#csj

Nothing but a thin sheet lay covering your body as you lay soundly. The sun hidden behind thick curtains keeping your sleeping form sound. Carlos laid awake beside you, back propped up against the headboard. His hand slowly tucking strains of hair behind your ear and out of your face. Once all was back in place he opted to gently trace the curves on your face not ready to stop admiring you. His finger curved over your nose and down your chin, then back you to your eyebrow. The gestures slowly pulled you awake as you stirred slowly.

“Good morning princesa.” He whispered his voice deeper due to the early morning. You hummed in response stretching your arms and back. The rustle of the sheets all to be heard.

“Good morning… I should get back to my room.”

You laughed rolling away from Carlos and grabbing your phone from the night stand. The split in the curtains guiding your hand in the dark room.

“Ai no. Stay a little longer.” He pouted reaching to pull you into his chest. A full laugh leaves your lips as you accept his touch.

“I know. I know. But we have so much to do today. Media events before the race are the best.” You laugh again. The noticeable sarcasm in your voice rumbles Carlos’s bare chest with a laugh. Your nails absentmindedly trace shapes on his torso as you soak in the few moments of this. Moments of tender touches and no words said rarely happened.

“My trainer is going to be here in 20.” Carlos spoke after a few moments breaking the blissful morning and sucking reality back into the environment.

“Right. That means I need to be down at the press conference in 30. Those McLaren boys better not be late.” You respond with a smile getting out of bed and grabbing your thrown around items of clothes from the previous events that night. Carlos rolled his eyes at your comment.

“Hey now. If I wasn’t late that day we wouldn’t be what we are now.” He jokes back as he slips into his boxers.

“What are we?” You question an eyebrow raised continuing the antics but eager to hear an actual answer. When Carlos was still with McLaren he was late to a meeting and when you went to find him, he had enough courage to explain himself

~~~

“I swear I’m gonna kill him. Last race of the season and he chooses now to be late for the group press conference.” You speak quietly to yourself as you sped walk to the drivers room, Carlos’ drivers room. A quick knock and you’re turning the knob. Carlos has his back toward you, his arms crossed and foot tapping anxiously on the ground.

“There you are!” You announce and he quickly turns.

“Sorry to scare you but we gotta go. We’re already late.” You continue and motion for him to follow.

“Wait.” He quickly says running a hand through his hair adding to the volume of it. You stop and turn to face him. He’d made distance trying to stop you from rushing out and now stands right in front of you. He opens his mouth to speak but pauses as you being to fix his hair and put it back in place. The press has already gotten too many clips of his crazy hair after the races when he shed his balaclava. His next move stunned you. His lips were on yours, his hands on your hips pulling you into him. You’d be stupid to deny the feelings you had pint up for him all season and returned the kiss, hands finding his hair ruining the work you just put into it. His body relaxed against yours, the gutsy move paying off eased his tense body and he hands began to travel. Carlos slipped his tongue in to deepen the kiss and began pulling up your McLaren polo. You let him continue removing the article of clothing, getting caught up in the moment. Finally expressing the desire between you both. Your hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head revealing his tone stomach you’ve only caught glimpses of. Your hands eagerly ran over his torso and slid to undo his jeans. As you were about to slip them down, your phone began ringing.

“Fuck!” You cursed breaking the kiss with Carlos and grabbing your phone out of your back pocket. “We have to go. That’s Zak asking where we are. Later?” You question nervously looking into his eyes.

“por supuesto, of course Y/n.” He responds a smirk held on his face as his eyes gaze down your exposed half. You smile back and redress yourself while Carlos does too. And that was the beginning of this. No confessions made, just sex.

~ ~ ~

“W-We’re just friends.” He finally responds after stuttering before finding his words. The three words hang heavy on your heart. You nod slowly throwing your shirt over your head before the raw hurt sets in. Every time you’re questioned about long glances, lingering touches or teased by Norris about how “close you two are and he’s not even on the team anymore.” that sentence that just left Carlos’ mouth is reiterated. “Just friends.” But as your mind has had to convince your heart many times, that is the truth. Every time the subject is touched on the ache in your heart is opened again with those two words. “Just friends.” But having a piece of Carlos had to be enough because that’s all you’d ever get. That’s all this ever is going to be.

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” You retort the forced sarcasm hinting under every word. You turn and smile at him. A pit grows in your stomach searching for confidence to articulate how you actually feel.

Carlos has opened the curtains letting the light in making it easier to gather all your belongings. He laughs lightly his smile not reaching his eyes and opts to just nod instead of speaking.

“Solo amigos.” He mutters quietly to himself as he looks down at the shirt held in his hands. A sigh escapes as he runs his thumb over the material before putting it on. He eyes don’t find yours, gaze stuck looking out the window. Carlos had many moments of deep in thought always being one to internalize rather than speak it out, he’d really share what’s going on inside his head because if he did, this would be more then just friends. And Carlos wasn’t ready to face that no matter how much he new it hurt you.

“Good luck. Be safe.” You call as you peck his cheek and sneak out of the room. That goodbye was your signature when he was at McLaren, always spoken to him and Lando after you were done doing media obligations with them. But now it’s become just his personal goodbye from you on race days. That salutation just for his ears now.

~

“That’s a Ferrari in the wall. 55. Sainz in the wall. Oh and we have a red flag. That does not look good.” Crofty’s voice announces. The words ring in your ears as your eyes stay put on the big screen showing the Ferrari crumbled against the barriers. Your hand has shot to your mouth as hot tears prick your eyes. Carlos still hasn’t exited the vehicle and each passing second brings your anxieties to a new peak.

“Please be okay. God please be okay. Please.” You beg repeatedly to yourself as the scene is at a stand still, your leg bouncing up and down as anticipation builds. Finally a hand is shown raising from the car and you see Carlos emerging pulling himself from the car. You finally breath as the sounds around you seem to fade back in. He walks away and the marshals meet him half way wrapping an arm around his back to support his slow moving figure. He enters the medical car and disappears from your view again. Your eyes finally break their fixation on the screen and find themselves looking at the ground as a sigh leaves your lips. Your chest continues heaving, your bodies way of trying to calm itself. Ripping the papaya orange headset off you begin rushing to the medical area on the track hoping to reach Carlos before they send him to the hospital. The noise around fades back in from ringing to the sound of your sneakers scuffing against the carpeted hall.

The door into the medical area used all your strength to push open. The door itself not being heavy, the fear of what you’ll go into subconsciously holding you back. Always easier to hold back rather than push through, just like your feelings for Carlos.

The medical team is surrounding a bed and all that’s to see is legs in a red race suit. You feel the hot tears bridge your eyes as you slowly take a step closer. Between the medical staff Carlos’ eyes find yours. His eyes widen and he clears his throat trying to sit up a bit before wincing and reaching to grasp his shoulder. Seeing his reaction to a small movement speeds you up and you enter the circle of people. His fireproofs discarded as doctors examine his shoulder. The tears freely slide down your cheeks as you stay silent listening to what is being said.

“When the ambulance arrives we’ll transport to hospital just to be safe and get x-rays. Looks like just scrapes and bruises though.” You hear the head doctor explain. Carlos nods along to his words and tries to adjust his position again.

“Gracias.” He says curtly holding a wince in as his shoulder brushes against the bed again while scooting himself into a more sitting position. Your heart aches seeing him in the position he was in this morning when you woke but in a battered condition. The medical team finish’s the check and clear the bed leaving the two of you with some privacy.

“H - how are you?” You mange the slow stream of tears still finding their way down your cheeks checking on your nose or lips, the same spots Carlos spent admiring this morning.

“Princesa…Please don’t cry I can’t stand to see you cry.” He responds ignoring the question as one hand comes to cup your cheek wiping a tear from your eye before it can cascade down the same track the others had. You nod softly leaning into the warmth of his hand and let your eyes slowly examine his body, a few small bruises already show on his torso and an ice pack lay over his shoulder.

“I’m okay really just precautionary checks now. You didn’t have to come but thank you Y/n.” He speaks again clearing his throat as his eyes avert themselves around the room spotting all the people around within ear shot. He removes his hand and nods, signaling an end of conversation and holds his gaze down to the hand that was just comfortingly on your cheek. Taken aback by his actions you step back and feel your eyebrows involuntary furrow.

“No no I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand by and be this person.” Your words come out in a whisper trying to protect his reputation from listening ears. To others it seems his old media aide is checking in, but the longer you linger the more eyes are on you.

“What do you mean?” He questions leaning forward slightly to hear your better. He expression matches yours.

“I care about you Carlos.” You state holding firm to this new courage inside of you. No sarcastic comments masking the hidden meaning in your words, just the truth. His eyes bore into yours, mouth ajar at a loss for words. You ache to run your fingers through his hair calming the volume like the day this all started. He does the task for you and fails miserably his hair wilder than before but still doesn’t speak. “And this right here, says enough for me to know.” You speak again referencing his silence at the confession.

“You know we can’t-“ He tries to reason licking his lips as his mind searches for the right words. Carlos doesn’t look away trying to read your expression.

“I think you’re scared and afraid, afraid to love me.” You respond finishing the sentence for him. He winces not from the pain of his shoulder but because of the way your words pierced his heart.

“Amor mio please we can talk about this tonight.” He pleads reaching a hand back out to you. You step back away from the bed.

“Don’t call me that Carlos because you don’t. I was nothing but someone who kept your bed warm.” You find the words he didn’t have the courage to say himself.

“Y/n please?” His voice cracks hoping those two words are enough to keep you here, enough to have a few more moments to get his words together and explain himself. You see the tears brim in his panicked eyes as realization hits the small part of you he had has slipped from his grasp. How all he wanted that day you showed up in his drivers room was to ask you on a proper date and take it slow, but he didn’t have his words like he doesn’t right now. He blew it. Carlos had no other option to watch you turn and walk away from him.