A Little Flirting Hurt No One

Pretty when you cry

A/N: IM BACK FROM THE DEAD (for now). so super super sorry about all that, a shit ton happened in this past month which kinda prevented me from updating (and also my laziness). I'm on vacation rn but it won't be long and only about 2 weeks. I'll hopefully get back into my habit of posting every 2 weeks if all goes well. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! (It's pretty short just to move things along but I promise next one will be longer)

Don't say you need me when,
You leave and leave again,
I'm stronger than all my men,
Except for you,

- Pretty when you cry - Lana Del Rey

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When Charles awoke that morning, he found a weight holding his waist down, and an extra leg sprawled over his. Turning his head, he was reminded of the embarrassing scene (in his opinion at least) that had unfolded the night prior. Flustering, Charles quickly rolled away from Carlos's grasp, thankful to the fact Carlos hadn't woken up.

Sitting up, the Monegasque realized there was no escaping this, he was in the middle of the sea for gods sake. So doing what any rational person would do, he got up, brushed his teeth, and plopped back onto the couch phone in hand. His finger mindlessly scrolled through the endless masses of content, passing the time until Carlos woke up and they could go get breakfast.

Much like Charles, Oscar also happened to be awake; barely getting any sleep that night. The scene in the bathroom kept replaying in his head, guilt crippling over him, as if he was the one who had crashed his lips onto Carlos's. Alas, he didn't want to worry Lando, so he kept his doll face on, not a challenging task for him considering he's had to do it many times before in media.

Finally, the Spaniard eyes fluttered open, rubbing circles at them as he yawned.

"Good morning," he said as he got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom.

"Good morning to you too," Charles tried to repeat with the least amount of anxiety in his voice, clearly failing as he cringed at the way he said it.

Unlike Charles, Carlos didn't seem to have an ounce of worry or care in the world, as if cuddling your teammate was the most normal everyday thing to do.

"Are you okay?" The Spaniard asked after brushing his teeth, "after what happened last night."

"Yes, yes perfectly fine you don't have to worry," Charles stated in panic, embarrassment filling him.

"Well you can always talk to me Charles, I'm your teammate and also your friend."

The reassurance made Charles feel a little less flustered and a little warmer, knowing that he could trust and count on somebody was a nice feeling to have.

"Now cmon we need to get to breakfast," he added, grabbing a set of clothes and retreating back into the bathroom to change, "I've already texted Lando we'll be down in 20."

After taking turns changing, the two drivers made their way downstairs and to the restaurant entrance, which to their surprise, was relatively empty.

"There you are!" Lando stated joyfully, "we've been waiting for you two!"

Laughing, Carlos playfully snapped in return, "I said we'd be down here in 20, so impatient."

As they took their seats, Charles couldn't help but notice the tired expression on Oscar's face, dark bags beneath his eyes that barely seemed to open. He's seen this sate before, many times, in himself.

There was something up with Oscar.

Although he knew there was something worrying Oscar , he decided not to approach the subject around a group of people, especially when he knew the Australian didn't trust him enough.

Lando chewed at the plate of hash browns and eggs he had brought, with Carlos and Charles opting for pancakes and eggs.

Oscar however, barely had any food on his plate, to which Charles was quick to notice.

This was more serious than he thought.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom, be back in a sec," said the Australian after swirling his food around his plate.

After he had made his way to the bathroom, Charles decided to interfere.

"Me too," he added, knowing for a fact the Aussie wasn't going to the bathroom for the right reasons, let alone any reason. He needed to figure what was wrong before it escalated any further.

Making his way through the restaurant and to the bathroom, he was weary to not startle the younger one, after all he needed to make sure Oscar could trust him.

The Aussie was stood facing the mirror, hands on sink and lost in thought.

"Hey mate," the Monegasque said as he approached the spot next to the other one. He seemed to snap out of thought at the sound of Charles, yet he gave no reply.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he almost immediately replied, voice full of nervousness and doubt.

"I know something's wrong, you can't keep lying to yourself and me," Charles stated, feeling worry for the boy as if he was his own son.

Knowing there was no escaping this, the other let out a sigh, though he wasn't going to just blurt out the full truth.

"I'm just...feeling a lot of weight on my shoulders recently, like this guilt that doesn't belong to me is still burdening me."

"Do you know what it is?" Charles pushed, wanting to get the answer out of him.

Although it was clear he pushed too far as the younger seemed to tense up and divert his gaze.

Knowing he had crossed a boundary, there was no getting more answers today, he would have to earn his further trust.

"Well if you ever want to talk about it, I'm always here," the Monegasque stated as his final words, stepping away from the marble sink top and towards the exit, "Cya at the table, if you still feel like eating."

The Aussie nodded his head as a salutation, still not looking him in the eye.

While he still didn't feel comfortable telling Charles, it was nice to know someone he could count on .

It was nice to know someone else who cared about him.