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Charles woke up with a wide grin plastered to his face. Today was Carlos’s and his fourth anniversary. He changed into some comfortable clothes, well the clothes were not his, they were Carlos’, and even though they were practically the same height, with how broad Carlos’ shoulders are, his clothes always fit baggy on Charles’ body and he absolutely loved it.
The red lights of the digital clock read 12.30 when he was finally able to roll out of bed. He loved having Carlos’ warmth beside him when he woke up but waking up in a king-sized bed all to himself was like a dream. Carlos had left early in the morning for the shooting of GQ magazine promising to be back before their romantic dinner date at 20.00.
The morning spent with laziness was calming Charles's mind down a bit. He made himself one of his signature coffees, the kind Carlos teasingly referred to as a "milkshake" because of the mountain of sugar and milk swirling in the cup. Carlos’ coffee preferences were the polar opposite: dark and strong, black as asphalt.
As the sweet taste hit his tongue, Charles smiled, already imagining Carlos’ exaggerated grimace at the sight of the drink. After the coffee, he hung out a bit in the house playing piano and playing with Leo before going out to get the ring he had custom-ordered it. He was buzzing with excitement, today is the day he will propose to his lover. He was dreaming of this day.
By the time evening rolled around, Charles was a bundle of nerves, pacing the apartment in an attempt to keep calm. He took a cold shower, letting the icy water shock some of the jitters away, before slipping into a sleek black tuxedo. As he fastened the final button, he caught his reflection in the mirror and murmured softly, “You’ve got this," and drove to the tower restaurant.
Carlos messaged him that he would meet Charles at the restaurant. Everything was perfect, he closed off the whole restaurant just for them, and dimmed the lighting, the candles making it more romantic. The staff took his coat and hung it on the rack back at the reception. He walked up to the romantic table and sat down, the dark blue velvet box weighing tonnes in his pocket.
He took out his phone and sent a quick message.
Charles: Love, where are you? I’ve arrived, waiting for you mon cœur <3 20:16
To steady his nerves, he ordered a glass of their favorite Shiraz. The first glass helped a little, but the second glass quickly followed as his hands began to tremble. His mother’s voice echoed faintly in his head, scolding him for drinking too fast, but he brushed it aside. By the time he poured a third, worry had fully taken root.
Charles: Amour, is everything okay? 20:27
The minutes dragged on, each one heavier than the last. He called Carlos’ phone, each time no answer. Panic clawed at his chest as the unthinkable began to take shape in his mind.
Where was Carlos? Was he stuck in traffic? Had something gone wrong at the shoot? The box in his pocket felt impossibly heavy now. He downed the last of his wine, the warm buzz doing little to quiet the racing storm in his head.
"Please, Carlos," he whispered to himself, staring at the empty seat across from him. He didn’t even know what he was begging for anymore, for Carlos to walk through the door with that sheepish grin he adored, for this gnawing dread in his chest to subside, or for the night to simply rewind so none of this was happening.
An hour crawled by until Charles decided he couldn’t bear it any longer. He pushed back his chair, the scraping sound echoing in the empty restaurant, but as he tried to stand, the room tilted beneath him. His legs buckled, and he slumped back into the chair, clutching the edge of the table as if it could anchor him.
Shit. He should’ve stopped at the second glass of wine. Now here he was, wine-drunk and pathetic, spiraling between heartbreak and desperation. Forcing himself upright, he stumbled to the front desk, grabbing his coat and car key with trembling hands. Not that he’d be using his car tonight -he wasn’t stupid.
The bright lights of Monaco were blinding as he staggered out onto the street. The world blurred, the golden glow of the city melting into streaks of white and red as tears filled his eyes. They streamed hot, carving a path down his cheeks, the saltiness stinging the corner of his lips. Each step he took made his head pound harder.
He couldn’t go back to their flat. It was too far, and the thought of stumbling drunkenly through the streets, his suit wrinkled and his face swollen with tears, was unbearable. By morning, the tabloids would plaster his humiliation across every magazine and website. He could already imagine the headlines.
He wandered aimlessly, his thoughts a storm of worry and anger. Where are you, Carlos? What happened? Was he okay? But beneath the fear, a quieter, more painful truth simmered. Why didn’t he come? Did Charles mean so little to him tonight?
A crazy idea struck him, one that his muddled brain: Seb and Kimi lived nearby. Maybe he could crash at their place. He didn’t want to go home -not tonight, not when Carlos might be there in the morning, his absence explained with some excuse that would still leave Charles feeling hollow.
The streets twisted around him until he finally reached Sebastian’s door, his chest tight as he rang the bell. When the door opened, Seb stood there, confusion etched across his face.
“Charles?” Seb’s voice was sharp with concern as his eyes scanned him, taking in the rumpled tuxedo, tear-streaked face, and unsteady stance. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
But Charles couldn’t find the words. His lips trembled, and with a broken sob, he threw himself into Sebastian’s arms. The tears came harder now, his entire body shaking as he clung to Seb’s shirt like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
“I-he-” Charles tried, but the words dissolved into hiccupped cries. “I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what happened.”
Seb’s arms came around him, as he guided him inside. “It’s okay,” Seb murmured softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Charles’ back, he did not know what happened but for now the first goal is to calm Charles down. “You’re safe now, Charles. Just breathe, okay? We’ll figure it out.”
But Charles wasn’t sure he could. The weight of the velvet box was still in his pocket. And Carlos’ absence was a knife twisting deeper with every passing second.
He didn’t know whether to be furious, terrified, or utterly shattered. So he let the tears fall, burying his face against Seb’s shoulder as his heart splintered quietly, piece by jagged piece. His chest heaved with the weight of emotions he couldn’t name, couldn’t hold back any longer.
Out of the blue, Kimi emerged from the kitchen, a glass of ice-cold water in his hand. Without a word, he gently steered the two men toward the sofa, guiding Charles to sit between them. The placement wasn’t random.
Kimi and Seb shared a silent understanding, the kind forged through shared years. Maybe it was that bond, or maybe it was the way Charles had always gravitated toward them, seeking something neither man could fully define, a warmth, a stability, a sense of being cared for. Whether it was out of instinct or something deeper, they had both taken on roles they never expected: protectors, maybe even father figures after his dad passed away, for the boy whose heart was now breaking before their eyes.
As Charles’ sobs finally began to ebb, Kimi spoke, his voice low but steady. “Can you tell us what happened, kid? What has got you this upset?”
Charles’ eyes filled with fresh tears at the question, a warm flood he could barely hold back. He gripped the glass of water Kimi had handed him, gulping it down in shaky sips as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality. His voice cracked when he finally spoke.
“It was… it was our fourth anniversary,” he began, his words trembling, barely audible. “And I- , I planned, I hoped- no, no- I planned to propose to Carlos.” His breath hitched, and his hand moved shakily to his pocket, pulling out a small navy blue box. He opened it with trembling fingers, revealing a simple but elegant ring that glinted in the soft light of the room just a golden band nothing too lavish to keep it undercover.
“But he didn’t show up.” His voice broke on the last word, and his hand clenched around the box like it was the only thing keeping him together. “He promised, Seb. He promised he’d be there. I don’t know why he didn’t come… I don’t even know if he’s okay.”
Sebastian inhaled sharply, the sound loud in the silence that followed. His heart ached at the sight of the ring, the weight of Charles’ words settling like lead in his chest. He shot a glance at Kimi, whose face remained unreadable, but his silence spoke volumes.
Charles’ breathing grew ragged again, panic creeping into his voice. “What if something happened to him? What if- what if he’s hurt somewhere, and I’m sitting here…”
“Shh, Schatz,” Sebastian interrupted gently, his hand rubbing slow circles on Charles’ back. “You’re exhausted. You’ve had a terrible night. What do you say to a warm bath, hmm? It’ll help. We’ll be right here when you’re done. You must be so tired.”
Charles blinked up at him, his lashes heavy with tears, and slurred, “God, Sebbie… thank you. How can I ever repay you for this?”
Seb just smiled soft, and helped Charles to the bathroom. He handed him the fluffiest towels he could find, as the sound of the shower began to drown out the silence.
Then Seb returned to the kitchen, Kimi was setting the table, his expression as calm as ever, though his eyes betrayed something sharper.
“Kimi,” Seb said in a low, urgent voice, shoving his phone toward him. “Look at this.”
Kimi frowned, holding the phone closer to his face. “Kulta, calm down,” he muttered. “Just give me the phone so I can actually see.”
Sebastian let go, crossing his arms tightly across his chest as Kimi’s gaze fell on the screen. It was a story -Lando’s, to be exact. The grainy video showed a wild club, the bass of the music so loud it seemed to pulse through the screen. Lando, Oscar, Daniel, Max- they were all there, laughing, drinking, dancing like the world outside didn’t exist. And then there was Carlos.
Kimi’s expression faltered. Carlos was there, his face flushed, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, swaying to the beat of some terrible, deafening music. He looked utterly wasted, his movements loose and carefree in a way that made Seb’s stomach churn.
“This was two hours ago, Kimi,” Seb said, his voice low but trembling with restrained fury. “Two hours! While Charles was sitting there, terrified, thinking something awful had happened, Carlos was -he was out partying. Laughing. Dancing.” His voice broke, his hands clenching into fists. “How could he do this to Charles? How could he-”
Kimi stayed silent for a long moment, his eyes still on the screen. Finally, he handed the phone back, his face hardening.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly.
“This is unforgivable. Someone has to smack some sense into that thick skull of his. He has no idea what he’s done to Charles tonight.”
Kimi didn’t respond right away, but his gaze flickered toward the bathroom door, where the sound of running water filled the quiet tension between them.
“We’ll deal with it,” Kimi said finally, his voice like steel. “But not tonight. Right now, we take care of him. We can’t say anything to him right now the poor thing would break”
Seb nodded, swallowing hard. He was raging, but he knew Kimi was right. Charles came first.
The dinner table was heavy with silence, a suffocating stillness that felt louder than any words could have been. Charles sat hunched over, wearing an old, oversized shirt of Seb’s that dwarfed his small frame and a baggy short of Kimi. His fork scraped absently at the plate in front of him, pushing food around without ever taking a bite. He didn’t look up, didn’t speak.
Sebastian and Kimi exchanged glances across the table but didn’t dare break the quiet. Not when Charles had finally stopped crying, his sobs no longer rattling his frail body. No hyperventilating. No gasping for air. That was progress, wasn’t it?
When the doorbell rang, it echoed sharply through the stillness. Kimi stood wordlessly, his chair scraping against the floor as he moved to answer it. He returned seconds later, his expression unreadable, though his lips pressed into a thin line betrayed something brewing beneath the surface.
“Who was it, Liebling?” Sebastian asked softly, his voice careful.
Kimi didn’t respond.
Before Sebastian could press further, the doorbell rang again, more insistent this time. Sebastian rose, his brows furrowing, and Charles, as if stirred from a trance, trailed behind him.
When Sebastian opened the door, the sight that greeted him was enough to set his teeth on edge.
Carlos stood on the doorway, swaying unsteadily, his hair disheveled and his clothes rumpled, and his hair a mess as though he’d run his hands through them in frustration too many times. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression wild with desperation.
“Sebastian, please,” Carlos croaked, his voice hoarse and raw. “Please, I know he’s here. I need to talk to him. Let me talk to him.” His words tumbled out, frantic and slurred, like a man clinging to the edge of a cliff.
Sebastian’s face hardened, and his body shifted to block the doorway entirely. “Slow down, Carlos,” he rumbled, his tone low and dangerous. “I don’t think this is the time or place for this. You should go home.”
Carlos faltered by Sebastian’s harsh voice. He looked over Sebastian’s shoulder, his gaze searching, frantic, until it landed on Charles.
Charles stood a few steps behind, his eyes swollen and red, the fragile mask of calm he’d tried so hard to hold onto threatening to crumble. He looked impossibly small in the oversized shirt, his arms wrapped tightly around himself as if trying to hold himself together.
“Mi amor,” Carlos whispered, his voice breaking on the word. He stumbled forward, but Sebastian’s hand shot out, gripping the doorframe and barring his path.
“Don’t,” Sebastian warned, his tone sharp enough to slice through the tension.
Carlos ignored him, his eyes fixed on Charles as if he could will him to listen. “Amor, oh amor,” he repeated, the words trembling with anguish. “I- I fucked it up so bad. Please, darling, please let’s talk. I’m begging you, just, just five minutes. Please.”
Charles’ breath hitched audibly, his fingers digging into the fabric of the shirt as he shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “No, Carlos.”
Carlos’ face crumpled, his composure unraveling at the seams. “Charles, please,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “I was stupid, so stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just-“
That’s enough,” Sebastian snapped his voice like a whip. “You’ve done enough tonight, Carlos. He doesn’t owe you anything- not now, not tonight. Go home.”
Carlos staggered back a step as if physically struck by the words. His gaze darted back to Charles, who stood frozen.
“Please,” Carlos whispered one last time, his voice breaking. “Amor…”
Behind Sebastian, Charles flinched as if the words were a blow. His arms tightened around himself, his lips trembling as he stared at Carlos through a veil of tears. He wanted to move, to step forward, but his feet felt rooted to the ground.
Sebastian turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze softening as he looked at Charles. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he murmured, his voice gentle, meant only for Charles. “But whatever you decide, I’ll be right here.”
Charles swallowed hard, his fingers trembling as they clutched at the fabric of the shirt hanging loosely around him. He took a shaky step forward, then another, his legs unsteady but his resolve growing with each faltering move.
“Carlos,” Charles said, his voice fragile and breaking. “explain,” he said not in a mad tone, he cannot be mad at Carlos he was just exhausted from all of the shitstorm going on.
Carlos' words spilled out in a frantic, slurred tumble, his Spanish accent thickening with each syllable as emotion overwhelmed him. “Mi sol, I- I didn’t mean to miss it. I was out of the shoot early, and I thought I’d make it in time. But just as I was about to leave, I saw Max and Daniel entering a club. They saw me, and, Dio, dragged me in, saying they were meeting Lando and Oscar at the bar. I didn’t even think, I just-”
He paused, running a trembling hand through his disheveled hair. His voice cracked, frantic, and guilt-ridden. “And before I knew it, I had shots, vodka, so much vodka. The music, the chaos, the atmosphere I couldn’t grasp the time, Charles. I swear, I didn’t realize how late it was until it was almost half past nine. The second I understood, I threw myself out of that damned club and ran to the restaurant. But when I got there…” His voice faltered, his breath hitching. “The butler said you’d left.”
Carlos’ shoulders heaved as he exhaled shakily, his bloodshot eyes locking onto Charles, who stood frozen, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. “I roamed all over Monaco looking for you. And then I thought… maybe you’d be here. And you are.”
Charles remained silent, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, his expression unreadable as his lips pressed into a trembling line.
“Carino,” Carlos whispered, stepping closer, his hand reaching out as if to touch him but faltering halfway. “I- I messed up. I know I did. But I swear on everything, I never meant to hurt you. Please… just tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this.”
Charles’ gaze darted to the floor, his fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as he fought to keep his composure. “Carlos,” he began softly, his voice barely audible, “you promised me.” His eyes lifted. “You promised you’d be there. It was supposed to be our night, and you… you forgot about me.”
“I didn’t forget you,” he said, his voice breaking. “I could never forget you. I just, I lost control. I let them pull me away, and I-”
“You let them pull you away?” Charles’ voice cracked, rising slightly as his emotions finally spilled over. “Carlos, I waited for you. I sat there, watching the minutes tick by, telling myself you’d walk through that door. And when you didn’t…” His voice wavered, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I felt like a fool.”
Carlos stepped closer, his heart in his throat, desperation etched into every line of his face. “You’re not a fool, Charles. You’re my everything, my life”
“Then why?” Charles snapped, his voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “Why wasn’t I enough to make you walk away from them? From the shots, the chaos, the noise? Why did you forget about me, our date, our anniversary?”
“I didn’t forget, Charles. Not for a second. I swear, mi sol. But…” He dragged in a shuddering breath, his eyes glistening. “But I’ve been… I’ve been feeling so lost lately.”
Charles’s brows furrowed in confusion, his tears pausing momentarily as Carlos continued.
“Everything’s been piling up, racing, the pressure from my fucked up future with that shitbox of Williams, the criticism from the media… It feels like I’m barely holding on some days like I am just barely over the surface. And tonight, when Max and Daniel pulled me in, I thought maybe, just for a moment I could shut it all out. That I could pretend I wasn’t drowning. I know this is not an excuse for that fucked up thing I have done, but…” His voice cracked, and he shook his head, guilt pouring from him like a broken dam. “Instead, I ended up hurting the one person I can’t live without.”
His voice broke completely as he whispered, “You were always enough. More than enough. I was the one who wasn’t. And I hate myself for it, Charles. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me. Please.”
Charles’s tears resumed, his anger giving way to the cracks in his own heart. He looked away, trying to gather his thoughts, as Carlos stood there, raw and exposed, waiting for forgiveness he wasn’t sure he deserved. And then Charles lunged forward to him pressing his lips against Carlos’. Carlos’ lips were cold against Charles’ tasting the salty tears cascading from both of them till they tasted them. It was not a passionate and filthy French kiss. The kiss was innocent, close-mouthed, like with that kiss they understood each other. Neither Kimi nor Seb was there, probably they retreated to the kitchen when things got heated up giving space for the couple.
Carlos’s hands lingered on Charles’s waist, their kiss having faded into a quiet stillness that hung in the air between them. His voice was soft, trembling with emotion as he whispered, “Mi sol, let me take you home.”
Charles stiffened, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. “I can’t, Carlos. Not tonight. Not when…” His voice cracked, and he turned his face away.
Carlos reached for him, his hand cupping Charles’s cheek gently, turning him back. “Please, Charles. I know I don’t deserve it, not after what I’ve done, but home isn’t home without you. The apartment feels empty and lifeless. You, we are the heart of it.”
Charles’s brows furrowed, his lips parting as if to argue, but Carlos didn’t let him. “You’re angry, and you should be. I hurt you. But let me show you how sorry I am. Let me prove to you that you mean more to me than anything- more than stupid nights out, more than the noise of a club, more than my own pride.”
Tears pooled in Charles’s eyes again, and he looked down, his fingers twisting together nervously. Carlos pressed forward, his voice gaining a steadiness that belied the desperation in his heart. “Remember when you first moved in with me? How do you insist on rearranging the furniture until it feels right for both of us? How did we stay up until sunrise because you wouldn’t let me sleep until the stupid coffee table was in its ‘perfect spot’? That’s what home is to me, Charles. It’s you. It’s us. And I can’t lose that.”
Charles’s breath hitched. “Come back with me. You don’t have to forgive me yet not fully. But let me hold you tonight. Let me remind you that you’re my everything. We can talk, or we can just sit in silence. Whatever you need. Just… don’t let this distance grow between us.”
The room was silent, save for the muffled sounds of Kimi and Seb in the kitchen, giving them their space. Charles’s lips quivered, his body trembling as he wrestled with his emotions. Carlos stepped closer, his forehead gently pressing against Charles’s, his hands anchoring them both.
“I love you, Charles,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve never stopped, not for a second. Let me take you home, mi sol. Let me fix this. Please.”
Charles finally looked up at him, his eyes searching Carlos’s face for sincerity. And in that moment, he saw it, the regret, the love, the promise of something better. He couldn’t say no to those eyes he couldn’t say no to Carlos. Slowly, he nodded, a small, hesitant movement, and Carlos let out a shaky breath of relief.
“Okay,” Charles murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But, Carlos… this doesn’t fix everything. You need to show me.”
“I will,” Carlos promised, his arms wrapping around Charles protectively. “I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you.”
Charles went inside and Sebastian emerged from the kitchen with an icy look in his eyes. Carlos felt like a child being scolded and he felt like his every action is under inspection from now on. When Charles emerged from the living room with his phone and keys in his hands Sebastian turned to face him. His expression asking him if he is alright. Charles gave him a light smile. He thanked Sebastian many many times and hugged him before leaving with Carlos. His clothes were not a big problem he could come and get them anytime.
They both were not in the position of driving a car so they called a cab to take them to their flat, to their home. As soon as they stepped in Carlos took a quick shower and then got under the covers spooning Charles throwing his arm around Charles’ waist and pulling him closer, flush against his chest.
Carlos tightened his arm around Charles’s waist, resting his chin gently on Charles’s shoulder. Charles shifted slightly, letting out a soft sigh, and Carlos whispered, his voice warm and tender.
“Mi sol,” he murmured, his breath brushing against Charles’s neck. Carlos pressed a featherlight kiss to the back of Charles’s head. “I don’t think I ever told you enough, but you’re my safe place. Wherever you are, that’s home to me.”
Charles turned slightly in Carlos’s arms to glance back at him. His lips quirked into the tiniest smile. “You really are cheesy sometimes, Carlos.”
Carlos chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Charles’s back. “Only for you, amor. Only for you.”
They were quiet for a moment, the stillness of the night wrapping around them. Charles hesitated, then spoke, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Carlos… I was so scared tonight”
Carlos’s heart ached at the confession, and he immediately pressed another kiss to Charles’s shoulder. “ Charles- you’re my future, my love, my world, my everything. I promise and also I know that I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you.”
Charles’s fingers brushed over Carlos’s hand, which was still wrapped around his waist. “You better,” he teased softly, though his voice cracked slightly.
Carlos smiled, tightening his hold. “I will. First thing tomorrow, I’m canceling every single plan I have for the next week. No distractions. Just us.”
Charles turned fully in Carlos’s arms now, facing him, their foreheads gently touching. “You don’t have to do that,” he whispered. “I just… I just need you to show me that I’m your priority.”
Carlos’s dark eyes softened, gazing into Charles’s. “You’ll always be my priority, mi sol. From now on, no excuses, no mistakes. Just us.”
Charles let out a shaky breath, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Okay,” he murmured, resting his head against Carlos’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Charles felt like they were on the path. And as Carlos held him close, he felt safe, loved, and most importantly home.