Archive of Our Own

It all started on February 1st, 2024. He was lounging at home after coming back from his trip to Italy when the news broke. His seat was handed over to Hamilton behind his back. He couldn’t believe it! How could they? His ears started ringing alongside his phone and he didn’t even realize he had dropped it on the hard floor. The whole room was out of focus, like he lost all sense of gravity and he didn’t know what was happening. How- why- why can’t he catch his breath?

It was like he ran a whole marathon after reading only one post. Where- who was he? And why did all air suddenly evade him? He fell to the ground, gripping his shirt tight, knuckles white. His breaths came in short bursts that did nothing to help his small constricted lungs. His vision started blackening around the edges, black spots dancing when he tried to reach his phone. He did not hear any noise beside the loud thumping of his heart but suddenly there were hands gripping his arms and he flinched back hard, hitting his head on the sofa.

He tried to see who it was but it was hard, tears blurred his eyes. It took some time, but he could finally hear Teto’s calm but sad voice guiding his breaths, feel him touching his hand and he could at last catch his breath. He later learned that it had been his first ever anxiety attack, triggered by his team, and it had been so awful, left him feeling so raw and destroyed that he hoped it was a one time thing, a low point he could only get up from.

He was quite wrong.

Throughout the whole season, he had a few more attacks, triggered by his mistreatment by the team or his difficulties to secure a seat for 2025. It had become so bad that his therapist suggested that he got a service animal. It was decidedly easier for it to be a dog, because bringing a cat to the paddock would be almost impossible. He did not like the idea at first. First of all, they would have to ask the FIA if it was allowed to have a dog all around the paddock with him, and then tell his new team, Williams, that he had been having mental health struggles and needed help, which in Carlos’ opinion, made him look weak. On top of that, the whole world, including all fans, haters and colleagues would have to know too, so they wouldn’t be petting his dog like he was just a pet. Just thinking about it was too stressful, and Carlos couldn’t imagine getting a new dog to bring everywhere when he already had Piñón back home.

That’s when it clicked for him. That was the solution he found and his therapist actually liked the idea. So for the last months of 2024, Piñón had been trained to become a service dog and accompany Carlos on his everyday life. They trained him to be calm in public and not react to loud noises, to be able to identify when Carlos was at the beginning of the attack and to calm him down and if needed, call for additional help. He had to learn the apartment life, after living in the countryside for all his life, but he was extremely happy to see Carlos everyday.

As the start of the season grew closer, his new team decided that the best approach was to make the public fall in love with Piñón with many videos and then explain why he would be coming to all races. It went quite well, if he ignored all the people that said he shouldn’t be racing if he couldn’t keep his head right without help and some of the drivers that looked at him funny.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been scrutinized his whole life, and he could take the criticism, but it never had been about his capacity as a person. Some people treated him like something fragile, which he wasn’t. Most drivers came over to meet Piñón during the tests of the start of the season, Lewis and Charles begging for some pets but the dog wasn’t impressed, staying glued to Carlos’ side at all times.

The first few days were a bit difficult. Many people kept trying to pet Piñón even after Carlos explained again and again that he was a service dog, and he was there to help and work, not be petted. His attacks didn’t slow down but having Piñòn helped a lot. It also helped that if the dog got him stable by himself, then Carlos didn’t have to tell anyone he had another attack.

In Australia, on Thursday and Friday, the whole paddock seemed to want a piece of Piñón. He was not a small dog and he did catch a lot of attention, but was not very fond of it. He had his little Service Dog vest on, and a cute leash full of chillies but the drivers didn’t seem to understand he didn’t want pets. He was working! So he kept his distance.

Piñón was beside Carlos on the Driver’s Parade bus on Sunday, trying to evade all hands when something intrigued him. A guy, wearing an orange shirt, standing on a corner kept looking at him. But what is strange is that this guy who couldn’t keep his eyes off Piñón did not try to pet him. He didn’t even come close! What is his deal? The dog had to find out. Knowing his dad was okay and calm, he left his side and went to sniff the guy’s shoes. He had nice clean shoes and he smelled nice. Piñón decided he should be okay to be petted by this nice guy that didn’t touch him unannounced, so he looked up and sat back, waiting.

The guy looked surprised, but he quickly recovered, crouching down to Piñón’s level.

“Hi Piñon, I’m Oscar. Nice to finally meet you” the guy, Oscar, greeted him, all polite. Piñón liked him already, so he nuzzled him in the chest, asking for snuggles, and he wasn’t disappointed. Oscar rubbed him in all the right places, behind his ears like his dad did and under his belly. It was so great he forgot to keep tabs on said dad, who was suddenly behind him, confused.

“Piñón, what are you doing?” the dog turned to him, sheepish.

“Ahm, sorry Carlos, I know I’m not supposed to be petting him but, I’m my defense, he asked for it. Also, he is very cute” Oscar said, mirroring the dog’s sheepish look. Carlos chuckled.

“It’s okay, Oscar. Piñón doesn’t like many people but he seems to like you lots already.” Carlos responded, looking at the dog glued to Oscar. Oscar’s smile widened.

“That’s an honor, Piñón.” he said, seriously talking to the dog. Something about that made Carlos' heart beat faster. Okay, then. Piñón liked Oscar. So what?

“Okay, let’s go cariño, you can have more pets later” Piñón straightened on the spot, following his dad and looking back at Oscar.

Later on, F1’s instagram was filled with photos and videos of the cute and rare moment.

…

The Australian race was not kind to Carlos. His race ended on the first lap, in the rain. Miserable. His first race in a Williams, a DNF. He could already feel his heart racing when he left the car, but he thankfully managed to hold off his racing thoughts by pouring all his being into helping his teammate secure the P5. He got through the whole race and interviews, and thought it was safe after leaving the team at the celebration but it all came crashing back when he saw his crash replay on the TV. Suddenly his thoughts were spiraling down and down, doubts about his worth and place on the team clouding his mind and he couldn’t understand how he still got a seat, fucking up like that. His breath was short but he felt Piñón licking his hand, showing he was not alone.

The dog guided him to sit somewhere on the ground but he couldn’t figure out where, just trusting him. He laid down fully so Piñón could lay on top of him, their common routine. The pressure usually helped, but this time he felt more and more distressed, as if the atmosphere was heavier with each non-breath. He was not getting any air on his lungs, his doubts took up his mind and his vision was worsening by the second. Oh dios, where was Piñón? Was he going to die here, some lost place on the paddock, suffocated by his own body and all alone?

…

Oscar was sneaking around the paddock trying to avoid any interviews after his fuck up at home. He was glad he could at least wrestle back the car into the track and limp into a sad P9, but he could not stand watching his teammate celebrate. It was honestly unbelievable, he had the pace, the passion and the crowd, but it wasn’t enough. He turned a sharp corner when Piñón came running, almost colliding with his legs. He barked at Oscar, biting the fabric of his jeans and pulling hard, as if to say ‘come, come!’, surely leaving some marks on his pants.

“What 's up, boy? Where’s Carlos?” That got another bark and more pulling, so he gave up and followed the dog, feeling very confused. Well, it wasn’t the first time Piñón acted strangely towards him, he guessed.

He had to run to keep up and found himself in a secluded corner between two hospitalities, away from any prying eyes, and then he saw him. There was Carlos, lying on the ground next to the wall, his chest rising and falling so fast Oscar felt his own heart pick up pace. Fuck. He was clearly having an anxiety attack and by the looks of it, a very bad one if Piñón couldn’t calm him by himself. Oscar felt a shiver run down his spine, his every sense being overwhelmed by worry.

He ran to him and dropped to his knees.

“Carlos, hey, it’s Oscar. Can you hear me?” He watched the Spaniard closely, to catch any reaction because he knew better than trying to touch him without permission. He finally caught a flutter of eyelids, the long lashes full of tears opening to show the pretty brown eyes that always watched him, now lost and panicked. He looked at Oscar and some recognition flashed on his eyes and that was enough for the Aussie.

“I’m going to touch you now, okay?” Oscar carefully grabbed him by the shoulders and slowly eased him into a seating position. He positioned Carlos’ large hand over his own heart.

“Carlos, I need you to breathe with me, okay? Feel my breathing and follow my lead” He started to exaggerate his breaths, holding for a few seconds and counting out loud. Carlos' eyes were locked on his face, but he didn’t seem to be seeing much. In the meantime, Piñón had laid down on Carlos’ lap, letting out some anguished sounds here and there while watching his dad’s pain.

Carlos didn’t really understand what happened but he was glad someone came to his rescue. It was great being off the cold hard floor and he felt the nice warmth from Oscar’s hand and chest start to seep into his cold body. He could barely make out the Aussie’s voice over the loud thumping on his ears, but his presence was already doing wonders. He felt the slow rise and fall under his hand and tried to match, putting all his effort into calming down. It was not easy, it never was, and it seemed to take ages, but he finally stopped feeling like he would die, and his spent body slumped forward into Oscar’s pale arms. He was so tired from fighting against himself. He laid his free hand on Piñón’s spotted fur, stroking softly.

“Good boy” Oscar heard Carlos say softly, barely catching it as the older’s head laid on his shoulder. He knew the praise was for the dog, for bringing help, but he blushed anyway. Their hands were still tightly wrapped together, smushed between their bodies, and the younger used his free hand to stroke up and down Carlos’ back. He didn’t know if they had ever even hugged before, maybe on a drunken night out or something like that, but taps on the back and awkward side hugs was all they had shared before. And suddenly, they were this close. Oscar found he didn’t care, it did not feel wrong or strange this time, so he wouldn’t think too much about it. They stayed in silence for some more minutes, processing the difficult moment they just went through.

When it was time to face the music, Carlos sat back, forcing Oscar to drop his hands. They both missed the warmth. The Spaniard felt the usual shame linger in the back of his mind, but the exhaustion took the front seat. They were looking each other in the eyes, not knowing where to start.

“Gracias, Oscar. I know you didn’t need to help me. Sorry you had to see that” he tried to apologize for inconveniencing the guy, giving a chuckle to try and raise the mood, but there wasn’t any joy in it. He was sure the Aussie pitied him and thought he was weak. He was so embarrassed.

“Carlos, look at me. It’s not shameful needing help sometimes, I’m glad it was me Piñón found” Oscar said, sincere, with a hand on Carlos’ cheek. He dropped it and stood up.

“Now come on, you need some rest” Oscar said, extending his hand to help Carlos up from the ground. He felt dizzy and exhausted, and Oscar kept a hand near his back while they walked to Williams’ hospitality, but none of them mentioned it.

They walked in without trouble, the place mostly empty because of the celebrations, and headed to Carlos’ driver room. It was as neat as Oscar expected, everything in the place it should be, even his clothes were folded and tucked in his open suitcase, so different from Oscar’s messy room. It smelled like sun-warmed skin and the expensive woody scent Carlos always wore. Oscar felt his cheeks blush by his own inner analysis. While the Aussie looked around, Carlos laid down on the sofa bed thing and petted the empty space, gesturing for Piñón to lay with him. The dog walked halfway there and stopped, looking back at Oscar, as if asking if he would stay too.

“No Piñón, Oscar can’t stay. Say goodbye now” Carlos tiredly told the dog, who let out a low cry, as if he had understood. Piñón walked back to Oscar and nuzzled his hand, and the Aussie hugged him quickly, whispering “Thank you for calling me”, for the dog to hear only. He whimpered again but finally went to lay with his dad, and they looked very cute and cozy together. Oscar had a fleeting thought that he wouldn’t deny if he was invited to stay. What a strange thought.

“I’ll be on my way then, mate. Hope you feel better after your nap” he said, wringing his hands together. They were starting to feel cold now.

“Thanks again, Oscar” Carlos repeated in his rough, tired voice.

“Anytime” He responded, and even if Carlos didn’t believe, he meant it. He turned and walked to the door.

“Wait! Oscar” He stopped and turned sharply, his heart beating fast with hope. What for? He didn’t know, no sir.

“If you see Pierluigi can you let him know I’m here taking a nap?” Ah.

“Sure. Rest now Carlos” He concluded, taking his leave and shutting the door softly. It was strange walking inside Williams, and he crossed paths with a few employees who looked at him funny, but none of them protested. He was already outside when he found Pierluigi, Carlos’ trainer, who looked at him confused as hell.

“Oscar? What are you doing here?” Oscar thought his accent sounded funny.

“Hey man, actually, I was with Carlos just now and he asked me to let you know he is in his driver room taking a nap with Piñón” Oscar said, kinda avoiding the real question.

“Hmmm, okay then. Is he okay?” Gigi actually seemed concerned now.

“Yeah, he’s fine now, but you should check on him soon, okay? He will tell you what happened if he feels like it” Oscar concluded, not very sure if Carlos’ would want him to tell everything that happened. But he was glad the Spaniard had someone in his corner.

“Yeah, okay. Grazie Oscar” Gigi said, squeezing his shoulder and entering the hospitality.

…

That night, Carlos was finally laying down on his ‘bed’ inside the plane, going over the interaction. He didn’t know what to feel, if he should be glad it was Oscar the one Piñón had found or chosen, but he was thankful for the way the younger handled the situation. He clearly knew what he was doing and Carlos couldn’t think of any other driver who would have treated him so kindly as Oscar did. He could still feel the gentle touches on his back and maybe he was just touch starved and it had nothing to do with Oscar, but it felt so nice it kept him warm through his whole nap and evening.

Gigi had woken him up, looking a bit worried and Carlos assured him it was all okay. He ended up telling him most of it, and they moved on to packing and all the boring stuff.

He was lost in thoughts when he heard his phone ping. He checked and it was a message from an unsaved number.

- hey mate, its oscar

- was the nap good?

Carlos was not expecting him to check in but he did not dislike it. He saved the contact as ‘Oscar 🦘’.

- Hola cabrón

- Yes, very good. Woke up with Piñón’s drool all over my hoodie.

- ha, he is a very good boy. very good taste in people

- i dont know how a crazy person like you raised such a good dog

Carlos chuckled at Oscar’s self praise but he wouldn’t deny it. He guessed their crashes on track could have earned him the crazy title, but at least Oscar did not hate him like the whole internet thought.

- If you say so.

- you in australia still?

- they actually made hamburgers with my face on it

- heard its your favorite

What was actually happening right now?

- Ay, I wish I was. I can’t believe I didn’t know that before.

- I’m on the plane actually 🙁.

- well, maybe im glad you didn’t know

- my sisters wont stop laughing about my ads

- i think Im the loser sibling

- racing career be damned

- Ay, I know how that feels.

- We both only have sisters, right?

- At least Piñon can’t laugh at my stupid ads.

- yep

- goodnight then, i guess

- hug piñón goodnight for me, pls

- Goodnight Oscar

Carlos ended the conversation with a pic of said dog, already drooling on another hoodie, which Oscar reacted with a heart. It was strange, talking to Oscar as if they were anything more than acquaintances, even after a whole year working together. Their crashes did not help build a relationship, but he had never hated him. He found it frustrating how difficult it was to become his friend, even if they had Lando to bridge the relationship. Now that was in the past, even if he had to have a panic attack to achieve it.

He actually looked up the Grill’d collaboration but what he didn’t expect was how good Oscar looked in the ads. His hair fell perfectly in waves, framing his eyes. What. the. fuck. The people who styled him knew what they were doing, way better than McLaren did. He stared some more and wrote it down to it being his hunger to taste the burgers, nothing to do with the Australian, no. He hugged his dog and went to sleep.

…

Unfortunately, his panic attacks didn’t need a big reason like a DNF to happen. Sometimes they sneaked on him out of nowhere, or built up over the course of a day, only to come crashing when he least expects it.

He had picked up some points here and there over the next few races, but his results were mostly disappointing. It’s not like he expected to be in the top ten every race, he was driving a Williams after all, but it was tiring to lose again and again and had to smile in interviews. Even though his attacks were last frequent now, they always left him worn out, and Piñon always stayed glued to his side the whole day after. It seemed like Oscar had picked up on that, as he usually sought  Carlos out more on those days. The Spaniard always feared that if someone, most importantly if one of the drivers ever realised this, they would use it against him, or explore his weakness, or even tell the media.

Not Oscar though. The Aussie was a pleasant surprise, always defying expectation in some way. When Carlos expected pity, he found sympathy. When he expected disdain or mean jokes, he got comfort and warmth, even if a little awkward. As he got to know the younger better, and got to understand his humour, he realized he was actually quite funny. He liked making Oscar laugh, too, just to see his bunny teeth on display.

They had been talking more and more, around the paddock and through text. A song or book recommendation here and there, many pics from Piñon and their trainer approved meals, and whatever else they felt like sharing. It felt easy, no expectations or need to perform a different personality when they talked. Piñón also always sought Oscar in the paddock, never too far from his dad, but also trying to protect this new addition to his life. Carlos thought it was very cute.

During the Spanish Gran Prix, his mom had noticed the dog’s changed behaviour, and looked at Carlos like she knew something he didn’t. It bogged him, and he tried prying it out of her, but she said he would understand in time. She also met Oscar, in one of the occasions he brought Piñón back after running off, and even if they didn’t talk much, she said he was a lovely boy after. Carlos tried changing the topic, but inside his head, he agreed. He actually watched the podium ceremony, even if his own race had been a shitshow, just to see Oscar’s eyes sparkling on the top step, and got a show of his dark blonde hair dripping with champagne when he congratulated him afterwards. Oh well, maybe he was starting to understand what his mom meant.

Every time Carlos and Oscar talked on the Driver’s Parade or around the paddock, Lando seemed to look at them funny. He was glad they made up but it was so out of nowhere it left him confused as hell. None of them offered him any explanation, and Piñón still never let him have a pet, even when he hung out with Oscar a lot. When he mentioned it, Oscar and Carlos only laughed. Assholes.

…

At the Austrian Gran Prix, it all came crashing down again. It was a shitty weekend to Carlos from the beginning, the struggle with the car bigger than ever. Floor and brake issues left him 19th on the grid, and the car failed before the race had even begun, frustrating him to no end. It was one of those days where the anxiety seemed to build slowly, like the tide of the ocean over a few hours, and when he realized it, he was already drowning.

He woke up feeling uneasy at best, knowing it would not be simple to tame the car into a points finish, but he would try anyway. That thought went to the gutter when he came to the track and the team told him he would not be driving that day, that they would prioritize keeping the car in one piece for the next race. He wanted to scream, to hit something, but he knew best. He was a team player, a person everyone relied on. He just wasn’t used to relying on anyone.

He watched the race from the garage, and was kinda happy to see Lando win, and even more with Oscar on P2 but the mood in the garage was terrible as Alex also had a DNF to match his DNS. Piñón kept nuzzling him, whimpering sometimes, as he probably felt the foul mood his dad was in. Carlos went through the motions after another disappointment, packing his stuff, meeting with the team, being interviewed, saying the team has to do better, all the same stuff as last weekend and probably the next. He left the track with Gigi, heading to the hotel for hopefully a dreamless night.

What he wasn’t expecting was Lando to call him an hour later, screaming they had to celebrate his second win of the year. Carlos wasn’t very impressed, saying he had an early flight tomorrow and couldn’t go. It was a lie, they were not leaving until the afternoon but Lando didn’t know that. His second surprise of the evening came as a text from Oscar:

- mate can’t you come to the club for real?

- lando is being a pain in the ass

- do not leave me to bear him alone pls

- I’m tired and frustrated Oscar.

- Congrats on your P2 by the way.

- thank u carlos

- you write so politely haha

- you should come drown your frustrations with liquor

- try and keep up with me

- Well, I am an old man, didn’t you say once?

- And I can’t drink with my meds.

- shit, im sorry about that

- then you can come take care of me, how bout that?

Carlos took some time to respond. He couldn’t believe he was seriously considering it. Fuck.

- carlos?

- Ay cabrón, you convinced me. What club and time?

Oscar sent him the info and Carlos got ready. Piñón didn’t seem to like one bit to see him getting ready to leave, always getting in his way and bothering. He had to shove the dog aside so he could step out of the room, and kept hearing his barks as he headed down the corridor to the elevator.

At the club, it wasn’t difficult to find Lando, as he seemed to attract all the attention of the room. The techno music the British liked was playing loudly, already hurting Carlos’ hearing. The scream Lando let out when he finally saw him surely deafened at least 5 of the closest people and Carlos recoiled, recovering fast, but Lando didn’t even see it, already drunk and sweaty. He tried making the older drink but to no avail. After Carlos succeeded in extricating himself from the sweaty arms, he found familiar eyes already watching him from a few feet away.

Oscar was leaning back in a booth, nursing a colorful drink. He grinned at Carlos with his cute teeth and, before the Spaniard knew it, his feet had already carried him there.

“Hey mate” Oscar said, taking a sip of his drink. Carlos couldn’t help but watch as a drop of condensation rolled down the glass onto the pale thick neck, passing by a few moles. He caught himself staring and tried to mask it by giving him a side hug.

“Hola cabrón. Having a good time?”

“Kinda. Wish I was the winner. You know how it feels.” Oscar said and shrugged.

“But this helps” He continued, and raised his glass, taking another sip. This time Carlos did not look for certain.

“Yes, I know. I had a shitty day so, maybe I’m not the best company”

“You look handsome though” Oscar responded, catching him off guard. He blushed all the way to his ears and, what the fuck was that? He was 30 years old for god’s sake.

“Gracias, you too Oscar” And the Aussie just grinned again. He was definitely bolder when he drank, Carlos noted.

After that, Lando caught them again and manhandled them onto the dance floor. Carlos felt completely out of place, he couldn’t understand the appeal of that awful ‘music’ but he tried following Lando’s lead, his lanky limbs flailing all over the place. Oscar’s moves were a little more controlled, but he seemed to be having a good time. They were all a bit too close to comfort, but he guesses drunk people didn’t realise that. Other friends took Lando’s attention and suddenly it was like Carlos and Oscar were alone in the middle of hundreds of people. It felt as amazing as terrifying, having Oscar’s eyes all to himself, but his fucking mind chose this specific moment to fuck up his chances.

The music that had been bothering him from the moment he got in was starting to feel like needles in his ears. The flickering colorful lights didn’t let him see much, and all the strange faces around him made him start panicking. Why the fuck was he there? Why didn’t he stay with Piñón in the safety of his room? The room seemed to spin as he struggled to find his bearings, stumbling in place as people kept hitting him from all sides, jumping and dancing. He felt like everyone was looking at him, seeing the panic grip his heart as sweat beaded in his forehead, but he felt so alone. Fuck this was the last place to have a attack.

Oscar, on the other hand, felt on cloud nine that he had convinced Carlos to come. He didn’t even want to come in the first place, but had to play the team player and celebrate with Lando, so having Carlos with him was way better than being alone. He had already had some drinks and the Spaniard looked handsome in a blue linen shirt with a few buttons opened. He felt comfortable in this newfound friendship and he wanted to explore more of it.

The dance floor was crowded and sticky, but he was closer to Carlos’ than he had been for months. It was actually kinda great, until he saw Carlos’ whole mood shift and he could feel himself sober up with it. He could actually pinpoint the moment the older one’s eyes lost their focus, his hand trying to protect his ears from the loud music and failing. His eyes started looking everywhere, wild and searching. He seemed on the brink of losing himself, suddenly out of it and stumbling back. And it was all Oscar’s fault.

“Carlos, Carlos, look at me” Oscar grabbed his face with both hands.

“Huh?” his wild brown eyes focused for a moment on Oscar.

“Let’s go outside okay?” he told the panicked man, but didn’t wait for a response. He made his way outside, breaching through the tight crowd and holding Carlos up. He was thankful the smoking area was almost empty, and his angry gaze worked to make the few people there go back inside. He helped Carlos sit on a bench and crouched in front of him.

“That’s better, right? No more loud music and crazy people” He tried diverting Carlos’ attention from the panic, but not very successfully. The Spaniard’s breaths were short and laboured, and he was gripping the front of his shirt so tight his knuckles were white. Oscar covered his hand and eased his grip, soothing him with his soft words.

“It’s okay now, Carlos. You’re safe. You’re not alone. It’s just us now, breathe for me, darl” He continued, carding his fingers through the thick hair and holding the large hand over his heart, like he did last time.

“You are doing great. It’s all good now, it’s all good” he continued, encouraging calmly and soothing slowly. It was softer than last time in the paddock, Carlos hadn’t slipped into a full state of panic, and Oscar was thankful for that. It meant it was easier and faster to calm him down, and Carlos’ breathing evened out after a few minutes. He pulled Oscar into a hug, making him sit on the bench too. It was warm and cozy, and Oscar felt good, until he felt tears soaking his shoulder. He was about to ask what was wrong when Carlos murmured:

“I’m sorry” He said, sniffling and burying his face deeper into the crook of Oscar’s neck. He felt shame, regret and guilt, all wrapped up in a bundle that weighed down his already heavy heart.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Carlos” Oscar told him, while holding him tighter, hearing the small hiccups that he tried to hide.

“I’m a mess and I ruined your night” The tears kept their steady flow.

“No, you didn’t ruin anything. I didn’t even want to come, you coming was the only good part of it” He reassured the older, and he was actually telling the truth.

“You are not a mess, darl, you’re going through a rough patch right now but that’s going to get better, I promise”

Oscar felt like solid ground to Carlos, a person turned into a place he could land when he crashed down, someone reliable that would make sure he survived the worst. Carlos wanted to believe his words more than anything.

“Promise?” His voice was no more than a whisper, only reaching Oscar’s ears because they were so close.

“Promise” Oscar whispered back. He waited until the tears stopped to continue.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” He said, startling Carlos a bit. The Spaniard pushed off from the embrace, looking at him seriously.

“You don’t need to go with me, Oscar. You can stay and party” Oscar sighed. Carlos had such a hard head.

“Not a chance, mate. I much prefer taking care of you” And Carlos blushed again, but he couldn’t believe it. Why was Oscar like that? Was it pity? Or something else?

He couldn’t respond to that so he waited while Oscar ordered an Uber and they made their way outside. If he was tired before, now he felt like he could drop at any moment. He didn’t remember much of the trip to the hotel, just a few flashes of getting in the car and laying his head on Oscar's shoulder. He was nudged awake when they arrived, and it took his brain a few moments to remember his room number so he could tell Oscar. He still felt dizzy, the after effects of his attacks now something he was used to.

When they got to his floor, the sound of something scratching a door got him more awake. He knew that sound, having heard it many times ever since he got Piñón, back when he didn’t let the dog into his bedroom and learned it would be impossible to sleep if he kept him outside. It was a lost battle, and ever since, the dog slept cuddled to him when he was at home. And now that he went all around the world with Carlos, in every hotel room too.

“Is that Piñón?” Oscar asked curiously when they exited the lift. Carlos only nodded. He fumbled with his wallet until he found the card key and handed it to Oscar, not trusting his shaky hands.

The second they opened the door, Piñón was all over his dad, whining and sniffing. He even barked a few times, as if he was angry Carlos had left him behind. And he really was, sensing that something bad had happened while they were separated. But the dog’s anger didn’t last very long, just happy to see his dad again and very much happier to see Oscar with him, the nice guy who gave the best pets and made his dad’s eyes sparkle. Carlos crouched down inside the room so the Aussie could close the door, and hugged Piñón tight.

“Si, si, Piñón, lo siento, mi amor. No debí haberme ido. Ya estoy bien, no te preocupes. Oscar me salvó” Carlos told the dog, while burying his face in the spotted fur. It was the most comfortable place on earth for him, and he felt his tense shoulders relax.

Oscar, in the meantime, was watching with fond eyes. He thought it was funny to watch how pissed the dog was at Carlos for leaving, and kinda amazing how he probably knew his owner would need help while he was gone. Oscar was once again grateful he could help Carlos, but very guilty to have been the one that made him leave his safety just because he didn’t want to party alone with Lando and his crazy rich friends. He knew a bit of Spanish to understand what Carlos was saying, and it hurt his heart.

Carlos finally looked up at him from his spot on the floor, his heavy lidded eyes showing no sign of him blaming Oscar.

“I’m sorry I made you come to the club. I should have known you were tired and in not the greatest mood after such a bad weekend, I’m really sorry” Oscar apologized, sincere, wringing his hands together in an anxious manner. Carlos observed him calmly, thinking how this boy was so thoughtful he felt guilty for wanting to have a good time with a friend, for celebrating his podium with a few drinks. Carlos wouldn’t have that.

“No no, Oscar. I went because I wanted to. I hoped it would make me feel better, and I wanted to see you, too. Piñón probably knew it was not a good idea, by the way he barked at me when I left, but I went anyway. You’re not at fault here, actually, you’re the one who saved me again”

Oscar tried giving up the guilty feeling gripping his heart. He felt his ears burning up hearing that Carlos also wanted to see him, but he didn’t know how to continue from now. He was supposed to leave, right? But it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to make sure Carlos was okay, that he would sleep well and not have any nightmares. He wanted to be there to make sure he would take his meds in the morning and eat breakfast with him and Piñón. It was late, he didn’t know where this domestic thoughts came from, but he had always been like that. Soft-hearted, a caretaker at his core, being the oldest of 4 siblings. It just wasn’t something he often shared with anyone outside his close family. He wouldn’t ask to stay, too shy for that, but he didn’t even have to. Carlos soft eyes watched him carefully from the floor, still stroking the dog.

“Will you stay tonight?” It took all the courage Carlos had. Oscar proved to be easier to ask help to, and the older man, who usually dealt with everything by himself, found he didn’t need to pretend he was fine in front of him.

“I will” Oscar responded, and Carlos liked the response way more than a simple ‘yes’. It was like a promise, like the only thing he could ever have responded, like it never crossed his mind to say ‘no’.

They went together to the bathroom to get ready for the night, Carlos giving him a spare toothbrush and lending a soft shirt and sweatpants for him to change into. When he put them on, he noticed a faint ‘Sainz' in the back, almost erased by the many washes, but it warmed him to his core.

Outside the bathroom, Carlos was already laying on the bed, the right side empty and waiting for Oscar. The Aussie laid down and turned off the lights, and a few seconds later, Piñón sneaked in the bed too, laying by their feet. They were facing each other, Carlos with his eyes closed and Oscar watching him. He couldn’t help it, his eyelashes were mesmerising even in the low light.

“You are a great surprise, Oscar” Carlos whispered, keeping his eyes closed. It took the aussie by surprise.

“How so?” He asked. He liked keeping his cards close to his chest, not often revealing all his personality to the world, but he didn’t really hide it, in his opinion. He was just an introvert.

“You seem all distant and detached sometimes, but you are a very caring person, you just don’t want anyone to explore that part of you. And even if we didn’t start on the right foot, you never made me feel like a burden or like a weak man for my struggles” Carlos answered, finally opening his eyes. The sliver of moonlight peaking thought the blinds seemed to hit his eyes at just the right angle, and Oscar felt blessed. But it also hurt him to hear what Carlos said. He should never feel like a burden and never weak.

“You’re not a burden Carlos. I know our sport doesn’t allow much tenderness or even any kind of camaraderie. But it 's bullshit. We are the only ones who can understand the pressure, right? Who can see the crap the teams and the media put us through” He took a deep breath.

“I’m here for you. I’m really glad Piñón chose me” He finished. They were so close Oscar could smell Carlos’ skin, and it calmed him into an almost slumber state.

“He is a great judge of character” Carlos said and chuckled. Oscar couldn’t help but smile too. Only a few months ago, he would never dream of something like this happening. But then again, his life was already crazy in every other aspect. He felt his eyes heavy and stopped fighting to keep them open.

“Goodnight, cariño” Was the last thing he heard before dozing off.

…

Oscar woke up with a startle. Something was wrong. Why the fuck was someone licking his cheek?

He sat up in one totally smooth move, looking around wildly. The culprit was on the floor, his front paws on the bed so he could stand and access Oscar’s face. Piñón had the nerve to look sheepish and only then the aussie registered the loud laughs coming from his left.

There was Carlos, in a white hoodie and boxers only. Oscar did all he could to keep from staring at his hairy legs and instead focused on the fact Carlos was filming him.

“What the fuck! Stop filming me!” Oscar shrieked, in what he hoped wasn’t the most stupid voice ever. He covered his head with the blankets.

Carlos, on the other hand, couldn’t stop laughing. Oscar’s hair was sticking up everywhere, his face wet because of Piñón, and his high pitched voice carried a strong Australian accent that Carlos didn’t know he was capable of producing. It was kinda hot.

He stopped filming and told Oscar so, the younger one dropping the blanket and squinting his eyes at him.

“You’re not keeping that video” He said, pointing at Carlos.

“What video?” Carlos said in the most innocent voice he could muster, but his smile betrayed him. His cheeks were starting to hurt by this point.

“Carlos!” Oscar raised his voice, incredulous. Piñón chose this moment to jump on the bed asking for cuddles right after betraying Oscar.

“And you! How dare you betray me like this!” Oscar said, talking fully with the dog now, and started wrestling with him. Carlos fell into laughter once again, tears springing to his eyes, and felt his heart grow 10 sizes. It was such a domestic moment and the anxiety he had for thinking it would be awkward when they woke up proved to be foolish.

When they finally calmed down, Oscar was panting. It made his cheeks red and Carlos' brain was starting to go places it shouldn’t. Oscar looked so right on his bed… He approached them and petted Piñón on the head.

“There, there, he was anxious for you to wake up” Me too, it went unsaid.

“Did you sleep well?” Carlos asked, just what Oscar was about to ask.

“Yep, great” Oscar said, stretching.

“You?”

“Yeah, through the whole night. Breakfast is here if you want it?” Carlos said, kinda giving Oscar an out, if he didn’t want to stay. It couldn’t be further from how he felt.

“Great” Oscar responded, and grinned at the other.

They sat to eat together, and Carlos fed Piñón too. The Spaniard discovered Oscar preferred his coffee with cream, and that he had a sweet tooth (Oscar said he was actually offended that Carlos had never had Timtams). His flight also was in the afternoon and he was going home for a few days. That made Carlos happy and they chatted a bit more about various topics. The mood was calm and easy going, and they enjoyed their time together.

When it was time to go, Oscar changed back into his clothes from the club, and Carlos walked him to the door.

“I gotta say the breakfast was way better than the club” Oscar said and Carlos chuckled.

“Next time, I’ll make you my famous pancakes” Carlos said, only catching the implication of his words afterwards. Oscar felt butterflies flutter in his stomach, stuttering out a ‘sure’ and thinking, will there be a next time?

Carlos pulled the younger into a hug, trying to not overthink. He found it wasn’t easy saying goodbye, wishing they could spend more time together, to learn more about each other.

“Thank you, Oscar. Text me when you land, si?”

“Okay” Oscar responded softly. “Promise to not send that video to anyone?”

“It’s for my eyes only” Carlos said, grinning. For some reason, that made Oscar blush more.

When they separated, Oscar petted Piñón and exited the room, walking down the hallway to the elevator in measured steps. He already missed the cozyness of that hotel room. Carlos watched him go, and their eyes stayed locked until the elevator arrived, like a magnetic pull.

Back in his room, Carlos checked his phone, finding many messages from Lando at the top of his notifications.

- MATEEEE

- WHERE U AT

These and many more messages asking his whereabouts were sent during the night. But more recent, there were a couple more:

- carloooos i cant beliv u left without sayin goodbye

- oscar too!!! thats sooo rude

Carlos grimaced. It was actually rude,and not something he would usually do, but he was in no state to remember about that when they left the club last night. He should probably apologize.

- Hola, cabrón. I’m sorry for leaving so soon.

- I was not feeling well and Oscar helped me get back to the hotel.

- We should have told you we were leaving.

He saw when Lando read the message, and the three dots appeared and disappeared many times, and he kept waiting as Lando seemed to process the information.

- sorry to hear that mate

- hope your better now

A few moments passed again, Lando seeming to hesitate when his phone pinged again.

- did u 2 fuck?

Carlos actually dropped the phone from his hands. WHAT THE HELL? That came out of nowhere!

- WHAT

- LANDO???

- NO WE DIDN’T?

- oh ok than

- it would be mint if you did though

- i think he fancies u

Carlos did not understand how Lando talked so normally about that. And what? Oscar fancied him? As in wanting to be in a relationship with him?

- You think? Why?

- he keeps talking bout u

- and your dog

- and asking questions

- and your always togethr now

- Oh my god

- do u fancy him 2?

- I don’t know, Lando. Maybe? He’s been helping me out.

- I don’t want to make things weird.

- hmmm

- i dont think u will

- just go wit the flow

- Great advice mate.

- anytime

Their conversation strayed into other topics, but Carlos didn’t stop thinking about it.

Many, many hours later, he finally got a notification from Oscar.

It was a picture of a fluffy white dog, who looked crazy happy to see Oscar.

- landed about an hour ago

- dad insisted in picking me up

- got this warm welcome from basil

Carlos smiled at the photo. He didn’t know Oscar had a dog.

- That’s cute from him.

- Basil is a great name.

- Give him some pets for me.

- will do

- you’re in monaco already?

- Sí

- I didn’t know you had a dog too.

- sorry, forgot to tell you

- we had rosie too but we lost her in january

- we have them since i was a kid

- he’s pretty old now

- I’m sorry, Oscar.

- thank you, but it’s okay now

- she was old already

- i was actually afraid that they would forget me

- for spending more time away than home

- but they never did

- I know that feeling.

- Back when Piñón lived in Spain, I only saw him during the holidays.

- But it was always like the first time.

- he is a special dog

- He is.

- Maybe he can meet Basil next year?

- i reckon he will

Carlos catched himself daydreaming about the Australian sun and playing with Oscar’s old dog. He was actively thinking about a relationship now that Lando planted the idea in his head. He craved it.

- I will let you sleep now.

- Goodnight, osito.

- goodnight carlos

They were both smiling stupidly at their phones.

…

For the next few months, they kept this routine. Talking around the paddock and texting, and Carlos couldn’t even try to hide how his mood had improved. His anxiety attacks had been less frequent now, and Oscar’s funny dry remarks always got him laughing harder than he needed to. What wasn’t nice was when Teto caught wind of this new development. Carlos would never hear the end of it, Teto calling them lovebirds and saying insane things behind Oscar’s back. It was driving Carlos insane, and Teto even dragged Gigi and Caco into it. He was starting to think if he didn’t confess to Oscar soon, they would do it for him.

He had known he was bisexual from a young age, and had made very clear for his team 55 that he wouldn’t tolerate any discrimination. It didn’t make his life easier, this other side he had to keep hidden, but they always had his back. But he didn’t know if Oscar liked men, had never asked, and he wouldn’t base his entire future in Lando’s opinion. He had to make more analyses.

…

By the time the summer break rolled around, he was bone tired and just wanted to stay hidden from the world for as long as possible. He flew from Hungary to Monaco to collect his things and then directly to his parents' beach home in Mallorca. Oscar did basically the same thing, but his beach home was all the way on the other side of the world.

It was a peaceful time, filled with long hours lounging in the sun and playing with Piñón on the beach. It was great, letting the dog enjoy himself and just be, a whole field for him to run and run, after flying around the world and dealing with planes and paddocks. He posted videos of those moments that Guzman got on camera, knowing Oscar would see and mention it later. It became his thing, always trying to get a reaction from the younger. A few shirtless videos on the boat were also on the post, and he wondered what was Oscar’s reaction to that.

It was during that month that they got the habit of calling. It was Carlos that suggested it, wanting to have longer conversations than the texts would allow. Maybe it was because he was older, but it felt easier (no mention of the fact he missed hearing Oscar’s voice).

They usually called when it was morning in Spain, because of the 10 hours time difference. Sometimes Carlos got a call in the middle of the afternoon, and he knew it was one of those nights where Oscar couldn’t sleep because of his anxieties about the championship. On those days, Carlos would either go to a more secluded space in his home and try to soothe the younger with his words, or open a video call and try to cheer him up, showing what he was doing, Piñón or even his baby nephew, if he was around.. Oscar said it always helped, and he woke up feeling much better afterwards.

Their families also noted this new behavior. Carlos’ mom, who had already known something was up from the moment she met Oscar at the Gran Prix, couldn’t be happier. She teamed up with her daughters to annoy him whenever was possible, and mainly when he was on a call with Oscar, saying “¡Dile a mi yerno que le mando saludos, Carlos!”, just to see her son blush furiously. She told him she was expecting her son-in-law to be with them the next break, and even his dad, who was a bit more suspicious of him dating a fellow driver, nodded in agreement.

In Australia, Oscar was going through a similar predicament. His mom had noticed he was  smitten the second she set her eyes on him, and from then on, he had to sneak around through his house so he could speak with Carlos without being bothered by all his sisters and his mom. He didn't always succeed, and sometimes his mom even took his phone so she could speak with Carlos. The Spaniard assured him he was more than fine with it, a big smile playing on his lips, and Oscar couldn’t stay mad at his family’s shenanigans for long.

A few days before the season resumed, Carlos had to get back to Monaco and get his life ready in work mode. He knew Oscar was coming too in a few days, but they hadn’t said anything about meeting up. His anxiety sometimes got to him about it, mostly now when he was alone with his thoughts. He kept thinking why would Oscar be with someone like him, so much older and probably nearing the end of his run as a Formula 1 driver. Someone with a mental illness that rendered him sometimes incapable of even breathing by himself, and he did not want to put that burden on a boy so fresh on the scene, a boy who had so many other worries, like fighting for the championship on a team that didn’t support him like they should.

But he couldn’t help but crave him. Crave his accent when he called during the night, or his strange taste in music, or his confidence on track. He craved the stupid jokes and the eyes that showed every single emotion the boy felt, much different from what the media painted. But he would not ask for it. It was enough to have him as a friend, it had to be enough.

These thoughts kept festering inside his head, and his house felt suffocating, so he put the blue vest on Piñón and they went for a walk by the harbour. He didn’t bring the leash, the dog walking by his side. It was a very calm night, and the breeze helped clear his mind. Everything was going great, until out of nowhere, Piñón took off running to the other side of the harbour. It caught Carlos unprepared.

“PIÑÓN!” He shouted after the dog, trying to run after him, afraid he would run into traffic or something. He saw Piñon had stopped a couple hundred meters away, and his tail was wagging crazily as someone petted him on the ground. He took a few deep breaths and tried calming down, walking until he reached them.

“Piñón, no puedes hacer eso, cariño” Carlos said, supporting his hands on his knees while trying to catch his breath when he caught sight of a familiar swoop of dark blonde hair and a freckled pale neck.

“Oscar?” His heart picked up pace again. So much for going on a walk to forget the Australian. The younger looked up at him, still petting Piñón and smiled (Carlos’ heart melted).

“Hey mate. I think he missed me” Oscar said, referring to the dog.

“He did” Carlos responded, and after a beat, added:

“I did, too” At that, Oscar stood up and actually hugged Carlos. He smelt like Piñón and saltwater, and something distinctly Oscar.

“Me too” The aussie said and Carlos’ heart cheered. Now all his worries seemed so foolish, feeling the contrast from Oscar’s warmth and the cool breeze of Monte Carlo.

They ended up going to a small restaurant where they could sit outside and see the stars, Piñón lying by their feet. It was Oscar’s suggestion, and Carlos had a great time. It looked like a date, felt like a date, but was it a date? He wouldn’t be asking.

…

During the Dutch Gran Prix, they didn’t have many opportunities to talk, but it ended up being a splendid race for Oscar, and he could stretch his lead on the championship. Carlos’ on the other hand, felt disappointed to finish outside the points after qualifying P9. It wasn’t a good birthday present and he wished he could drown his sorrows in alcohol. Oh well.

They ended up going to a restaurant anyway, his team and a few fellow drivers. He wasn’t really in the mood for celebrating, but having Oscar’s eyes all to himself during the ‘Happy Birthday’ song made him smile bigger and brighter. Sometimes when their eyes locked, in a full paddock or a dimly lit corridor, it was like everything else ceased to exist, and this time wasn’t different, and Teto caught it on video.

The next day, his real birthday, Carlos woke up with a text from Oscar, after having his face licked by Piñón.

- happy birthday, Carlos!!

- i hope u have a great one

- im very happy we got closer this year

- youre a great person, a great driver and a great friend

- are u still in zandvoort?

Carlos didn’t know whether to cry, scream, jump or dance. His heart was beating a mile a minute, and he didn’t even realize how big his smile was until his cheeks started to hurt.

- Good morning, osito

- Gracias ❤️

- Sí, leaving soon for the airport.

- can I drop by to give your present?

- Ay Oscar, there was no need for a present.

- dont worry, it wasnt expensive

- so?

- Sure

Carlos sent him his room info and got his things ready to travel. Not much time later, there was a knock on his door. He opened it to see Oscar in a black hoodie and black shorts (he was always wearing this strange combinations, even if it was really hot or cold). He got a hug for his birthday (if that was the present, Carlos would be more than satisfied) and he stepped aside so the boy could come in. Piñón got a few pets from Oscar and then the younger finally handed him a little bag. Carlos opened it to see a Koala plushie with a matching leash for Piñón.

“I saw this at a store back home and thought of you two. And since you kept calling me ‘osito’, I thought it made sense” Oscar explained, blushing. And he wasn’t the only one. Carlos felt his ears burning, never really thinking that Oscar would know what his pet names meant. He felt so silly, so he quickly hid his face on Oscar’s neck, hugging him again.

“Thank you, osito” He whispered. It meant the world to him, thinking about Oscar shopping around his hometown and having Carlos on his mind. When they separated, their faces were so close that the aussie could smell Carlos’ aftershave. It would be so easy, it felt so right, to move that last few centimeters and close the gap. Oscar desperately wanted to know how it would feel, how it would taste, but his moments of hesitation while he gathered courage were interrupted by Piñón, who jumped up between them to catch the plushie still in Carlos’ hand.

It broke the tense atmosphere, but they both fell into laughter. From then, they chatted a bit and both went on their ways, having planes to catch and all that, and Carlos didn’t even remember why he had been so pissed yesterday. In the end, he had a great birthday.

For all the next races, Piñón’s chillies leash was changed for the koalas one, and if anyone noticed, they didn’t mention it.

…

In the week leading up to the Brazilian Gran Prix, Carlos did not feel good. He caught a cold or something, the fever rendering his body weak and aching. Piñón was being extra protective, and Carlos even had to delay his flight a full day so he could rest more before traveling. He tried to give some attention to the fans at the airport, but he still felt dizzy, like his head was filled with cotton, and the dog stayed glued to his legs at all times.

He hadn’t told Oscar that he was sick, making up excuses why they couldn’t call, because he didn’t want the boy to worry. He was already in a tense mood, losing the championship lead after almost 200 days, and Carlos wouldn’t add to it. That thought went out the window when he wasn’t okay enough to attend media day and even if he protested, Gigi didn’t let him go. Soon enough, every news outlet was talking about him and a few minutes later Oscar was already texting, asking how he felt and pissed he didn’t say he was ill. So much for keeping secrecy.

He told the aussie the truth and got called stupid (serves him right), but soon Oscar was back worrying over him. Thanks to his additional rest on Thursday, he was capable of being in the paddock on Friday but he was still a bit out of it. Free practice went well, but when it really mattered, in the Sprint Qualy, he fucked up again and again, ruining his own lap and some fellow drivers’. It left him feeling terrible, wanting to disappear from the public eye.

The Saturday morning was a bit chilly, and the thin rain was annoying him. He kept shivering even if the fever had broken a few days ago, and the shame from yesterday hadn’t dissipated yet. He felt his skin crawl when anyone looked at him for too long, his shoulders tense.

The Sprint was terrible, the asphalt still wet from the previous rain, and it went even worse watching Oscar crash. He was glad that during the red flag he could make sure the aussie was alright, at least physically.

He failed to set a good time and fell in Q2, the worst of the bunch. The rest of the Saturday he stayed hidden in his driver’s room, cuddling with Piñón and pretending everything was fine. He tried calling Oscar a few times but got no response, feeling his heart tighten with each call unanswered. Eventually, Caco came to pick him up to go back to the hotel, but Carlos didn’t have any luck seeing Oscar on his way out. No goodnight or good morning either, and his already troubled mind started playing him tricks.

What the fuck was happening? Did Oscar see his fuck up on friday and realize he was not good enough to be friends with? Or did he cross a line and not see? Did he make the aussie uncomfortable?

He went into the race with the opposite of a clean head, all the possible scenarios playing in his mind, one worse than the other. A contact in the beginning of the race made his car even worse, and he limped around the whole time, managing to keep the car in one piece and crossing the finish line in 15th. Pathetic if you asked him.

After being weighted and talking to his team, he was told about Oscar’s 5th place finish and the unfair 10 second penalty he had received, that prevented him from fighting for the win and could actually cost him the championship. It made Carlos’ blood boil, he was pissed at the stewards, at Kimi, even at McLaren, for not fighting for justice. Oscar must be feeling so alone, Carlos thought. He was 24 points behind now, and it would be very difficult to breach the gap, but Carlos believed in him 100%.

His heart felt heavier than ever, the uneasy feeling that had followed him the whole week merging with the pain he felt for Oscar. He could actively feel his heart pace pick up, and he tried grounding himself in the moment before it got out of hand. He tried counting things, seeing, hearing, even smelling, and it helped for a bit, but he knew it was better to be beside Piñón, in case it got out of hand again. The more time that passed, he was more aware of the vulnerable place he was in, where every media outlet or team crew could film him and post online. He searched for Teto in the garage, who had been in charge of taking care of Piñón. Carlos found him talking with some of Williams' mechanics, looking disheveled and with no dog in sight.

“Teto” He said in a demanding voice, his friend turning to look at him, panic written on his face and it did not help calm Carlos down.

“Carlos” The man responded, steadying him by the shoulders but Carlos pushed his hands off.

“¿Dónde está mi perro?” He asked, pissed. He could feel himself start to hyperventilate.

“¡No lo sé! ¡Salió corriendo de la nada y nadie vio adónde fue! ¡Lo siento, Carlos!” Teto answered, just as desperate, seeing his friend start to fall into a panic.

Fuck! Carlos thought. Where is Piñón? What if someone took him? If they hurt him? What if Carlos never sees him again? Carlos’ head supplied him with the worst case scenarios.

These thoughts took away any sanity he had left, and he only didn’t fall on the ground because Gigi appeared out of nowhere and held him up, supporting his weight until they made it to his driver’s room, all the eyes on them be damned. But Carlos didn’t see any of it, his head pounding, feeling his hands shake and his lungs shrink. Teto and Gigi even tried calming him down, but none of them were able to get Carlos out of his pit of panic. His breaths were so short now that they feared he would faint and they almost didn’t catch it, but Carlos managed to say one word between gasps:

“Oscar”

Teto didn’t wait even one second more, running at full speed through the paddock into McLaren’s hospitality. He could make an excuse later, now he needed to help his best friend. No one could catch him on his way inside and he quickly found Oscar’s name written on a door, which he knocked incessantly until it opened. Inside was Oscar, eyes red as if he had been crying, but he wasn’t alone. There was their missing dog, laying on the couch as if he wasn’t needed anywhere else. Teto couldn’t believe it!

“Ay Piñón! ¿Qué estás haciendo aquí? Tu padre te necesita!” Teto raised his voice, shouting at the dog, who stood up, sensing something was wrong. Oscar wiped his eyes.

“What the fuck Teto?” His voice was rough, presumably from the crying.

“Carlos needs help, he panicked after Piñón disappeared and he asked for you” Teto relayed the information while dragging Oscar out by his hoodie sleeve. After hearing the words, Oscar’s eyes cleared up and he started running, alongside Teto and Piñón.

It was all his fault. Hadn’t he been so miserable and selfish, Piñón wouldn’t have followed him and stayed to calm him down and Carlos wouldn’t have missed him, and he wouldn’t be having an attack right now. Fuck fuck fuck.

They made their way into Carlos’ room, and he was still laying on the couch while Gigi unsuccessfully tried calming him down. Oscar knew it would be easier with less people around so he asked the other men to leave, which they did, very hesitantly.

Piñón had already jumped up on the couch, laying his whole body on top of Carlos, keeping pressure on his dad’s chest. Oscar saw the exact moment Carlos felt Piñón’s presence, the way he visibly relaxed the moment the dog laid his head under his chin. The aussie could see the tears streaming down Carlos’ face, the way the older brought his shaky arms around the dog and hugged him tight. Oscar had dropped to his knees beside the couch and he could hear Carlos mumbling under his breath into Piñón’s fur “mi vida” again and again, between gasps.

This time, all Oscar did was stay beside Carlos, brushing his hand through his thick dark hair and repeating a few soothing words. This time, he got to watch as Piñón did his job, helping his dad get back into this world, and he felt honoured to watch their bond so closely. Carlos’ breaths eventually slowed down, his lungs finally filling with oxygen like they should. He felt his senses come back one by one, the cute sound of Piñón’s breathing, the softness of his fur, the low lights that didn’t hurt his eyes anymore.

But he felt more. He smelled Oscar’s citrus soap, felt his steady hands carding through his hair, but most importantly, felt the boy’s forehead pressing against his temple. He took a few more deep breaths, just because he could, before speaking.

“Oscar?”

“I’m here” The aussie responded, in the softest voice Carlos ever heard from him. He didn’t move, staying in the intimate position they were in.

“You came” Carlos said, as if Oscar wouldn’t run around the world to keep him safe, not just across the paddock.

“Of course”

Another moment passed until Oscar spoke again.

“I’m sorry” He said, and to Carlos it came out of nowhere. Why would the aussie be apologizing? And worse than that, Carlos could hear the tears in his voice. The Spaniard then turned his head to the left, missing the warmth from Oscar’s face pressed against his but finally able to look him in the eyes. And he didn’t like what he saw. The tears now running down Oscar’s face didn’t seem to be the first ones of the day, his eyes were puffy and red. Carlos brought his right hand to hold Oscar’s cheek, stroking softly.

“Cariño, why are you apologizing?” He asked, and for some reason his words made Oscar cry harder. It worried Carlos impossibly more, and he sat up to face the boy, Piñón getting up in the process. The older crouched down in front of Oscar, holding his face with two hands as the boy hiccuped but didn't meet his eyes.

“He was with me” The younger one said between sobs, and Carlos was even more confused.

“¿Qué Oscar? Who?” Carlos asked and the Aussie finally looked him in the eyes. They looked so hurt, so full of guilt and pain, and Carlos didn't understand.

“Piñón! He followed me after the race and stayed with me as I cried ‘cause I’m a fuck up who’s going to lose the championship!” Oscar said, holding onto Carlos’ hands which were still on his face. His tears kept falling and he kept gasping for air, and Carlos finally understood.

“Oscar, Oscar, mi amor, look at me” He pleaded, as the boy had closed his eyes again, squeezing them shut tight. He shaked his head no, knowing that Carlos’ bambi eyes had the ability to break all his walls.

“Oscar, por favor” He pleaded once again, and the boy slowly opened his eyes, seeing that Carlos’ face was also damp with tears.

“Oscar, it’s okay. I promise you, it’s okay”. Oscar hiccuped, tilting his head.

“Piñón knew I would want you safe and happy, and he probably sensed you were not okay. So he went to you” Carlos reassured him, caressing his cheek once more.

“I know you wouldn’t keep him if you knew I wasn’t okay. I just had a shitty weekend and this was just that small thing that set me off into an attack. But it’s not your fault, cariño” Oscar’s sobs slowed down.

“I think he fell in love with you” Carlos said, looking straight into his eyes. Oscar’s heart fluttered, or more like jumped off a cliff and came back flying.

“He did?” Oscar asked in the smallest voice, dripping with hope.

“Si, mi vida” Carlos said, and the boy understood. They were no longer talking about the dog.

“You are the most caring person I know, the most thoughtful and selfless. I love hearing your voice when you just woke up, I love your accent, your bunny teeth and your freckles. You always manage to surprise me, with your dry humour, funny foods and wise words. You draw me in like a magnet, even when I try to keep my distance, it never works. You made my life impossibly better this year, helping me like it was nothing, while you had a whole championship fight happening. You are amazing, increíble, and I couldn’t dream of deserving you” Carlos poured his heart out.

Oscar found himself laughing, an honest giggle breaking free from his chest as the tears kept rolling down his cheeks. He pressed his forehead against Carlos's.

“I love you so much” he said with a sigh, like a heavy load was lifted off his shoulders. And maybe it was. He had been keeping those words to himself for so long now. And before Carlos could say anything, the boy continued:

“You can’t imagine how long I’ve wanted to tell you this. Your presence is what actually drove me forward this year, kept me sane through my team’s bullshit, kept me steady when I missed home and wanted to give up. You are so beautiful, inside and out. You mean more to me than any trophy, Carlos, and I know that with you by my side, I can do anything” He ended in a low voice.

“And don’t you dare say you don’t deserve me, cabrón. You’re more than I ever hoped for” Oscar concluded and Carlos could not hold himself back. He captured the boy's lips in a searing kiss, which began with the hurry of all those months spent as friends but turned softer when they realized that now they had all the time in the world. Time to explore, to get to know everything, to write each other’s names on their history.

“Maybe you should dream bigger” Carlos said when they separated.

“I’m exactly where I want to be” Oscar said, punctuating the statement with another kiss. Now that the tension had broken, they started giggling like teenagers and Piñón wanted in on the fun, throwing himself between them. They separated to give the dog some attention, rubbing his belly and telling him how he had been such a good boy. He was impossibly happy that he got two dads now, and Carlos and Oscar were so grateful for him, or else they wouldn't have gotten to this moment.

After some time, they decided to lay down on the couch, the exhaustion from the race and the emotional rollercoaster getting to them. Carlos laid down first, and Oscar laid in his chest, with Piñón by their feet. It wasn't lost on Oscar how this was exactly what he wanted that first time he had helped Carlos down from his attack, back in Australia.

“Who could imagine how exhausting it would be to profess your undying love for someone…” Carlos said, serious.

“Shut up, mate” Oscar said, looking him in the eyes, just to catch Carlos’ reaction, and he didn’t disappoint.

“Mate? Mate? Seriously, Oscar? No, no, no. Mate you can call all the other guys in your life. You should call your boyfriend something better” Carlos said, indignant. He said it so simply, boyfriend, and Oscar almost died. Almost. He had too much to live for now.

“Hmmmm, what should it be? Honey? Sweetheart?” He said, and watched Carlos’ face turn red. It was so funny how he couldn’t hide any of his reactions, ever.

“Didn’t you call me ‘darl’ before?” Carlos said and it was Oscar’s time to blush. He had totally forgotten that he did that.

“True. Darling it is” He said, and pecked Carlos on the lips just because he could, then laid his head on the strong chest, listening to the steady breaths of the man he loved.

“Gracias, cariño. Eres el mayor regalo de mi vida” Carlos said and kissed the boy 's soft hair.

“Y tú eres mío” Oscar murmured, just to hear Carlos almost shout: “WHAT??”

Oh well, it seems like he had forgotten to mention he knew Spanish.

…

Sometime later, when Teto came in to check that everything was fine, he found the three of them cuddled up on the small couch. He took a picture, for blackmail purposes of course, and not because it was the cutest scene ever.

…

In the end, Oscar left Brazil doubting everything about his career, from the team he was on to the justice in the FIA and his chances on the championship, but he had no doubt about himself anymore. He knew what he was capable of, knew he was just beginning, and most importantly, knew he would never be alone in the fight again. He left the country with a boyfriend and a heart so full he couldn't keep it on his chest.

Carlos, who had been fighting against himself, finally accepted that the boy wasn’t giving up on him, and realized he had known they would be a family from the moment Piñón had picked Oscar from the crowd. He indeed was a special dog.