Chapter Text
Singapore, Thursday
In Azerbaijan, Carlos and Lando were able to close the gap to Max, coming in fourth and second, respectively, while Max settled in ninth. Oscar and Charles both crashed in the castle section on the last lap, which seemed like karma. Lewis had taken the win, and Lando had made it to the podium, much to his delight. As the season neared the end, everything started feeling more real. Ferrari had stopped talking to Carlos as much as they anticipated the car’s design for next season, and he had begun receiving a steadier stream of emails from Red Bull Racing. There was no way Checo’s poor form was helping him keep his seat, and Christian only agreed not to officially announce Carlos until the end of the season out of respect for Daniel and Checo.
And then Singapore, a track Carlos loved, and his 200th race start. It signaled ten years of competing, a milestone most drivers didn’t achieve. However, among all the excitement, the small country brought unwanted memories of Charles to the forefront of Carlos’ mind. Last year, he celebrated a 1-2 win with Lando, showering his best friends with champagne, but his life was so different back then. Not only was his relationship with Charles strong, but at the time, he was the only non-Red Bull driver to win in a Max-dominated season. If you asked Carlos last year, he wouldn’t have imagined being second in the championship, rapidly chasing Max down for the title. He couldn’t imagine ending his time with Ferrari, being replaced with the Lewis Hamilton, returning to Red Bull, and on top of it all, he couldn’t imagine a life without Charles. Carlos dropped his luggage by the door as Lando flopped on the bed, tired of all the traveling, and looking forward to their three-week break before Austin. “Can we repeat last year?” he mumbled into the pillow. "But reverse. I'm dying for a race win."
“Of course, Amorcito. I wouldn’t want anything else,” Carlos said as he unpacked his clothes. They were both drained from media day and the jet lag, so they had grabbed an early dinner with Alex and George and tried an array of street foods. Carlos had paid as another apology to the couple for ruining their engagement party, and now, he just wanted to shower and go to sleep.
As Carlos turned the water on and felt the cool water on his back. He thought about today's interview with SkySports, which still left him with a pit in his stomach.
———
“How do you think you will compare to Max this weekend?” the interviewer had asked.
“Are we still using Max as the benchmark?” Carlos had laughed, his eyes flicking to Mia, the PR manager. “Anything can happen this season.”
“Yes, but compared to a person as determined as Max, it’s hard to compete against him.” The interviewer pressed for a juicy line. "You want to beat Max, don't you?"
“I want to beat everyone, not just Max. Every race, I do my best to win. Ferrari has always been strong around this track, and we have proven ourselves to be quite strong on high-speed tracks like this one, Baku, and Monza.” Carlos just wanted to keep the momentum going for a few more races.
“And how is Charles taking to this new run of form? Where you have been excelling, your teammate has struggled to find his footing with the upgrades.” The reporter seemed desperate, but Carlos couldn’t add fuel to the fire. "And when will we find out where you are going next season?"
"You will all find out before next season starts."
———
“Can I join you?”
Startled from his reminiscing, Carlos didn’t notice that Lando had wandered into the bathroom. “Sure.” He increased the temperature of the water, steaming the glass as Lando got undressed and hopped into the shower, resting his head on Carlos’s chest. They stood there, alone and quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of the water. But it brought Carlos back to another memory.
———
Singapore, 2023
“They’re sacrificing Leclerc,” George shouted over the team radio, frustrated by the strategy. He needed to get past this bit of traffic to win. He had the pace and tires. But that opportunity never came as on the last lap, George made contact with the wall.
When Carlos heard the message after the race, with the knowledge the strategy calls in real-time, he felt sick knowing it was true. He almost couldn’t face Charles, knowing his partner would have- no, should have been standing on the podium beside him. Charles never outwardly seemed angry when Carlos would outperform him, but in a season like 2023, where non-Red Bull race wins were impossible, it seemed like Charles and Ferrari would have been the more storybook option. Carlos didn’t mind Lando finishing second; he liked having the McLaren driver by his side, defending beautifully against the two Mercedes, recalling their time as teammates in McLaren. Still, he wished Charles had been in third place instead of Lewis.
That night, Charles and Carlos stopped for dinner at a street vendor who didn’t recognize them despite the head-to-toe Ferrari garb. To the rest of the world, they were Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, Formula One drivers for Ferrari. But to them, it was just Charles and Carlos—two people in love.
They talked about the weather, their plans for next week, whether they'll spend Christmas day with Charles or Carlos's family, anything but the race until they returned to the hotel. “I’m sorry about the race, Cariño,” Carlos said once in the sanctuary of their shared suite. When Charles didn’t respond immediately, he didn’t pry, taking off his shirt and ready to shower.
Charles glanced up from removing his jewelry, seemingly shaken from his thoughts. “Why Chéri? You won. That’s what matters. The team needed this.” He walked over and wrapped Carlos in a hug, resting his head on Carlos’ shoulder and kissing the nape of his neck. “I’ll always be proud of you Cahlos.”
Carlos could feel the blood rushing to his groin. “I love you,” he breathed. "Te amo, Cariño, but I need to take a shower,” Carlos said as Charles traced the circles on his back. “Come with me.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Charles pulled his shirt over his head with one quick motion, still pressed against Carlos. He wasn’t fully aware how his fingers managed to unbutton his jeans, which were discarded and kicked against the wall along with his underwear as they stumbled into the shower, steaming the glass. Carlos held Charles against the wall, kissing him passionately, leaving dark marks on his neck. They definitely had a photo shoot soon, and their makeup artists would not be pleased. Charles moaned as he nibbled lightly at Carlos' lips and could feel himself getting hard.
“Are you sure?” Carlos asked as his hands moved lower, tracing the hard lines of Charles’ abs, then his hips, and finally…
“Fuck, yes, chéri,” Charles melted into the Spaniard, running his fingers through Carlos' hair and letting out a deep moan. "I need you inside me, maintenant."
After, they showered properly and climbed into bed together, laughing and talking about anything they could think of, Charles’s thighs aching in the best way.
———
Singapore, 2024
Why was he thinking of Charles now? Carlos and Lando fucked in the shower, crawling wordlessly into bed afterward, like always.
The next day, Carlos was on fire once again, seen as the fastest car in free practice, qualifying pole on Saturday. Caco and the rest of team 55 were beyond excited for him discussing the possibility of his first grand slam, something that had only ever been a possibility for Charles with the Scuderia. Lando was also rather excited for Carlos, experiencing another promising weekend, as both Red Bulls, facing the same problems as Singapore the year before, failed to queue up, matching a sandbagged Aston Martin in pace rather than Mercedes, Ferrari, and McLaren.
Sunday night brought the highly anticipated race, with Carlos obviously the favored to win, but Lewis and George could once again be threatening. When the lights went out, all Carlos thought about was the checkered flag at the end of the 62 laps. He just had to hold everyone behind him and get the fastest lap. Simple.
From the moment Carlos floored it off the line, he was under pressure from Lewis, but luckily, Oscar was also threatening to take Lewis’s position, meaning the Brit couldn’t take any risky moves against Carlos. Charles was somewhere behind Oscar, fighting off Lando and George, creating a gap to the rest of the field. Eventually, Carlos escaped with enough of a gap to be able to pit under safety car conditions and keep his lead. Once the pit window opened, he needed a safety car.
Immediately, Oscar drove into the pits, securing a new set of tires he hoped would be fast enough to catch Carlos. However, just as Lewis exited, somewhere behind Lando, Lance still lost the car, careening into the wall.
“Safety car deployed, Carlos. Box, box,” Ricky said calmly.
“Will we lose position?” Carlos asked.
“Negative. You will exit P-One.”
Relief washed over Carlos as he thanked Ricky and the pit crew for a fast stop, rejoining a few seconds ahead of Lando. The McLaren was still yet to pit, probably on another tire strategy. Carlos hoped that Lando’s race improved so they could celebrate a 1-2 finish together, but it seemed unlikely more and more.
Unfortunately, Lewis’s gamble paid off, and Lando’s didn’t. The Mercedes driver cruised past to a clean second-place finish while Lando tumbled down the order, finishing just off the podium in fourth. Oscar joined Carlos and Lewis on the podium as Charles finished in P6. The Spanish and Italian anthems were welcome finale, along with karaoke from his engineers.
But as Carlos was bleeding red, in hot pursuit of the championship, Lando was cold to the touch, icy to the person he would throw away his life for. Despite the heat of Singapore, it seemed the fire between Carlos and Lando had flickered out, and it was a three-week break until Austin.