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“Hmmm this sauce is delicious. Charlotte, who has cooked this pasta?”
It started like that. An innocent casual comment in their first year as teammates. At the moment Lando didn’t think about it twice but somehow it rooted in his brain and became a recurrent thought when Carlos did that .
“Are these the new hoodies? They look cool! Tell the designers they did a great job!”
That was such a Carlos thing to do. Always thinking about the others, always taking a minute to appreciate the things they did for him. Making every single being feel cherished and important.
Maybe he did it out of politeness, maybe he was raised like that. But how very special it was that in such an ego-centered world as the F1 is, he treated everyone as a very key part of his way to the top.
“The settings were excellent for qualy, well done!”
As stupid as it may sound, Lando started to notice these random comments more and more, and every time he did, they made him feel things. He couldn’t elaborate why, but whenever Carlos was nice to other people he felt warm inside. The fondness for his teammate growing bigger and bigger, at the same pace his admiration did.
The team had improved so much since he landed as a Mclaren junior, and these small details helped to oil the machinery to work even better.
It was in the mechanics’ eyes whenever Carlos thanked them for things most drivers took for granted, it was in Charlotte’s smile when he praised her patience for having to deal with two grown-up toddlers and never being mad about it, it also was in Caco’s face when his cousin appreciated his efforts. The glint was there. Carlos’ natural talent to make people glow and feel better about themselves under every circumstance. Lando witnessed in awe all of these tiny moments that the untrained eye undoubtedly missed.
“That was an impressive race, you muppet. You should be happy with yourself.”
Then it was Lando’s turn. It wasn’t in the early stages of their relationship as teammates as Carlos seemed to take his time in studying the reactions of the younger man, but when it came, Lando felt his stomach flip. He had wondered when would be the time when Carlos focused his attention on his awkward introvert partner, and for Lando’s taste it had taken him ages. Dramatism aside, it had been only a couple of months.
Carlos' exceptional ability to read people made him be more cautious with Lando. The British man wouldn’t take a compliment easily, he would brush it off and think that it was said out of courtesy. Carlos not only meant every word he said, he also wanted to make sure that people understood that they weren’t casual comments. That’s why it took him so long with Lando.
“That was a hell of an overtake! I’m impressed, you’re improving so fast!”
Once Carlos checked Lando’s reaction wasn’t negative, the praise cascaded progressively, becoming more and more frequent but not any less meaningful. Lando was surprised that he hadn’t become numb at those comments after hearing them more often, but in fact they shockingly had even more damn effect.
Those casual race-craft positive remarks from Carlos were exceptional. He was sure not many drivers were that supportively nice to their rookie teammates, but the Spaniard didn’t seem to give any importance to that or to their age gap, not even to their experience gap. He always treated Lando as an equal, and that was refreshing. Lando was tired of the condescendent treatment from other drivers, and it was getting to him a bit, but having Carlos by his side felt like a calming balm that pushed away all the negativity that his own brain wanted to inflict on himself.
“You behaved like a class act, you probably didn’t feel very good about yourself but you joined us in the celebrations anyway. Thanks for letting me by when the team asked.”
Even in his happiest moment as a racing driver, the day he got his first Formula 1 podium, he pushed selfishness aside and took his time to thank Lando and to appreciate his efforts. Lando’s head spun at that, he considered himself insignificant in Carlos’ feat, he had done nothing. He had just driven a standard race and later he was standing on a podium with forty other people to congratulate the hero of the day. He was just one smile more in a photo, nothing relevant, nothing special.
Funnily enough Carlos seemed to gravitate towards him during the celebrations. He was the one sprayed by the champagne, the one Carlos hugged playfully when drenched in the alcoholic liquid, the one posing with him in photos with the trophy… Somehow Carlos had made it again and had turned a personal achievement into a shared success. So generous and heart-warming that it did things to Lando.
“You have such a great heart, never think otherwise.”
And then the remarks became more personal. They weren’t ‘good race’ anymore, they turned into something more intimate and emotional.
After he had shaved his hair off in front of a camera having thousands of spectators watching, Lando expected a lot of banter from his friends: ‘Baldo Norris’ this, ‘now your head is more aerodynamic’ that. But Carlos had gone further and had focused on the cause and not in the effect. That was so typical of him, so painfully Carlos that Lando wanted to scream and break all the lockdowns in the World to go and hug him.
“That was so much fun, you almost made me forget about everything. Thank you.”
The idea of playing video games online was a joint one, but Carlos once again gave all the credit to his younger friend. It wasn’t the same thing as playing in real life and seeing the Spaniard laugh at his poor skills at FIFA, maybe being hit by a cushion on the face and then, ending up crying laughing because one of them had done something ridiculous. But hearing Carlos high-pitched laughs on the other side of the line wasn’t half-bad either and made being stuck at home a bit more bearable.
“You deserve it.”
Those three simple words nearly moved Lando to tears. It was his first podium and once again Carlos did everything possible to make him feel like the most important person on Earth. The way he ran towards him to hug him, far from the rest of the team, welcoming him into the celebrations, and probably breaking every Covid-bubble rule while doing so. Then he stepped back and let Lando take the center of the stage, all eyes on him, including those chocolate intense ones, painted with pride and fondness.
“Fun, fast, hard-worker, but most importantly. A great guy.”
That was it, those were the last words from Carlos to Lando as a McLaren member. Compiling all the things he appreciated the most from Lando: his fun personal side, his racing driver side, but appreciating his human quality on top of that. His ‘Thank you for all the incredibly fun and enjoyable moments, I will remember these two years forever’ seemed lame in comparison.
Lando reflected on those two years and then it hit him. He had never told Carlos all the things he really thought of him. He always shielded himself behind the humour and the banter, and Carlos took it as the good sport he was. Once again never demanding an infimum amount of the appreciation he usually gifted.
That was the best part of him, he never said all those things to hear some sweet words in return. Unselfish and generous. It wasn’t fair that he was going to leave without hearing all the things he deserved to hear.
Before he could reconsider his decision, Lando was already walking towards Carlos’ hotel room, his thoughts a complete mess and his words all tangled in his head. He somehow expected them to flow easily as soon as he reached the Spaniard but he wasn’t that hopeful as words weren’t really his thing.
“Are you alone?” Lando asked rushedly as Carlos opened the door, shock in his eyes at why his now ex-teammate was knocking on his door at night time. He nodded and opened the door wide, letting him pass. Lando stepped into the room slaloming his way around two opened half-made suitcases and sat on the edge of Carlos bed, begging with his eyes for Carlos to do the same.
Their non-verbal communication was almost telepathy at that point and Carlos quickly got the message, sitting next to his friend and waiting for an explanation. Lando licked his lips nervously and avoided Carlos’ eyes to focus on his message, his fingers fidgeted nervously with his wrist bracelets, and his heart pumped frantically into his ribcage. His throat suddenly felt dry and swallowing had become the greatest achievement, but that wasn’t going to stop him now.
“Before you leave…” Lando paused in his introductory sentence because it was suddenly painful. The frantic season hadn’t given him the time to reflect on how much he was going to miss Carlos, and how unbearable his absence would be.
Carlos seemed to sense the struggle and scooted closer, his warm palm landing on Lando’s knee, searching with his eyes something in the clear ones of the younger man, it wasn’t easy as Lando’s eyes were darting across the room, not daring to meet Carlos’.
“I can’t believe I’ve never told you how much I appreciate all the things you do.” Lando scolded himself. “You always mention the positive stuff people do and you make them feel so good. You don’t even notice it, but you make people so happy Carlos, it’s almost ridiculous. It’s your superpower.”
Carlos chuckled softly at that, shaking his head in silence.
“And then, even if you’re having a bad day, instead of whining about it, you divert the attention to someone else and you make them smile, and then you smile too, and God, even if you’re hurting inside you make the atmosphere a lot more bearable for everybody else and that’s just so perfect.”
Lando was feeling so good at his surprising eloquence that he even dared to look into Carlos’ pupils, feeling his body tremble weakly when he noticed the shine on Carlos’ eyes. He found a bit of courage deep inside and he carried on.
“I can’t even remember the amount of times you’ve made my day brighter just by saying some encouraging words, or asking me about how I was feeling. In these two years I’ve felt cared about, and for the first time in my life I’ve really felt I was important and necessary. Carlos, you’re probably the best person I’ve ever met, you’re so special.” He finished his statement blushing furiously, his cheeks burning as much as the leg where Carlos was still resting his hand.
“And I don’t know how I’m going to carry on now from here…” He whispered. “Without you.”
Lando felt like the bravest man ever for being able to say that not only out loud, not only in Carlos’ presence, but looking directly into his eyes, delivering his message directly to his soul. At the same time he felt selfish, his goal was to make sure Carlos left knowing he’s a great guy and instead he was voicing his fears, his insecurities, the emptiness he was going to experience, the abandonment… He was doing something Carlos would never do to him.
“I would carry you with me if I could.” Carlos replied softly, his voice almost an honest caress. “But you’ll do fine, you always do.” With that Carlos opened his arms with a sincere smile inviting Lando, and even if Lando wasn’t a touchy person, that warm chest and strong arms were too tempting and he melted instantly at the touch. Their bodies falling into the mattress and tangling together mindlessly.
A few minutes later Lando rolled his body to the side and looked at Carlos’ profile, the older man staring at the ceiling with furrowed brows.
“What are you thinking about?” Lando asked curiously. His legs still tangled with Carlos’.
“The day I signed for Ferrari I was terrified… I thought you would never talk to me again.” Carlos chuckled, turning his head to Lando. The younger man smiled.
“Shut up! There’s no way you were thinking about me, now you’re just messing.” He grinned but froze when he saw that Carlos’ wasn’t joking.
“I think about you all the time.”
That was probably the most honest sentence Carlos had ever pronounced, and as usual, Lando understood he meant every single of those words. They weren’t said to make him feel better about him leaving, they weren’t said to make Lando feel important. They were genuine and sincere, brave and fearless. All Carlos was.
Lando waited patiently for a few seconds, staring at Carlos, waiting for him to crack a joke that toned down such a huge statement, but the Spaniard kept the silent eye-contact, somehow finding Lando’s hand and tangling his fingers together. A hint of a blush painting his cheeks, making him look fragile and vulnerable.
Lando wasn’t good with words, so he decided to keep his mouth busy before he could break the spell. His lips clashing against Carlos’ were all the confirmation the Spaniard needed to know that his message was understood as he intended.