Chapter Text
The clock hit 17:55 in Spain, Carlos had already gave his interview about the race. He was now walking back to the garage, his manager at his side. Giving his shoulder a soft pat, trying to cheer him up even just a tad. But to no avail, Carlos felt bittersweet. He knew he shouldn’t be so swept away in his emotions. He had more important things ahead of him. The Jr Sainz sighed, as he stepped in the Williams garage, the team wasn’t the happiest, everyone had a slight sorrow in their eyes yet, James Vowles, the team principal didn’t seem all too engrossed in this sorrow. He called upon the team and gave a small speech about moving on, and focusing ahead. As he ended the speech, James turned to Carlos, gave him a meaningful look before he spoke in a more gentle yet assuring tone.
“Carlos. I don’t want to meddle with your personal feelings, but I need you to understand that you always have another chance. Next year. I will guarantee you in top five. Keep your head up, Sainz.”
Carlos nodded, as he muttered a soft ‘yessir’ under breath before James smiled softly at him and left him. And there, Carlos stood next to his car. A little wrecked up, but still managing to run. The sunset of Spain, shining on the deep ocean blue car like a soothing balm. Carlos slowly stepped closer, his fingers just barely above from the body of the car. Carlos’s gaze was locked on the front of the car where sun was shining on. The new Williams driver mind was in a whirlwind of emotions. Mind getting him in a wave of nostalgia. The car underneath his fingers suddenly turned bright red. The garage was also red. And soon, his white and blue fireproofs were red and white. And, the thing that made the Spainard part his lips was the figure smiling back to him. On the other side of the car, the figure was smiling as it made its way in front of Carlos.
“Hey…sweetie. Heh…great race today. I know, not the best you wanted. But….at least it’s something, no? Don’t be sad. Calos..”
The unpronounced r in the Spanish drivers name, made the man almost want to smile. The figure in front of him, which now has lost his bright smile to a more bittersweet smile. The figures hands slowly reached on Carlos’s shoulders. The 16 numbered driver locked his eyes on Sainz. Moving his hand closer to his neck in a slow and lazy way.
“Come on….cheer up. You look like you’re about to cry, sweetie~”
The cheeky nickname on the Monegasque drivers lips was not what it really meant. It was something that they used to get on eachothers nerves. Some would call it flirting while most called it friendly rivalry. But…what about the two of them? What did they really think about it? It was never acknowledged yet, they both wanted the nickname to be…what it be. But, only in these moments, that both the Ferrari drivers agreed upon it. Carlos’s hands soon rested on the figures snatched waist. The one that his hands were used to grab. Carlos found himself leaning on the other driver, his nose in the crook of the others neck. His fingers soon tightened on the waist. Which made the figure gasp ever so slightly.
“Carlos…? Y-you- are you crying mate? Oh my…ha- you big baby. There, there… go ahead, cry.”
The figures voice was soft yet still in a playful manner, trying to make the teary eyed driver happy.
“Mmm…Carlos, it’s okay. Don’t be scared. You will have another chance. Don’t worry. I’m here…sweetie. Come on…talk to me.”
Sainz agonizingly tore his face away from the sweet driver in front. Yet his hands still remained on his waist, both of their abdomens slightly touching eachother.
“Yeah…sorry, sweetheart. I- I’m okay now…I guess I really needed you. Heh. It’s- it’s just..you know…home race. And…and I really really wanted to…at least be on the podium.”
The spainard forced himself to smile, but his eyes were too teary to focus, and he let the tears fall. His voice faltering slightly. That’s when Charles’s eye brows furrowed into a small shock and guilt. His hands flew to Carlos’s cheek, wiping the stray tear.
“Baby…no- I-I mean…Carlos…ha…don’t- don’t cry. Please, it isn’t your fault…they- they gave you the wrong strategy..”
Before Leclerc could finish, Carlos pulled Leclercs hand away from his face.
“No, Charles. They gave me the worse strategy so..so I’d help you. Okay? I- …it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have listened to them…I always do this…it’s my home race…I could’ve take the win…I-“
Carlos closed his eyes, his hand covering his eyes as he wiped the remaining tears. When he raised his head back again to look at Charles, his face was stone cold. His hands had long left Charles’s waist. He gave a small squeeze to Charles’s hand before he turned away and waved
“It’s fine. Charles. Let’s just…go. We need to catch the plane.”
The bitter words hang in the air behind Carlos as Charles was stunned in his place. The meaning all too cruel for Leclerc. Left him paralyzed for a moment. His lips pursed into a pout, and tears formed in his eyes. Before he quickly shook it all away. Charles looked around the red garage once more as he then sighed heavily and shakily. His smaller steps following Carlos’s bigger ones.
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Carlos suddenly gasped, as he felt the hot burning sting of his tears. He looked around, his mind calming down from the memory lane. He was still at the garage, his hand now resting on the blue Williams car. The sun had now set before his teary eyes, as he stared into the distance. He finally moved as the sky began to turn dark, his legs aching more than necessary as he dragged his heavy body out of the garage and into the now lonely paddock road. He was still wearing his team t-shirt and some quickly slapped on black sweatpants.
Carlos finally was on his way to his own car after he got his stuff packed, which didn’t took more than 20 minutes, he was lazily walking down the paddock road…and suddenly he heard a voice behind him, a voice…he knew too well…
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TBC(idk when)