Work Text:
The races in the States always had a special taste. Maybe it was all the media buzz, the celebrities attending the race, or the amount of events they had to do, but they were always one of the most enjoyable weekends in the year. This year, it also gave Carlos a sense of normality coming back, and that was a good thing among face masks and tight sanitary protocols.
As he arrived at the next sponsor event in a golf course, his fingertips started to tingle in excitement and anticipation. He loved playing golf so it was going to be a good one. He flashed a smile to one of the Ferrari publicists who looked a bit distressed.
“Carlos, have you seen this?” The man handed his phone to the Spaniard. On the screen there was a video by professional golf player Ian Poulter inviting him to play some golf. The next video popped up and the man was doing the same thing with Lando Norris and Zak Brown. Carlos nodded, he had seen the notification early in the morning.
“Yeah, as I had to bring my golf clubs here I had thought to have some fun with some old friends.” He shrugged unbothered, giving the phone back to his owner.
The man didn’t seem pleased with his answer. One of his eyebrows had skyrocketed up his forehead and Carlos could appreciate the effort the guy was doing in wording his thoughts correctly.
“Look, we’re not telling you to not have friends in other teams, but at this point of the season, where our battle with McLaren is that close, I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this kind of stuff. What are people going to think if they see you having fun with our main rivals?” The man paused and pointed around. “We are Ferrari, we work differently to the rest of the teams. This is not good publicity for us, it gives out the image that you prefer to hang around with your former team than with us. We can’t allow that, I’m sorry.”
Carlos snorted in disbelief, he looked around to see what the man meant. Glamour, of course. Ferrari was glamour and ostentation. The first example of what a luxury life was for a lot of people. Ferrari was a lot of other things for sure, but the image they portrayed was that, and they loved it.
“I’m sorry but is this some kind of joke?” The Spaniard asked. “It’s not only them, we’ve got one of the best golf players in the world involved, it’s been planned for weeks now!”
“We’re firm on this, Carlos. And we’d thank you if you could keep a bit of distance with McLaren members, at least until the end of the season. It’s not a good image for you or for us.”
The man left, leaving Carlos with his mouth hanging open. ‘Bullshit’ he muttered between teeth, and wasting no time he approached Silvia, who was busy with her phone.
“Silvia, what is this that I can’t hang out with my friends? What is going on?” He asked, indignation obvious in his tone.
“Carlos, it’s not my decision, I can’t do anything about it. We’ve been asked to tell you, and it’s our work to make it happen, I’m sorry.”
It was obvious that the woman wasn’t lying and she didn’t care about who Carlos' friends were, there was a tint of an apology in her eyes. She had even mentioned in the past that she liked Lando and Carlos’ friendship, their interactions often making her smile. But in a demanding position like hers in Ferrari, she had to obey orders in silence, and be as efficient as she could.
Carlos sighed frustrated, feeling like a fly crashing against a clean window over and over again, and he decided to text Ian a polite excuse and his apologies. He felt embarrassed of being the one breaking their plans, and he couldn’t even bring himself to text Lando or Zak, he could lie to a stranger, but they were his friends and he couldn’t do it. Carlos felt it was a cowardly move, but he was hoping they would understand.
***
The rest of the weekend was progressing as usual. Session, debrief, interview, and repeat. He noticed how Silvia seemed more aware of their surroundings in the media pen than usual, rushing him to the next journalist without losing any time. At some point he even saw her staring at something happening behind his back, he made a wild guess of who the receiver of such a glare would be, and a familiar high-pitched laugh was all the confirmation he needed. This was going to be a long weekend.
He was giving his usual interview to the Spanish TV before the drivers parade on Sunday and Silvia looked unusually relaxed, as she wasn’t in a hurry anymore. Carlos kept on answering to the journalist as he discreetly looked around. Most drivers were already heading to the truck, and he wasn’t going to have time to hang around before the parade with any of them. Silvia was cleverly making him run late. Carlos finished the interview and rushed to the truck and when he got there he saw how crowded the place was, finding an empty spot in a corner, next to the other Spanish-speaking drivers. He turned around before the truck parted and the woman in red half-smiled at him, knowing she had succeeded in her mission.
The drivers parade was one of Carlos’ favourite moments of the weekend. To be able to relax a bit before the race and joke with some of his friends took a bit of pressure off his shoulders. He wasn’t engaging too much in the conversation going on so he turned to wave at the cheerful fans, he could even spot a few Spanish flags on the stands and he felt proud of being able to represent his country worldwide. His eye caught one of the giant screens and Lando was starting his interview, he could hardly hear him over the cheers of the crowd, he was surely one of the most loved drivers and Carlos could completely understand why. His friend wasn’t only very good on the track, but completely likeable off track too. He was funny without trying, he was honest in his answers, and he seemed more approachable for normal people than most of them. Before he noticed he was smiling, staring at the screens and he had enough of a mind to come back down to Earth and try to involve himself in the Spanish conversation, earning a knowing look from Fernando, who had noticed too.
A few seconds after Lando’s voice had faded out from the circuit’s loudspeakers Carlos could notice his small frame finding the way to the end of the truck, slaloming through the rest of the drivers, looking briefly at Carlos and placing himself next to him. He kept quiet, sipping from his water bottle and waving at the fans. A minute or two passed since the Spanish-speaking conversation ended and he stood there, in silence next to Lando, he wanted to apologize for cancelling their very exciting plans but he didn’t know how to break the ice, he hadn’t even texted Lando for the last couple of days and he felt awkwardly guilty.
“Ok, what have I done?” The British accent interrupted the silence, startling Carlos who turned to the side to look at his friend. His eyes, darker than usual, were painted with worry. If Carlos liked one thing about being taller than Lando was that his friend had to raise his head a bit to talk to him, and that way the visor of his cap couldn’t hide his sincere eyes. Because Lando’s eyes always gave everything away, and Carlos had two years of practice reading them.
“Nothing, don’t worry, all is fine!” Carlos answered in a not very believable tone. He felt a bit broken inside, he had worried Lando and his friend, of course, was blaming himself. That was so Lando, and Carlos should have predicted it.
“I got to the golf course and you weren’t there, and it was Ian the one who knew the most about you… That’s so weird.” Lando pointed out, sitting up the rail of the truck to wave better. Carlos' heart skipped a bit when he thought he was falling over and positioned his body better to keep chatting to his friend. He knew the camera was hardly getting any angles from them, but he decided to use his back as a shield to keep their conversation even more private.
“I’m sorry, you’re right, I should have texted you too. But I was in some stupid event and I didn’t have any time to text you all, so I decided to excuse myself with Ian first because he doesn’t know me. I thought you and Zak would understand.” He felt terrible, he was lying to one of his best friends because he didn’t have the guts to admit out loud he was just obeying Ferrari’s absurd orders like a puppet.
“It’s ok, I understand it. Maybe next time!” Lando replied smiling, and if Carlos wasn’t an expert of reading those eyes he would have bought it, but it was an empty smile that wasn’t reaching his eyes. A sad, disenchanted smile of someone who was let down but would never mention it. Lando wasn’t the kind of person that holds things against people, he swallows the disappointment and moves on.
Carlos didn’t know very well how to continue the conversation so he was very grateful when George joined their chat, they changed the subject and continued as if nothing had happened. Lando’s eyes smiled again and everything felt right for a moment.
***
A frustrating race to end a frustrating weekend. Carlos took off his helmet and balaclava exhaling sharply, drying his forehead with a towel and accepting a water bottle from Rupert. He spotted someone in Mclaren’s blue overalls approaching him and he smiled, but sadly for him it was Daniel. No offense, he liked Daniel, but he wasn’t the person he wanted to talk to.
Later in the media pen he spotted Lando in the distance, serious face and dull eyes. His race had been as frustrating as Carlos’ or even more, Carlos wanted to talk to him, to make him feel more understood, but it was impossible. He left the place as quickly as he could and Carlos sighed, finding some comfort in Silvia’s soft eyes. The woman noticed what had just happened and offered a warm smile to Carlos, who helped him to feel a tiny bit better.
He reached his driver room and changed clothes quickly, as if that was going to finish the weekend faster. Then he checked his phone and found some unread messages from family members and friends, and funnily enough, one from Silvia:
‘I’ve talked to the owners of the golf course we were at on Wednesday, they agreed to open this evening the course for a private session. Let me emphasize PRIVATE. I arrange, you pay. See you tomorrow on the plane.’
Carlos smiled at the unexpected message, reminding himself to buy a beautiful gift for the woman. His body felt shattered from all the weekend’s action, but he knew eighteen holes with his friend could heal his body quicker than twelve hours of sleep. He wasted no time in texting Lando the location with a brief ‘Bring your clubs’ and a time. All he needed was for Lando to read the message on time, and to feel in the mood to forgive Carlos.
He drove to the course nervous, thinking that maybe Lando just wanted to go home. At that point he noticed he didn’t even know if Lando was flying right after the race or on Monday, that’s how little they had talked during the week. Lando had read the message but he hadn’t replied, so that didn’t help him much to know what his friend had decided.
When he got there he went to greet the owner, thanking him for the extra hours. As soon as he paid the bill he understood why they were so happily doing that, but it was worth it, if Lando popped up, of course. Carlos waited patiently in the empty car park, leaning against the side of his rental car, and checking his watch every two minutes. It was fifteen minutes later that he spotted a car approaching him, on the wheel a very smiley Brit. He sighed relieved, Lando wasn’t mad at him.
“You’re fifteen minutes late!” Carlos joked when Lando was taking his clubs out of the trunk, greeting him.
“You’re four days late, mate.” He answered, locking the car, flashing a cheeky grin that was all Carlos needed to see in that specific moment.
“Fair enough, but this time is only going to be the two of us. Don’t tell me it isn't a much better plan?” Carlos spotted a subtle blush on Lando’s cheeks and that’s all the answer he needed.
The course was completely empty, only their laughs filling the air. The artificial lights made the greens glow but the paths between holes were a bit darker. Carlos missed a very easy shot with the drive and his ball ended up between some trees, in the darkness. Lando raised an eyebrow at that poor attempt by someone who has been playing golf forever and Carlos blamed it on being tired after the race.
The ball was difficult to find but Carlos couldn’t care less because as soon as they reached the darkest zone, he embraced Lando, taking him by surprise. It wasn’t late when he was melting in Carlos arms, abandoning himself to the feeling.
“I miss you.” Carlos whispered in the crook of Lando’s neck, the younger man replied by digging his fingertips in his shoulder blades pressing him closer. Carlos took that as a ‘me too’ and rubbed his palms soothingly on Lando’s back, slowly and carefully, making the moment last a million years.
A moment so delicately perfect and simple at the same time, so them , that made all the frustrations disappear in the blink of an eye. The nice heat Lando’s body radiated embraced him warmly, creating a bubble he didn’t want to break. It felt unique and cozy, and most importantly, private, and fortunately for them, they were good at privacy.