Chapter Text
Summer break 2022 Maxs pov
Max was leaning over the kitchen stove, attempting to make stoofvlees. A meal that his mum prepared for them when he was visiting with Charles during Christmas.
The Moengasque fell in love with it, and Max was always a big fan as he asked for their recipe. He arrived later during the break, but things were so hectic with the start of the season that he didn't find time to make it just yet.
Now, though, it was the perfect time since he was home alone. Charles was out with Pierre on a yacht. Max wasn't a big fan of yachting, so he decided to pass on that.
Playing a bit of FIFA on stream with some of the guys from Red Line.
He still had a lot of time before Charles would come home since he started rather early. Max didn't want to underestimate the recipe.
He bought three different types of beer, trying them all before choosing one that would be perfect for the dish. Still, there wasn't nearly as big a selection as back in Belgium. The Monegasque people just preferred wine for some reason.
Max couldn't forget the horrified look on Charles's face when he found out the beef was cooked in beer. Saying that this is outrageous, and that the only alcohol that people should cook in is supposed to be wine.
He thought about all that while he stirred the meat and started preparing his mashed potatoes. Some people made fries to go with the beef, but Max didn't want to disrespect their diet completely, so he decided on this bit healthier variant.
Time flew by fast, and Max was so wrapped up in the kitchen, fussing over the food. He didn't even notice the door clicking shut.
Only when Charles walked into the kitchen, greeting loudly, did he realise how much time had passed.
“Hey, baby, this smells delicious. What is it that you're cooking?” Charles asked as he wrapped his hands around Max in the cliche way. The Dutchman couldn't even hold back his rolling eyes.
“Stoofvlees,” Max replied simply. Telling him the original name of the meal.
He could basically hear Charles thinking behind him. Trying to figure out what the fuck Max told him. If it was the real name of the food or if he just flipped him off in Dutch like he sometimes did.
“Hmm, sounds good,” Charles said finally. Correctly assuming what Max told him.
“It's uh, the thing we had at my mom's place during Christmas,” Max added, explaining to Charles.
“Oh, that was delicious, but didn't she say it was quite complicated?” Charles replied in a teasing tone, realisation painting his face.
Max looked around his shoulder with his usual glare. Did his soulmate just underestimate his cooking skills?
“Its quite complicated, that's why I'm taking so much time doing it. I even bought three types of beer to find the perfect one, and I've been working on it since late afternoon." He added his attention, coming back to whatever he was doing.
He couldn’t remember again; that was the Charles effect. It made Max completely forget what he was saying, doing, or thinking. His head was empty except for Charles.
“There's beer in it, right?” Charles said, scrunching up his nose cutely. Max couldn't help the small laugh he let out at that.
“That’s all you take from all I’ve just said,” Max said in small disbelief. Charles let him go slowly, looking into the stove.
“Not all, just the most important part,” Charles said, glancing back at him. Max only shook his head at that.
“Do you want me to help you with it in some way?” Charles asked casually.
Max couldn't help holding his laugh in after that. Charles looked up at him, his face puzzled.
“What? Is it nearly done or something?”Charles asked again, glancing at Max.
“No, it's just that I don't think you could help much around the kitchen,” Max said teasingly.
Charles looked at him, offended.
“Excuse you? You've just given me a lecture on how much of a cook you are after I made fun of you, and now you're initiating the same thing?” Charles asked overly dramatic way, which only the Monegasque could.
Max couldn't fight the laugh at this point from Charles’s theatrics.
“I'm sorry, schat, but I really don't remember the last time you cooked for us, except for easy breakfasts. The only time we have home cooked meal is from me,” Max explained with an eyeroll.
He damned the dish at this point. The conversation with Charles enveloped him easily. Charles obviously got lost in his head. Think back to all the moments he cooked, probably. He looked cute like that, desperately trying to find an argument.
“Oh my god! You're right. I've never cooked something nice for you. I'm a terrible boyfriend. How could you let this happen?" Charles started another tandem, putting his hands into his hair.
That was the moment that the potatoes beeped and Max realised that was what he wanted to do. Check up on the potatoes. He quickly turned them off, got the water out, and started to peel them.
“Charles, it's really not that big of a deal. I know you can't cook, and we usually have prepared meals, or we order in any way.” Max argued, peeling the potatoes.
“That's nonsense, I can cook. I just never really do. But don't worry, cheri, I will make it up to you,” Charles said and reached for one of the potatoes, probably ready to peel it.
Of course, he dropped it straight back into the pot with a loud squeak.
“Fuck, how is this so hot?! How are your hands not burning?" Charles squeaked out and put his fingers under cold water quickly.
Max laughed at him not so subtly, glancing over his shoulder to see if it was really as bad as Charles described it. It, of course, wasn't.
“Its not even red, Charlie. My hands are naturally cold. I thought we established that a while back. Besides, it's not that hot,” Max said, peeling the potatoes easily.
Charles just looked back at him, still slightly shocked.
“It burned my hand, Max. I think it's hot enough. Anyway, I will be cooking tomorrow's lunch. Since you think I'm incapable in the kitchen,” Charles replied easily, turning the water off.
“Sure you will.” Max snorted, peeling the last potato before going for the milk in the fridge. He added a bit into the pot to start making the mashed potatoes.
“Yes, I will, since you told me you don't think I can cook. Which is really ridiculous. I'm a great cook,” Charles argued with the wall at this point.
“Sure, sure,” Max said, turning the stove off as he finished making the mashed potatoes.
“You can hand me one of the plates so that I can serve our dinner if you want to help." Max nodded towards the cabinet where they stored them.
Charles stopped protesting realizing that Max had stopped caring about the argument minutes ago, and went to get the plates. He handed them to Max and went to set the table.
In no time, they were both sitting at the table with their meals set out in front of them. Max even got them the beer that he put in while cooking.
Charles frowned a bit, but eventually sipped it down and groaned with delight at the first bite. Max wanted to laugh at him first, but then he tasted it too and realised that Charles wasn't even exerting much.
“Max, this is so good. I think it's maybe even better than the one your mother cooked,” Charles said, chewing each bite carefully.
“I think it's decent enough,” Max replied easily. They ate slowly, talking and taking sips of beer.
Manner that Charles taught Max. To not eat in a hurry just to warm your stomach, but for enjoyment.
It was a good evening, and they went to sleep soon. Both were tired from the demanding day.
_____
Charles woke up to the sound of a loud alarm. He reached for the tiny machine almost immediately in a desperate attempt to make it shut up. Fortunately, Max beat him to it.
The Dutchman rolled out of bed and turned off the alarm.
“I'm so sorry,” Max murmured when he heard Charles annoyed groan.
“Where are you going?” Charles asked, confused. He reached for Max's hand, forbidding him to move farther from the bed.
“I have the paddle game with Alex today, I thought I told you?” Max said as if it were general knowledge. Charles kissed the knuckles of Max's hand that he was still holding before he let him go. So that the Dutchman could get ready.
“I forgot you told me, but enjoy it, cheri,” Charles said as he followed Max with his eyes, while the Dutchman got dressed.
“I will,” Max replied, aiming for casual, but Charles could see the red tips of his ears.
Charles tried to fall asleep again after that, but Max was being almost endearingly loud, so all Charles's attempts were useless. Seriously, how clumsy could man be?
First, he slipped onto something in the bathroom and fell on the ground with a loud bang, taking some of Charles' products with him as he fell. Charles got so scared for Max that he almost run form the bed to go save him.
Fortunately, the Dutchman quickly shouted that he's fine. Charles couldn't fight the disbelieving chuckle that left him when Max came back into the bedroom, picking up his paddle clothes. Max was carrying his towel that was probably wet from last night's shower.
He over dramatically hang it over the chair. That was when Charles realised that that was probably the item that made the Max trip so hard.
After that, Charles still had little hope, so he lay back down and closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to fall asleep again. It was still only eight A.M., and he loved his beauty sleep. Especially during the summer break.
Only for loud music to start blasting from the living room. It went for a few seconds, but it was enough to interrupt Charles again. In no time, Max pushed his head into the bedroom, checking if Charles was asleep.
When he saw Charles scrolling on his phone, sitting on the bed, the string of apologies started rolling from his tongue.
“Im so sorry. I wanted to put some music in my headphones, but I forgot to connect the first. I promise I will be so quiet from now on, so if you want to, you can go back to sleep,” Max said, leaving the usual tease.
It was nice to see him this caring. It wasn’t often that Max acted like that. Usually more of a tease. Especially when it came to Charles.
“I would love to say I trust you, but I think we both know how you are when it comes to being quiet,” Charles said with a subtle wink. Making Max less apologetic and more shy.
“Shut it, like you're any better,” Max huffed out, pretending to be annoyed.
“We both know I am,” Charles replied easily.
“Whatever, just if you want to sleep, you can,” Max said and left the bedroom. He banked with the door. Probably cause of the lingering anger and frustration.
It helped prove Charles' point of how loud Max can be, so he didn't even mind.
Charles got up after that and got dressed in his home sweatpants and shirt before he went to the bathroom. He knew Max would continue being loud no matter what he said, so he just went with waking up at half past eight.
At least Max cleaned up after himself in the bathroom, and all Charles' things were where they belonged. He quickly used all his products, brushed his teeth, and used the toilet before he headed out to the kitchen.
Max was already by the door, pushing his trainers in a sports bag, before he threw it all on the ground. With Max's luck, though, it landed right by the hanger that was already fragile, and it fell with all of their jackets.
The loud noise didn’t even faze Charles. Max quickly glanced up towards the bedroom. Only to see Charles already leaning over the doorway.
“I uh, I'm sorry,” Max started sheepishly as he picked up the numerous jackets. Charles just shook his head, amused.
“Just go, I will clean it up later,” Charles said and came closer to Max.
“And be careful, don't want you to bang your head with someone's racket or something,” The Monegasque said as he pulled Max closer by the waist, kissing away the angry pout on his lips before he could start arguing.
Max only stared at him for a bit when they pulled away. As if trying to remember what was happening.
“Go win the paddle game,” Charles said to him as he let go of Max's waist with one final kiss on his cheek. Max nodded quickly, getting back into the moment.
The door closed behind flushed Max as Charles watched him leave fondly. Charles headed into the kitchen after that to make himself some breakfast.
He rammed through the cabinets and fridge until he found some bread, cheese, and ham. He put it all together and ate in the kitchen. Too hungry and lazy to properly serve it.
Charles saw Max's dirty dishes from the morning and cleaned them up. The Dutchman made himself eggs with the same bread that Charles was currently eating.
That's when he remembered their conversation from yesterday. God, he needed to cook something for Max today, ideally for lunch.
Something traditional and preferably with wine. Something that looked fancy but wasn’t too hard to make. Charles was decent in the kitchen, but it had been a long time since he last cooked something.
He watched their empty cabinets and munched on his bread, thinking of all the meals his maman prepared for him, realising that he didn’t really know how to prepare any of them.
So he decided to give her a quick call, she recommended him to make Daube if he wanted to impress Max. So Charles quickly headed to the store and bought everything he would need. The meal was quite similar to what Max cooked yesterday.
Slow-cooked meat with wine as it should be, and some vegetables, he went strictly by the recipe and added each cut vegetable carefully. He almost forgot to season any of it, but fortunately, he remembered quite quickly that he needed to add it.
It took so much time, and Charles really thought that he would die in front of the counter, but it slowly started to look better, and it smelled delicious. Proud of himself, he decided to play on the sim for a bit. He even put an alarm on his phone so as not to forget.
He forgot all about the time, relying on his alarm. Charles didn’t even hear the door click.
“Charles?” Max said, tapping Charles's shoulder in greeting when he saw that he had finished the qualifying laps on the simulator screen. He didn’t want to disturb him in the middle of it.
“Oh, hey, I haven't noticed you there at all,” Charles greeted Max with a big smile as he got up from his chair and kissed Max in greeting. Only when he got up did he remember the meat in the kitchen.
Oh god.
His face turned from smiling and bright to pale and horrified so quickly that even Max turned concerned.
“What is it?” Max asked, holding Charles' face in his palms. The Monegasque didn’t even answer, just raced back into the kitchen.
It looked alright from outside the pot, bubbling happily. When they both reached the kitchen, did Max realise what had probably happened.
“How long has it been there?” Max asked, concerned as he saw Charles panic around and turning hte stew off.
“I don't know. I put on an alarm, but it didn’t ring for some reason. I just hope it's not ruined,” Charles said, looking desperately at the meal before he cut into it. Trying a bite of the vegetables and meat.
Thankfully, it wasn’t terrible. Slightly overcooked, sure, and the kitchen was really foggy since he forgot to turn on the kitchen hood.
“Try it,” Charles said and forced a forkful into Max's hand, looking concerned. Max frowned a bit but ate it.
“It’s alright,” Max said as he chewed, and Charles beamed out a smile, relieved.
“Great, well that's our lunch, I hope you’re proud,” Charles said as he turned everything in the kitchen off except the hood and started serving the meal. Max chuckled out a laugh.
“Sure, I’m so proud of you for forgetting about our lunch and making our kitchen into a walk-in sauna,” Max said as he set the table.
Charles rolled his eyes in answer.
“Just admit that I'm a good cook,” Charles said as he sat down across from Max.
“I will never,” the Dutchman said, sticking his tongue out.
“But I'll admit that this is pretty good considering your previous attempts,” Max added before Charles could pout and argue.