itâs free beer, Max. Who says no to that?â Charles leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair, hoping it could ease the tension between him and Maxâs stare. He is intimidated, but deep down he loves it. Max noticed Charlesâ continuous movements. Charles kept running a hand through his hair, chugging his beer once after every ten seconds, and licking his lips. Max knew it was all because of him. It was an obvious answer, it was only the two of them.
We'd still worship this love
We'd still worship this love
We'd still worship this love
âHowâs your racing career? Maman always bothers me with the remote, asking me to switch to the channel that shows your race.â It was true. Charlesâ mother loves Max dearly and treats him like his own son as well. They would always watch Maxâs races especially when heâs free from work. âIâve been winning races, I think you already know since you watch me drive.â
Charles chuckled, âI do.â
âDo you still serve at the church?â Max asked when he noticed a glimmer from Charlesâ chest when the light struck him. Charles held his small cross and shook his head, âI havenât been able to serve the church for a while now. Iâve been⊠busy.â
Max couldnât help but raise a brow with his response. The religious boy missing church, itâs like hearing about the diligent student cutting classes. He thought to himself as he saw Charles hiding his cross inside his shirt.
I know heaven's a thing
I go there when you touch me
Honey hell is when I fight with you
âCharles,â Max called, earning a small hum from Charles. âDo you want to go somewhere quieter?â Charles smiled and nodded. Charles knew he needed to be somewhere quieter, Max knew the younger was already overwhelmed with the loud crowd. Charles was no stranger to Max, he knew him more than one could ever imagine.
Charles took one last sip from his beer and stood to follow Max leaving the club. They sat down in the cold ground of the parking lot, disregarding the thought that there were nearby benches under the trees blowing cold winds. It was awfully quiet, opposite to when they were inside.
âDo you smoke?â Max asked while holding a stick of cigarette in his hand. Charles shook his head and watched as the older lit up the stick and blew smoke from his mouth. Charles never liked the smell of cigarettes, thatâs why he didnât know why heâs suddenly okay with Max smoking. At some point, he might even want Max to blow smoke in his face. âYouâre so quiet, Charles. Are you sure youâre okay?â
He didnât know what to say. How could he say that itâs him whoâs been bothering him since the moment he laid his hand on his arm without making it awkward? âIâm okay, itâs just a bit cold and I have nothing to say since nothing eventful has happened recently.â
âThen whatâs keeping you busy to skip church? Youâre one of the most religious people Iâve ever met.â Max asked in a curious tone. Charles didnât know how to answer that question as well. Heâs not himself lately, only Max noticed.
âMax,â Charles called. âHmm?â Max responded.
âWhy donât you believe in religion?â Charles noticed how Max subtly froze from his sudden question.
âWhatâs with the sudden question about faith and religion, Charlie?â Max chuckled. Charles was already about to speak again, probably to take back his question but Max spoke first. âI wasnât exactly raised in a religious family like you. My father is almost never home, my mother is also an atheist, and my sister, well, sheâs the religious one in our family but we were never really close. No one really guided me in the religious part in life. And besides, I find comfort in what I can see and understand.â
âBut still,â Charles started. âDonât you feel lost at times?â
Max smiled, âIâd rather be lost than have an unknown entity dictate whatâs right and wrong for me.â
âItâs not about dictating whatâs right and wrong, itâs more like a guide from whatâs right and wrong.â frustration was evident from Charles' voice along with his furrowed forehead. Max dropped his stick and stepped on it to kill the light. He gripped Charlesâs arm and made him look at him. He felt the younger flinch within his touch.
âCharles, whatâs wrong? Be honest with me, Charlie.â Max placed both of his hands on Charles' shoulder, closing the gap between them. Inhaling the intoxicating smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes. âMax, I-â
âÂĄHijos de puta, quĂ© feo su comportamiento!â Both Charles and Max immediately distanced themselves from each other, seeing their friends getting kicked out of the bar, wasted as fuck.
âReady to go home?â Charles snapped out of his thoughts when his mama tapped his shoulder. The mass had already ended and he didnât even notice. âIâll start the car, wait for me in front of the chapel so you wouldnât need to walk back to the parking lot.â Charles said with a smile as he stood up and made his way outside the chapel. The thing is, he's not headed to the parking lot.
Tipsy. They were both tipsy from all the alcohol they drank. Especially since they decided to continue drinking at Landoâs house after being kicked out of the club. Everyone was already wasted. Charles wanted to be wasted too, but his very high tolerance in alcohol is not helping him. He wanted to drown his thoughts. His sinful thoughts of Max. He keeps on having flashbacks of how Max gripped him and how he sounded when he asked him the simplest question he couldnât answer.
âThatâs enough, Charlie.â Max said as he snatched the beer from Charles hand and moved away all the cans of beer left. Charles groaned, he wanted more. He forcefully grabbed the canned beer in Maxâs hand which ended in the worst way possible.
âFuck!â Max screamed in shock as the cold liquid drenched his shirt. âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?â Max stood up and threw the can of beer in the nearest trash bin. Meanwhile, Charles ran a hand through his hair and left a frustrated groan before standing up and leaving the room.
âCharles,â Max called but to his dismay, Charles ignored him and went outside despite also being drenched with the cold beer.
âCharles, whatâs wrong? Câmon mate, speak up-â
âFor fuckâs sake, leave me alone Max!â Charles snapped. âEverything is wrong! It all started being wrong the moment you came back for good. I shouldnât be feeling like this, Max. This is so fucking wrong!â
âCha-â
âMan is created for a woman, a man is not created for another man. I canât have these kinds of feelings towards you, Max. I canât. My faith tells me it's wrong, but my heart... my heart is betraying everything I thought I knew.â
Max froze from where he stood. He didnât exactly know how to react knowing that the person he craves also craves for him but forbids himself because itâs against his religion. So he stepped forward, taking the risk, placing his lips against the lips he craves for.
A slap echoed in Maxâs ears. He felt a sting in his cheek as he once again froze from Charlesâ actions. âMax,â Charles was supposed to touch the cheek but was stopped by Maxâs tight grip on his wrist. Maxâs jaws clenched, still feeling the sting from Charlesâ slap as he dragged the younger inside to a vacant room.
âMax, Iâm sorry.â Charlesâ kept on trying to remove his wrist from Maxâs grip, âYouâre hurting me, Max!â
Charles was dizzy from the alcohol but it wasn't enough to knock him senseless. He was aware of where he was. He was aware of Max's intentions. He knew why he heard the door locked. And he knew damn well it's turning the both of them on.
âItâs funny how it's forbidden for a man to crave a man because your Jesus said so. But isn't your Jesus also a man?â Max whispered in Charlesâ ear. Pinning both of his hands on top of his head while the other hand rests on Charles' waist, gripping it from time to time. âAnd you people worship him so badly, craving for his attention.â
Max stepped an inch closer to Charles, closing the gap between them. Not even air could pass through them. Charles groaned at the friction caused by their hips touching. Max thrusted into Charles' clothed self, making the younger moan and close his eyes. Max placed his free hand on Charlesâ chin, making him look up. âOpen your eyes. Let me see those pretty eyes of yours.â
âLook at you, even your eyes crave for me, schatje.â Max buried his head on the youngerâs neck, leaving sloppy kisses and bite marks. He can feel his pants getting tighter every time he would hear Charles whimpering against his touch. âAlready such a fucking mess for me, sweet one?â
Max freed the younger's hands from being pinned against the wall and slid it down his pants. Charlesâ hands immediately found its way to Maxâs hair, tugging a handful as he felt Maxâs cold hand against his cock.
âYouâve been worshipping the same man for years now, Charlie. Would you go to hell if you'd worship another? Let's say, me?â
âFather, I have something to confess.â
'bayım, delirmek ĂŒzereyim, konuĆtuklarımı artık iĆitir misiniz.

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