Work Text:
“I’m sorry.” Lando says, as soon as they’re alone.
“It’s not your fault.” Carlos mutters, running a hand through his hair, “This whole situation is fucked.”
Lando lets out a laugh that’s more like a sigh, and chews on his fingernail. He watches as Carlos paces across the meeting room, parallel to the long table.
“They can not do this,” Carlos says.
“They can, and apparently, they will.”
“But-“ Carlos cuts himself off, pausing his movement. His mouth still hangs open, as if he’s searching for words that aren’t coming to him. “We are friends, you and I,” He starts up again, “They cannot just ban us from being seen together.”
”There’s a clause, in my contract. They can ban me from doing things that may taint my reputation.” Lando says, putting air quotes once last part, “I’m guessing you have something similar. Knowing Ferrari, your clause probably more concrete. And longer.”
”The fans love us! They love our friendship, they love us together! How is us seen together ruining of our reputation?” Carlos rambles, retuning to running his hands through his hair and pacing.
Words swirl through Lando’s head, vaguely saying things like “were we just even in the same meeting?”. Lando knows Carlos is just asking a rhetorical question, but still feels the need to answer it.
“Mate,” he starts, carefully selecting his words, “people think we fuck.”
Carlos freezes again, his back to Lando this time. He’s tense, and Lando cringes at the awkwardness in the air. It’s true, though. A bit less sugar coated than their respective PR teams put it, but the message gets across nonetheless.
“Yes, but we are not fucking.” Carlos says suddenly, spinning around to face Lando. He’s blushing. Lando can’t really talk, however, as he’s been a mess of flushed skin for the entire meeting.
”Doesn’t matter, in their eyes. Rumors like this are as good as true.”
”But the fans also think many others are fucking? Have you seen the things online? People think me and max fuck. People think you and max fuck! People think Max fucks everyone. I do not see Max getting banned from being seen with everyone.”
“I think that’s different.”
“How?”
Lando starts, but the words leave him. He tries again, “I think you fucking me is more likely than max fucking you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know!” Lando snaps, “I don’t know.”
Carlos resumes his pacing once more, and Lando is hit with guilt.
“Sorry.” He says again.
“Stop apologizing.” Carlos says, “I just don’t understand. I have a girlfriend.”
“That’s never stopped fans before.” Lando mutters. Carlos sends him a puzzled look, so Lando explains further, “They could just say it’s PR.” Carlos is still confused, “It’s happened before, okay? I’m just trying to help you understand.”
Carlos shrugs, “But you also have a girlfriend.”
Lando cringes, “Yeah. Um, about that-“
“Did you break up? Lando, you should have told me!” Carlos is suddenly pulling lando up and out of his chair, and into a tight hug. Lando’s arms hang limp by his side for a moment, before he awkwardly pats Carlos on the back.
“Thanks, mate,” Lando croaks out from the smothering hug, “We didn’t break up, though.”
“Oh,” Carlos says, releasing Lando from the hug. His hands still stay firmly planted on either of Lando’s shoulders. “What happened, then?”
“We’re PR.”
“What?” Carlos exclaims, “How? You two seems so… perfect?”
“She’s a good friend,” Lando explains.
“Why do you need a PR relationship?”
Lando can’t tell Carlos the truth. Lando won’t tell Carlos the truth, because that would open a whole new can of worms, which he’d have to explain to Carlos (he’d also have to explain that metaphor to Carlos, which would end in Carlos scoffing and ranting about how dumb English metaphors are). He can’t explain it to Carlos, because then he’d know , and that’s what Lando has been avoiding for years.
“Just something Charlotte suggested.” Lando lied, because it was the first thing he thought of. Carlos was obviously skeptical, sending an eyebrow up.
“Why did you not tell me?” Carlos asked, his face going soft.
Fuck. Lando thought, he’s upset.
See, the problem with Carlos being upset is he gets this kicked puppy look, with his big eyes, fluttering eyelids, and ever so pouting bottom lip. It’s horribly distracting.
“Come on, cabrón, even Charles told me when he had PR.”
Ah, Charles. Although he would never admit this (even though people have probably already figured it out), lando was somewhat jealous of Charles. It wasn’t even for a good reason. It wasn’t for his car, or his driving, or his team, or his success, or even his girlfriend. He was plagued by jealousy because Charles was Carlos’ teammate. It was stupid, honestly, because of course Carlos wouldn’t be teammates with Lando forever. Lando thought he would have more time with the other, that’s all.It’s safe to say Carlos’ team status is a touchy subject with Lando, and that goes with Charles too.
“Why did you lie to me?” Carlos prodded.
“It was a team matter.” Lando spat, “So none of your business, yeah?”
Carlos’ hands dropped from Lando’s shoulders, “Did Oscar know, then?”
No, Lando wanted to say, no one knows, just me and her and now you.
“Yes.” He lied.
“Fine.” Carlos huffed, “Maybe this not being friends will be easy.” With that, Carlos stormed out of the room, letting the door slam behind him.
-
Lando didn’t really know what to do with himself after that. He knew he was being harsh with Carlos, but like he had said, the whole situation was fucked.
Lando retreated to his motorhome, content to mess around on his phone as a sad attempt to distract himself, when he got a text.
Charles Ferrari:
Mate what was that meeting about?
Now this was interesting. While Lando and Charles had gotten close over the months of the lockdown, they rarely texted these days.
Lando ☕️☕️ :
wtf are you talking abt
Charles Ferrari:
The meeting??
That you and Carlos were just in?????
He came storming out all angry
He won’t come out of his drivers room
Can you pls come over and calm him down or smth
Lando ☕️☕️ :
why are you asking me?
Charles Ferrari:
Bc you and him are best friends?
And I’m guessing you know why he’s angry?
Lando ☕️☕️ :
fuck off
Charles Ferrari:
Wtf mate
Did you fight with him?
Lando
Lando pls
Lando groaned and threw his phone on the ground (onto a rug, because this phone was only a few months old). Fuck Carlos and his stupid tantrum.
-
Four weeks later
@jamielover | matty [they/them]
has anyone else noticed the drought of carlando content we’ve been in
|
|
@bitcho_clock | MURIEL IS THE LOML
Replying to @jamielover no fr what happened to those two
-
@buckbucks | neil IM IN UR WALLS
DID ANYONE ELSE SEE LANDO LITERALLY SEE CARLOS AND RUN AWAY AT SILVERSTONE TODAY
|
|
@taylorsversion | TAYLOR 🫶
Replying to @buckbucks YES 😭 NOT EVEN IN A FUNNY CUTE BF WAY IN A “bro i hate this dude we gotta get out of here” WAY
|
|
@sheisbeauty | we are world class
replying to @taylorsversion IM SENSING BROCEDES 2.0 AND I DONT LIKE IT
|
|
@buckbucks | neil IM IN UR WALLS
Replying to @sheisbeauty WHY WOULD U SAY THATTTTTTTTTTT
-
@c2_lover | CARLANDO TRUTHER
yall im actually DEVESTATED i think carlando actually hates eachother now
|
|
@c2_lover | CARLANDO TRUTHER
Replying to @c2_lover i fully thought they were genuinely in love im not kidding
|
|
@peeiregaslyyy | KI KI AYE
Replying to @c2_lover yet another queerbait conspiracy we buy into 😔
|
|
@c2_lover | CARLANDO TRUTHER
Replying to @peeriegaslyyy first larry now this smh
|
|
@peeiregaslyyy | KI KI AYE
Replying to @c2_lover WILL WE EVER LEARN? WEVE BEEN HERE BEFORREEE
|
|
@c2_lover | CARLANDO TRUTHER
Replying to @peeriegaslyyy ITS JUST WHAT WE KNOWWWWWWW
-
The thing about dropping your best friend and not talking to them for months, basically pretending they don’t exist, is that it’s extremely difficult. You have to toe the line between trying to impress them, showing off of how good you’re doing without them, while not looking desperate. You have to seem like you don’t care, you just happen to post photos of you and all your friends hanging out, or just seem to always be laughing whenever they pass by.
Carlos had never experienced a friend break up before, and it didn’t help that it was his best friend he has to suddenly pretend to not know. If him and Lando were a bit more mature, they probably could still be friends, just more secretly, but honestly Carlos was fed up with Lando’s jealousy. One day, Lando would have to accept that Carlos couldn’t pass up the opportunity to drive for Ferrari. Until then, it was Lando being the stubborn one, not Carlos.
Another thing that was difficult about not talking to Lando is that there was no one to talk to about the lack of communication between him and Lando. While people like Charles pushed for an answer as to why they couldn’t go to the same restaurant that lando was at, or why Carlos blocked Lando on Twitter, Carlos couldn’t explain. Explaining meant talking about the meeting (which he was trying very had to forget), and talking about what followed the meeting. And while yes, Carlos was hurt that Lando didn’t tell him his relationship was fake, it wasn’t his place to tell anyone else. So Carlos did his best to avoid any Lando-related questions, from the media and from his fellow drivers.
All throughout this navigating this new environment, Carlos was still unbelievably pissed at Lando for many things, all jumbling up in his mind to the point that he could barely remember why he was so angry in the first place. When Carlos gets thing kind of angry, he needs distractions. Which is exactly why he’s in a crowded club on a Wednesday night. He doesn’t have a race that weekend, he’s not completely insane, but he should still be in bed. For some reason, though, the flashing lights and the sweetly, uncomfortable people around him seem to calm his nerves. That, or the constant supply of alcohol.
He’s three drinks (and two shots) in when Charles catches up to him
“Mate, where did you go?” Charles yells over the loud beat of whatever shitty music is playing.
Carlos gestures vaguely around him, “Here?”
“What is going on?” Charles asks. Carlos is buzzed enough that he can only barely hear the edge of concern In Charles’ voice.
“¿De qué hablas? ” Carlos shook his head, trying to clear it. The vodka was making him forget his English. He finally settles on, “What?”
“You are acting all,” Charles waves his hands around in a jumble, “weird! Is this about Lando?”
“No!” Carlos says, too quickly, which earns him a look from Charles, “Why is everything have to be about Lando? Can I not have a drink?”
Charles reaches for the half empty glass in Carlos’ hand, and Carlos pulls it away, exclaiming “aye! This is mine!” He takes a sip, “Get your own.”
“You have had enough. I am taking you home .”
“You are taking me to Spain?”
“Non, crétin , to the hotel. Come on,” Charles pulls on Carlos’ arm, “let’s go.”
-
After promising Charles he’d go right to bed, Carlos was left alone in his hotel room. It was the same as all of the hotels he’d been at in the past nine years, all generic decor and weird patterned carpets, but this one did have a rather nice mini bar. Carlos, who didn’t drink much during the racing season which making him a horrible lightweight, didn’t make the best decisions while drunk. He was drunk, angry, and alone (mostly angry), and he decided calling Lando was a great decision.
Lando picked up on the second ring.
“ Hello ?” He answered.
“Lando.” Carlos breathed, “I am sorry.”
Lando was silent.
“You were right. It was a team matter. I’m sorry for getting all…” the alcohol was catching up to him all of a sudden, “ Enfadado.”
“ What ?”
“Mad.”
“ Oh, ” Lando paused for what felt like forever, but Carlos could hear his breathing. “ Are you drunk? ”
“Pffff, me? ¿Borracho? ¡No! ”
“ You’re switching into Spanish again.”
“Fuck.”
To Carlos’ relief, Lando laughed, “ What room are you in? ”
“616.”
“Can I come over? ” He asked.
“ Cabrón, that is what I meant when I told you the room number.”
Lando laughed again, and something in Carlos’ chest jumped. He blamed it on the shots.
“ Okay, mate, see you in a few .”
-
The next day, Carlos woke up with a killer hangover and a British man passed out on his hotel room’s couch. He doesn’t remember much after the phone call, but judging by the Uno cards thrown around the room, they weren’t in their petty feud anymore.
_
While trying to keep their PR teams happy while also being happy themselves, proved to be a bit of a challenge, Lando and Carlos didn’t mind all that much. Carlos was still angry about the whole situation, but Lando was just happy to have his friend back. Honestly, the whole grid was happy that Carlos and Lando were friends again, as none of them knew how to navigate their strange tensions.
One day, unfortunately, durning summer break Lando and Carlos were spotted out at dinner in Spain, and Twitter lost their shit. The two of them had somewhat avoided most of the Carlando rumors, everything changed after this scandal. The photographic evidence was pretty damming, to be fair, they were at a somewhat fancy restaurant with flowers and candles and they both were dressed up rather nice. The photo shows their whole bodies, and because of the lack of long table cloth, you can see them seemingly playing fucking footsie.
Of course, they weren’t actually on a date, because that’s insane. Carlos had dragged Lando out to the nice restaurant as a “test subject” (Carlos’ exact words) for a date night with Isa. The real reason Carlos was kicking Lando’s shoes was because it was pouring outside, and Lando had been very careful to not get his (new) shoes wet, while Carlos had jumped in puddles like a five year old. Carlos was trying to wipe off some of the dirt on his soles onto Lando as a retaliation for Lando stealing the last of the bread. Totally normal best bro behavior.
But the fans, the media, and their PR teams don’t care what really was going on, they only cared about what it looked like. What it looked like was a very, very romantic evening with playful flirting and Lando giving Carlos the biggest fucking heart eyes ever caught on camera.
The real reason behind those heart eyes was- well- that’s besides the point.
They were back at Carlos’ apartment, playing fifa, when Charlotte called Lando yelling about contract clauses and does he know how much he fucked up? Lando could practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. When Lando stepped back into the light room, Carlos was on the phone, pacing, muttering words of spanish. He sent Lando a look, and slid out to the back patio.
-
“We are fucked.” Carlos says, as he steps back inside.
Lando doesn’t respond, he just flops face first into the couch.
“I have to go to Isa’s.” Carlos continues, grabbing his jacket off of the back of the sofa.
“Why?” Lando asks, face still smashed in the cushions.
“The entire world thinks I am cheating on my girlfriend with my ex-teammate.”
“Oh. Right.” Lando sat up, “Sorry.”
Carlos shrugged on his jacket, “It is not your fault. I dragged you out to dinner.”
Lando tried to say something, but Carlos left before he got the chance.
Left in a house that wasn’t his, in a town he didn’t really know, while also knee deep in a horrible scandal, Lando was at a loss for what to do. He had chucked his phone into the depths of his backpack as soon as he got off the phone with Charlotte, vowing to not look at it until morning. He flicked through some of the streaming services Carlos had on his tv, but Lando was too distracted to pay attention to anything. Eventually, Lando landed on pacing around Carlos’s house (dodging windows in case paparazzi was out there), and chewing on his index finger’s cuticle. It was a nervous tick that Lando could never seem to shake. Carlos used to swat Lando’s hand away from his mouth when he did that, or give Lando a little plaster when he eventually made himself bleed. This, along with other things, is what Lando misses most out of Carlos not being his teammate. Don’t get him wrong, Oscar is great. He’s having a rough season, but he’s a funny, likable guy, that Lando doesn’t have trouble getting along with. But he’s not Carlos. Which is what most of Lando’s complaints about McLaren boil down to. Carlos isn’t there, and it’s the first time Carlos hasn’t been there in Lando’s Formula One career, and Lando fucking hates it. He misses doing stupid interviews and challenges for the McLaren YouTube channel, he misses the late night talks in various hotel rooms they used to have, but most of all he simply misses Carlos. Forever a pillar of comfort for Lando, someone who just got him in a way no one else has.
Lando feels himself reliving the most horrible moment of revelation, so he bites down harder. A coppery taste fills his mouth, but Lando ignore it.
-
An hour later, Carlos returns.
Lando is back on the couch, sitting rather rigidly.
“Stop that.” Carlos says, leaning over the back of the couch to pull Lando’s hand away from his mouth. “Aye, cabron , you’re bleeding.”
Lando pulls his hand back from Carlos, “Sorry.”
“You have been saying that too much,” Carlos announced, leaving the room. Lando can hear him rummaging through cabinets, probably looking for a plaster.
“What did Isa say?” Lando asks, changing the subject.
The rummaging pauses, but Carlos stays silent.
“Carlos?” Lando calls out after a few moments of silence. “What happened?”
Carlos came back into the room then, a bit rushed, with his head hanging low. Lando can’t see the expression of his face, but he sees a plaster in his hand. Carlos grabs Lando’s wrist, pulling apart the packaging.
“I could only find niños ones, so you are getting a curita con cupcakes ,” Carlos says, quietly. He gently holds up Lando’s left hand, carefully wrapping the plaster with the cupcake design around his finger.
“There,” Carlos nearly whispers, placing Lando’s hand back in his lap. Suddenly, Lando is very aware of how close they are sitting, of how his knee is pressed against Carlos’ thigh, how if Lando moved his right arm just slightly over, their elbows would be brushing.
“Carlos, what did Isa say?” Lando pushes.
“She uh-“ Carlos takes a sharp inhale of hair, “we- broke up.”
Lando is so greatful that Carlos is still staring at the floor, because his jaw just literally dropped.
“Oh my god, Carlos, I am so, so sorry,” Lando apologizes, planting his uninjured hand on Carlos’ shoulder.
“No apologies, you have nothing to do with it!” Carlos snaps, standing up abruptly. Lando hand hovers where Carlos’ shoulder once was.
“She broke up with you because of this, yeah? The scandal?”
Carlos tensed up.
“Well then, yes, I am at fault here. This whole fucking thing is my fault.”
Carlos turned to face lando, “What are you talking about?”
“The whole,” Lando waves his hands around, “people think we fuck so we can’t be seen together thing! It’s all my fault.”
“Wait, is this some kind of prank or-“
“What! No, no. I-“ Lando freezes. He can’t believe he’s actually going to do this, “I’m in love with you. And everyone can tell. That’s why the fans think we’re in love. They think I give you heart eyes, because I do. I’m so, so, fucking sorry Carlos.”
It’s in this moment Lando wishes Carlos was staring at the floor again. He also wishes time travel was real, so he could go back and stop his entire existence from happening. But instead, He’s sitting on Carlos’s couch, with Carlos standing over him, eyes unbelievably wide. His face is blank in total shock. Lando lets his hand fall to the couch.
“Right. I’m gonna go now.”
“Mierda santa, me amas .” Carlos says.
“What? You know I don’t speak Spanish-“
Lando cuts himself off when Carlos grabs a fistful of his hoodie and hauls him to his feet. For a moment, Lando is worried Carlos is about to punch the shit out of him, but instead he doesn’t the complete opposite.
Carlos fucking kisses Lando.
It’s all so much at once, Carlos’ hands in his air, the press of Carlos’ lips against his, sending a shiver down Lando’s spine. But, as soon as it began, Carlos pulls away.
He stares into Lando’s eyes for a moment, before pulling him into another one of his strange long hugs.
“Te amo. Isa y yo rompimos porque te amo. ”
“Wait-“ Lando says (to the best of his ability, because he is being a little bit smothered), “te amo ? That’s I love you , right?”
Carlos doesn’t respond, instead he just kisses Lando again.