#my need for making max verstappen cry is pathological apologies

[mediumtires]

okay so here is a quick little something inspired by this video.

Max calls late at night, Christian is a Good Surrogate Dad, and Toto just really likes his husband.

((this is a lil sad maybe be prepared))

--- 

“Toto.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to get the guestroom ready.”

“Okay?” Toto furrows his brows and lifts his gaze from the illuminating blue of his laptop screen. “Are we getting visitors?”

“Visitor. Just one,” Christian says, and there is something solemn to his expression. “Max just called.”

“Max?” Toto’s eyebrows lift. Christian nods and holds his gaze and the seriousness with which he does it makes Toto close his laptop without saving the files he’d been working on. “Is everything okay? Is he not in Holland?”

“Yeah, he was. Is. He’s on his way to the UK right now.”

He says it like it isn’t twelve past nine on a Wednesday night. Everything about this is catching Toto’s attention. “On his way… from Holland? And he’s sleeping here?”

Christian nods. Toto gets up from behind his desk. He knows the look on Christian’s face. “What happened?”

Christian falters. He allows Toto’s hand to curl around his hip. “He wouldn’t say on the phone. Something to do with Jos. He really just…” Christian clears his throat and says, “He really just asked if he could come.”

Toto studies Christian for another quiet moment, lets the words hang in the space between them, reads them for what they are, for what Christian read them as well. And more than anything, he trusts Christian’s instincts. “Do we need to go and pick him up?” he asks. “From the airport?”

Christian’s expression softens. “I told him I’d pick him up from Milton Keynes. He can use the airfield there.”

“I’m happy to go get him,” Toto says gently, “if you want to get the house ready. Or if you think he will be more comfortable with you, I will get things ready here.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Christian’s mouth, right where it wants to curl up into a soft smile.

Christian leans in for another kiss, a brush of lips and a quiet “I love you” all in one.

“I’ll get him. Pick nice sheets.”

---

Toto chooses the nicest ones he can find, based on softness, thread count, and thickness. He makes up the bed to the best of his abilities, goes downstairs and gets two more pillows from the living room, the soft, fluffy ones Christian likes to run his hands through when he’s tense. He also gets a bottle of water, a glass, and a few protein bars on the way, then changes his mind, drops the protein bars and grabs some chocolate instead.

He remembers the times oh too well, whenever he would have to crash on a friend’s couch for a night or two because money was tight and his options were limited. He knows none of these things really apply to Max, but still, he remembers the embarrassment, the feeling of not quite belonging, of being out of place and feeling like a burden, and from what little information Christian has provided him, Toto wants to make sure Max doesn’t have to concern himself with those feelings, too, once he arrives.

He tries not to overthink it too much. Max won’t care about candles or anything like that, Toto doesn’t think, so he just leaves the room tinted in the soft orange light from the bedside lamp and with the heating on so Max won’t freeze.

---

It takes about an hour until he hears gravel crunch beneath the tyres of Christian’s Range Rover, and Toto calls the dogs, eager and excited, to his side and leaves the volume of the TV exactly as it is, so Max doesn’t feel uncomfortably exposed when he comes in.

It’s Christian’s voice first as the front door opens and Bernie and Flav are ready to zoom out into the hallway, eager to greet him, but Toto holds them back with a gentle click of his tongue.

“Just leave your things by the door for now, we can take them up later. Don’t worry about it,” Christian says. “Let’s get you warmed up first. Do you want a cup of tea?”

There’s a low murmur in reply as the door to the kitchen is pushed open and Toto turns his head. Max is trailing behind Christian, pale, and where he normally stands tall with his shoulders pulled back, tonight he looks small, hunched in on himself, hollow, wide eyes and weariness written in every line of his face.

“There you go, that’s Toto, my husband.” Christian’s face morphs into a soft grin, wrinkles deep around his eyes. “You might’ve seen him around once or twice.”

“Hello Max.”

Max’s eyes flicker to where Toto is lounging on the sofa and for a moment, he meets a gaze completely unguarded. A young boy, tired and scared and sad. Toto’s heart shatters.

He gets up, slowly, so as not to startle either Max or the dogs, and shuffles over into the kitchen. Flav and Bernie trail behind him, first curious, then excited when they recognise the new visitor as someone familiar.

In passing, Toto places a hand on Max’s shoulder, a light touch, there, then gone, and hopes it is understood as reassuring. “Are you okay with the dogs? Or I can take them upstairs.”

“Uh… No,” Max’s voice cracks. “No, I mean, yeah, no, it’s fine. Thanks.”

Toto smiles at him, then steps up next to Christian, wraps an arm around his middle and drops a kiss to the top of his head. “There is some dinner left in the fridge,” he says, presses another soft kiss to the side of his husband’s face and adds, “I will leave you guys to it.”

Christian breathes around a smile, squeezes his hand in a quick gesture of appreciation. When Toto rounds Max once more, he smiles at him and says, “It’s good to have you here.”

---

Before Toto turns in for the night, he goes back downstairs. Technically he doesn’t need to check on things, Christian will come and join him in bed when he’s ready, but it’s been almost two hours and Toto wants to make sure things are okay.

The ground floor lies in darkness, only a sliver of light is coming from the kitchen and with it the hiccupping sounds of heaving sobs and choked up breaths. For a moment, Toto freezes right where he stands, an arm’s length away from the door.

He chances a glance through the crack where the door has been left ajar and his heart smarts at what he finds. Christian and Max at the kitchen table, Max with his head bowed and his arms wrapped around himself, trembling minutely under the weight of his own sobs, and Christian’s hand curled around his forearm, trying to console him.

Toto doesn’t stay to watch. He understands this is a private moment, Max sought Christian out because he trusts him, and Toto doesn’t want to break that trust by barging in on a moment as honest as this. But before he turns his back on the scene he chances a last look, not at Max, but at his husband, with an unusual softness to him, a tender gentleness in the way he holds Max in the only way he can, with a hand wrapped around the boy’s arm and his thumb stroking the exposed skin. Toto can’t help but think he chose well.

I will send out an army to find you In the middle of the darkest night It's true, I will rescue you.

#christian being a good dad #max is a lil sad #toto is a great husband #my need for making max verstappen cry is pathological apologies #max verstappen #christian horner #toto wolff #shorts #I apologise for the lack of talent I use the same twenty words every time I know #this is giving wattpad isn't it #sigh #seven years #seven years next may