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Carlos moves in on the first Sunday of the new year.
The low winter sun is shining, and the sky is stunningly blue, making the transition a piece of cake. They get all of his things moved in; his cases unpacked in the bedroom, his kitchen things mixed amongst Lando’s in the cupboards and drawers, including his espresso machine on the counter opposite the fridge. Lando sits beside it as his new flatmate sets it up, until they catch eyes and Carlos can’t resist kissing him silly.
They have a cosy night to themselves as a reward, Carlos offering to cook despite Lando insisting they order takeaway instead. Lando’s fridge is full of his training meals a chef cooks weekly especially for him, ensuring he gets all of the correct nutrients for his vigorous lifestyle as an elite Formula 1 driver. Carlos is perfectly fine to keep them, offering to cook dishes he knows Lando will eat every so often, found through trial and error over the years of knowing each other.
In turn, Lando only has one hard rule: absolutely no fish. Ever.
Carlos cooks for their first night officially living together, while Lando games for a bit before rejoining him, sitting on the counter again and playing distraction, both sassy and sexy. His heart is fluttering once they’re seated, eating at his table. It’s like a date, except this is how it will be every night.
He can’t keep the smile off his face. Carlos catches his eye and wiggles his eyebrows.
It’s perfect.
They’re out for breakfast at his favourite little café, enjoying the early morning air. Carlos deemed the roads too unsafe to go cycling, so they both got dressed and headed out for a walk instead.
It’s a sluggish Monday. Thick clouds circle overhead with patches of ice and frost across the tarmac, and they’re carefully gracing the walkways. Monaco is equipped with hidden lifts that allow pedestrians to avoid the steep hills if one knows where to find them. Lando’s been here three years now, so he knows all of the nooks and crannies of the principality.
The food is delicious, even if it’s the same thing he orders every time, because it’s safe, and Carlos has his fill of their good coffee.
Once they’re finished and ready to go, he heads towards the counter to pay when he’s bowled over by something solid. And hot. Just about keeping his footing thanks to quick, firm hands at his waist, he hisses as he feels the hot liquid soak through his layers. He hadn’t buttoned up his coat yet.
There’s some rapid French, which he assumes is an apology, and he holds up his hand and says what he thinks means don’t worry in the same language. It’s clumsy, he’s aware, but Monegasques speak French, and it’s only polite of him to know some basic phrases.
Carlos is patting him down with napkins, checking the exposed skin of his neck for any signs of scalding. Lando shoots him a look that is both grateful and reassuring that only his clothes are damaged.
The poor server, Chloé on her name badge, tries to offer them their orders for free and anything else they want off the menu to take away with them, but Lando smiles sweetly and declines. Accidents happen, and his clothes will wash; it’s no trouble. He even tips her a generous amount just because he can.
It’s his favourite café, and he doesn’t want them to fear he’s not coming back over one small accident.
“That was cute of you, cariño,” Carlos praises, kissing his cheek before they continue walking back to their apartment. Their apartment, he smiles at the thought, doesn’t that sound lovely?
Lando blushes, shrugging. “Yeah, well, accidents happen. The last person I wanna be is a dickhead who makes a scene over things like that.”
“So what are the plans for the rest of the day?”
Lando groans. “After I’ve gotten changed, I’ve gotta drop the Miura off at the Lambo place. It was making weird noises last time I drove it, and I’m no mechanic, so don’t trust myself to try and fix it. She’s my pride and joy!”
Carlos hums. “Most people have pets or children. I have Piñón, your family has their dogs and horses, and my family has Oli and Elena. Look at you with cars for babies!”
Lando shoulder bumps him, and they giggle as they both nearly faceplant the pavement.
He wasn’t gonna deny, though, that his car collection was special and meant a lot to him. He’d worked hard to gain his own wealth to be able to start collecting his dream cars, so of course he was going to make sure they were well looked after.
Lando’s gaming when he gets the call.
It had been hard to leave the bed at first, all wrapped up in Carlos, who was an early riser by default. Getting woken up by soft kisses and gentle touches was a wonderful way to start the day, and knowing he had that for the foreseeable future made getting up earlier than he normally would worth it. Carlos had an early morning routine of cycling, showering, dressing, eating, and then going about his set out plans for the day.
Lando was never good at strict schedules, especially in the off-season, but he managed.
He ended up in his gaming room, in pyjama bottoms and a hoodie from his chair, declining breakfast from Carlos as his body wasn’t awake enough yet. His boyfriend kissed his head and said he’d be getting to know Lando’s TV and lounge if he wanted any company. It was nice that they could settle into their own routines so quickly without feeling like they had to always be in the same room. It filled him with warmth that their partnership was only going to strengthen, having finally taken the step of living together.
So when he gets the call, he pauses his game and answers.
His happy mood evaporates the more the one-sided conversation continues, however. He can’t do much more than hum and fill in with the occasional yeah, okay, while he processes what he’s hearing.
Finally able to mutter some polite reassurances and thanks, he drops his phone on his desk before rubbing his hands over his face.
At least the call hadn’t woken him up; that would have been extra shitty.
Turning off his PC and trudging through to the lounge, he all but flops into Carlos’ lap, pouting and folding his arms over his chest.
Carlos strokes his hair. “Everything okay?”
“One of the mechanics crashed the Miura.”
The hand in his hair stilled. “That’s not funny, amor.”
“I fucking wish I was joking, babe. Garage just called me. They were giving it a test drive to make sure it was fixed.” He dragged his hands over his face again. “And now I won’t have it back for a few more days.”
“We could sue them? They should give you the service for free anyway.”
Lando shakes his head. “Apparently, it wasn’t bad, just the rear end hitting the barrier. They’re gonna send over some photos. I don’t care about the money, just fucking annoyed I can’t have it back yet. I wanted to take you out in it.”
“You’re sure having a week, aren’t you? The coffee incident yesterday and now this.”
“Don’t remind me,” Lando groans. “Dunno what I’ve done to deserve this shit from the universe, but I would like it to stop now.”
Carlos pats his stomach. “Come on, let me make you breakfast. I think you deserve it.”
“Noooo, I want cuddles!” Lando whines, despite his stomach growling. He’s grouchy because it’s morning, and he’s just had some shit news, and they left the bed way too early if you ask him.
Carlos takes pity on him. “Okay, okay, some cuddles for a bit and then I’ll make you some breakfast, happy?”
“Yesss,” he says quietly as they rearrange themselves so he’s lying on top of Carlos rather than in his lap. They’re watching some Tour de France programme, and Carlos smells divine after his shower, and Lando sighs and smiles, snuggling against his neck.
He loves this easy domesticity so much.
Carlos is out with friends the next day, and Lando is busy doing some chores because he’s bored. They have their fair share of everything now, and Lando finds some tasks are easier to accomplish knowing there’s only half the pressure now.
He’s put his white shirts in the wash that have just sat in his hamper over Christmas after all the post-season commitments and parties. It’s kinda gross, he knows, but it wasn’t like they were crazy dirty after a couple hours of wear. They just needed washing and hanging back up; they’d get professionally steamed and pressed next time they were needed.
He puts on some music and washes up their breakfast plates, singing and dancing along. It feels good to just have some normalcy after the small upsets of the last two days. He’s back at the MTC next week, and they’re flying back to Glastonbury tomorrow for the weekend.
Draining the sink once he’s finished, he sees he’s got a message from Max asking about his car, and that fills him with dread because he didn’t tell anybody about it other than Carlos. He groans as he replies to confirm it, and Max, in turn, confirms his suspicions that there are images of his damaged car all over social media.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Lando explains that it wasn’t him, and Max says that he didn’t think it was, and he can’t help but snipe back that he’s having the worst week of his life since Brazil. It’s dramatic of him, sure, but he thinks he’s allowed to be annoyed at getting fucked over by the universe two days in a row. Max invites him to game later, and he accepts.
The washing machine announces its end, and he’s about to switch it to spin when he sees pink.
Blinking as he stares, because he’s pretty fucking sure he’s seeing things, he then lets a sharp breath out of his nose before he turns abruptly and storms out of the room. He does a full lap of the apartment before he’s back at the laundry cupboard and wants to throw the thing over the balcony.
His white shirts are now all pink. Closing his eyes and taking another breath, he scoops them out into the basket on the floor and finds the culprit. One of his Ralph Lauren bright red sweatshirts.
Swearing under his breath, he hauls the basket to the balcony where he has a clothes airer, roughly shoves them all on as best he can, and heads back to the kitchen to make himself some lunch. He’s due for a workout in the afternoon, and no doubt that will help him kill off some stress before they head over to England tomorrow.
He puts his favourite comfort movie on while he eats and then leaves the plate and cutlery on the coffee table, not finding the fucks to chuck them in the sink.
When Carlos returns a few hours later, Lando is so pent up he all but attacks him as soon as he enters the apartment. Carlos questions the aggression of the attack kisses, but after Lando briefly explains his day, his boyfriend has absolutely no problem taking him to bed.
It’s just what he needs, and he feels so much better as he sinks into the sheets while Carlos gets him a warm cloth to wipe down with.
“Landoooo,” comes his uncertain, hesitant voice, and Lando doesn’t like that at all.
He raises himself to his elbows. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s no water.” Carlos comes back into the bedroom with a towel. He better not be pulling a fucking prank.
“You’re fucking kidding me.”
This was not happening to him again!
But Carlos is not pulling a cruel prank, because he checks for himself after using the dry towel to clean up. No water from the taps or the shower.
“What the fuck, I’ve literally been using it today! For the laundry that’s now all fucking pink and the washing up!”
Carlos gently rubs his back. “Hey, it’s okay. If you want to scrub up, we’ve got water bottles and the kettle, or there are baby wipes for your nieces. We’ll figure it out.”
Lando leans his head against Carlos’ shoulder, and his arms tighten around him. “I’m fucking cursed, Carlos. Once is random, that’s life, sure. Two is an extremely annoying coincidence, but three? Three is a fucking pattern!”
“Well, maybe spending the weekend at home with your family will help a little bit.” Carlos kisses his head, and Lando breathes.
“Sure.”
The water is fixed in his apartment building pretty quickly, and his mum offers to fix his ruined white shirts, so after a long morning shower to freshen up, he’s packed, and they’re flying over to Nice airport in good time.
As they sit in the private terminal lounge, Carlos is sipping on a coffee, and Lando is scrolling on his phone. His leg bounces, and he’s biting the fingers on his free hand.
“Why are you so nervous, amor?” Carlos asks, rubbing his knee.
Lando glares at him because isn’t it fucking obvious? “I’m cursed, Carlos! What if the plane crashes? That’s a thing that happens! I can’t believe you’re even coming with me. It’s a stupid risk!”
He jumps to his feet and starts pacing. His chest feels tight, and his fingers have sharp static in them, all tingly. Fuck.
“Shit, I’ve never panicked about air travel before.”
“It’s okay, you’ve had a terrible week. I think it’s pretty normal for your mind to start making things up. You’re stressed, and you’re on edge waiting for the next bad thing to happen. We can get through this.”
Lando flops down again, and Carlos immediately offers his hand. It’s calming to feel seen, and his boyfriend isn’t just telling him to shut the fuck up and stop being silly. Carlos hasn’t ever done that. He always listens and understands how he’s feeling. Especially when his anxiety likes to convince him of the worst possible things.
He takes a deep breath. “You’re right. We’ll be fine, and then I can relax again once we’re there.”
Carlos kisses his hand and then cups his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
An attendant comes over to them, and Lando psyches himself up for the flight ahead, only to look at Carlos and throw his hands up once she finishes speaking.
Their flight is cancelled, and Lando wants to scream.
He gives up.
Refuses to get out of bed to do anything.
He’s warm, safe, and – short of a meteorite hitting the place or it catching on fire – not risking anything nefarious happening.
He pushes Carlos out for his usual routine, opting to stay where he is and wallow. His boyfriend tries to coax him out, but his body’s too heavy and his head hurts. Putting on his sleep playlist, he buries himself beneath the sheets and lets the time pass him by.
Soon enough, though, his bodily functions rear their ugly heads, and he’s forced to leave his sanctuary to relieve himself. It’s fine, he can handle a quick visit to the bathroom.
Rubbing his eyes, he staggers across the room to the ensuite, and everything is fine. He manages perfectly, fuzzy head and lead limbs making things slower, but without incident.
It’s on his way back out that it happens.
He trips, and with his reaction times not as quick, he’s unable to stop himself from colliding with the edge of the door. It’s a hard hit, his face stings, and he screams in pain. His legs buckle beneath him, and then he’s down on the tiled floor.
His hands are rubbing his face so he doesn’t see Carlos approaching, but he hears him, feels soft hands peeling his own away. Lando’s silently crying, tears escaping without his permission. He’s so fucking done.
Carlos carefully hauls him to his feet, a warm hand securely wrapped around his waist as he cups Lando’s cheek to examine him. He hisses, trying to turn away, but Carlos only wants to help, so he lets him.
They dress him in some joggers and a hoodie, and then he’s sat at the table with a bag of frozen peas against his face while Carlos takes him through a concussion check. He passes, but Carlos warns he’s probably gonna have a black eye. Great.
He nibbles on the food Carlos makes him, sips dutifully on his water, and takes some pain meds. His boyfriend offers to tuck him back into bed, but Lando refuses, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.
Instead, they cuddle up on the sofa and watch his favourite movie, Lando wishing the week to be well and truly over already.
Carlos is already gone when he wakes up.
He doesn’t mind so much as he feels less ashamed for staying in bed, but he’d wanted them both to have a lazy day.
He hears the apartment door shut, and it’s clearly Carlos returning from his bike ride as he can hear distant noises from the kitchen. Maybe he can convince him to come back to bed after his shower. They were supposed to be in Glastonbury now but after their flight was cancelled for impromptu maintenance, Lando gave up trying, not wishing to tempt anything else befalling him.
The bedroom door opens, but Lando doesn’t roll over to greet him. Carlos sets something down on his bedside table before the lamp turns on, and Lando stirs at the abrupt change in brightness.
Something smells amazing.
The mattress dips, and Carlos is stroking his hair, coaxing him awake so he can sit up. Eyes adjusting to the light and being more awake, he sees the tray on the bedside table, set up with some food. He recognises it immediately. Carlos didn’t make it.
“You brought me breakfast in bed?” he asks, blushing. He adjusts himself against the headboard so Carlos can place the tray in his lap. It’s his favourite poached eggs and avocado on toast, with the tomato chutney and slices of orange on the side.
From his favourite café. And Carlos wasn’t in his cycling gear like he’d thought, he was in a jumper and jeans. He’d really been out to bring back Lando some breakfast from his favourite place.
“I wanted to cheer you up,” Carlos says as Lando kisses him in thanks. “You deserve a bit of pampering today.”
“That’s so sweet, thank you.”
“My pleasure. I’ll go and get mine, and we can eat together.”
Lando waits for a minute as Carlos brings in his own tray. A plate of pancakes, fruit, and a coffee he’d definitely made from the machine in the kitchen. They tuck in and chat, and Lando finds himself smiling easily. He’d wanted a lazy day, and so far this was perfect.
“I have some things for you,” Carlos says as he sets their trays aside on the desk.
“You got me some presents? Carlos, I don’t–”
“– It’s just something small, don’t worry.” He hands over a gift-wrapped box. “Something I feel like you need right now.”
Curious as to what it could be, Lando opens it carefully, gasping when he takes off the lid and sees what’s inside. It’s two matching ceramic frogs, a main one and a smaller one on a keychain. Brightly coloured, mosaic in pattern, Lando carefully brings the main one out so he can see it closer.
“My mother sent them to me as soon as she heard everything happening with you this week. It’s for luck and good fortune. The keyring is for your bag, I know you like those.”
“They’re beautiful.” Lando finds himself welling up as he rubs his fingers over the keychain. “One for the apartment and one to take with me everywhere. That’s so thoughtful, Carlos, fuck. Thank you.”
He reaches out, and Carlos moves closer so they can hug, tears seeping into his jumper as Carlos rubs his back.
“And I sorted out your car, too. It’s back in your garage with your other cars. Everything is fixed and sorted. I’m not sure they like me much for insisting on not paying, but they were civil enough to refund your deposit.”
Lando laughs as he draws back and wipes his eyes. “You can be scary sometimes.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Definitely. Fuck, you didn’t need to do all of this for me, though.”
Carlos cups his face, mindful of Lando’s black eye. “I said I wanted to pamper you today. I meant it. I don’t want you worrying about anything.”
Lando smiles and kisses him with everything he has.
It is indeed a lazy day for him, for after being treated to breakfast in bed and his new lucky charms, he’s carried to the bathroom and helped into the tub. His boyfriend then washes his hair and his entire body while Lando lies back and enjoys the sensations, breathing in the essential oils Carlos put in the water. He then joins him, and they cuddle until the water’s cold.
He feels energised and fresh. He’s able to get dressed, they change the sheets, and they video call Reyes. Lando wants to cry again as he thanks her profusely, and she just calls him her favourite son-in-law. Carlos blushes at that, and Lando kisses his cheek with a grin.
They’ll get married one day.
They’re cuddling on the sofa with a funny TV show on when he hears the knock at the door. Confused, he asks Carlos if he’s expecting anyone, who just shrugs and tells him to go and see.
Opening the apartment door, his jaw drops as he sees his family standing there. His parents, his siblings, and his nieces.
“What the fuck!” he yells out, hugging his mum and dad before inviting them in so he can greet them all properly.
He hugs and kisses his sisters, who give him understanding smiles, then he’s attack-hugged by his nieces, and he sits Mila up on the counter before scooping up Athena so they can both cuddle him. Oli pats his back, and Lando invites him to join in the hug with his kids.
Carlos is standing in the doorway, and Lando knows this is his doing, so he mouths out a thank you as Athena clings to him. His boyfriend blushes and smiles fondly back, before he’s brought into the greetings by Mum and Dad.
They won’t let him host, as per Carlos’ pampering, so he sits with them all in the lounge, Mila engaging him in conversation that only three-year-olds could. Despite the week he’s had, everything today has more than made up for it. To have all of his loved ones here, his chest is full and warm, he’s lighter and smiling more easily. He’s not waiting for the other shoe to drop, and he’s able to count himself lucky for how loved he is.
Once everyone is settled and he’s checked in with his mum and dad that they can dip out for an hour, he leads Carlos out to his garage, and they take the Miura out for a drive. He winds the windows down and breathes in the fresh air, Carlos’ hand in his, as they wind through the narrow roads.
Stopping at a viewpoint up near the golf course, they get out and sit on the bonnet, looking out at the expanse of Mediterranean below. It’s chilly, but the sky is clear, and Lando takes a few minutes to just breathe.
“Not quite the start to living with me you were expecting, huh?”
“Lando–”
“–Sorry. I think I just can’t believe you’re still here and haven’t run away. And not only that, but you’ve helped me all week like it’s nothing, and I know you always have. I think it’s just hitting me harder now that we live together. I’d have all my bad days on my own before, and now I can lean on you, and you’ll catch me. It’s new.”
Carlos puts his arms around him and kisses his temple. Lando leans into him, resting his head on his shoulder.
“We support each other, mi vida.”
Love of my life, Carlos has told him before. His breath hitches as the enormity of it sinks in. This is their life now. Mutual strength and support, through the best and worst of times, for the rest of their lives. Together. He cups Carlos’ jaw and draws him closer.
“Para siempre,” he whispers into the kiss.