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“When our eyes meet, don’t linger too long.
Keep the greetings measured, don’t let the concern run too deep.”
Carlos’s eyes are stunningly attractive.
It’s not just the color, the shape, or the lashes that frame them; it’s the way Carlos uses them. Intense, sincere—easily mistaken for deep affection. When he settles his gaze on you, it feels as though you are his entire world.
Lando loves Carlos’s eyes, but he fears them in equal measure—because they can see right through him.
So he always looks away first.
“Curiosity should not be pursued, jealousy must be locked away.
If loneliness becomes unbearable, I still must not say it to you.”
Carlos gets along well with Charles. Of course he does—Carlos gets along well with everyone. “Smooth Operator” isn’t just smooth on track; Lando has known that for a long time.
But seeing those eyes focused on someone else, seeing those hands resting so familiarly on someone else’s shoulder—Lando still can’t suppress the jealousy. They even have a ship name now: Charlos. Blending together more seamlessly than Lando and Carlos. Of course they do; the names share the same roots.
Lando desperately wants to ask Carlos: What about me? You’ve settled so easily into your next team—am I the only one who still misses you? But he can never say it out loud.
Soy Lago was already the furthest he allowed himself to slip.
“Ah, my dear friend—my dearest, dearest friend.
An accidental silence, just not wanting to make you sad.”
“How much are you gonna miss him when he does move to Ferrari next year?”
This was it, Lando thought. If Carlos was leaving and his emotions were still being pulled around like a puppet on strings, it would be too pathetic. For once, he wanted to be the cool one, the one who deflects with a casual joke. Not that much, actually—and then throw in a Max quote—chill enough. Yeah, he definitely wouldn't miss Carlos.
“Hmmm.” Carlos didn't seem to buy it.
That’s fine. Lando had other cards to play. He knew Carlos’s birthday and his age by heart, so getting it wrong on purpose was easy; and he knew how much Carlos hated being called "old."
Ah, see? Carlos sounded genuinely annoyed now.
Lando eventually circled back to talking about how great their partnership has been—it's something witnessed by everyone, after all. But Carlos’s voice cut through.
"Then say it, say 'you're gonna miss me'.”
That’s the arrogance he hates about Carlos. As if, if he just said it, Lando would obey. As if he understands Lando better than he understands himself. Even after that interview, Carlos kept nagging about it, as if he really cared about the answer.
But if the roles were reversed, would Carlos say he’s gonna miss Lando? Lando didn't even need to wait for an answer to know.
He wouldn't.
And Lando wouldn't have the confidence to demand it.
“We stand on opposite sides of a floor-to-ceiling window.
Even when we touch, there are boundaries.
If we were to cross that border between us,
will it bring us closer—or push us further apart?”
Carlos has absolutely no sense of physical boundaries.
He’s the type to reach out and touch you while talking—resting a hand on your arm, your shoulder, wrapping it around your waist, or letting it linger casually on your thigh. It made Lando secretly ecstatic and intensely restless all at once. Carlos also has a habit of laughing and leaning his whole body onto whoever is next to him. Lando could never get used to it; his entire body would go rigid every time they touched.
It was the same after races. Usually for a celebration of some kind, though Lando had long since forgotten the specific reasons. What he does remember is Carlos charging at him from all directions, wrapping him up in a hug, pressing his whole body against him, heartbeat thundering—from the adrenaline, of course, not for Lando—with a grip so tight it felt like he was so eager to confirm Lando was actually there.
Lando could almost feel Carlos’s breath in his ear. An illusion, surely—they were both wearing helmets.
Those hugs never lasted more than a few seconds, but Lando always needed much longer just to remember how to breathe again.
“Believing we’ve reached another realm,
arms around shoulders, singing long live friendship.”
Grill the Grid had the drivers vote for the best bromance, and so many of them chose Carlos and Lando. That’s what their relationship was in everyone else's eyes.
A rare, genuine teammate bond. Soulmates.
They even made it onto the list of the best bromances in paddock history, right alongside the legends—the only active drivers on it. Even Carlos, who famously claims "there are no friends in the paddock," admitted that Lando would be the first person he calls after retirement to stay real friends.
So sometimes, Lando thinks their bond has transcended so many definitions, perhaps even transcended love itself.
Isn't that enough?
He still didn't vote for himself and Carlos for the best bromance.
“If ‘I love you’ ever turned into words,
what would there be more of, and what would there be less of?”
Carlos surely doesn't know. That’s the only reason he’s willing to maintain this level of intimacy with Lando.
An intimacy so deep people think they’ve reached the peak of what a "bromance" can be. Someone once jokingly asked him: Is there any room for your friendship with Carlos to grow? Lando knew that was the cue for a gay joke. Maybe we’ll share a bed? Live together? Every day I'll ask him if he wants to shower first, eat first, or have me first. Lol.
"I know there is one last step, but I will never take it."
It’s not like he hasn't fantasized about those ridiculous scenarios. So what's the difference between this and the jokes? There is one last step, of course: confessing his feelings and destroying the precious friendship they’ve built.
Carlos must never know.
“Let others keep guessing, we are innocent enough.
Just let me bear this, the suffocation of that innocence.”
Carlos loves the word Carlando.
He brings it up constantly; he posts about it. When asked about the best bromance in the paddock, he was the only one to actually use the word "Carlando." He even occasionally forwards fanart to Lando with a "jajaja bonitooo”.
Lando rarely brings it up, but he sees the art too. The comics only—because he certainly can't be bothered with the long fics.
Usually, his only thought is that people don't understand Carlos at all. Carlos would never be that obsessed with someone; he’d never look at someone with those eyes… then Lando realizes, he doesn't actually know. Maybe that’s exactly how Carlos looks when he's in love. Maybe the fans know more than he does. After all, Lando will never receive that version of Carlos, and he’s never been willing to look too closely at how Carlos treats his actual partners.
Carlos likes the word because it represents their friendship. And if fans want to interpret it romantically, well, that’s amusing too—because they both know it isn’t true.
But Lando likes the word in a completely different way.
“Even if I’m just a friend, am I allowed to ask for something?
If something were to happen, it would only be because I imagined too much.”
Sometimes, Lando sees the look in Carlos’s eyes—the same adoration he feels himself—calling out Lanno with impossible tenderness. His full lips press against Lando’s, trailing down his neck, lifting his shirt to leave kisses on his chest and places further below.
He can already tell without any doubt that this is a dream.
And that’s fine. This Carlos kisses him endlessly, murmurs praises about his face, his body, and his skill. Goes down on him, takes him, lets himself be taken. Even says he loves him, in the Spanish he once taught him. Again and again.
The first few times, Lando felt guilty. Now he just feels like he has the right to indulge, at least in dreams.
That doesn’t make waking up any easier.
Especially when he sees the real Carlos— The one who won't respond to his unspoken demands, the one whose eyes hold nothing but that friendly, overly-kind warmth.
“Ah, my dear friend—just a dear friend.
A slip of the tongue, a smile hiding something else.”
“From my side to Ca—uh, to, to Danny…”
Shit. Shit. He messed up.
It’s not that Daniel would mind, it’s the commentary that follows that he dreads.
"A proper bromance. It was cute!"
Yeah. Their relationship is, after all, just a bromance.
And honestly, considering the sponsors, considering certain race locations—this kind of inclination is practically not allowed in this sport.
Therefore, having his affection recognized as a "soulmate" bond is already something to be grateful for. Compared to relationships strangled in the cradle, relationships that ended violently, or the ones stuck in endless, toxic cycles... he’s lucky.
So, he just needs to respond to the well-meaning tease. He had already affirmed Daniel’s comment about how their friendship was "a bit more than friendship." He really couldn’t turn this interview into a coming-out manifesto. Come on, Lando. Be as composed as Carlos.
Then he heard himself say, "A lot more, actually."
Nice one, Lando Norris, he cursed himself internally.
Thankfully, everyone just laughed it off.
“We stand on opposite sides of a floor-to-ceiling window.
Even when we touch, there are boundaries.
If we were to cross that border between us,
will it bring us closer—or push us further apart?”
“Did you miss me over the winter?”
More than just the winter, Lando wanted to say. It wasn't a sharp, agonizing ache, but the hunger to speak to him existed in every second they were apart. Even when it lasted so long that he felt he had finally gotten used to the distance, Carlos would sneak into his dreams to prove that, no, he hadn't.
But Carlos’s answer was "a tiny bit," and that drew a clear line.
Lando knows Carlos was being sincere. They are great friends; going from seeing each other constantly to the quiet of winter break would naturally feel a bit empty—but "a bit" was all it was. Lando knows that, too.
So how should he answer, if he wants to sound as composed as Carlos?
Giving an immediate "Yes" was impossible—and, caught up in his own thoughts, he’d already missed the window anyway. But saying "No" was equally impossible; there was no reason to lie, also too much evidence against it.
"Did you miss me over the winter?"
God, how many times has he asked? As if he actually cared about the answer.
"Yes," he finally said, in the briefest way possible.
"Okay, next question."
Safe.
“Have you ever felt it too—
that in a single moment,
we were just one step from crossing the line?”
Lando watched Carlos throw the ball with perfect precision. He’d lost to the Spanish sports all-rounder again. But he couldn't care less. He just watched the way Carlos jumped with joy, his own smile almost as bright as the winner’s.
Adorable.
Then, Carlos sprinted toward him, pulling him down—not quite, Lando had already let himself fall back before Carlos could even pin him down. He’d never been so desperate to surrender to someone.
Now Carlos’ hands were pressing against his chest; he must have felt his heart hammering out of control. Carlos leaned in, closer and closer.
And closer.
Close enough to feel Carlos’s breath on his face, close enough that he felt he could close his eyes, close enough for him to start spiraling into dangerous daydreams—where this video could never be uploaded because they’d finally crossed the line.
Then, Carlos reached out to pinch his nose. Still laughing, pulling away just as quickly as he’d lunged; Lando wished he would stay just a second longer, even if it was just to pin him down for no reason at all.
Still, the final cut of the video had the end trimmed. But not because Carlos, in a moment of madness, kissed him, but because of Lando’s face—flushed red beyond any excuse—and the unmistakable bulge in his trousers.
Same old story, nothing new.
“If ‘I love you’ ever turned into words,
what would be destroyed, and what would finally be healed?"
Truth be told, Lando often suspects that Carlos knows.
He should. Carlos isn't blind to emotions. Lando still remembers how vividly Carlos used to gossip about other drivers’ relationships when they were teammates: who was jealous of whom, who looked down on whom, who wronged whom, who wanted to sleep with whom... even who actually had. He’d confirmed some, never would confirm others, but everything Carlos described always sounded so... plausible. If Carlos can see all that, then he couldn't possibly be blind to how much Lando craves him.
“You should get a girlfriend.”
If, despite all that, he still chooses to maintain this friendship, to keep looking at him with those eyes, to keep hugging him with that same intensity... then perhaps that in itself is the answer to how important Lando is to him. Maintaining such an intimate connection with someone who is in love with you isn't easy; Lando knows he couldn't do it himself. If Carlos has kept this up for so many years, he must have made sacrifices.
Perhaps this is the best answer there is.
Lando knows Carlos well enough now to know he will never give the other kind of answer—the one he desperately wants.
So it’s time for him to take a step back.
Of course, he hadn't been making any overt demands for years, but this time, he needed to learn how to be truly, genuinely satisfied with just being "friends." Carlos had made his efforts; Lando should too.
To maintain this relationship that will never be what he hopes for, but still too important to lose.
It wouldn't be that hard. Maybe all it would take is for Carlos to shave his head like Pierre did, and Lando would be over it in a heartbeat.
And even if it takes a lifetime, it’s hardly Lando’s fault.
Carlos simply cares too much about his hair.
“That is my bottom line—
to go on loving you in secret.”