Charlos || Charles Leclerc x Carlos Sainz Jr.

Mexico

Slipping into Carlos's hotel room, Charles kicked off his shoes and shut the door quietly behind him. Carlos was still awake, staring at something on his phone. He didn't acknowledge Charles when he walked in or climbed into the bed beside him.

In the quiet of the room, Charles studied his boyfriend's face, lit up by the light of his phone screen. His eyebrows bunched together in concern when he noticed the sad expression Carlos wore. He couldn't get a good view of what was on his phone from this angle, but he could tell the messages app was opened to a long line of blue text.

"What's wrong?" He asked, voice soft.

Carlos blinked roughly and turned to face him. He sighed before whispering back. "My mom still hasn't responded." It had been weeks since Carlos's conversation with his dad, and even longer since the photo had come out, but his mother had not brought it up. No words of support, anger, or even the concern his dad said she expressed. Nothing.

Carlos had thought to reach out first, but after 7 missed calls and days of no response to texting, he had given up.

Charles' mouth bowed down in an empathetic frown. He was so grateful for the feeling of his own mother's acceptance, and it hurt to think that Carlos didn't have that. "I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

Carlos let out a dry laugh and reached out to push a stray hair out of Charles's face. "I just never expected this from her, you know?"

Charles nodded, leaning into his touch.

"She–we were always so close when I was growing up. I thought... well I thought she would love me no matter what." His voice was shaky, but never cracked.

Charles hummed sympathetically but shook his head at the same time. "Mon coeur, she still loves you. Of course she still loves you!"

"Then why hasn't she responded?"

"Because she has bad opinions." Carlos let out a watery laugh at that, and although the sound wounded Charles it was nice to see him smile again.

"Do you think she'll ever want to talk to me again?"

"I think so. Even if she didn't, the rest of your family would bully her into it," Charles said, grinning slightly.

"Yeah, but I hope she can accept me on her own."

"Me too."

🏎 🏎 🏎

Charles's schedule was packed the next few days as they prepared for the Mexican Grand Prix, but in every spare moment, he thought about how to cheer up Carlos. His mother still hadn't reached out, and although Carlos wouldn't mention it, Charles could tell the emotional toll it was taking.

All around the city, Day of the Dead preparations were taking place. Bakeries were filled with pan de muerto, papel picado was strung between buildings in bright colors, and people bustled around the streets gathering offerings for altars or preparing for the parade.

The parade had caught Charles's attention, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. Almost everyone would be dressed in traditional clothing and elaborate makeup. Makeup that might conceal an identity.

"The Day of the Dead is tomorrow," Charles said the night after the race. The results were underwhelming but neither of them really talked about it. They knew where they stood and how the other felt. Carlos had tried to cheer Charles up, reassuring him that he could still place second, but Charles shut the attempts down. He wasn't the one that needed cheering up these days.

"Yeah, were you planning on celebrating?" Carlos asked, glancing up from his laptop with a confused look.

"Something like that."