Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They had arrived in Montreal two days early.

Carlos had suggested it first, an excuse to escape the noise, to reset before the chaos of a triple-header. Lando hadn’t hesitated. Time off-track was rare now, and even rarer together. This was a pocket of calm before the storm.

They had trained that morning: light cardio and a half-serious paddle match that Lando somehow won. There was teasing, swearing, and laughter in the gym. Like it used to be. Familiar. Grounding. At some point, Lando realised his cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

In another life, they might have gone for a long walk by the river, grabbed dinner somewhere tucked away. But those days were gone. Cameras followed them now, fans with phones, noise they couldn’t escape.

So they ordered in and ate cross-legged on the floor of Carlos’s suite, limbs loose, shoulders brushing. The lights were soft. The view from the window was all skyscrapers and reflections in the black water. It felt safe.

Now, they were on the couch, Lando stretched out, his socked feet resting on Carlos’s thighs. They were halfway through a compilation of cursed memes, the kind that made no sense but always made them laugh.

Until Carlos paused the video.

Lando looked over, puzzled. “Wi-Fi dead again?”

Carlos didn’t answer straight away. He was still holding the tablet, but his eyes were fixed somewhere else. His posture had shifted, calm but intent, as if bracing for something.

“Can I talk to you about something?” he asked quietly.

Lando groaned. “Not that tone. You sound like you’re about to tell me you’re retiring or something.”

Carlos huffed a laugh. “No. Just thinking. About us... about trying something.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Trying something like what? A new protein shake? Skydiving? Yoga with goats?”

Carlos cracked a smile but didn’t bite. “No. I mean... something physical. With you.”

Lando’s first reaction was disbelief, but when he looked over to a calm and focused Carlos, the humour slipped from him face. ”You mean… sexually?”

Carlos met his gaze. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

Lando stared at him. He looked serious, watching him intently, all open and earnest. The silence stretched.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t dreamt of this. He had, often, in flashes of hope he’d always forced down. But now, faced with it, with Carlos here, real and intent, Lando’s mind flooded with doubt.

Lando sat up slightly, his legs drawing in. “Wait. Are you serious?”

Carlos held his gaze. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

Lando didn’t know what to say. He’d had years of imagined moments, of impossible scenarios, always dismissed with a joke or locked away with a sigh. But now Carlos was here, not teasing, not drunk, just… calmly saying it.

Say no! This is the worst idea ever! His brain screamed it on loop, desperate for him to be rational, to protect his heart. You’re going to regret this. You’re going to get hurt. You’ve been in love with this man for years, and he’s never made a move. You have feelings, real feelings, and he’s asking for fun.

And yet, he couldn’t deny it. He’d been dreaming of Carlos’s body for what felt like forever. He couldn’t even remember when it started. And now, Carlos was right here. Asking. Pull back now, before it’s too late.

But the idea of touching him, of being allowed to touch him, was so appealing, so dangerously tempting, it drowned out everything else. The warnings. The doubt. Even the ache. Lando swallowed hard.

“You have a girlfriend,” he said, before he could stop himself.

Carlos just shrugged, unreadable.

It was quite for a long moment, and Lando swallowed. “When you said you wanted to try something...”

“Mm?”

Carlos was looking at him pointedly, but not pressing.

“What did you mean?”

Carlos shrugged. “Whatever we want. We start slow, maybe some kissing. If we like it, we try making out, and if we like that too, we can try something else.”

Simple. Straightforward. Pragmatic. 100% Carlos.

Lando sighed. “Have you ever kissed a man?”

“No,” Carlos stated simply.

Then he gave a small smile. “You once told me that being with a guy feels different. That the sensations are different. I remember that. I’d like to understand how different it is.”

Lando looked at him. He looked so earnest, just waiting for him to reply, ready to accept  any answer.

He remembered that conversation. He had just come out to a few close people as bisexual, and Carlos had asked him a lot of questions. Not pressing, not inappropriate, just with the genuine interest he always showed when he was trying to understand something new.

“That was years ago. Do you remember what I said?”

Carlos nodded. “Yeah. I think about it sometimes.” He quietly added, “It stuck with me. Maybe I’ve thought about it more than I should’ve.”

Lando looked away. That admission hit him. The idea that Carlos had been holding onto something he said years ago... he didn’t know what to do with that. Still, he hesitated.

“Carlos… we’re good like this,” he said, quieter now. “I don’t want things to get weird between us.”

Carlos tilted his head. “We’ve always talked about everything. We’re still us. That doesn’t change. We go slow, and if anything feels off, or weird, or wrong, we stop. Simple.”

Lando swallowed, throat tight. He wanted it. God, he wanted him. Don’t do this!

“I just…” He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say out loud what he was thinking: I don’t want to get hurt. That was too close, too raw. So he said instead, “I don’t want to lose what we have.”

Carlos’s voice was steady. “I don’t want to lose it either. That’s why I’m asking you.”

Lando looked away. The weight of it all pressed against his ribs.

Carlos didn’t speak again. He just waited. Gave him space. The silence stretched, warm and tense at the same time.

And then Lando muttered, “Fuck,” under his breath, and shifted.

He climbed into Carlos’s lap without ceremony, knees on either side, and pressed their foreheads together. Carlos stayed perfectly still, letting Lando lead.

Then Lando tilted his head and kissed him.

It started soft, light, tentative, more breath than pressure. A brush of lips. A slow, testing moment.

Carlos kissed back slowly, and the kiss deepened gradually, mouths moving together, breaths tangled, hands hesitant. Carlos’s hands settled on Lando’s hips. They kissed for minutes that felt like mere instants and eternities at once, sliding closer, their bodies aligning, both eager for any contact. Long, unbroken stretches of closeness. Lando couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed anyone like this: slow, open, reverent. When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Lando stayed leaning against Carlos’s chest.

Carlos exhaled a shaky breath. “Wow.”

Lando let out a half-laugh, forehead still pressed to Carlos’s. “You’re still sure?”

Carlos nodded. “Yeah. Just… don’t laugh if I panic.”

“I won’t,” Lando smiled softly. “But I might mock you gently later, depending on how dramatic it is.”

Carlos huffed a laugh, nerves easing just slightly.

They kissed again. This time it was deeper, more sure. Tongues sliding together, while their erections brushed through layers of clothes, and both moaned softly at the contact. It was just a kiss, and yet Carlos had never experienced anything that felt so intense, so intimate. Lando ground down tentatively, and Carlos groaned low and pulled him down even more, jerking his hips in response.

Lando pulled back just enough to ask, “Bed?”

Carlos’s wide grin was enough of an answer.

Chapter Text

They stumbled towards the bed, laughing between kisses, tugging at shirts, fumbling to take them off.

Lando climbed onto the bed first, already bare-chested, and sat on his heels. Carlos stayed standing a moment longer and, with a grin, slowly stripped off the rest of his clothes: pants, underwear, socks.

Lando stared at him eagerly. “Your body should be illegal, you know that?”

Carlos laughed before climbing onto the mattress and kissing Lando breathless. When he pulled back and sat up, his fingers traced light patterns in an almost contemplative way, before he reached up to slide Lando’s clothes off, hands reverent along his thighs and hips, his gaze darkened with heat. Then he looked up. “Tell me if I do something wrong. Or if you want to stop.”

“I will.”

Carlos didn’t wait. He leaned down to kiss along the beautiful body beneath him, tracing every line, every muscle with his lips. From his clavicles to his pecs, stopping to tease at his nipples that tugged at the touch, to his stomach, taking his time to place reverent kisses on the hipbones and below his navel.

His hands were steady, but Lando could feel the tension in them, the careful uncertainty of someone doing this for the first time but wanting to get it right. Carlos moved slowly, deliberately, eyes flicking up to meet Lando’s before lowering again. When Carlos wrapped his lips around him, Lando let out a broken breath, head tipping back. It wasn’t perfect, his rhythm uneven at first, his movements cautious, but there was something raw and devastating in how focused he was, how present. Every flick of his tongue, every slow press forward felt like discovery. Lando’s fingers curled in Carlos’s hair, not to guide but to hold on, grounding him, telling him he was doing good.

But it wasn’t just good. It was overwhelming, because it was Carlos. Because he was trying, learning him, giving him this with quiet reverence. And Lando felt it in every nerve, every rush of heat. This was already better than anything he’d ever had, not because of technique, but because of who was there.

When it started to feel like too much, Lando gasped and pushed Carlos gently away. When Carlos pulled back, Lando’s eyes were wide. “Holy shit.” His fingers gripped the sheets.

Carlos grinned, satisfied with himself, lips slick and swollen.

Lando smiled in return, then without warning he flipped them with a grin. “Now my turn.”

Bit by bit, Lando explored. Kisses along Carlos’s skin. Light touches. Nothing forceful. Just intention and patience.

Carlos had no idea it could feel like this. So gentle, so reverent. Every brush of Lando’s lips sent heat spiralling through him. When he felt Lando’s mouth close around him, he gasped, hips jerking slightly.

“Shit! Sorry,” he breathed.

“It’s okay,” Lando said, not missing a beat. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

Carlos let out a broken laugh. “You sound like my physio.”

“Well, I’ve seen you naked about as often,” Lando muttered, then added, “You’re doing fine.”

Carlos let himself fall back slightly, bracing on his elbows. The sensation was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. He glanced down, watching Lando, his messy curls, the crease of focus between his brows. It wasn’t just arousing. It was… beautiful.

He groaned. “You’re too good at this.”

Lando pulled back briefly. “Complaining?”

“Absolutely not,” Carlos said, his voice low. “Just stunned.”

“Good,” Lando murmured, and sank down on him again with practiced ease, taking Carlos deep until the tip brushed the back of his throat and then slid further, hitting the soft resistance at the very end.

Carlos gasped, stunned, his entire body jolting as pleasure surged through him like a live wire. His head fell back. “Dios. You’re... this is fucking amazing.”

Lando held him there, throat tight around him, eyes flicking up with quiet pride and a hint of mischief. He knew exactly what effect he was having. And he liked it. He hummed, so that Carlos could feel the vibration, and Carlos was left speechless, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it, by how good Lando was and how confidently he owned it.

It became too much, too fast. “Wait... stop! Joder, I’ll... stop!”

Lando pulled off, looking incredibly smug, the little bastard.

Carlos was panting heavily, looking a little lost. Then he suddenly seemed to remember something and stumbled off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

He returned with a small bottle of lube and a condom.

“You always carry those?”

“No. I wanted to be prepared. In case you said yes.”

Lando blinked, stunned, then burst out laughing. “You are overconfident, aren’t you?”

Carlos replied with fake indignation. “Not overconfident. Just optimistic.”

Then his look turned more gentle. “You’re still sure?”

Lando nodded.

“You’ll have to guide me,” Carlos said, open and honest.

“Okay,” Lando whispered softly, then grabbed a pillow and reached to put it under his hips.

Carlos looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Better angle,” Lando mumbled.

“Oh,” Carlos said, and moved between Lando’s legs, staying there, just looking. Lando should have felt exposed, but the situation was oddly reassuring.

“Like what you see?” he teased.

“Yeah...” Carlos whispered, in awe.

Something soft in his eyes. There was trust there, quiet and steady. Carlos leaned in, kissing his inner thighs first, taking his time, listening to Lando’s breath. When he reached the crease just beneath, he glanced up.

“Still okay?”

“More than okay,” Lando murmured, one hand slipping into Carlos’s hair. “Start slow. Just follow me.”

Carlos nodded. He let his mouth trail lower, tentative but curious, until his lips met the soft skin between Lando’s cheeks. The first stroke of his tongue was light, experimental, and Lando’s sharp inhale told him everything he needed. Carlos tried again, firmer this time, and felt Lando melt beneath him, legs twitching slightly, fingers tightening just a little.

“Like that?” Carlos asked, voice muffled.

“Yeah,” Lando breathed, voice thick. “Just like that.”

Carlos stayed there, licking and exploring until Lando was panting and half-writhing on the bed, hips tilting toward every touch. When Lando reached toward the nightstand and handed him the bottle of lube, their eyes met, and Carlos saw it again. That unwavering trust.

He took the bottle and opened it, the quiet click-pop of the cap breaking the silence. The sound sent a strange thrill through Carlos. This was real. This was happening.

He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, warming it briefly in his palm. Then, before doing anything else, he wrapped one hand gently around Lando’s cock, stroking slowly from base to tip. Just enough pressure to keep him grounded.

Lando exhaled shakily, eyelids fluttering. “Fuck. Yeah, that’s good.”

Carlos leaned in, pressing soft kisses to Lando’s hip as he kept stroking, slow and deliberate. Then he brought his lubed fingers lower, beginning with a single, careful press.

Lando guided him with his voice, calm but breathless. “Go slow. Just one finger first.”

Carlos obeyed, pushing in gradually, inch by inch, eyes fixed on Lando’s face for any flicker of discomfort. But there was only heat, anticipation. Once fully inside, Carlos stilled, waiting.

Lando’s voice was a whisper. “Curl your finger. Up, just a bit... there.”

Carlos adjusted, curling his finger as told. The reaction was instant. Lando arched slightly, a soft moan breaking from his lips.

“There,” Lando gasped. “That’s it.”

Carlos swallowed, stunned by the sound, the feel of it. He kept the rhythm light, deliberate, letting Lando breathe into it.

“Add another,” Lando said a moment later, voice hoarse.

Carlos withdrew just enough to press a second finger alongside the first, slower this time, more cautious. Lando winced, just slightly, and Carlos stilled.

“Okay?”

Lando nodded, biting his lip.

Carlos waited. He stroked Lando’s cock again with his free hand, slow and grounding, until Lando’s hips began to move again, seeking more.

“You can move.”

Carlos did, carefully curling both fingers now, brushing that same spot again, watching as Lando’s mouth parted in a silent moan.

Eventually, Lando whispered, “One more. Just go slow.”

Carlos slicked his fingers again and pressed the third in, slower than ever. He felt Lando’s body tense and breathe through it, and waited until he was sure.

“Okay?” he asked.

Lando nodded, eyes dark, lips parted. “You’re doing so fucking well.”

Carlos could only stare, stunned and focused, overwhelmed by how much he wanted to get this right. His fingers moved gently, reverently, and under his touch, Lando opened for him completely.

Lando moaned, then swatted his hand gently. “C’mon, I’m good.”

Carlos paused and withdrew his fingers carefully. “How do you like it?”

Lando whispered, “Like this. Face to face.”

Carlos nodded, kissed him, and reached for the condom. He tore the wrapper open, carefully rolled it on, then slicked himself thoroughly with lube, taking a deep breath before moving closer.

He settled between Lando’s legs, body trembling with anticipation. One hand guided himself, the other resting on Lando’s hip.

He pressed in slowly, body shaking with tension, every muscle straining with control. Lando exhaled deeply beneath him.

“Too much?”

Lando shook his head. “No, it’s good. Just... give me a second.”

Carlos remained still, hovering over him, watching Lando breathe through it, trying to adjust to the stretch. He studied every twitch of his brow, every shift in his breath. Only when Lando’s body relaxed beneath him did Carlos move again.

He began with shallow thrusts, slow and careful, barely a rocking of hips, feeling the way Lando’s body opened around him, how warm and tight he felt, how easily they fit. Each stroke was measured, reverent. Their eyes met and held. It was grounding, consuming, impossibly intimate.

Carlos kissed him again, their mouths moving together in slow rhythm, matching the movement of their bodies.

Then Lando’s legs lifted and wrapped around his hips, drawing him in deeper. The rhythm changed, gradually, instinctively, until Carlos was thrusting in earnest, hips rolling, pace building with every gasp, every moan that spilled from Lando’s lips.

It was intense. Almost too much. Carlos watched every breath, adjusted every angle. His hand found Lando’s and held it tight.

When Lando arched beneath him, moaning his name, his voice hoarse and needy “I’m close,” he cried out, desperate, almost pleading.

And when Carlos choked out a broken “Please,” Lando understood that he had been holding back, waiting for him, and that was all it took to push him over the edge. He came with a sharp gasp, warmth spilling between their stomachs as his body clenched around Carlos, pulling him into his own release.

So they came together, trembling and breathless, lost in the ecstasy and the stupor of it all.

Carlos collapsed gently on top of him, catching himself on his elbows just enough to avoid crushing him. Their foreheads touched, skin damp, hearts racing in sync.

They stayed like that, holding on, breathing each other in, not needing anything else.

Lando spoke first. “Are you alright?”

Carlos looked down at him, eyes soft, and held him tight. “Me? Joder. It was incredible. And you?”

Lando smirked lazily. “You were amazing. And I’m not just saying that because you blew my mind with surprise.”

Carlos chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to Lando’s cheek, still buried inside him. Then he pulled out with a gentle movement and slid out of bed again, disappearing into the bathroom. He returned with a warm, damp towel and cleaned Lando gently, with a care that made Lando’s chest ache.

When he was done, he dropped the towel aside, climbed back onto the bed, and pulled the sheets up to cover them both. Lando shifted onto his side, and Carlos mirrored him. They lay face to face now, close enough to share breath.

Lando’s arm looped loosely around Carlos’s waist.

Carlos stretched out one arm beneath Lando’s pillow and brought the other up to his face, thumb brushing gently across his cheekbone. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.

They were both smiling.

Carlos was the first to break the silence. “Will you stay here for the night?”

Lando didn’t hesitate. “I’d love to.”

He shuffled closer, tucking his face into the crook of Carlos’s neck. Carlos wrapped his arms around him, holding him steady, letting their bodies settle into the quiet.

Lando felt so good, so safe, so impossibly perfect that, for once, he managed to push the thoughts of future heartache deep into the shadows of his mind.

And just for a while, he let himself be held by the quiet bliss of the moment.

After a while, Carlos felt the rhythm of Lando’s breathing change, growing slower and even, the unmistakable softness of sleep creeping in.

Carlos leaned in, kissed his forehead gently, and whispered, “Duerme bien, mi amor.”