Charlos || Charles Leclerc x Carlos Sainz Jr.

France

(oui oui oui croissant croissant croissant)

Carlos had barely said more than two sentences to Charles since he kissed Lando. He had said even less to Lando. He rationalized this by saying that having such critical conversations near a race would only make things worse, not that his plan helped the race results anyway. Carlos was happy enough with his fifth place given all the setbacks of the day, but Charles was absolutely torn by his DNF, and Lando – well this conversation isn't really about Lando. (Yes, I'm talking to you, Carlando shippers.) 

    Carlos had been pacing around his hotel room for a solid half hour before resolving to talk to Charles. It was now or never, and he left before he could convince himself that it was a bad idea.

    He stopped by a florist and decided on a bouquet of red roses, delicate stalks of lilies of the valley tucked in between the red blooms. The flowers that represented love and asking for forgiveness, or at least that's what the tired looking employee told him.

    He made his way back to the hotel, cradling the tissue wrapped bouquet in his arms. He knocks on the door gently at first, but when Charles doesn't answer, he knocks louder.

    When Charles finally answers, he's shocked to see Carlos there, although he regains his composure quickly. He eyes the bouquet. "Flowers aren't going to fix this," he says at last, voice firm.

    "I know, but can we at least talk?"

    Charles steps aside to let him in, and Carlos sets the bouquet on the table. He glanced at Charles guiltily, and began talking faster than his brain could keep up. "I'm so sorry I kissed him. I swear it didn't mean anything. I was hurt, and a little tipsy, but that's no excuse, and I'm so fucking sorry. I really hope you can for-"

    "You didn't just kiss him," Charles says, cutting him off.

    Carlos tilts his head in confusion. "What?" is all he can manage before Charles continues.

    "I know you used to be together," he blurts out, voice high and face flushed.

    Carlos is taken aback, tempted to ask where Charles found that out, tempted to challenge him with 'together is an overstatement,' but Carlos knows he's in the wrong, and his expression turns guilty. He steps forward, lifting his hands to touch Charles before he stops himself. "I should have told you. I just didn't think it was a big deal at the time."

    "You didn't think to tell me you're hanging out with the guy you used to fuck!" Charles is practically yelling now, unable to hold back.

    "We're friends! That's all we ever were!!"

    "I've seen the way he looks at you."

    Carlos stared at him, at a loss for words.

    "Do you love him?" Charles burst out suddenly, eyes glossing over.

    Carlos moved closer yet again, lifting his hands to cup Charles's face. "No. What? No! I should have told you that we used to hook up, but I promise that's all it was. We never had any feelings for each other. At least, I never had any feelings for him. We always said we were never more than friends."

Charles seemed about to lean into the touch before he remembered himself and pushed Carlos's hands away. "But you still kissed him."

"It was a mistake. Like a colossal mistake. I'm so sorry. Please, I never wanted him to come between us."

"Then why do you keep hanging out with him?"

Carlos cocked his head, his eyebrows furrowing together. "I'm allowed to have friends, Charles. I shouldn't have done what I did, but we're just friends."