Work Text:
Here laid Max, covered in blood, that was not his own. His neck, torso and every part of his body down to the caps of his knees, were splashed, soaked, simmering red. The dirt under his fingernails seemed clean, golden, next to the maroon nailbeds. Pushing up had not helped Max and that’s how the warm blood trickled onto his fingers also. The man that had lied on top of him, dying, had been carried away by now, but the weight still stayed. He’d not yet moved from his place on the carpet, unsure if the blood had stuck like honey to his clothes, that were in turn stuck to the carpet. There was an image tumbling around in his head, of crisp thin threads of honey, walking from carpet to body. The image birthed in him an idea of sweetness. Not a smell, not a sense, not a wish or a memory. An idea.
Valtteri spoke to him, softly, but he could not hear. There were three fingers threading through his hair, carrying electricity and affection. Max noticed Valtteri’s mouth moving, his tongue touching between his teeth, his lips joining together, pushing out and separating, making slow curves around air. It felt curious to look at the motions while detached from the reason for them.
A weighty vibration reached him quickly, coming from right beside him. Charles had clearly landed on his knees, right next to him. Red was on him, too, in a different sense. His face looked dried out from sweat, pinkish, contorted into panic, and Max yearned to stop it. He yearned to stretch out his arm, or both of them, to fix a hand delicately on the beautiful face cursed with marks of pain and fear. He wished the beds of his fingers could reach the side of that face, just to lay them gently upon Charles’ cheek. Most of all, he longed to tell Charles something that would take everything away. The red you see is not mine, darling. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, darling. You look divine, my valentine, darling.
The more people joined around Valtteri and Charles—Alex, Lando, Guanyu—the more oxygen was used up in the room, the more tired Max grew. He found himself staring into the diamonds painted in Charles’ eyes, glittering more than they should, but glittering beautifully nonetheless.
Falling asleep was easy, as it always was when Charles was around. Just like on a normal day. The similarities, familiarities ended there.