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Alex has been asked about Carlos since the press release of Lewis' move to Ferrari. In conferences, interviews, even his parents and closed ones asked about his possible-then teammate. He could only offer kind words and his superficial knowledge of what he knew about Carlos. It wasn't much, but it got the job done. Now, having been his teammate for a while, it dawned on Alex that his initial assessment on Carlos gathered throughout the years was just that- initial. But who’s he to say that he was wrong?
1.
Carlos enjoys the routine.
His team, composed of Spanish roots and Mediterranean blood, grounded him through the season, keeping him at the highest level. Biking, eating, sleeping, training, and F1. In this order. So Alex didn't read too much into his invites for bonding being turned down for a biking session. He knew not to expect anything from there onwards. What he was surprised by was how Carlos fitted into his schedule a certain fellow driver. At first, he deemed it completely normal, since the duo’s teamwork for years but take it with a grain of salt– he at least remembers to speak in his free time to his mother and not George… since George himself is also a driver and busy as well. And they do get to see each other on track, if you get the drift…
2.
His teammate is competitive.
And that’s not to say he isn’t. All drivers are bound to be competitive, since racing is about that. But Carlos keeps it up outside the car as well. Whoever gets to the stage first wins. Whose fans cheer the loudest wins. And sometimes, Alex takes part in it- mostly to entertain Carlos. Other times, he’s just not in the mood.
Outside racing, he’s more laid-back. He reckons Carlos has realized this as well. Maybe that's why he started seeking Charles out for a chess match during race weekends, or why they whisper during the parade and take their business everywhere. Was it a competition?
3.
Banter is a love language and Carlos thrives on it.
Looking back to all their interactions as teammates, Alex isn’t embarrassed to say he tried to match Carlos’ energy. It worked for the most part, but he could tell it didn’t come off as “authentic.” It wasn’t forced either. But they do get along, and Alex is happy with Carlos. They keep it professional and he knows banter comes within a safe space. Time will tell, but there's been this awestruck feeling ever since he watched some C^2 videos Ferrari uploaded. He knows there’s no way you can match those unless you are Charles and Carlos.
4.
Italy. (Not the country itself, but the Italian spirit.)
Alex heard the rumors about drivers that went to Ferrari and had a hard time engaging with the team, especially if you weren’t Italian. You also had to learn Italian as well, on top of driving for the prancing horse. And there’s the tifosi that want your blood. In his opinion, if it was so bad, Carlos would stop eating Italian food and speaking Italian altogether. The dude’s spanish for fuck sake and yet.
Alex would joke saying Carlos was forcing himself to speak English because of his work, 'cause else he would forget it. And while he drank his tea, watching his teammate enjoying his espresso corto, or ristretto, (Alex learned that from Carlos) he wondered if it was an ego thing.
5.
Charles. Charles Leclerc.
Good looking, and a good driver. Charles was a pretty boy driving a pretty nice car. In Alex’s eyes, he was the epitome of “cishet driver.” He had a girlfriend and a doggie that was plastered everywhere, dressed and walked on yachts that Alex himself hadn’t yet been offered the pleasure to.
Of course, having a dog didn’t qualify someone as straight but it had to start somewhere. Ever since he started getting along with his teammate, Alex had paid more attention than usual. Call him suspicious, but one had to wonder why ex-teammates still whisper to each other? when they really don’t need to.
It started by mere curiosity, since he was noisy like that and it ended with his hidden convictions being true. He didn’t think he would put himself in such a predicament but here he was, bearing an internal crisis, over his 2 fellow drivers being gay. Not gay separately– no, Alex wasn’t an homophobe– but together. As in, they’re meeting each other’s requirements, in the most lethal zone of all spaces.
Truthfully, he might have manifested it.
He recalled arriving at the circuit a bit later than usual. He went straight for his room, greeting everyone and hoping no one would scold him. It was the Singaporean traffic that did him dirty anyways.
On the way to his room he might’ve seen a red uniform, but he dismissed it quickly. His brain was playing tricks on him.
At the GP’s parade, Alex noticed Charles pushing past everyone and high five Carlos, both looking happy and content. They kept to each other until the last moments of the built-up before the lights out. After the race, when all the fans dispersed and only the working in the garages could be heard, Alex was preparing his departure as well. He got his luggage, taking the corner to the main hall, away from the drivers' room when he heard voices.
Carlos’ door was unlatched, his and another’s man's voice seeping through. Alex couldn't help himself and took two steps in their direction, listening for a bit. Just a bit.
“Charles” yelled Carlos slightly.
Alex got spooked. He turned around, fighting his legs to retreat.
Charles’ voice was unintelligible. Carlos laughed. They resumed to softer conversation, hushed words meeting Latin vowels and Alex felt a bit like a fool. Might have been Italian or Spanish, uttered so lovingly that he almost missed the sound of a belt unbuckled. Or shoes. Shoes do make noise like that right?
He almost forgot that he was intruding into his teammate's private deeds when much clearer than before Charles said “Amore”, and the door swung a bit, “hai lasciato la porta aperta.”
Alex’s soul left his body.
The door closed, but Alex was already too far away to care.