3. LANDO AND CARLOS - Pt 2

At the first opportunity, Lando had followed Max's good advice, and taking advantage of McLaren's excellent weekend in Brazil, where Carlos had finally scored a podium and Lando had still scored points, he had pissed him off by going out together to have fun because he wanted to see how the Spanish did it, since that was what they were famous for. He had even used the excuse of his birthday, which had just arrived that week. Twenty years deserved to be celebrated at least all month. 
It hadn't taken much; it almost seemed like Carlos was waiting for nothing else. 
Likewise, in the club packed with Brazilians, with the lights dim and the music blasting, it was enough to down a few drinks and take him somewhere more private to avoid any scandal. 
Lando wasn't sure about Carlos's level of lucidity, but he was counting on appearing drunk. 
After staggering and almost falling without any pretense, Carlos had grabbed him by the arm, laughing, turning him around and pulling him towards him. 
- Are you drunk? - he asked, leaning him between himself and the wall. A particularly dark place where couples went to make out and do more then just making out. 
Lando vaguely glimpsed the presence of other couples and wasn't sure what kind they were, but he didn't really care. He had purposely chosen a promiscuous place, after having researched the ones in that city. He had found many and only now realized how lucky, by going completely at random, he had been. Apparently, people there in Brazil really knew how to have fun. And they definitely had a very free and all-round concept of fun. 
But finding himself between Carlos' strong, warm body and a wall, there in that near-darkness, with the chaos a short distance away, Lando realized that his luck didn't consist only in having chosen the right place. 
"Do you see he wanted the same thing?" 
He only had time to think it, because Carlos, contrary to Lando's intentions and Max's advice, didn't ask anything. 
He simply took his face in his hands, and after a magnetic, close-up gaze that had given him a record-breaking surge of excitement, he simply kissed him. 
Before he knew what was happening, Lando was already kissing him back passionately, clinging to his waist and pushing himself up onto his toes to more comfortably reach his mouth. 
They kissed for a long time without stopping, and as they did, Lando had his confirmation. He was gay, he liked boys, and Carlos was incredibly hot, not to mention good with his tongue. 
"I wonder how many other things he's good at!"
After devouring his mouth for a long time, Carlos pulled away, still holding him by the face as he had been doing the whole time. 
- I wanted to give you a gift for your twentieth birthday a few days ago, but I didn't know what to give you. So I thought you might appreciate this. - he whispered, close and magnetic, placing another light kiss on him. 
Lando ignored his self-centered remark about how a kiss from him was as good as a gift and commented slyly: - I appreciate it.  
Then he smiled and sucked his more prominent, inviting lower lip in return. His excitement was sky-high and in a flash he'd emptied all the alcohol he'd ingested—not that much, actually. 
But he didn't need it to launch himself into something he wanted so badly and that he finally had within reach. 
He wasn't known for thinking before acting, he certainly wouldn't have started now. 
So even now he responded without connecting his mind, rubbing his swollen groin against his, while his hands slid into the back pockets of his jeans. 
- But don't think a kiss is enough of a gift for someone turning twenty!
Carlos was stunned for a moment by that bold and courageous statement, and he absorbed it better as Lando's tongue slipped back into his mouth, while his hands verified the firmness of his well-trained buttocks. 
It didn't take long for him to grasp Lando's explicit, not subliminal, message, and if he'd been considerate until then, thinking him too young for certain things, he reconsidered his decision and took him to the first available bathroom. 
It was like waving a red flag in front of a bull; it had exactly that effect, and Lando benefited completely and without restraint. 
The same he didn't have when he screamed like a crazy as Carlos took him from behind; he, bent over and leaning against the sink, moaned, panted and shouted his name, demanding without restraint he go faster and not stop. Carlos, holding him by the hips, took him from behind with passion and an increasing pace, satisfying him, increasingly out of control. 
As he panted and asked how long it would take because he was about to come, Lando deduced that he liked the way he gave himself so passionately. It was a surprise even to himself; it was the first time with another man, but obviously he wasn't a virgin. However, with girls, it was completely different. He'd done it more to try it out, to do it, because yes, but it hadn't been at all like this; taking him inside was his world, his thing, and he couldn't stop himself or not enjoy it without restraint. 
He realized he was overdoing it, but the answer to his 'how long does it take you?' came with his own satisfying spurt that hit the filthy bathroom floor. 
It wasn't the least bit romantic to have sex with a man for the first time in a place like this, but neither was it to experiment with anal penetration alone at home with a vibrator, because he was too impatient to wait for a real cock to fuck him from behind. 
"I probably had a good idea, I paved the way for him. The first time I put it in me, it didn't feel as good as it does now with him, but practice always pays off."
Amazed at his own remarkably coherent thinking, Lando abandoned himself to the feeling of Carlos' hot cum inside him, letting the shivers of pleasure spread everywhere, becoming a pleasurable chaos he soon wanted to become addicted to. 

And he became. Addicted to pleasure. To sex with Carlos, but perhaps more because he was a man than because Carlos in particular. 
But to understand that it was about that and not specifically about him, Lando first had to go through a scene that almost cost him dearly.
The years together at McLaren were beautiful and engaging; he had managed to momentarily put Charles out of his mind, even though he had always remained there in the corner of his heart, in a well-hidden place that he sometimes deluded himself into ignoring. 
He succeeded as long as Carlos remained on the same team; for two years they had been at it and having a lot of fun, giving and receiving orgasms without reservation; it had been increasingly perfect, a magical chemistry that could have nothing to reproach him for, much less regret. 
Until Carlos moved to Ferrari, becoming Charles' teammate. 
Initially, Lando hadn't wanted to focus on that, nor think about what it meant. 
Meanwhile, the relationship between Max and Charles had evolved from openly hating each other to openly appreciating each other. They were still circling the issue, and there, in 2021, Carlos, becoming Charles' teammate, like a good, sociable Spaniard, managed to bond with him too, for a change. 
Too much, for his tastes and Max's, who shared the same jealousy and annoyance at the Spaniard's suffocating and overly physical ways. 
United by the same drama, Max had no idea that their annoyance wasn't directed at different people, even if it was for the same reason. 
Lando pretended to be jealous of Carlos, but he immediately realized he was jealous of Charles. 
It was unnerving, because as long as it was a matter of stepping aside for Max, because he recognized that he had a certain precedence over Charles, was one thing. But doing that for Carlos too, no. 
In 2021, it wasn't so obvious that those two idiots would end up together anyway, given that they were still dragging it out so long after all that time; it was legitimate to think that in the end they would never have the courage to do anything together. 
And it was therefore equally legitimate for Lando to believe that Carlos could ultimately prevail over Charles, outclassing him and Max. 
A possibility that perhaps in the years that followed was seen as ridiculous, but which at the time was extremely plausible and therefore triggering. 
Triggering one of those jealous outbursts that nearly ruined everything. 
And by everything, Lando meant the only worthy sexual outburst that he had. He couldn't do without Carlos, not yet. He needed him to stay calm, keep his hormones at bay, and not do any of his stupid things. 
- So this is your plan now? - he asked sharply, exasperated by yet another video Ferrari had released of the 2C, as their social media page called them. 
Carlos had come to his room specifically to do something he hadn't done as often lately as when they were teammates, and he stopped there while undressing, realizing that Lando wasn't doing it but was sulking. 
Lando felt like a child, but that didn't mean he was calming down. 
- What? - he asked incredulously. 
Lando continued seriously. 
- I can see you doing to him what you did to me for all those two years together on the team. Now new teammate, same system? Are you bored of me and moving on to another like you change your tracksuit?
He didn't want to be capricious and childish, he felt like one even on the inside, imagine what it must be like on the outside, but he absolutely couldn't hold his tongue. 
As Carlos watched him get dressed again, truly understanding what he was doing—or at least believing so—he was sincerely incredulous. 
- I hope you're kidding. - he said cautiously, on the edge of tension. 
But Lando didn't give a shit anymore. 
- No, I'm not kidding. - he just needed to clarify. He felt like he was going crazy. 
It wasn't possible that Charles hadn't ended up with Max but with Carlos. He couldn't have sacrificed himself for nothing. 
The thought was atrocious. Totally unacceptable. And even if it meant coming out now, he had to make it clear. 
- Lando, in the meantime, I don't grope him like I did with you. - the first thing he wanted to clarify was that, and as soon as he did it was like showing Lando the right painting, like when you compare copies with the original and carefully determine which is the fake. 
But that still wasn't enough. 
- You’re touching him! Continuously! You're always on him! Don't you think you have to control yourself if you don’t fuck with him? 
- I’m not fuck him, Lando! 
- But you want to! 
- It’s none of your business, okay? - when Carlos said that, Lando felt thunder rumbling in his head. 
The moment he answered like that, instead of continuing to reassure him with sensible answers, the Englishman jumped up and threw the phone, fortunately not in Carlos' face but into the couch he'd just gotten up from. 
His face was tense like his muscles, his eyes filled with obvious anger. And a wound. A deep wound. 
He had to know. 
He absolutely had to know without a shadow of a doubt if he and Charles were having something. He needed it. He could have broken up with Carlos, but he had to know. 
- But it is! I have the right to know if you're having something with him.
But Carlos didn't move. 
- No, you don't, because we're not a couple and we don't owe each other anything. If we want to go out with others, we can. I'll never be devoted to you, and I don't want you to be with me either. And I don't even want to know if or when you'll go with someone. We have fun and we fuck, but that's all. So think about what you want to do with me the next time you ask me to come over!
After that, Carlos left. Him and his marble-like hardness. For the first time he hadn't been the classic Spanish volcano; he'd been very cold and harsh. And effective, if the goal had been to curb the jealousy directed at him. 
Too bad it wasn't what it seemed. 
Clenching his jaw until his teeth creaked, Lando slowly turned away, still tense and shaking with rage. He felt like he was about to explode. He needed to know. 
He had to know. 
He couldn't ask Max; what the fuck would he know? At most he could ask him why the fuck he hadn't taken him yet, given all the effort he'd done to let him have Charles. 
No, the only one who could give him an honest answer was Charles. 
He looked at the phone thrown on the couch; it had almost fallen to the floor. 
No one knew about them except Max. He hadn't told the others. 
Well, he was going to. There was nothing wrong with it anyway. 
So, deciding to risk it all—and in any case, unable to hold back—he picked up the phone and texted Charles directly, unable to summon the courage to call him and hear his voice. 
'Are you and Carlos fucking?'
The time Charles took to read and reply seemed like an eternity, even though he knew it wasn't. 
However, his 'What? No!' didn't make Lando feel any better. 
'Is there something going on between you?'
'Absolutely not, just friendship.' 
This time Charles had answered immediately. But still the anxiety that it wasn't true, made him do the irreparable for a moment. 
'You have to be honest, Charles.'
Then Charles' call had arrived. Lando had expected it even before; even though he'd been afraid of it, he hadn't stopped. 
In the end, after a few rings, he'd decided to answer, trembling and calling himself an idiot. 
- Are you kidding? - Charles asked, disconcerted.
- I just want to know. - he replied harshly, the anxiety still palpable in his trembling voice. God, how pathetic he was. Now that he'd thrown himself into it, he might as well go all the way. 
- No, Lando, I'm not with him, nothing's ever happened and it never will. We're just friends, that's his way of being. You were his partner too, you should know that. 
- Yeah, that's exactly why I know. - the answer slipped out, but it was still the only valid one. 
As soon as he gave it, Charles understood. He wasn't looking at him, but he knew he understood.
- Oh. You and him... and you're jealous... but no, Lando, you don't have to worry. There never was anything, and there never will be. Even more so now that I know about you. I... I had no idea... I'm sorry you thought that. But why didn't you ask him? - Charles, in his shock, was talking even more than usual and he was delicious. Lando softened. 
- I did, and he told me we just fuck and not to be jealous, that we're not consecrated, and that he doesn't have to tell me who he's with, if he's with anyone. 
Silence. 
-But… but he denied we've done anything, right? Because it never happened. Lando, he's Spanish, I don't... 
- Yes, but I didn't believe him, I acted jealous, and he snapped. I just needed to know and I could only ask you. I'm sorry. God, what a fool I did. 
It was true, but he still felt better now that he knew. Now Charles knew about him and Carlos. If there was still a them. 
If there was any vague, faint hope, it would have come out now. If Charles had been jealous in some way... 
- Have you talked to Max about it? Does he think so too? Is that why he's been so weird lately? - and there it was, his answer. Or confirmation. 
Lando smiled bitterly and resignedly, closing his eyes and wrinkling his nose in a pained grimace. 
He sighed. 
- No, we haven't talked about it. Weird in what way?- should he pretend he didn't know anything about them too? For a moment he couldn't remember which of them he'd said what. Then he remembered that to avoid making a fool of himself, he'd said the same thing to both of them, pretending to root for their union. 
- I don't know, it's more on his own. Lately things were going well between us. It seemed like we were becoming friends, but I think I misunderstood... 
Lando realized that Charles wasn't just venting freely, but was looking for clues and confirmation from him. About whether or not Max had feelings for him. 
For a moment, he considered stirring up trouble, but he knew he couldn't look them in the eye anymore. Not them, nor himself. 
- Well, maybe it's not friendship he wants from you, but something else. If I thought about you and Carlos together, he might too. Maybe he's jealous. Try talking to him and calming him down. 
- But we're not together, what should I tell him? 
- Tell him you're just friends with Carlos, you'll see he'll go back to being a sweetheart!
He laughed it off because he didn't know what else to do. After all, he had no choice. He couldn't break up with him. He couldn't and he didn't want to. 
- Just apologize to Carlos, you'll see that you'll sort it out. I'm sorry, Lando. 
- Yes… I'll write to him now…
And it hurt, even though he knew he'd done the right thing, even though he was calmer. 
But standing there alone in silence for a moment, before texting Carlos, he realized he couldn't have done it alone, without help. It didn't have to be Carlos, but right now he was the only one. 
He just hoped he hadn't done one of his stupid things. 
He still needed him. 

He'd managed to mend fences with Carlos, but something had changed. Him, maybe. 
Actually, definitely. 
They were still fucking, but less regularly. It wasn't even as engaging as before. Still fun and exciting, but not as much as it was in the beginning. 
"I guess relationships change, sooner or later. For better or for worse.” Lando thought as he watched Charles and Max walk away together through the crowd on the yacht Max'd rented to celebrate his first world championship. Everyone he knew had come, including himself, Carlos and Charles, as well as, of course, George, Alex, Daniel and Checo. 
It had been a somewhat improvised party, given that he hadn't really expected to win, having done literally at the last second of the last race. It had been a memorable world championship victory, he'd just made history by taking it from Lewis, and he was happy for him. He sincerely was. 
Seeing him walk away clinging to Charles' firm buttocks, both of them too drunk not to take advantage of this opportunity, he supposed that it must be the same for them, but he wasn't sure. 

Notes:

I have a particular view of them, in the sense that I recognize their relationship, which goes beyond what they have with others, but I can't see anything more than fun and sex. Besides, I think Carlos is very self-centered (but he also has flaws, right?!), so it would be like him not to understand that Lando is jealous of Charles because he thinks he's jealous of himself! Thanks and see you next time. Kisses, Akane