#easy fix

"We should go on vacation together."

Max looks up from his phone, surprised.

Charles is leaning over the chair across from him, race suit around his hips. They're waiting for the drivers meeting to start, but they're a few people down still, so there's scattered conversations across the room.

Max points a finger back at himself.

"Me?"

Charles nods, and there's something weirdly intense in his eyes as he leans further forward.

"Yes, you and me. Check out a beach somewhere for a couple days- it'll be nice, really."

There are several other people Charles should want to take a beach vacation with before Max.

Several.

Last year when Max had gone to Italy, he'd ended up completely zoned out almost the entire trip- barely remembers anything except warm sand and soft winds, seagulls he could hear through the villa windows. It had been nice, and he'd been very relaxed afterwards, but he'd also gone completely radio silent by accident, and had a lot of explaining to do when he got back.

Still- he'd felt really good when it was over, muscles loose and relaxed, thoughts slowing to a manageable pace. It could be nice to do that again.

He's not sure he wants Charles with him though. At the same time-

"Sure."

What's the worst that could happen?

------

Max is slumped onto a the smooth stone of the cave, drooling into the ground as Charles twists another tentacle inside of him. The viscous secretion that had gone down his throat is definitely kicked in by now- he feels more like a doll than anything, supported only by the tentacles wrapped in and around him.

He goes cross eyed as it pushes against his prostate, moaning as it slides in and keeps going- the fullness feels overwhelming.

Charles rumbles at him, and one of the larger tentacles wraps around Max's waist, pulls him into the air. He's limp as he dangles- if Charles wants him to move he's going to have to do it himself- and the change in the angle just makes everything worse, like he's being split open and reshaped, exactly how Charles wants him. In a way, he is.

He's pretty sure he's doing better than last year- he's been conscious longer this year, and he's not as afraid, he knows Charles won't hurt him- even if it feels like adding another tentacle really will kill him.

"Charles, Charles, s'not enough, need more-"

This problem is new. If he had it last year he doesn't remember it- but Max isn't filled enough. It doesn't feel possible, not with the way there's three of them inside him already, pushing deeper than anything should go, but-

It's not satisfying the deepest part of Max, the spot in his gut that's aching, empty and untouched. He needs it, more than anything else.

A smaller tentacle slides up to support his head, pushes gently against his jaw.

"I know, you need it, need a clutch so bad, I'm almost ready-"

Max sobs as the three tentacles inside him twist together, pushing against him and sliding, hot-thick-wet-hard on a loop in his brain. He's absolutely useless like this, can't focus on anything but being filled, scratching the itch under his skin that demands Charles take care of him.

There's a thick tentacle lifting near his mouth- it's the one with the slime, or whatever it is- makes Max fuzzy and not feel as much. He twists his head away, futility trying to spread his legs further.

"No, no I want- I want to feel it, please-"

Charles sounds incredibly satisfied when he rumbles again, and Max can feel the tentacles inside him start to stiffen, holding him open as Charles carefully lowers him into the water.

"You are perfect, Max. Perfect brooder, you need it so bad- you want to feel it, want to take care of them. You carry so well for me."

Charles' breathing picks up as Max is mostly submerged, head and shoulders above water as he feels the rest of the tentacles swarm over him, pinning him in place, squeezing his thighs, milking at his cock, pulling at his chest-

It's too much.

Max is practically stupid with it, seeing double and crying as he finally starts to feel the pressure- Charles is giving him what he needs.

It feels endless, but slowly the ache inside of him starts to settle, even as Max feels beyond full- he's doing a good job, doing exactly what Charles needs.

Charles is whispering soft words at him, but Max isn't aware enough to catch them, just knows that they sound sweet and encouraging as the pressure builds and builds.

His toes are curling, muscles so tight he thinks he might snap when Charles lets out a low warble, and then Max is coming for a final time, fucked out and thoroughly bred as he passes out.

------

Max is pressed to Charles' chest, lazily floating in the water as Charles' fingers skate along his prostate, playing with him more than anything- Max is too tired to contribute, lets the orgasm flow through him in a gentle wave.

Charles is floating on his back, and there's something being pressed to Max's lips.

He's tired of fish. The babies aren't big enough to want it yet, and Max is sick of it. He would kill for a steak right now.

"Max. You need to eat."

He turns his face further into Charles' chest, hips weakly twitching as Charles pulls his fingers back out.

"I am tired of fish."

Charles sighs, and then he's hooking his index finger behind Max's teeth, pulling his head up to give him a soft glare.

"We are in the ocean. Fish is all we have."

Max closes his lips around Charles finger, toys at it with his tongue- he knows Charles is into that, and the way his face shutters as he presses further into Max's mouth is only proof.

Max lets go, resting his chin on Charles' sternum.

"I want steak."

"You're kidding."

Charles looks annoyed, but also- there's a tiny crack in his expression, enough that Max thinks he might have a shot here.

"Steak and a kebab. From the market."

Charles' hands rest of Max's hips, and there's a few tentacles sliding and squeezing around him, a sign Max is beginning to learn means Charles is conflicted or stressed. Or horny. It's actually a sign of most things, now that he's thinking about it.

"Max- you are carrying, I am not going to leave you here with an undefended clutch to go get a kebab."

Max shifts his hips down, rutting gently against Charles' hip.

"The babies want it."

Charles snorts.

"Sure. Unless you are carrying baby sharks, I don't think so. And they would want fish anyways, so nice try- but no."

Max groans. He's full and hungry, and if he's going to be in this cave for a week, he wants something to do.

It hadn't been a problem last year- he'd been so exhausted that he'd slept most of the carrying period.

This year, however, had gone exactly as Charles had predicted. Max had been building a thin, stubborn layer of fat over his chest and thighs, and it had been stumping him and Jake to no end- no amount of dieting or working out was getting rid of it, but Max was still within his target weight.

He actually got to workout less because of it- though Jake had upped his long runs and endurance training.

Now, he's starting to shed that weight, because even if he hadn't, his body had been preparing for the entire year, waiting until he needed it for the eggs.

It also means he wants steak. The eggs are perfectly well taken care of- because Max is amazing at everything he does, up to and including egg carrying, thank you- but now he needs to be taken care of.

"Charles."

Charles doesn't meet his eyes.

"Max."

Max curls his fingers loosely around one of the tentacles- it's a thicker one, his fingers can't quite wrap around it, but it's firm and slippery, and he's almost not thinking about it as he slides his hand up and down a section of it.

Charles shudders underneath him. The tentacles around Max's waist and thighs tighten- he'll be impressed if he doesn't have purpling bruises on his skin when this is over.

"Max."

"It will be fine, Charles. The clutch and I are perfectly okay. Please?"

Charles sighs, and Max can tell he's won, grinning as he pushes up on Charles' chest, water lapping at his hands.

"Yes! Thank you, you are such a good provider-"

Max is learning what makes Charles tick as well, and the soft rumble Charles makes at his words confirms it. The tentacles give Max a few more soft strokes before he's being rearranged in the corner of the pool- his corner- with the small rock shelf for his legs, the pillow and blankets for his arms and head.

This area has gotten nicer since last year as well. Max has better blankets, the rocky corners and edges are smooth and rounded.

Charles gives him an annoyed look as he floats closer to the edge of the cave- Max has figured out there's an underwater passage there, and that's how they're getting in and out.

"You are ridiculous."

Max gives him his most innocent smile.

"Steak! And kebabs!"

Charles rolls his eyes, and then he's back underneath the water. Max sees the soft rectangular lighting disappear into the darkness as he leaves.

The bioluminescence has been intriguing Max, and he makes a note to ask about it- how deep can Charles dive, to need his own light source?

He settles onto his folded arms. He should've asked Charles to grab his phone too- maybe get some emails answered, sign off with something stupid like 'max verstappen + eggs' and then never elaborate.

Now he really wishes he'd asked Charles to grab his phone.

He loses track of time a bit, half dozing in the water, starting to kind of miss Charles. He has no idea how long it takes him to get to the market and back- or if Charles has to do some kind of weird thing to make the tentacles disappear. That seems important to know, and Max doesn't want to have to wait a year to find out. He'll ask when Charles gets back.

------

Max is startled out of his half nap by a large splash, and then Charles is bursting out of the water, curling over him so quickly Max barely processes what's happened. One moment he's dozing in his pool, and the next he's practically cocooned in tentacles brushing gently over him, almost like they're checking on him.

Charles looks stressed, cupping Max's face in his hands.

"No one- no one has come in here, yes?"

Max frowns. He's not sure why Charles is so freaked out, but he doesn't like it- raises a hand to curl around Charles' wrist, doesn't complain as the tentacles wrap around him, sliding over his skin.

"No, it's just been me. No one else, I promise."

Charles buries his nose into Max's neck, cocoons Max completely, pressed up against him.

Max lets him- doesn't even ask if he's gotten the food, because Charles is distressed, and Max is bitchy but not heartless.

He's running his thumb along the side of Charles wrist, keeps his breathing deep and even as Charles holds him.

"Did you see something?"

He keeps his tone light and casual, tries not to kick his leg as a tentacle wraps around his ankle.

"Someone else has been nearby. I could- I could tell. They were scouting out the cave."

Charles still sounds freaked out, but he also sounds pissed.

Max carefully rolls the information around in his mind.

"Do we need to move?"

Everything tightens around Max at once, and he squeaks as all the air pushes out of his lungs, frantically tapping at Charles arm.

"Merde- sorry, sorry Max. No, we are not moving. It would be too stressful for you."

Max raises an eyebrow.

"And knowing there is someone watching the cave isn't stressful?"

Charles bites at his lip, blood welling up where his teeth sink in. Max reaches a hand up, swipes his thumb carefully across it before pushing down, applying pressure.

"I am not fragile. If we need to move, we need to move."

The rumble from Charles is more aggressive than any Max has heard before- vibrates through him down to his bones.

He's watching Max intensely, eyes dark. Max lets him work through it in his head, waiting patiently. He still wants steak.

Charles sighs, nosing at Max's shoulder again as there's a soft scrape of teeth.

"Maybe next year. I do not have anywhere else set up at the moment- but I also panicked, when I noticed, so-"

He winces.

"My family knows. Lolo will probably come by to help guard the cave."

Max feels his cheeks heat up near instantly, embarrassment rushing through him.

"Oh my god."

This is... not how he wanted to meet Charles' family. Officially, anyways- he's met them all at race tracks many times, but not-

"Ohhhhhh my god."

He drops his face into his hands. Charles is making a smaller rumble, holding Max tighter to him.

"It is okay, Max. They understand, and Lolo will be very nice- you probably will not even see him."

It doesn't help.

Max is never going to be able to look Charles' family in the eyes again.

Charles sighs, brushing at Max's hair.

"I have kebabs?"

Max perks back up.

------

It's been a few days, and Charles is starting to get stressed. Max is as well, because- this time last year he'd had the egg in his lap by now, and this year it's still just the two of them.

Max hasn't mentioned it, but he's not feeling well- flips between hungry and nauseous, spends more time lying on top of Charles as they float in the water than he does anywhere else.

He's been eating the fish Charles brings him, even when he's not particularly hungry. He worries maybe the egg- because at this point surely it's gotten down to a singular one- might somehow not be getting enough from him.

Charles is dozing, floating on his back with Max on top of him. Max has his face tucked into his neck.

"I am doing a bad job."

Charles hums, mostly asleep.

"...what? I did not catch that, sorry."

Max tries to ignore the tug in his chest.

"I am not doing a good job- I'm fucking it up."

Charles is definitely awake now- sits them up so that he can look at Max.

"Don't say that. Don't- you are doing perfect, Max. It is not you."

Max frowns. He can see the guilt written across Charles' face as well.

"Well, it is not you. So I am the problem."

Max knows he's right. He's done something wrong here, and he's going to figure it out. Going to excel at this, just like he does everything he's ever put his mind to.

Charles makes a distressed noise, fingers tightening on Max's hips.

"Max, it is possible that it's neither of us- sometimes it is just a bad clutch. Although, that would also be my fault."

It hadn't felt like a bad clutch- not that Max would know, he has no baseline for good or bad, barely remembers last year.

He can't ignore that he's still been eating more as well- and losing weight, which means there's still an egg, and it's still taking nutrients, it just- hasn't come yet.

Max hasn't fucked up completely. They might still be able to fix it.

He has a brief moment internally, wondering when he'd started caring about taking care of an egg- an egg- that his coworker has given him.

Well- Charles is a bit more than a coworker now.

Max tries to tackle it like a racing problem- he's losing time somewhere, why.

Max is eating enough, he's sleeping enough, and despite the scare earlier in the week he's not distressed- the only thing that bothers him other than the occasional nausea is that he's cold.

He blinks.

He's cold all the time.

Max wasn't cold last year- he remembers this much. The pool isn't exactly cold either, nice and warm, but right now- the only time Max has felt warm is when he's practically trying to crawl into Charles' skin.

That's not Max's needs- it's the egg.

He pokes Charles in the chest.

"I think we need to go somewhere warmer."

"Huh?"

Max frowns, pressing tighter to Charles, trying to get more of his warmth.

"I am cold, Charles, all the fucking time. I do not think it is just me- I just didn't realize until now. I think it needs to be warmer."

Charles' brows are pressed together, hands running down Max's sides. The warmth helps- and it makes Max feel better to realize it's not that he's become about as useful as damn limpet- it's just that he's been subconsciously trying to fix the problem.

"We're already in the Mediterranean- we'd need to go south to get any warmer, closer to the African coast."

Max is fine with that.

"I think- Charles, I don't know what else it could be."

"Okay. That's fine, we can do that."

Charles tilts his head to the side, eyeing Max.

"I'm going to be very confused if you have a tropical egg, by the way."

Max shrugs.

"You are the one who knows the biology here, not me."

------

Max doesn't want to know if Charles' species has an Airbnb service for little dens. He thinks they might- or maybe a very good honor system, because he's been asleep for most of the trip, doesn't even want to ask how they'd gotten here.

He's curled up in a new cave, warm and humid. Charles looks out of place here, deep blue tentacles and bioluminescence stark against the lighter stone and coral.

It confirms Max's thought about regional differences.

He's feeling much better now, even if Charles looks slightly miserable, which Max feels a little bit bad about.

Another head of hair pokes through the surface of the water, deep brown eyes scanning over them both.

Lorenzo had traveled with them, guarding the new cave as well. Max has sort of gotten over the embarrassment- for the moment, anyways- and it's nice to have him here, hunting for food now that Charles refuses to leave Max's side.

Charles lifts his head from Max's thigh.

"Lolo, how the fuck is he having a tropical egg?"

Lorenzo passes Charles what looks like a stingray, neatly sliced open.

Max has developed a taste for the meat, which makes his stomach turn if he thinks too hard about it.

"Human repo is weird, Charlot. The stem cells make things funky- sometimes they give completely different species."

Charles eyes the slice of stingray meat he's passing to Max.

"...are you actually having sharks?"

Max feels his eye twitch.

"Charles, how the hell would I know? They're your eggs."

Lorenzo snorts, patting Charles' shoulder before flashing a smile at Max.

"I hope you feel better soon. Shout if you need anything."

He dips back underwater, and Charles flops his head back on top of Max's thigh.

"Am I going to need caves all over the world for you? Is that what this is?"

Max wrinkles his nose, trying to hide his amusement.

"Well, I am of course fairly wealthy- having multiple properties cannot be that much of a surprise."

Charles laughs into his leg as Max combs his fingers through his hair.

"Of course."

------

Max is feeling ill again, stomach doing flips as he groans, back pressed to Charles' chest.

"I know, but you are doing so well- you have taken such good care of the clutch this time, better than I could've asked."

Charles is speaking softly into his hair, even as Max tips his head back, fingers gripping one of the tentacles. He doesn't remember the egg part being this bad last year, but maybe his brain has blocked it out- the pressure is back, sends roiling shockwaves through him.

Charles is carefully stretching him open, slow and methodical. It helps a little bit, but mostly Max just wants it to be over-

There's a tentacle sliding up his hip, wrapping around his cock, and Max jerks, even though he's pinned down. Charles is squeezing at his chest, and it's helping, taking his mind off of everything, losing himself in it.

Max isn't sure how long he's stuck in the limbo, distracted by wandering tentacles and clever hands, Charles taking his mind off of everything, gently coaxing him through it, even as it builds and builds-

It's gone.

Max comes with a gasp, arching up in Charles' grasp. He can faintly hear a confused noise from Charles, before he's carefully being arranged back in his little coral cranny, and then something is carefully being placed in his lap.

It's not like the last egg. It's- it's squishy.

Charles cocks his head to the side.

"Max, I actually think those might be sharks."

Max gingerly runs a finger along the sack membrane. Little menaces- no wonder it's been hard this year, there must be over a dozen of them in there.

He's weirdly proud of himself. Sharks.

He looks back up at Charles, feels a smile tugging at his lips.

"Unleash the shark?"

Charles groans.

"That was terrible."

------

Last year, Charles had left Max back at the villa, confused and forgetful. This year, Max is traveling back to Monaco with him. Charles is still being weirdly attentive, even without the tentacles- straightening Max's hoodie, pressing against him at the airport in the private lounge, always having water or a snack.

Max hasn't forgotten anything yet- it's crystal clear in his mind.

It's kind of fucking with him a little bit. Charles had said it would take a few years before Max started remembering things- but he's wondering privately if maybe he's rushed this timeline, like all the others in his life.

He's mildly worried he's going to grow gills next.

Max splits from Charles at the airport, tries to ignore the weird feeling in his chest at the way Charles almost reaches after him, shoving his hands into his pockets instead.

"Same time next year?"

There's a wry twist at the side of Charles' mouth.

"Oui. I'll do some cave hunting this year, since you are so picky."

Max grins.

"Have fun with that. Bye, Charles."