stolen kisses - carlando

eleven

Charles and Carlos didn't speak about what the Monegasque driver had witnessed in Bahrain. It merely persisted, the slight awkwardness finding its way into any interaction between the Ferrari teammates. The Spaniard had initially been worried sick that the news would get leaked and he and Lando would be faced with a whole other set of problems long before they were ready to even considers much less handle them. But Charles knew, in fact, that keeping it a secret was a better decision for his sake if nothing else.

Personally, he didn't care if someone was gay, bi, whatever Carlos was, he thought. It wasn't as if he had lived underneath a rock his whole life, he had gay friends and was anything but homophobic. So in truth, what did it matter to him. He also didn't care if Carlos and Lando were together, hell, everyone deserved to be in a relationship with someone who made them happy and the Spaniard was visibly happy. It wasn't even for Carlos' well being that he chose to leave the information unsaid. It was for his personal benefit.

He held a newfound sense of power over his teammate that even his engineers could never find out about as they would not support his notions. It would remain their little secret, Charles' manner of ensuring that he was Ferrari's #1, that he was priority and the only priority.

In truth, Charles had nothing against Carlos personally. The Spaniard was professional, cordial, everything that was to be expected from a responsible Formula One teammate. The two got on just fine, but Charles undeniably felt threatened. His first two years at Ferrari he had driven alongside Sebastian Vettel, undoubtedly one of the absolute legends of the sport. He wasn't expected to outperform the German, though he had some impressive results in those seasons. However, Seb took on a mentoring role, the two never felt strict competition since they both had different aspirations with the team. One looking to maintain and preserve his legacy, while the other was attempting to cement his spot as one of the best drivers at one of the most prestigious teams.

With Carlos, it was different. Though the Spanish driver was three years his elder and had 3 years more experience in the sport, Charles had proven that he was equally capable. Age ceased having an impact on the team's view on their drivers since both had shown their competence and ability. And now, Charles was regarded as Il Predestinato, Ferrari's new golden boy. He knew he had the weight on his shoulders of proving that the name had backing. The last person he would let get in his way, he decided, was his own teammate.

It had been a few races into the season and Ferrari's start was relatively peaceful, not exceeding nor failing to meet expectations of the car and the team. The Monegasque hadn't yet found i necessary to pull strings in order to get his way on track. But he wouldn't hesitate to, it wasn't as if there was anything Carlos could do about it. With Carlos starting second on the grid for the upcoming race and Charles fourth, it was an excellent chance for the team to achieve a strong result.

Lando and Carlos had also been thriving in the past weeks. Spending as much time together as possible outside the race weekends, traveling together, and certainly getting more than their fair share of sex, it almost seemed too good to be true. Many of their inhibitions, their doubts going into the season, had been put at ease with how smoothly their relationship had progressed through their bustling lives. Bahrain was the first and last time, though, that either one of them attempted to sneak the other into a team hospitality. They had been fortunate that it was merely another driver and not anyone else who had caught their little intimate moment. It served as a warning that they would need to be much more cautions and tread with care, since they were taking part in a high risk behavior. Yes, it reaped high rewards but there was undoubtedly the risk of failure, or worse, exposure.

It was amusing, though, that Lando and Bianca Sainz had become friends through all of this. Both of them had kept a watchful eye on the Spaniard, especially with his father's slowly deteriorating condition. Carlos Jr. seemed less affected by it, or perhaps he had gotten better at concealing his true worries on the issue. His success on track certainly was a boost to his morale each week, reassurance that no matter what went on behind the scenes, his performance was still on par with the expectations and that he was not only surviving, but thriving when in the right circumstances.