#416

Mark Carney’s Canada

416: pink alexithymia, or loving alexithymic

[PT: 416: pink alexithymia, or loving alexithymic /end PT]

DEFINITION ⦂⠀An alexithymic person who has trouble discerning love, or who is loving.

Not an orientation, even if it may affect some people's orientation.

ADDITIONAL ⦂⠀Coined on the 26th of November, 2025.

TAGGING ⦂⠀@c1rcus-of-silliness @radiomogai

FATE [AO3]

There you go, baby’s first 416.

It's the first full day of winter break and Lando knows he should leave Monaco. Should take his packed suitcase and arrive at the airport just in time to catch his flight, away from this city and away from every ghost that haunts him. Spend time with Max Fewtrell and the other lads, just enjoy that bit of normality that he can already feel at the tips of his fingertips.

Letting things slip away seems to be a running theme this year. The season, his work and also Oscar. His ghost haunts the apartment and Lando always looks around the corners in the hope to find Oscar somewhere. But he isn't there. Didn't even fly back to Monaco. After the last race he boarded a flight to Australia without looking back. Ignoring the pieces of their relationship that he left behind.

And Lando prays to the gods that he can do the same. Maybe just rewind every stupid decisions. Or hide in his bed for the next weeks and only come out when he really have to.

Instead, his feet carry him trough the streets of the city. Beanie on his head and scarf pulled into his face. Still, he takes the longer route, walks by the coast where cold winds hit him square in the face. It feels good. To feel something that isn't tinged with the taste of heartbreak or racing in general.

When he arrives at the apartment complex, he scrunches his nose, not really able to remember how he ended up here. But - it feels right. The right place to hide.

His fingers typing in the door code without a second thought, the sound of the lock opening familiar in a way it shouldn't be. He spend to many nights here. Searching for the proximity of someone who would understand him. Who knew all the complicated feelings Lando was going trough while he smiled for the cameras - podium, after podium, after podium.

He takes two steps at once, not even bothering to wait for the elevator. Pulls the beanie from his head hallway, hands going trough his curls before he knocks on the door. It takes a while, long enough for Lando to think about running away again, going back to hiding in his apartment.

But then the door opens and suddenly all the tension from his body drowns away. Charles is .. he is always beautiful, something close to home blooming in Lando's chest every time Charles smiles.

"Mon amour, shouldn't you be on a plane?"

Lando doesn't answer, instead he lets himself fall forward. Hiding into the embrace of Charles arm's, face mushed into the soft skin of Charles neck. His skin is always so soft and he smells like .. just him. But it's so good, Landos heart beats a bit faster.

"Dunno. I just.."

He can't even say why he just ditched his Lads holiday. The thought alone heavy on his shoulders because he doesn't feel ready for all the questions and the pitiful glances of his friends.

What happened Bob?

Yeah, Lando doesn't want to live trough that.

He doesn't want to tell them that he got lost in the arms of someone who knows how it feels to fight against the person you love. Every damn time. To take points away from them, battles on track. How hard it is to keep all of that from the relationship itself. How Oscar found the messages on his phone and that Lando binned the championship in a delusional act because he thought Oscar would take him back when the stupid prize is off the table. But it didn't happened that way. Oscar never turned back around after he held up the championship trophy.

"It's okay mon amour. It's okay."

Charles wraps his arms a little bit tighter around Lando before he leads him into the apartment. It's warm and it smells like Charles cooked - or more so, tried to. Suddenly there is a beige flash of fur, Leo already jumping around their legs and begging for Lando's attention.

It makes him smile, really. Because that stupid dog (too small for his liking) really loves Lando and turns into a drama queen when he can't share a space (or more so the bed)

When Charles steps away to scold Leo, Lando bends down to pick him up, nuzzling his face into the soft fur.

"You pamper him.."

Charles giggles, high and breathy. Probably because he knew he isn't better, even got a paddock pass with the dogs name on it.

And then, Lando is on the couch. Charles wrapped a big fluffy blanket around his shoulders, Leo in his lap - sleeping and softly snoring. It's peaceful. And for the first time in weeks Landos thoughts slowly calm down. Not really stopping, but it's not as worst as it was before.

"You know, back then, with me and Max.."

Lando shakes his head, instead he sticks one hand out of the blanket, pulling Charles closer until he can cuddle up against the other one.

"I really don't wanna talk, Charles. Just .. need a break before everything starts again."

Because Charles would never judge him. He didn't judged him back then, after he won the Monaco GP and woke up next to Charles for the first time ever. Not, when Lando messaged him in the middle of the summer break because the pressure got to him. Not when Lando cried after Zandvoort - big, fat ugly tears. Charles kissed them away, told him everything would be okay in the end.