Charlos || Charles Leclerc x Carlos Sainz Jr.

Miami: Part One

('Merica fuck yeah) 

Much like Carlos Sainz (Jr.), Miami was unbearably hot. Charles tugged constantly at the collar of his shirt, but nothing kept his clothes from sticking to him with sweat. It didn't help that he was practically shaking with nerves either. Every time he so much as glanced at Carlos, he felt a fiery blush creep up his neck. Their conversation in Italy still haunted him, and they had been avoiding each other like the plague. Maybe his drink was stronger than he thought, because he still couldn't think of a logical reason for saying "Batman moment."

Carlos's reaction made him instantly regret it. The Spaniard was obviously uncomfortable, and it made Charles feel even guiltier than before. Carlos would never like him back, and maybe Charles could live with that, but he knew he couldn't handle the distance between them much longer. He missed his laugh, the way he always smelled of teakwood and the raw power of fire, but most of all, he missed how happy Carlos made him. There was something so comforting about being around him, and it hurt that Charles had ruined that. He didn't know how to make things normal again. He would just keep joking, because if he stopped he would finally have to admit how much he wanted him.

🏎 🏎 🏎

One and two. Charles was grateful for the qualifying results because it gave them a reason to talk again, even if it was only professionally.

"I'll try and cover the inthide so Max can't get patht," Carlos said with a stern expression.

"Yeah, Daddy V has been having a lot of good starts this season," Charles agreed.

"I can try to procrastinate him for as long as I can, but he will get patht after a few lapth," Carlos added.

"Procrastinate him?" Charles tilted his head in confusion.

Carlos waved his hand, trying to think of the word. "Yeah, I'll try to make him wait."

"Oh! You mean like delay him."

"Yeth!" Carlos blushed deep crimson. "Thorry, my English ithn't very good."

Charles paused for a moment, looking for the right words. "No! It's better than mine, and besides, your accent is a lot hotter."

Carlos looked into Charles's emerald eyes with a look he'd never seen before. It was a searching look, you could almost hear the gears turning. "I can never tell if you're joking when you thay thingth like that," Carlos said at last. He looked almost... defeated?

"No I mean it, people have a field day with French accents."

"That'th not what I meant." Carlos was busying himself by staring at his shoes, and Charles knew that something wasn't right.

"What do you mean then?"

"You said it was hot. Please don't say things like that."

Guilt and shame rolled over him in a cold, oppressive wave. He never meant to make Carlos uncomfortable. Everything he did to try and make things normal only made it worse. Did Carlos know what Charles truly felt? Did he hate it? Was this his way of rejecting him? "I'm so sorry," was all he could muster, "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." It was an apology for everything. The kiss. The compliments. Everything. He dared to look at the brown-eyed man, prepared to face rejection.

Instead, Carlos looked at him with a strange determination. "You don't get it. Don't say it if you don't mean it." His voice broke. Charles was taken aback. For a flickering moment, he felt something dangerously close to hope. Carlos continued, crumbling completely as he rambled on. "You can't lead me on like that. You have no idea how much it hurtth. All the flirting and joking and me pretending like I don't care. I do care! I think I'm in love with you and you don't care at all. Not in the way I wish you did. You just joke." Carlos paused, eyebrows knit together, tears threatening to spill. The determination left his face as if realizing all of what he just said.

Blinking away his tears he turned to leave. "Forget I ever thaid anything." There was a coldness in his voice Charles hadn't heard before. It cut him.

Charles wished he could find the courage to speak up, to yell out and say that Carlos had it all wrong. He did care! He cared so much! Probably too much! But instead, he only watched as Carlos walked away, the back of his red jacket growing further and further away.

There was a sudden slap on his shoulder and he turned to see Mattia. "You're up Leclerc, get going," he ordered. Charles ran his hands through his hair, trying to gain some composure. He nodded and left the room without a word.  

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Another super early update because we love you. Cliffhanger because we hate you.  ❤️