notf1obsessed

[notf1obsessed]

a little flirting hurt no one (Charles Leclerc x Carlos Sainz)

Carlos is hopelessly in love with Lando, but isn't sure how to break it to him. That is until Charles comes up with a plan, to make Lando jealous. Fake dating. But what they don't expect is for their fake relationship to turn real.

Chapter 19: Pretty when you cry

side a/n: I was meant to release this way earlier sorry abt that.

A/N: IM BACK FROM THE DEAD (for now). so super super sorry about all that, a shit ton happened in this past month which kinda prevented me from updating (and also my laziness). I'm on vacation rn but it won't be long and only about 2 weeks. I'll hopefully get back into my habit of posting every 2 weeks if all goes well. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! (It's pretty short just to move things along but I promise next one will be longer)

Don't say you need me when,

You leave and leave again,

I'm stronger than all my men,

Except for you,

- Pretty when you cry - Lana Del Rey

________________________________________________

When Charles awoke that morning, he found a weight holding his waist down, and an extra leg sprawled over his. Turning his head, he was reminded of the embarrassing scene (in his opinion at least) that had unfolded the night prior. Flustering, Charles quickly rolled away from Carlos's grasp, thankful to the fact Carlos hadn't woken up.

Sitting up, the Monegasque realized there was no escaping this, he was in the middle of the sea for gods sake. So doing what any rational person would do, he got up, brushed his teeth, and plopped back onto the couch phone in hand. His finger mindlessly scrolled through the endless masses of content, passing the time until Carlos woke up and they could go get breakfast.

Much like Charles, Oscar also happened to be awake; barely getting any sleep that night. The scene in the bathroom kept replaying in his head, guilt crippling over him, as if he was the one who had crashed his lips onto Carlos's. Alas, he didn't want to worry Lando, so he kept his doll face on, not a challenging task for him considering he's had to do it many times before in media.

Finally, the Spaniard eyes fluttered open, rubbing circles at them as he yawned.

"Good morning," he said as he got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom.

"Good morning to you too," Charles tried to repeat with the least amount of anxiety in his voice, clearly failing as he cringed at the way he said it.

Unlike Charles, Carlos didn't seem to have an ounce of worry or care in the world, as if cuddling your teammate was the most normal everyday thing to do.

"Are you okay?" The Spaniard asked after brushing his teeth, "after what happened last night."

"Yes, yes perfectly fine you don't have to worry," Charles stated in panic, embarrassment filling him.

"Well you can always talk to me Charles, I'm your teammate and also your friend."

The reassurance made Charles feel a little less flustered and a little warmer, knowing that he could trust and count on somebody was a nice feeling to have.

"Now cmon we need to get to breakfast," he added, grabbing a set of clothes and retreating back into the bathroom to change, "I've already texted Lando we'll be down in 20."

After taking turns changing, the two drivers made their way downstairs and to the restaurant entrance, which to their surprise, was relatively empty.

"There you are!" Lando stated joyfully, "we've been waiting for you two!"

Laughing, Carlos playfully snapped in return, "I said we'd be down here in 20, so impatient."

As they took their seats, Charles couldn't help but notice the tired expression on Oscar's face, dark bags beneath his eyes that barely seemed to open. He's seen this sate before, many times, in himself.

There was something up with Oscar.

Although he knew there was something worrying Oscar , he decided not to approach the subject around a group of people, especially when he knew the Australian didn't trust him enough.

Lando chewed at the plate of hash browns and eggs he had brought, with Carlos and Charles opting for pancakes and eggs.

Oscar however, barely had any food on his plate, to which Charles was quick to notice.

This was more serious than he thought.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom, be back in a sec," said the Australian after swirling his food around his plate.

After he had made his way to the bathroom, Charles decided to interfere.

"Me too," he added, knowing for a fact the Aussie wasn't going to the bathroom for the right reasons, let alone any reason. He needed to figure what was wrong before it escalated any further.

Making his way through the restaurant and to the bathroom, he was weary to not startle the younger one, after all he needed to make sure Oscar could trust him.

The Aussie was stood facing the mirror, hands on sink and lost in thought.

"Hey mate," the Monegasque said as he approached the spot next to the other one. He seemed to snap out of thought at the sound of Charles, yet he gave no reply.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he almost immediately replied, voice full of nervousness and doubt.

"I know something's wrong, you can't keep lying to yourself and me," Charles stated, feeling worry for the boy as if he was his own son.

Knowing there was no escaping this, the other let out a sigh, though he wasn't going to just blurt out the full truth.

"I'm just...feeling a lot of weight on my shoulders recently, like this guilt that doesn't belong to me is still burdening me."

"Do you know what it is?" Charles pushed, wanting to get the answer out of him.

Although it was clear he pushed too far as the younger seemed to tense up and divert his gaze.

Knowing he had crossed a boundary, there was no getting more answers today, he would have to earn his further trust.

"Well if you ever want to talk about it, I'm always here," the Monegasque stated as his final words, stepping away from the marble sink top and towards the exit, "Cya at the table, if you still feel like eating."

The Aussie nodded his head as a salutation, still not looking him in the eye.

While he still didn't feel comfortable telling Charles, it was nice to know someone he could count on .

It was nice to know someone else who cared about him.

[notf1obsessed]

love on display (Charles Leclerc X Max Verstappen)

It all starts with a bet.

Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen, arguably the biggest rivals on the F1 grid, are dared they couldn't spend a day with each other, let alone build a solid relationship.

And who were they to turn down a challenge?

Chapter 2: Last Friday Night

There's a stranger in my bed, there's a pounding in my head,

Glitter all over the room, plink flamingos in the pool,

I smell like a mini bar, DJ's passed out in the yard,

Barbies on the barbecue, this a hickey or a bruise?

- Last Friday Night, Katy Perry

_____________________________________________

After swiftly maneuvering through the crowd, Max pulled Charles into a night black car, which the younger one would later find out was an Uber Max had ordered before hand.

Placing himself beside the Monegasque, the older boy instructed the other to tell the Uber driver his address, which came as great difficulty considering his brain had short circuited at that moment.

Every inch of contact between both of their skin made the younger's body light ablaze, the alcohol amplifying the bitter feeling.

Looking out the window, the boy diverted his attention to the night sky above. Small flashing stars painted the canvas of black. The full moon hung lowly, observing the busy setting of Monaco; the home of glamour.

As the car swayed left and right, the liquids in Charles began to swirl as well, causing his face to go a sickening green colour, belching slightly.

Noticing the worsening state of the boy beside him, the older boy re instructed the driver in front with some slurred French. His hand

moved to support the boy's back, rubbing circles in order to help soothe the pain.

While the action didn't help numb the pain much, the thought of Max caring for him certainly brought some color to his cheeks.

After what seemed like an eternity to Charles, the car finally pulled up to an apartment complex, unfamiliar to him.

Almost immediately opening the door, he belted out of the car and ran to the building's door, only then realizing this wasn't where he lived. Just in time it seemed, the older boy re assured him that he hadn't gone mad.

"This is my apartment, you're too sick to stay the night alone at your's," he clarified as he opened the door.

Charles groaned at the thought of having to spend the entire night at Max's apartment, his rival's apartment.

Stepping aside to let him in, the Dutchman lead the Monegasque to his apartment, coming as great difficulty considering Charles continued on stumbling.

Finally reaching the apartment, Charles almost immediately sprinted into the bathroom (which took him quite some time to find considering it was his first time here.) Leaning against the toilet, he emptied his guts, releasing some of the previous pain that had been haunting him.

Noticing the puking boy, Max asked if he needed anything, because while Charles might be his rival, he is still human.

"I'm good," Charles began, but was quickly cut off by his own vomiting.

Realizing the boy would need some time in the bathroom, the older one disappeared into a nearby room, presumably to get ready for bed.

After an eternity of vomiting until he had nothing left to empty, Charles exited the bathroom, head still spinning but his liver in a slightly better condition.

Noticing the boy who had just exited, Max moved to guide him to a nearby bedroom, pressing on his back to lead him, careful not to push him too hard and stir his stomach again.

Opening the door to the room, the Dutchman pointed to a bed that lay against the wall, "This is where you'll sleep for the night, bathrooms on the left if you need it."

Rubbing circles onto his eyes, the other boy plopped himself face flat on the bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes.

Max laughed at the stupidity of Charles sleeping in his filth soaked clothes, causing the other boy to shoot daggers at him through his eyes.

"What," he mumbled, mouth still half covered by the bed sheets.

"You're really gonna sleep in those alcohol drenched clothes?"

Charles rolled his eyes before smacking his head back against the pillow, hearing one last voice before the door shut, "You can take your clothes off, I'm not going to be stalking you like a pervert at night."

Considering Max's words for a short minute, he stripped down to his boxers, this time properly getting into bed. He placed his phone on the bed side counter before slipping under the covers, nuzzling his face deep into the soft pillow.

It didn't take long before for the boy to drift off into deep sleep, tiredness overwhelming him.

____________________________________________________________

Awoken by the light seeping through the windows, Max's eyes fluttered open, immediately met with a blurred memory as to what happened last night. Lifting the covers off his body, the boy quickly put on a pair of pants and a shirt that were on the floor.

Opening the door, Max made his way to the kitchen, fetching some paracetamol and a glass of water. Careful not to disturb the sleeping boy, he entered Charles's room and placed the glass of water and aspirin on his bedside table. As he did so, he noticed a new notification on the boy's phone, it was from his text messages.

Don't snoop Max, the angel on his shoulder told him, but curiosity got the best of him.

Picking the phone up, he noticed the text message wasn't from a person, but a group chat:

"Lecstappen Bet".

Trying to open the message, he was met with the remembrance that Charles had a password. Practically sprinting to his bedroom, Max snatched his phone off the table, once again seeing a message from a group chat, "Lecstappen Bet".

Opening the message, he scrolled to the beginning of the chat, which took quite some time considering the amount of text messages they had sent.

Pierre added Max, Charles, Daniel, Carlos, Lando, Oscar, Logan, Alex to the group.

Pierre changed group chat name to "Lecstappen Bet".

Pierre: Bonjour bitches

Daniel: tf is that gc name

Pierre: i kinda made a bet with max that he and Charles could never date each other

Daniel: poor maxs wallet

Pierre: yh so I'm here to make sure I don't lose em 1000 dollars cus like he was pretty serious yesterday

Carlos: and why did u drag us into this

Oscar: yh why did u

Carlos: stfu Piastri

Oscar: fuck u

Lando: I'm not complaining I love drama

Pierre: cus I needed witnesses

Alex: tf is this court

Pierre: yes just roll along albon

Feeling slightly enraged, the Dutchman decided to also have a word in this.

Max: so what r u gonna do

Pierre: would u look at that, the man himself is here

Pierre: since u took Charles home with you yesterday take a selfie with him to prove it

Max: he's sleeping

Pierre: cmon u need a better alibi than that

Deciding to prove the irritating French man wrong, he strode towards Charles's bedroom once again, this time leaning on the floor beside his bed. He snapped a quick selfie, sending it to the group chat in hopes to humiliate Pierre even more.

Max: sent an attachment

Max: would u look at that French boy he is here w me

Daniel: lmaooo he js logged off 😭😭

Max: coward 🤣

Lifting his gaze from his screen, the Dutchman's eyes traced over the younger boy's features, examining him closely. His gaze wandered downwards, a thought that he would've never said crossing his mind,

Nice ass Charles.

[notf1obsessed]

love on display (Charles Leclerc x Max Verstappen)

It all starts with a bet.

Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen, arguably the biggest rivals on the F1 grid, are dared they couldn't spend a day with each other, let alone build a solid relationship.

And who were they to turn down a challenge?

Chapter 1: Dollhouse

Picture picture, smile for the picture,

Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?

Everyone thinks that we're perfect,

Please don't let them look through the curtains,

- Dollhouse, Melanie Martinez

____________________________________________________________

The dim light illuminated the lively dance floor below, swaying bodies moving along to whatever beats the DJ generated. The air reeked of the combined smells of alcohol and sweat, an unpleasant odor to those in the club. Thankfully, the people were far too intoxicated to pick up or pay attention to the smell, and so was Charles.

Downing another drink, probably vodka or beer, the Monegasque's eyes began to roam the lively club. He had been dragged along by his friend Pierre, who by now, was probably off grinding on some man's ass.

It was no secret to those who knew him that he was gay after all, if anyone observed his interactions outside the grid, they'd believe so too. As for Charles, well, his love life has been pretty shit for as far as he's aware; focusing more on racing than finding a lover.

Suddenly, he was interrupted from his search for Pierre by none other than the star of the party.

Max Verstappen.

The older one said nothing at first, simply sitting down on the stool next to him. Charles felt his tongue grow bitter, the sight of his rival (or enemy rather) draining any alcohol he had previously felt in his veins.

It was also no secret how much tension lingered between the two, their on track rivalry burning the gasoline that spilt between them.

"Nice drive," Max commented as he took a sip of his beer, clearly meaning to piss off Charles as he knew well enough that the younger had DNF'ed that day.

Just as Charles was about to retort with a snarky reply, a voice snapped the elastic tension that was tightening between them, "Charles! There you are!"

It was times like these that Charles was actually grateful for his twink best friend.

As Pierre approached the two and took a seat next to Charles, the Monegasque took a good look at him, examining his features. His hair was much more ruffled than it had been before, his face red and flushed with his mouth hung agape; small pants escaping his lips; a clear indication of what had just happened.

Feeling the burn of Max's gaze on his skin, the younger reverted his attention back to the Dutchman's ocean eyes, causing him to immediately look down.

For some reason unknown to man, Pierre burst into giggles, causing both of the men to shoot menacing glares at him, a way of asking, "what the fuck?"

Realizing eyes were on him, Pierre clarified, "You guys are so unbearable with each other."

Rolling his eyes in response, Charles took it completely lighthearted. Max, not so much.

"What do you mean by that?" Max pushed further as he watched Pierre continuing to suffocate on his own laughs.

"You guys can't even stand to be in the same room, let alone build a solid relationship," the French man replied.

Watching the expression on Max's face scrunch into a questioning demeanor, as if he was unaware of the pure hate that mingled between him and Charles, Pierre decided he wasn't going to stand down from his rather simple statement.

"Don't believe me?" he questioned, grabbing a random person by the arm and pulling the poor soul into this meaningless debate, "What do you think of Max and Charles's relationship?"

Looking lost for a second, the person, who was presumably a red-bull employee, replied after stuttering over their words, "It's horrible,"  proceeding to flee as soon as the driver's touch left their arm and off to some crowded corner of the room.

"See what I mean?" stated Pierre, beginning to feel sorry for the soul they had dragged into this dilemma, "You two could never be in a solid relationship. Hah, imagine you two dating, oh my god."

Pierre couldn't finish his sentence before bursting out into laughter at the preposterousness of his thought, causing Charles to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"In fact, I bet you 1000 dollars you couldn't."

Once again, Max didn't take it with such light heartedness.

"You know what," he began, placing his drink on the counter and wearing his stern expression, "You don't have to imagine, we're gonna be the best couple on the grid before you know it."

Charles spat out his drink almost immediately, cringing of the thought of him and Max even being a couple.

To add to his 'mild' panic, Max scooted a chair over, practically glueing himself to Charles.

The Monegasque felt his skin burn in every place that stood in contact with the older one's body, a sensation that hid pleasure underneath the pain.

Before he knew it, he felt the hot breath of Max's mouth against his cheek, sending shivers down his spine, "Cmon Charlie, it's not like it'll be hard."

What was not hard in the Dutchman's opinion was a life or death situation to Charles, his breathing hitched and rapid. After what felt like hours, the close proximity between them furthered, allowing him to breathe normally again.

The older one suddenly stood up, placing his hand in Charles's before he could protest.

"You're far too drunk to drive home, schatje," Max continued, making sure Pierre could hear him, "I'll take you home."

And it was times like these Charles wanted to murder his twink best friend.

Charles felt his face flush under the pet name, wanting to kill his body for reacting that way to a rival's comment. He was thankful for the dim lighting that concealed his blush though, as the simple touch of Max made him light ablaze, enemy or not.

Before beginning to maneuver through the crowd, Max shouted one last thing towards Pierre's direction, who was still left in a state of confusion as to how or why max had agreed to his rather jokingly bet.

"And take care of those 1000 dollars, okay? We'll need them soon."

[notf1obsessed]

landoscar silverstone '23 back touch vs landoscar monaco '24 hug

[notf1obsessed]

waves wash our past: ln4 x reader (request)

Your brother is childhood friends with Lando Norris, the world famous F1 drivers. The feelings for him always lingered, but after he moved away from town there was no chance for it to work out. That is until he invites you and your brother on a cruise ship trip for the holidays. Can you put aside the past relationship and learn to love him again?

chapter 1: ocean eyes

No fair,

You really know how to make me cry,

When you gimme those ocean eyes,

I'm scared, I've never fallen from quite this height,

Fallen into your ocean eyes,

Those ocean eyes,

- ocean eyes, Billie Eilish

_______________________________________________________________

You stare at the ceiling for god knows how many hours, unable to sleep but too tired to get up and do anything. Usually, you would enjoy hanging around with Lando, but knowing the pain of this being temporary made everything so bittersweet. You've learnt from the past, there's no way around dating a driver, it's always temporary. And who could blame them really? Long distance relationships never worked out, the love would fade eventually. And considering their loyalty, it was a matter of time before they slept around with a hotter model they found at a bar.

Deciding to make the most out of your inability to sleep, you get up quietly from your bed, careful not to disturb Lando in the twin bed next to you. Because for some god forsaken reason, the f1 driver could not find an extra room to book. And since your brother was in a separate room with his girlfriend, you were stuck here with him.

How great, you thought as you entered the room, sharing a room with the person you so happened go have fallen for; knowing you'd never be able to have him.

Creeping your way past his bed frame, you swiftly snatch a hoodie from the closet; far too cold outside in the chilly Monaco air. Slipping it on, you open the door, careful not to disturb the sleeping boy. As you wander through the hallways, it doesn't take long for you to find an elevator, pressing the ground floor button.

The ship's deck greets you with a brisk breeze, flashing stars igniting the sky above. The waning crescent's soft glow shone over the sea below, sleeping creatures inhabiting it.

You walk over to the ships railings, allowing your freezing hands to rest on the white, metal bar. A scene like this offers delightful refuge from the outside world, the calm sea and yourself.

"What are you doing here," a familiar voice disrupts the tranquility of the atmosphere, bringing a sweet and sour taste to your tongue as your brain immediately registers the person who had spoken, "It's far too cold out here."

Not turning to face Lando, you simply shrug in return. "Couldn't sleep," it was barely above a whisper, not wanting to extend the conversation much further and possibly give the Brit a hint.

But of course, the driver is the most vain person alive, as he walks over to join you at the railings, resting his elbows against the frame. You hold back the urge to roll your eyes, but instead, you keep a firm gaze on the waters in front.

"It's been so long since I've seen you, y/n," he says, voice tinted a tone of sadness. The sound of your name on his tongue made you angry and flushed at the same time, your brain telling you not to trust him, but he was still the boy you loved deep down in her heart, "you've been avoiding me like the plague."

You don't respond, staying quiet instead. It pains you to not be able to pour your heart to him right then and there, but you knew better to trust the same person who fooled you.

"It feels like our friendship fell apart."

Friendship? Is that what he really called everything that happened between us? You hold back the urge to scoff, telling yourself it was only a matter of minutes before he leaves.

"The sea's really pretty today," he states, attempting to start some small talk, clearly not taking the hint.

"Yeah," you simply state in response, your gaze now wandering from the sea to Lando's eyes, a mistake you would continue to make until you die, baring deeply into their ocean color.

It was times like these you wish you could turn back time, to the simple days of childhood. The days you would beg to tag along with your brother to Lando's house, the stolen moments you had with him when occasionally left alone.

But there is no more of that, you learnt that the hard way. Because why would Lando ever put anybody over his career. Your eyes begin to tear up at the remembrance of the thought.

He reverts his gaze from the sea back to your face, causing you to immediately wipe away your tears and face the waters, stern expression returning. You see the twitch of sadness in his eyes as he looks at you. You can feel the burning of his gaze on your skin, a mix of disappointment and heartbreak.

He takes his hands off the railing, taking a few steps back before turning towards the entrance of the ship.

"Don't spend too long out here."

You don't respond, instead staying quiet. It hurt you severely seeing the boy you loved in a state like this, but you weren't going to let his looks deceive you.

Not again.

[notf1obsessed]

a little flirting hurt no one (Carlos Sainz x Charles Leclerc)

Carlos is hopelessly in love with Lando, but isn't sure how to break it to him. That is until Charles comes up with a plan, to make Lando jealous. Fake dating. But what they don't expect is for their fake relationship to turn real.

Chapter 15: 6.18.18

There's no more stars to find, and I'm too far behind,

And I'd love to let you go, I'd love to let you go,

You're all that's on my mind, when i called a thousand times,

And id love to let you go, but i love you more and more than you could know,

- 6.18.18, Billie Eilish (unreleased)

__________________________________________________

"And what if I tell Lando," Oscar managed to choke out, the thought of his boyfriend crossing his mind. Something that had managed to slip his thoughts during all the shock.

Stopping for a brief moment, he turned to face Oscar, a fake pout tugging at his lips, "Do it." And with that, the pout reformed to a sly grin, "But you wouldn't want the whole grid finding out I stole your virginity, would you?"

Oscar's eyes blew open, stuttering over his words before managing to blurt out, "How would you know I was a virgin!?"

"Shush cabron," Carlos hissed, "Someone can hear you. And the reason I know is because you told me, estupido."

Looking confused for a minute, the Aussie searched his brain for a reason as to why he would tell Carlos, or when, or how for matter of fact. Seeing the confusion spluttered on the younger's face, the Spaniard clarified, "The night, I asked you after we finished-"

The thought of what they did that night made Oscar want to puke, the blood in his face retracting immediately into an extreme pale.

"if you had done this before, and you shook your head."

Regaining his thoughts, the Aussie hissed, "You wouldn't dare," his back straightening up against the wall.

"Watch me," and with that, he walked through the door.

"Fine! I won't tell Lando, just please don't tell anyone," he made sure to whisper the last part.

Head turning to shoulder, Carlos whispered loudly, "Good, now if you don't mind me I'll be taking a walk around the ship, need to get some fresh air."

Oscar had to bite back a snarky remark, instead opting for, "I think I've lost my enthusiasm to do that, I'll just get going back to my hotel room."

"Better for me."

A smirk played on Carlos's lips the entire journey, satisfied with the plan he had come up with during the span of the last hour. As he approached a silver railing, his hands leaned to rest on the metal bars, observing the beautiful and breath taking scene below.

The sun's deep orange hue painted the rather dim blue sky, igniting it with a similar fire that boiled within Oscar. Its luminous, ambient yellows stung across the deep blues of the ocean, offering light and refuge to the animals below, including the Aussie who indulged in it from his room, emotions blue as the ocean overflowing within him.

He could never escape Carlos, no matter how hard he tried. He would forever be the flame to his candle, burning him until he has no more to give. Always seeing how far their relationship can bend before it snaps and breaks. He would forever be the sun to his moon, a mere reflection of something better, always overshadowed.

Always a choice to Carlos, never the chosen. Why would he choose Oscar, why would anybody love him. In fact, Oscar had believed that he himself was unlovable, too stoic, until he found Lando - the only person who loved him no matter what.

But now, Carlos was trying to take it all away, and it seemed his plan was working. It wouldn't take long for him to lure back Oscar's heart into his hands, because the truth was, the attraction Oscar had felt for Carlos never faded, only placed aside.

The faster he could get Oscar to run back to him, the faster he'd have Lando.

And if one thing was sure about Carlos, he's willing to give up everything if he wants something.

Or someone, in Lando's case.

______________________________________________________

When Carlos got back to his hotel room, he found Charles laid out on the snow mattress, fast asleep and clearly exhausted. The Spaniard couldn't help but melt at the sight, moving over to pull the blanket over the Monegasque's body.

Flopping down onto a couch, it didn't take long for Carlos to fall asleep too, the bright sun now replaced with the waning crescent. Much in contrast, Oscar stayed awake, eyes blown open and staring at the ceiling. He hated lying to Lando like this, but was it really lying if Lando hadn't asked?

The Brit in question was currently lying next to him, curdled up into a small ball and snoring away in his fantasies; his innocent understanding of the world acting against him in this situation. Similarly, Charles laid sprawled out against the soft bed, distant from the cruel reality he lived in.

"You can go in now Charles," the nurse stated as she exited the hospital room.

Though maybe the reality he was envisioning currently was even worse.

Looking up from his intertwined fingers, Charles offered a worried look, his entire body shaking with fear and nervousness. Approaching the door, the boy slowly opened the door, careful not to disturb his exhausted father.

It pained him seeing his dad, his caregiver, his idol, in this condition. Tied up in wires and injections, on a hospital bed like this.

"Charles" his dad's thick accent spoke, opening his heavy eyelids to better look at his son, "How are you doing?"

Charles nodded his head. "Fine, came here to see you," he said taking a seat next to his dad, Hérve, "the doctors said you don't have much time left..." he could barely say the last words, eyes welling up with tears and throat thickening as he spoke them.

He placed his hand in his father's, the comforting touch something he'd miss forever, a touch and comfort nobody else would ever give him.

"Charles, Charles, are you okay?" A familiar voice brought him out of his nightmare. He turned over to his side which he had switched to during his sleep, opening his eyes to find tears spilling through his green pupils. The Spaniard was sitting on the edge of the bed, concern written all over his face.

"It's fine Carlos, go back to sleep," he choked out, voice coming through shaky and unstable.

Without saying anything, Carlos moved over to lay next to Charles, embracing him in a tight hold. The younger one buried his face into the crook of the other's neck, inhaling his sweet musk. Allowing the tears to spill, Charles instinctively tangled their legs together to get into a more comfortable position, unaware of what he was doing; for once, allowing his emotions to take over.

The closest touch he might get to his father's was his mother's.

And a new contender, Carlos.

[notf1obsessed]

umm guys…

[notf1obsessed]

a little flirting hurt no one (Carlos Sainz x Charles Leclerc)

Carlos is hopelessly in love with Lando, but isn't sure how to break it to him. That is until Charles comes up with a plan, to make Lando jealous. Fake dating. But what they don't expect is for their fake relationship to turn real.

Chapter 14: Memories

I wish that you would stay in my memories,

But you show up today, just to ruin things,

I wanna put you in the past 'cause I'm traumatized,

But you're not letting me do that,

- Memories, Conan Gray

_______________________________________________________________________________

Panting and flushing, Oscar's head dropped as he leaned against the wall; still trying to process what happened. His cheeks were coated in a  rosy pink, mouth hanging agape. His hair had fallen slightly due to Carlos's arm flattening it; he could still feel the burning sensation where his touch had been. Pulling away, the other one walked towards the sinks; hands dropping to rest on the marble top. His head tilted to one side, hair still perfectly combed back. Catching a glimpse of Oscar, peering at him through his eyelashes, he offered a fake smile. His eyes conveyed a mix of confusion and anger, eyebrows furrowed.

"What.." he mumbled, still flooded with confusion and shock, "Why did you do that?"

Shrugging in response, the Spaniard offered a simple, "Don't know, felt like it." The lie slipped through his tongue easily, something he had much experience with; especially with the Aussie standing behind him.

"And you were talking too much," he teased, though considering the other driver's reaction, he was very much not amused, chocolate pupils still dilated.

That kiss had reignited a fire deeply buried within Oscar, all the treacherous memories he had tried so immensely to suppress resurfaced. That god-awful night in Miami where he had been deceived, thinking that someone he loved actually loved him back for once.

_________________________________________________________________

The loud roar of drunk souls echoed in the lively atmosphere of the bar, slurred lyrics to an unknown song escaping their lips. Carlos had come to celebrate the 2nd win in his career, the loud cheers of his team muffled due to the amount of noise. Oscar stood to the side of the bar, quietly observing and cocktail in hand. He had been dragged here by his teammate Lando, who was by now somewhere also celebrating with his friend Carlos.

After a few more sips, Oscar's eyes flicked through the crowd, aiming for the exit. Ready to make his escape, he was abruptly stopped by a figure approaching him, who was undoubtedly the star of the party; Carlos. The younger one raised his eyebrows, looking behind to see if the Spaniard was aiming for someone else.

Eliciting a laugh from him, he felt warm fingers brushing against his chin, bringing his gaze back to the older one.

"I'm looking for you, pretty boy, unless you don't want to be with me," he said, smug smile on face as always while he ordered 2 gins.

Oscar's cheeks flushed with a bright pink under the name, thankful for the dim lights that obscured it.

It wouldn't be a lie that the Aussie had a slight crush on the older one (okay maybe slight would be an understatement), always in awe and admiration of everything he did, and there was no denying his insanely good looks.

"Congratulations on your win," he mumbled, the sting of the gin hitting the back of his throat and interrupting him. Offering a polite smile, the other one spoke after finishing his shot, "You were amazing out there for a rookie, are you always this amazing at everything?"

Cheeks tinting rose again, all the Aussie could do was offer a polite smile, not sure of what to say. Some small talk began to flow between them, increasing with the more drinks they had.

"Shouldn't your team be waiting for you?" the Aussie spoke after he stopped laughing at some joke Carlos had cracked before. In response, the Spaniard hummed, gaze softening as he leaned in to brush some locks off Oscar's forehead. The touch spread throughout his entire body, the warmness of his hands relaxing Oscar. Leaning into his ear, Carlos finally responded,

"Yeah, but they're not as important as you."

Afraid Oscar would explode right then and there, the Spaniard pulled away, pupils now darkened with a deep lust.

"Come on, you're far too drunk to drive home," he stated, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the stool, carefully guiding him through the crowd.

He pulled him into an Uber, closing the gap between them entirely; making Oscar feel like his entire body was on fire. The flashing stars acted like a tapestry for the rather horrid night that was awaiting them, acting as a red light for Oscar, "do not trust this man."

After about 10 minutes, which felt like an eternity to him, they finally arrived at their hotel; luckily they were both staying at the same one.

Slipping through a back entrance in order not to attract anyone's attention, they quickly made their ways to the elevator.

"What's your room number?" The Spaniard asked, fingers hovering over the buttons.

"304," he managed to reply, words slurred together due to the effect of alcohol. The ambient lights offered no help to soothe Oscar's dizziness, stinging his eyes with their aggressive gold glow. Carlos leaned against the silver railings that coated the inside of the elevator, lined up against the patterned, metal walls.

"We're here," he broke the silence, quickly intertwining his hand in Oscar's before he could protest. The Aussie was sure Carlos could hear his heartbeat in the quietness of the hotel; attempting to break through his ribcage and place itself in Carlos's hands; where it was always meant to be.

Swiftly slipping the key card out of Oscar's pocket, he unlocked the door, leaving Oscar confused as to how quickly he managed to do so.

Carlos stepped aside, allowing Oscar to enter the dimly lit hotel room, stumbling due to his dizziness. Locking the door behind him, Carlos's hands landed on the aussie's waist from behind, eliciting a small gasp from him.

"Let's see if you really are good at everything."

Oscar felt a pair of lips press against his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Carlos's lips placed wet kisses as he moved up and down his neck, dragging small whimpers from the younger one. His teeth slowly bit down; a leech latching onto its victim and leaving a mark. Oscar felt his knees grow weak; the wet and hot feeling of Carlos's lips against his neck putting him in a state of haze.

The Spaniard's warm hands began to snake downwards and towards the zipper of Oscar's jeans, quickly unzipping and expertly flicking open his button while counting to press small kisses and marks against the aussie's neck. Carlos managed to make quick work of Oscar's jeans, palming at the enlarging bulge in his boxers.

The feeling of the Spaniard's large hands wrapping around his cock drove Oscar ballistic, a moan escaping his lips before he could think to stop it.

Hands slipping back up, Carlos removed himself from the aussie's waist, hands moving to his own jeans; not bothering to take off Oscar's shirt. Usually, Oscar would feel some sort of hurt, realizing that he wasn't even that important and just a quick fling; but he was too carried away by the fact that his crush was standing behind him, trailing wet kisses down and up his neck.

The sudden force on his waist turned him around to face Carlos, their lips joining in a sloppy kiss. Cupping his face, Oscar deepened the kiss, head tilting at an angle to better capture his lips. The neediness of how much he wanted this poured through his mouth, boosting Carlos's ego by a large margin.

Mouth parting slightly, the Spaniard's tongue began to roam his mouth, tasting every inch of it. The immense pleasure overwhelmed Oscar, his mind being left in a state of haze and lust; amplified by the alcohol.

Separating for air, Carlos's hands trailed up the younger's spine, sending a wave of shudders throughout him.

"It's gonna hurt if it's dry, suck it."

Not giving Oscar time to respond, his hands exerted a force onto his head, pushing him downwards onto his knees. The Aussie was met at level of the older's cock, which seemed to be already hard in his boxers. With his free hand, Carlos pulled out his dick, making Oscar's mouth drool at the sight.

"I never thought I'd see you like this," he said before pushing the Aussie's mouth onto his length, slowly pulling in and out to amplify his own pleasure. Moaning around his cock, the younger began to swirl his tongue around; he didn't want to be alone in feeling the pleasure. As Carlos's tugs continued, his cock eventually hit the back of Oscar's throat, gag reflex betraying him and leaving a large pool of saliva on the older's cock.

Removing the Aussie from his cock, Carlos pulled Oscar up and onto the cream white sheets of the bed.

"It should be good now," he said, manhandling Oscar so his back was facing him. Sticking his fingers into the younger's mouth, the Spaniard began to coat them in saliva, the sweet humming of pleasure encircling them.

Withdrawing his fingers, the older one found his way to Oscar's hole, pushing in a finger without warning; causing him to flinch in pain which was quickly drowned by the pleasure. He felt so full with Carlos's large fingers inside him, slurred sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth.

What was now one finger quickly became two, swiftly scissoring his hole open. The rushed nature of it all should've bothered Oscar, or certainly sober Oscar, but the drunkness and fact that it was the Spaniard leaning over him currently made him overlook the fact.

The fullness of his fingers was hurriedly replaced with his cock, brutally thrusting inside his walls. Tears shot up in the younger's eyes, the pain overwhelming the pleasure this time.

After the initial thrust, Carlos gave no room to rest, relentlessly slamming into Oscar at a sloppy pace. A mixture of pleasure and pain bubbled within the Aussie, his moans of pleasure cut off by whimpers of pain.

And it was clear the stars suspicions were true, for in the morning, the Aussie found no sight of Carlos. His heart shattered into a million dagger sharp pieces, ones that would cut him each time he would try and put it back together. 

He should've seen it all, how he was just being used as a toy and discarded; but emotions come before senses.

He'd fallen for a lie, thinking that Carlos also reciprocated those feelings as well.

But he was played.

He didn't let his emotions get in the way of his racing; avoiding Carlos after that interaction; burying it deep within his memories.

Only for it to be sparked again.

[notf1obsessed]

These 2 are so bipolar towards each other

[notf1obsessed]

Lestappen on their way to adopt Oscar

[notf1obsessed]

wrapped round my finger: Carlos Sainz x Charles Leclerc (AU!)

Carlos and Charles are both automotive designers who are big names in the car industry, having worked with many companies before. They have both set aside their past, but what happens when they're forced to work together?

*EXPLICIT*

Chapter 3: Carmen

The boys, the girls, they all like Carmen,

She gives them butterflies, bats her cartoon eyes,

She laughs, like god, her mind's like a diamond,

Audiotune lies, she's still shining,

Like lightning, oh oh oh,

Like lightning,

- Carmen, Lana Del Ray

____________________________________________________________

The sunset's dim glow shone over the food stands, the voices of merchants attempting to attract customers accompanied by chattering groups and families. Charles and Carlos made their way to the ice cream stall, the younger one skipping all the way; earning a laugh from Carlos. Once they had arrived to the stall, Charles made a reach for his pocket, fetching some money. The expression of happiness now faded into one of disappointment as he took his hand out of his pocket; empty.

"Here, it's on me," assured Carlos smiling, handing the man a couple of notes. The other one's face lit up, smiling cheerfully. Taking the cones from the man and muttering a 'thank you', Carlos handed Charles one of the ice creams. Licking the soft cream, the younger one let out a satisfied moan at the taste; doing things to the Spaniard that he doesn't want to think about.

"It's delicious," he said between licks, walking over to sit on one of the benches. Finally trying his, Carlos nodded in agreement, "It's very sweet."

They both take a seat opposite each other, Carlos's back facing the sunset.

"Thank you," the monegasque mumbled.

"It's nothing," he assured, continuing to eat his ice cream.

Head tilting to the side, Charles smiled softly at the sight of the sunset; a beautiful canvas of yellows and oranges.

"The sunset is very pretty."

Like you, Carlos has the urge to say; though he decided against it. Instead, he nods in agreement.

Maybe one day he'll be able to tell Charles how he feels.

And so will Charles.

One day.

____________________________________________________________

The moon's dim glow offered little light to the vast venue below, misty clouds encircling the crescent. Flashing stars dotted the night sky, portraying white dots on a canvas. A black Mercedes, matching the colour of the sky above, pulled up near the venue; an anticipating Charles seated in front. Perfectly ironed, his scarlet dress shirt laid comfortably on his body, his navy trousers dropping to his shoes.

He had been invited to an event by Ferrari, trying to get their team to know each other better (though many knew it was just an excuse for Ferrari to throw another one of their lavish parties). Getting out of his car and entering through the gold doors, his eyes flicked through the place, not bothering to pay attention to the venue, but rather find people to talk to (if he was forced to come here, he might as well enjoy himself).

In contrast to outside, the venue was brightly illuminated by iridescent chandeliers; hanging high above the floor. Reflective, marble tiles lined the floor below, a large bar tucked in the back of the venue. Hurrying waiters offered drinks to the guests; most of them downing their drinks without actually knowing what concoction they were consuming.

Just to his luck, the first person to appear was none other than Carlos; the Monegasque's neutral expression now transforming into a menacing glare, shooting spears through the Spaniard. He was dressed in a white button up shirt, a black blazer resting over it; his entire chest was exposed, something only Carlos could get away with.

Trying to escape him, the Monegasque attempted to squirm his way through the crowd; muttering a few apologies when he hit someone.

"Charles, nice to see you here," Carlos's voice interrupted his dancing through the crowd.

Shit.

"Maybe it's because we're in a Ferrari event, Sherlock?" he responded, sarcasm and coldness dripping in his voice. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his wrist; forcing Charles to stop in his tracks. He knew whose hand that was, icy fingers tracing his veins.

Turning to face him, he was taken aback by the soft expression on Carlos's face; expecting a more harsh one in comparison to the bitch he's been acting towards him.

"Come, let me introduce you to some friends of mine."

Fuck no, he almost immediately spat out. Instead, he looked around; all eyes were on them. Deciding it was better to just agree to it and not stir up negative impressions about him, he simply nodded, face still stone cold.

Smiling softly, the Spaniard led him towards 2 people, male and female; his hand still holding a firm grip on Charles's wrist. It was only that they reached the pair did he let go of his wrist, the places where his fingertips were placed burning.

"This is Lando," he said gesturing to the man dressed in black. Shaking his hand out of courtesy, Charles opened his mouth but was cut off, "Charles, I know, Carlos talks about you allll-" he was stopped by a nudge to his shoulder, still grinning slyly. He raised an eyebrow at Lando but was brought back by Carlos speaking once more, "And this is Sophia." His tone was different this time, lower and softer, one filled with admiration.

Charles's gaze diverted towards the lady standing by the Spaniard. He swore she looked familiar, almost too familiar-

It suddenly clicked.

"Wait a minute, are you Ferrari's head of design?" He asked, shaking her hand. The brunette nodded, smiling.

How on earth is Carlos 'friends' with Ferrari's head of design? He questioned himself. Interrupting his thoughts, Lando began to speak; attempting to start some small talk which Charles continued into a conversation.

Throughout his conversation, he kept noticing the looks Sophia and Carlos exchanged; filled with love and admiration. It was only then had he noticed the arm snaked around her waist.

Oh.

Oh that son of a bitch.

"Will you excuse us for a second?" Charles suddenly interrupted the Brit, hand grabbing Carlos's wrist and leading him away from them. Raising an eyebrow, the older one looked back over his shoulder to try and offer a reassuring smile to them that 'they'll be back'; though he didn't even know where they were going.

"Where are you taking us, Charles?"

He didn't respond, instead, he countinued walking towards a room of some sort. Suddenly, Carlos was pulled into a bathroom, the monegasque's hand finally leaving his wrist.

"What is this about-"

"You fucking slept with her to get the position, didn't you?" Charles cut him off, tone somehow even colder and more harsh, this time filled with rage as well.

The Spaniard didn't respond, back straightening and expression hardening.

"Answer me," Charles demanded, turning to face him, encapsulating the man and making sure he couldn't leave under his gaze.

"I did," it was barely above a whisper, his gaze dropping to the ground.

The younger boy laughed, filling Carlos with even more worry, "Should've fucking known, you never work hard for anything. Using people then discarding them when you're done with them," it was extremely hard for his voice not to raise, "Just like you did to me." The memories flooded back into his head, that day after his 19th birthday, that morning his heart was broken, the day he lost a best friend, the day-

___________________________________________________________

Their mouths joined into a wet and heated kiss, Charles's soft lips pressed against the roughness of Carlos's. Wrapped tightly around Carlos's neck, Charles's arms held a dangling grasp on his nape; never wanting him to leave. Supporting him, the other boy's hands held a firm grip on his waist; rubbing circles into his sides. They stayed like this for a while, an exchange of unspoken emotions poured through their agape mouths conjoined; something both of them have wanted for a very long time.

Their tongues roamed freely, attempting to discover every inch of each other's mouths; twisting and turning in a messy dance. Eventually having to pull apart, their lips parted for a moment in one long string of spit, panting and flushing. The younger boy's eyes fluttered open to examine every detail of Carlos's face, tracing the liquorish hairs that dotted his chin. Gaze stopping at the other boy's eyes that bore a soft expression, his hands moved to cup his cheeks, rejoining their mouths in a slow, steady kiss; much less hungry than the first one.

"Fuck me," Charles mumbled against Carlos's lips, still panting and deprived of air. Wasting no time, the other one moved forwards, pushing Charles onto the soft, cream mattress. Fumbling with the buttons on his jeans, Carlos made quick work of them, discarding his jeans on the floor. As if they would die another second without the other's touch, their lips met again in a sloppy kiss as Carlos shimmied off Charles's trousers, his enlarging erection apparent in his white boxers. Charles tugged at the hem of the Spaniard's shirt; instructing him to take it off. Mouths parting for a brief moment, they both threw off their shirts; flinging them to some side of the bedroom.

Hurry up, Charles would plead, but he didn't want this to end. He didn't want Carlos's touch to leave, didn't want the feeling of his lips alone, he wanted the love that he poured through every touch and kiss.

Carlos quickly pulled off both of their boxers, freeing their enlarging cocks. He made a reach for the drawer, pulling out a tube of lube and squirting some on his hands. His fingers found their way to Charles's hole, teasing it with lube and withdrawing a shudder from him at the coldness.

"Tell me if it hurts," he instructed before slipping a finger in. Charles moaned loudly, a sound the other one will he hearing in his dreams. His finger was thicker than he expected, its size filling him with the perfect amount of pleasure. "More," he choked out, white knuckle grip on the sheets folding beneath his palms.

Following his orders, Carlos slowly placed another finger in, making sure not to hurt the Monegasque. Allowing his head to fall back, more sounds of guilty pleasure escaped his mouth, panting wordlessly. Carefully, the Spaniard's fingers began to scissor his hole, earning more moans from Charles.

"I'm ready," Charles pleaded, "Please." Carlos shook his head, "not until I say so." Charles groaned at the response, before being cutoff with his own moans of pleasure.

After a few more rounds of opening him up, the older boy reached over to put on a condom, Charles's heart racing with adrenaline and anticipation. Practically manhandling him, Carlos propped the younger boy's back against the pillows; giving him better access.

Suddenly, Carlos pushed in, earning an atrociously loud moan from Charles. In that moment, he felt all the air being sucked out of his lungs; yet it felt so good for some reasons. The fullness disappeared as Carlos pulled out, earning a groan from the Monegasque.

"Please Carlos," he begged; unusual for Charles to do, but in this moment he was desperate for it.

Desperate for Carlos.

He fucked in once more, this time hitting Charles's prostate.

If he thought the first time was good, then this was breath taking - metaphorically and literally. Muffled moans poured through his mouth as Carlos picked up a steady pace, face red and sweating.

"Carlos," he moaned, "I think I'm going to.." Nodding in agreement, he moved one hand from Charles's waist to his dick, working in fast and blurry thrusts.

"You're so tight, Charles," Carlos moaned, "So fucking perfect."

Gaze blurring with stars, Charles came with a loud yelp and moan, ribbons of white spurring out.

It felt like having his soul sucked out; but it felt so awfully good.

Coming a few seconds later as well, Carlos collapsed over Charles, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

Charles wasn't sure when he woke up, but Carlos was nowhere in sight.

And that was the last time he'd heard of him.

Until now.

[notf1obsessed]

Me and my bestie gossiping in the hallways

[notf1obsessed]

a little flirting hurt no one (Charles Leclerc x Carlos Sainz)

Carlos is hopelessly in love with Lando, but isn't sure how to break it to him. That is until Charles comes up with a plan, to make Lando jealous. Fake dating. But what they don't expect is for their fake relationship to turn real.

Chapter 13: too much to say

And that was very clear when Carlos arrived like a shit-wreck at Charles's apartment.

His eyes had puffy black patches underneath them. Ruffled and greasy, his hair laid flat on his head, unlike its usual swept back position. His clothes (which were a white tee and black jacket) were extremely creased, slight bits of skin exposed as it wasn't tucked in properly. Overall, he looked like shit.

"Oh my god Carlos," Charles gasped at the horrid sight of his teammate, "Are you alright?" He moved aside to let Carlos through the door.

"Yeah I'm fine, now come on let's get some stuff ready," replied the older one, yawning and stretching.

"Absolutely not."

Carlos raised an eyebrow, turning to face Charles, "What do you mean? We have to get ready."

"Not with you looking like this," argued Charles, "Come, I'll show you where you can sleep."

"Charles I swear I'm fi-"

"No you are not, Carlos," he cut him off, "You are to get some sleep or we're not going, and I'm not sure that's a very good impression."

"But Charles," Carlos tried to argue back, being cut off by Charles once again.

"Carlos are you coming or will I have to drag you by the feet."

Groaning, the Spaniard trailed behind Charles, following him nonetheless. He led him towards a big bedroom - presumably his - and opened the door for Carlos to enter.

The room was quiet spacious, dim sunshine offering little light to the bedroom. A large, king bed laid in the middle of the room, unmade duvets drooping over the edges. A pile of clothes - again, presumably Charles's - were tossed at its feet.

"I haven't set up the guest room because I didn't expect for you to arrive like this," began Charles, "So you can just have my bed."

"Charles I swear it's oka-"

"Do you want me to push you backwards on the bed?"

Deciding there was no winning this argument, he plopped backwards on the bed, landing with a loud thud. Charles let out a laugh, earning a side eye from the other one.

"Mate are you really going to sleep in jeans now? You won't get any sleep," giggled Charles, "Here take these."

He turned to the closet, Carlos not quite sure what he was looking for. Turning back to face Carlos, he tossed him a pair of sweatpants, "Here, these are much more comfortable."

He took the clothes with a groan, stripping down from his jeans. Feeling his cheeks fill with a shade of Ferrari, Charles quickly turned back to face the closet.

"I'll - just um.. get packing," he stuttered.

Carlos raised an eyebrow while putting on his sweats, but alas he was too tired due to his lack of sleep to question anything. He pulled up the sheets to his nose, head on pillow. He took in the scent of the sheets, they were so..

Sweet.

He ended up drifting off to sleep not long after, tiredness overwhelming him.

______________________________

"Carlos, sweetie, wake up please," the monegasque's soft voice woke him up from his sleep. He sat up to rest his back on the headboard, eyes still shut. Charles was sat at the end of the bed, head tilted forwards.

"Come on we have to get going, I made breakfast," he tried reassuring. Finally, the Spaniard managed to drag himself out of bed, hands rubbing his eyes.

Charles smiled, "I'll see you in the kitchen, you might want to change back into your jeans."

Carlos nodded, eyes still closed. He managed to change into his jeans, stumbling his way into the kitchen. Charles - who was already dressed - slid him a plate of pancakes.

"Here," he said, plating himself some, "I know how much you like pancakes."

And that was true, Carlos did love pancakes. As he took a seat on the kitchen island, he thought about how Charles had decided to make this for him. That he cared about him. It made his heart do things he would rather ignore.

"I already texted Lando about the cruise," Charles broke the silence, chewing on a piece of pancake, "We'll have to leave in a bit."

Carlos nodded in understanding, biting into his pancake himself. They ate in silence for the meal; a comfortable silence in contrast to the last one they had.

Once they had finished, they cleaned up the dishes; Carlos washing them and Charles drying them.

After they had finished washing the dishes, they made an exit through the door.

Carlos opened the door, dramatically bowing, "After you, cariño."

Rolling his eyes, Charles walked through the door, checking his watch to make sure they were on time.

"Come on now, don't want to be late, mon amour."

_______________________________________________________________

They arrived to the harbor a little after 2, making sure to park their car somewhere discreet.

They didn't want more attention. They were here for at least some fun (though that would prove to be quite hard later on).

Heads peeking through the window, Charles tried to catch a glimpse of Lando before going out of the car; trying to save them the hustle of wandering around like idiots in search for him. After a few unsuccessful attempts, Charles finally got out of the car, followed by Carlos.

Squinting his eyes due to the sun, Charles's gaze roamed around the different ships and yachts. There weren't many people at the pier, not surprising considering it was a Wednesday. Most people come here during the weekends, which was a relief for the both of them.

Suddenly, there was a force on his wrist pulling him towards a nearby ship. Gaze darting towards the right to see who was dragging him, he caught Carlos gesturing his head towards a waving Lando. A warm smile was etched onto his and Lando's face, Carlos's hand moving to shake Lando's. Charles did the same, except a much more formal expression was drawn on Lando's face.

Arguably with the most sarcastic smile ever, Carlos shook Oscar's hand lazily, making sure to spend as little time in contact with it. Oscar wasn't very different, eyes piercing through Carlos's eyes and cutting his soul. This was how all their interactions went (if they were even allowed in the same vicinity).

For some reason unknown to man-kind, Carlos had hated Oscar long before he found out he was dating Lando. The Spaniard had wanted to gut Oscar from the first moment he stepped on track (or maybe even before), arguing he was "immature" and "unexperienced", though no one reason was to pinpoint his absolute hatred towards the Aussie.

"Right," Lando broke the thick silence caused by the tension between Oscar and Carlos, "We should get going inside, we don't have much time to waste if we want to have fun!" A nervous smile on his face indicated he wasn't very convinced his attempt at enlightening the mood had worked.

Carlos and Oscar, deciding to put aside their unknown beef, smiled at Lando before pushing their way past him and onto the cruise. Lando looked back over his shoulder to see Oscar sneer menacingly at Carlos. Looking back at Charles, both of them exchanged worried glances.

This wasn't proving to be the fun getaway they had expected.

Alas, they had to make the most of it; following shortly behind their teammates.

Circling his head like a curious child, Carlos took in the view of the cruise ship, ignoring the problem next to him. Saying it was large would be an understatement; it was colossal. Massive, ring floors encased the towering beast, a glimmering swimming pool in the center. A long corridor leading to the main reception and elevators tunneled underneath them.

Carlos dipped in the hallway, blocking off Oscar who shot him a dirty look. Charles and Lando were already leaning against the counter, the Brit's head bobbing forward to look for a receptionist. He sat down on a chair, legs crossing to rest on a table. He heard Oscar snort in disappointment behind him. That little bitch, he thought, head turning to face him.

"What's so funny, Piastri?" Carlos asked coldly. Oscar's eyes narrowed slightly; he hated hearing his name on the Spaniard's tongue.

"Great impression resting your feet on the table," responded the Aussie, sarcasm dripping in his voice. Deciding to ignore him, Carlos turned back to face the refined tapestry hung on the wall.

If this countinued, one of them wasn't going to be alive for much longer.

Thankfully, Charles emerged in front of them, breaking their bubble of negativity.

"Let's get going to our room Carlos," Charles stated, key card in his left hand, "See you later Oscar." Oscar offered a polite smile and nod, walking over to Lando. The Monegasque dragged Carlos up by the hand, quickly taking him away from the Aussie. His face was scrunched up in a stern look, clearly disappointed by the Spaniard.

"Mate, what the fuck was that," he began, "couldn't you have at least acted you weren't planning on murdering the poor boy by sunrise?"

Snatching his hand out of Charles's grip, his eyes conveyed a mix of anger and hurt. Anger caused by the tone in Charles's voice, and the hurt caused by him deciding to take Oscar's side.

"You don't know what happened between us," he whispered quietly, surprised by his tone considering he was bubbling with rage. It was low enough for Charles to not hear him, thankfully. Instead, the younger boy kept walking to the elevators, stepping in right before Carlos.

The elevator ride was a thick silence for the most part, the occasional ping when it passed a floor. It was covered in mirror, gold lining running across the walls. Finally, the silver doors parted to reveal the floor, beige walls with the occasional painting popping out of the dull colours.

Charles slid past the doors, slowing down his pace to stroll in the corridor. He quickly found the room as it was right by the elevators, he tapped the key card to open the room.

Teal paint spread across the wall, a large, animated painting of an ocean stood in the center of the back wall. A row of closets were lined against the left of the door, a small, illuminated vanity standing at the end of them. A king bed laid in the center of the room, light blue cushions and pillows propped up against the headboard.

Sliding past Charles, Carlos stood in the middle of the room, staring at the bed in front of him.

Something both of their single celled brains had not thought about before.

"I can just sleep on the floor," offered Carlos as he threw his suitcase on the bed, beginning to unpack.

"No, no I will," protested Charles, moving over to help Carlos, "It's your invitation after all."

Abruptly, the Spaniard took a step back, hands dropping the zipper. His eyes roamed the bed, as if searching for something.

"It's big enough for the both of us," concluded Carlos, nodding his head in agreement to his own statement.

Eyes shooting up to face him, Charles opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why he couldn't say what was on his mind, "absolutely not", yet he didn't; he stayed quiet. The spaniard returned to his suitcase, fully unzipping it and beginning to stack some clothes.

Still baffled as to why he couldn't form words, Charles decided it was best to put aside the sleeping problem and get packing. He knelt down to open up his own suitcase; beginning to fold some clothes.

"Im going to head down for a walk at the deck, stretch a bit Y'know?" Carlos's voice diverted Charles's attention from packing. He looked up at his teammate, eyes blown open; baffled as to how he was able to pack away so quickly.

Laughing, the Spaniard clarified, "I'm a fast packer, and I didn't pack my entire wardrobe like you." Rolling his eyes, Charles went back to folding and putting away his clothes, muttering a 'goodbye' before Carlos exited through the doors.

He quickly closed the door, pausing for a moment to try and remember where the elevator was. Finally finding his way to the elevators, he caught sight of one of them closing. Quickly darting towards it, his hand slid between the metal doors; stopping it from closing. Though no sooner had he made the decision had he instantly regretted it.

In front of him, dressed in a black tee, was none other than Oscar. His eyes darted up to face Carlos, face curling into a sneer. Deciding to ignore him, he just stood beside Oscar, praying for the elevator to hurry the fuck up.

"What a coincidence seeing you here," muttered the Aussie, barely above a whisper.

"Just checking out the ship."

"Like you were doing to Lando."

The older boy's head had never twisted so fast in his life, eyes choking Oscar with their glare, "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about Piast-"

"Don't lie to me," he cut him off, "I know how badly you want to fuck him, it's so glaringly obvious."

Clenching his hands, a lopsided grin crept onto Carlos's face; very much in contrast to the emotions he was feeling, "You always have something to say, don't you Piastri," he said, referring to his radio messages.

"I just know you have even more to say, too scared to now but you seem to have no problem saying it to the media," the Aussie shot back, they were both at each other's throats by now.

The doors slid open, Oscar moving to step out. Suddenly, he was stopped by an aggressive hold on his wrist, pulling him to the right. He looked to his right to see Carlos pulling him towards a nearby restroom.

"Let go of me, you bastard," he choked out, but the Spaniard's grip was too strong on his hand. He was pulled into the bathroom, Carlos's hand leaving his wrist to push his shoulder against the wall. Oscar's hand moved to remove the hand off his shoulder, but was stopped by Carlos's hand grabbing it.

"Let go of m-"

He was stopped by an aggressive kiss against his lips. It shouldn't feel good, but it did. His mouth tilted at an angle, trying to catch Carlos's lips better. His tongue teased at Oscar's lips, asking to slip in. Opening his mouth, the Spaniard's tongue quickly began to roam Oscar's mouth. Pulling away for a brief moment, Carlos bit down with as much brute force on his lip, earning a yelp from the other one. Oscar licked at the edge of his lips, metallic taste stinging his tongue. Pulling away, he smirked at the sight he had created of Oscar, flushed and panting.

"You always have too much to say, don't you?"

[notf1obsessed]

Charles the man whore that you are

[notf1obsessed]

This is fan art. If it isn’t than boy o-

[notf1obsessed]

omfg Charles for the last time PLEASE ELABORATE 😭😭

[notf1obsessed]

It's very funny if you forget the context for a minute