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“I love you.”
Charles felt like the words stumbled over his lips without any permission, like if someone else had said them instead of him, through him, on his voice. He completely lost control of what was happening around him, and his body seemed to give it all up under the crushing weight of doubt on his shoulder. Watching Carlos’ expression turning into something even more unreadable, with lips pressed into a thin line and eyes going wide, didn’t help either. His red t-shirt with the prancing horse on it suddenly felt way too tight and way too warm, like if he was wearing a puffy jacket on the beach, in the middle of august. But Charles managed to keep it together, if that was even possible at that moment.
His gaze wandered around his shoes a couple of times before he opened his mouth again, to apologize, to say something, anything, but he just simply couldn’t. He said the truth, there was no point in denying it, even if he really wanted to.
Instead, it was Carlos who took the conversation in his hands, still a bit stunned by his teammate’s worlds. Charles’ sweet voice echoed in the back of his skull, with all the sticky, uncomfortable and nervous feelings it has carried all along. He felt somewhat guilty, because he caused the whole situation, even if it wasn’t actually his fault.
“I’ve never expected such an ending for this conversation, to be honest” Carlos said jokingly, willing to chase away the anxiousness from where it was planted deep in the monegasque.
“Me neither.” Mumbled Charles under his breath. He was fidgeting with his fingers, carelessly hitting the metal ring on his pinky with his thumb.
“But I love you too”
And this was the end for Charles. He froze for a second, and then looked up at Carlos, with an unsaid ‘this better not be some crazy dream’ in his gaze. And Jesus Christ, he could feel his heart pounding violently in his chest, almost hitting a hole into his ribcage.
It was real. Fuck, it was actually real.
Carlos looked at him fondly, a little smirk appearing on his full lips - he knew exactly how Charles was ready to collapse onto the floor anytime. That’s why he stepped a little closer to the man in front of him after a few seconds of silently staring at each other, and placed his hand to the side of Charles’ face. The monegasque immediately melted into his touch, like a piece of wax under a lit-up candle. He felt fucked up, but also at home, relaxed, similar to his favorite blanket covering his shoulders on a chilly winter night.
Carlos leaned closer, narrowing the small gap of air and fuzzy feelings between them. Charles could feel his breath stuck in his lungs, Carlos’ perfume crawling into his nose slowly, erasing every remaining thought from his mind. Carlos looked gorgeous, staring at him with those big, chocolate brown eyes of his, hiding under long, dark eyelashes. Charles felt like drowning in his presence, let alone, from a distance where the air from this beautiful man’s mouth was constantly hitting his skin.
The spaniard’s gaze met with his for the last time, then Carlos captured his lips in a sweet, wary kiss, nothing really just a slow, overwhelming dance of their mouths.
Charles felt like his whole body caught on fire as Carlos’ hands traveled down to the back of his neck, completely forgetting about the press conference they should be at, instead of delicately licking into each other’s mouth in the spaniard’s driver room.
But it meant so much, explained feelings that they could’ve never say out loud, and most importantly, reassured them that this wasn’t just some scene from their twisted imagination.
It was real, so real it was almost burning, but with passion.