#hgiftbn

[carletes]

oh how about carlando cockwarming?

It was because Carlos was as sweet, considerate, and careful as he was that Lando loved when he wasn’t. And mostly, it was Lando’s fault. He pushed Carlos, liked making his eyes flash, liked seeing how far he could go before Carlos’ resolve broke.

But sometimes, Lando didn’t have to do anything at all. Like one day, when Lando was in a conference call, late at night, irritated because it was cold and he wanted to be in bed. Duty called, and so did timezones, so Lando had to crawl out of his comfortable bed, from beside his hot boyfriend, stand in the living room. Staring at the swirling snow outside. Forehead gently banging against the window.

Which was why he was able to see Carlos approaching, his reflection drawing closer to Lando’s.

Lando glanced back with an apologetic grimace. He put himself on mute and said, “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, babe.”

“It was cold,” Carlos said instead, and Lando was too distracted to notice, then, the look in Carlos’ eyes.

“Yeah. Freezing out there. D’you wanna hike up the heat?”

But Carlos just went to the couch, their large sectional, and laid down in it. He patted the space in front of him. Lando shook his head. “I have the meeting.”

“Come here.”

“Carlos, I’ll be there when I can–”

“Lando.”

And Lando shut up immediately. Carlos was looking at him intently, his voice sharp. Then he said, less sharp but still commanding, and fuck that went straight to Lando’s dick: “Ven aquí.”

Lando immediately walked over. He sat down in front of the sectional, phone still clenched in his hands, AirPods in his ears, and knelt, gazing at Carlos.

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Good boy,” Carlos said. “Strip for me.”

Lando did. He set his phone aside and took his sweatshirt off, careful not to jostle his AirPods, then kicked off his sweatpants. He was naked, shivering slightly in the cold, AirPods incongruous against his nudity—but he knew Carlos liked that. Liked that Lando could be the CEO in his own world while Carlos (at least sometimes) called the shots in their shared world, simultaneously.

“I’m cold,” Carlos said, his voice calm, even. “I need you to warm me up.”

“How, daddy?” Lando asked, eager to please, desperate to please. He knelt down in front of Carlos again and made a high, desperate noise as Carlos ran a hand through his curls.

“So pretty,” Carlos murmured, and Lando glowed with the praise. “Turn around and get on your hands and knees for me.”

Lando did. In his ears, whoever he was speaking with (it didn’t matter, he didn’t care) was saying something about profit margins against marketing costs, and Lando was just aware enough to know he needn’t be concerned. He presented himself to Carlos, and Carlos leaned over and ran a broad, large hand over Lando’s ass. It was an appraisal. Lando was hard with it. He spread Lando’s ass, and Lando moaned softly.

“You don’t need any preparation,” Carlos said, satisfied. “Tell me why?”

“Because you fucked me so good before bed, daddy,” Lando explained, flush with pride. It was good, Carlos fucking Lando from below while Lando gasped above him, coming over Carlos’ abs without warning as Carlos just grinned delightedly.

“That’s right. Do you want to do something for me?”

“Anything,” Lando said, turning back around, wanting Carlos’ approval more than anything. Carlos put a thumb to Lando’s lips and Lando opened his mouth.

“Like I said. I’m cold,” Carlos said. “I’m going to warm my cock in your little asshole.”

Lando moaned. It was embarrassing. He should have been embarrassed. But he wasn’t. He just nodded over and over, whispering, “Please. Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please use me. Daddy. However you want.”

“That’s my good boy,” Carlos said, and he patted the couch again. Lando immediately slipped in, back against Carlos’ chest, and Carlos wrapped an arm around Lando and pulled him into position. “Baby boy. Perfect for me.”

And without warning, Carlos pushed into Lando, his cock thick and wonderful and insistent. Lando mewled, eyes fluttering.

“Lando, you still there?”

Goddammit.

“Answer your people, Lando,” Carlos said quickly, right into Lando’s ear. His cock, his cock, it felt so good. “You have daddy’s permission.”

Shaking, Lando scrambled for his phone and unmuted himself. He cleared his throat.

“I’m here. Everything sounds good so far. I think we can launch the campaign in a month.”

“Glad you agree. We have a couple more things to discuss, and then we should be good to wrap up.”

Lando muted himself just as Carlos whispered, “My impressive Lando. My successful Lando. Do they know you’re just a cockwarmer at home?”

Lando’s cock twitched with that. He bit his lip and shook his head.

“Do they know who fucks you every night?”

Every inch of Lando’s body ached to push back against Carlos, fuck himself on Carlos. But he was a good cockwarmer. He wouldn’t move.

“Yes, daddy,” Lando said, as the men on his phone spoke about views and interactions and influence collaborations. “They’ve seen me on your arm lots of times before.”

“And if I asked you for this in front of them?” Carlos whispered, pulling Lando deeper onto him, his cock pulsing inside Lando. “If I told you to sit on my lap, let me use you like this, in the middle of a business meeting…would you?”

The vision of it. Lando sitting in Carlos as his throne, leading a meeting, his asshole full with Carlos’…

“Yes, daddy,” Lando said, and he turned and smiled at Carlos. “I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?”

And Carlos’ smile was surprisingly sweet. He leaned in and kissed Lando’s lips. “My perfect Lando. Filthy just for me.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“You can go back to your meeting, baby boy.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

Somehow, the meeting passed. Lando even made some points during it. And through it all, Carlos remained in him, almost as if he were dozing, only then he would rock into Lando and make his breath catch on a sentence.

Afterwards, when Lando had his AirPods out, his phone cast aside, Carlos pulled him in close.

“Lando. Can I fuck you now?”

And Lando grinned at Carlos, his eyes heavy with the joy of being used so. “So now you want my permission?”

“Well, you’re the boss, aren’t you?” Carlos replied smoothly. And somehow, even as Carlos began fucking him hard, his hand pumping Lando’s heavy, straining cock, Lando wondered at how Carlos made him feel in control even when he wasn’t.

Because somehow, even when he wasn’t, Carlos was as sweet, considerate, and careful as always.

[carletes]

what did carlando’s honeymoon look like? in any/all aus

OK. so:

in a world alone they fuck off to a private island in dubai and have outrageous sex all the time

in tsor they have a two-part honeymoon: first, they fuck off to a private cottage in the anglosaxon countryside and have outrageous sex all the time; then, they fuck off to a part-honeymoon, part-mission to maroc and are gifted access to a hammam/underground bath as a wedding present and have outrageous sex in the hammam (i desperately want to write this)

in ¡revolución! it takes a while before they're able to go on a honeymoon because of how busy carlos and lando are after the revolution, but as a wedding gift, the norrises and sainzes get together and buy carlos and lando that lovely little alqurtev apartment they go to for lando's birthday and they have outrageous sex there

in hgiftbn, lando rents a tuscan villa so that carlos can work on his book and also for to have outrageous sex in the vineyard

i haven't thought too much about omtsy, beneath his boughs, and wbat, but at least there's always going to be one thing in common!

[carletes]

(Okay I haven’t reread HGIFTBN in a little while so I can’t remember if they actually cook pancakes or not)

Every chef has one dish that evades them, that they cannot get right no matter how simple. I’m thinking pancakes is Carlos and Lando finds it endlessly amusing but also finds some weird attraction to the unusual lack of competency

It was inevitable. Carlos couldn't have gotten away with it for long. Lando's tastes being what they were, and his "love" list being so short, Carlos was bound to come face to face with this particular white whale at some point.

And while he knew that, rationally, it still didn't change the panic he felt when confronted with the tiny post-it note on the fridge:

PSST...IT'S PANCAKE DAY!!

"No me jodas," Carlos mumbled weakly. Lando was in the office that morning, which meant he would come home harried and exhausted, and any way he so rarely requested food. Carlos couldn't.

He wouldn't.

But he would complain about it the whole time.

**

Lando did not expect to arrive home to the sounds of angry Spanish muttering. He certainly didn't expect to arrive home to the sight of his usually meticulously cleaned and tidied kitchen in utter disarray.

"Whoa," Lando said.

Carlos whipped around to face Lando. There was flour in his hair. Batter on his nose. There was, somehow, a singular blueberry lodged in his collar. Measuring cups were strewn across the countertops, and the remains of several burnt pancakes languished in the kitchen sink.

"Lando," Carlos said desperately. "I didn't– you weren't– you're back so soon– why pancakes?!"

Lando blinked at him. Then he stepped properly into the kitchen, walked up to Carlos, and wiped some batter from Carlos' chin.

"It's pancake day," he shrugged, before licking his finger clean. He made a face. "Mate, that's way too much vanilla."

Carlos growled, and it was all Lando could do to convince him not to throw the latest of five batches of batter, Lando later learned, out the window.

It transpired, later, that pancakes were Carlos' favorite childhood recipe. And somehow, the older he got, the worse they became.

"It is like...it is like there is an opposite relationship, no, between my cooking skills and my pancake skills," he explained once Lando had gotten him sitting down on the couch with a cup of tea. "I used to be so good. And now, every time I try, it is a mess. I am a mess."

He looked pathetic. It was adorable. Lando sat beside him, letting his knee knock Carlos'.

"Well, it can't have been very clean as a kid," Lando said soothingly. Oddly, Carlos blinked at this. He looked so gorgeous–

Stop it. He's been your chef for like three weeks.

"No, of course not. It was chaos. My mother, she would despair anytime I got it into my head to make pancakes. But they were delicious. Now, I cannot even get the batter into the pan without immediately burning it."

"Well, maybe you're trying to...chef it up too much."

"...chef it up?" Carlos said, unconvinced. Lando shrugged.

"Yeah. Like even I can make pancakes."

"Rub it in," Carlos mumbled, and Lando grinned.

"C'mon. It's pancake day. Why don't I make us pancakes?"

"Ay, Lando, I'm supposed to be your personal chef!"

"And? You can cook everything else," Lando said, standing up. He brushed some flour out of Carlos' hair. "Let me do this, at least, yeah? We can exchange notes."

Carlos looked at Lando. And then, slowly, he smiled. Lando felt his cheeks heat up.

"Why not?" Carlos said. He stood up, tea still in hand, and said softly, "Thank you. It's– it's stupid, but this is one thing I am insecure about."

"If I had to apologize for every insecurity, I'd never stop," Lando joked, ignoring his pounding heart. They were so close together. Carlos was so sweet.

"You already apologize too much," Carlos sniffed. And then he smiled. "I will do it, though. I will make you my pancake recipe some day. It is really good."

"I know," Lando said, smiling at Carlos. Carlos' smile somehow deepened. "I'm already looking forward to it."

[carletes]

psst. hi. for the fic ask game, would you be willing to do 38 with hgiftbn? (meeting of past self) if not, that’s totally cool :3

“You know he likes you a lot, right?”

Lando sighed and shoved his palms into his eyes. This happened sometimes; he would be working too much, too late, and he would see a version of himself. At first, it used to scare him. But now he saw his exhausted hallucinations as a helpful—if unhealthy—way to introspect.

“Been a minute,” Lando mumbled. “Am I that bad?”

“Well, your eyebags have eyebags,” his mirage said. He sat down at the edge of Lando’s desk, frowning at all the papers on it. “Oh! Is this the Enchanté deal?”

“It’s a pain in the arse is what it is,” Lando sighed. “Every time I think we’re close, Daniel wants something else. I can tell Carlos is over it.”

His older self snorted. He looked happy; there was even a ring on his finger. Huh.

“It doesn’t take a lot for Carlos to be over us overworking.”

Lando smiled despite himself. “He’s…I’m lucky I found him.”

“So you know he likes you, right?”

“…yeah,” Lando murmured, running a hand through his hair. “Um. It’s hard to not know. But…I don’t want to put him in a difficult position. I just…he’s…sometimes when he looks me I feel like I could quit my job and I’d still be okay ‘cause he’d be with me.”

His older self smiled shyly down at his hand. “He’s still has that effect on me.”

Lando made a distracted noise. Then he blinked. “Wait, still?”

His older self grinned. Lando pushed away from his desk and swiveled around to look at himself. “You- you mean-?”

“I’m not saying shit,” his older self sniffed. “Spoilers.”

“Spoilers?! This isn’t a fucking movie-” Lando protested, but his vision began to fade. “Oh, come on.”

“Just…it’ll be good. It’ll be fine. I promise. And you’ll close the deal.”

Lando scowled at his vision as he faded back into nonexistence. Then he sighed, shrugged, and went back to his work. But this time, it was easier; despite his exhaustion, despite the hallucination, he believed the words he had heard:

It was going to be fine.

And anyway, Carlos had promised to make him carbonara.

[carletes]

Lando getting hot and bothered while being passenger princess in a sports car (I just know he's a carfucker I'm certain)

Hgiftbn!

It must have been going on for a while, but it took Lando by surprise when he realized. Carlos had been working for Lando for maybe 5, 6 weeks. They had made several trips to the grocery store together, Carlos kindly offering to drive the McLaren GT while Lando took his many (many) phone calls in the passenger seat. It was an easy routine, one that Lando loved, but he hadn’t had cause to get in the car much by himself.

Not until sometime in early May, one of Carlos’ days off, and Lando found himself needing to go into the office for once. It was a…quiet drive. Because he was expected in person, no one was blowing up his phone. He actually had the time to play some music. And he had time to think. So he thought. And his thoughts kept going back to how odd it was to be in the car without Carlos, how odd it was not to be in a passenger seat, glancing over at Carlos, his easy, sure posture, the flex of his forearm as he steered the car, the way Carlos draped his arm behind Lando’s headrest as he backed out of a parking spot, his jaw thrust out with focus.

The car felt warmer than usual. Almost as warm as when Carlos accidentally draped his arm across Lando’s shoulders instead of the headrest, his knuckles brushing the back of Lando’s neck and left ear. When he’d realized, Carlos laughed a little breathlessly and apologized, but Lando’s skin had been hot.

Lando swallowed. He could feel that touch even now, the goosebumps that had been on his skin. Sometimes, Carlos would hum when he drove. Sometimes he’d swear under his breath if someone tried to get a little agro on the road; the barest growl of joder. He’d get embarrassed at that, as though being caught swearing out of anger was more horrifying than the easy, casual cussing they did around each other.

Then there was the time someone had tried to race Carlos. It had been a later grocery run than usual, a later day for Carlos than usual, and it was hard to ignore the bright lights of the Lambo that had pulled up beside him. The car revved up, a challenge. Carlos looked at Lando.

“He wants to go.”

Lando rolled his eyes. “He can go himself.”

But then he’d seen the hunger in Carlos’ eyes, the way his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel slightly. The barest flick of tongue against ample lip.

“Yes,” Carlos had said instead. “Of course.”

But his voice was deep. Wanting.

And Lando realized with the benefit of hindsight that he was then, as he was now, turned on.

He shuffled in his seat, trying to will down the tightening in his pants. He couldn’t go into the office with a semi. He wasn’t that kind of boss. But fuck, Carlos was hot, fuck, Carlos was nice, and fuck, Carlos looked good driving Lando’s fucking car.

Enough. He needed to think about anything else. And he succeeded too, incredibly, but he made a promise to himself.

So a few weeks later, when Carlos and Lando were en route from the grocery store (another evening trip) and a car revved up beside them, Lando turned to look at Carlos. Carlos had that hungry look in his eyes again, deeper and darker than usual. He parted his lips to say something, but Lando beat him to it:

“Do it.”

Carlos’ eyes widened. He stared at Lando. “What? Are you serious?”

“Do it,” Lando said. “I want to see it. You, beating him, I-I mean.”

Amazingly, kind, careful Carlos didn’t argue. He just grinned a wild grin, his incisors pointy, and he adjusted the gears with expert hands. He revved back. And then, when the traffic light turned green, Lando barely had time to take a breath before he was pushed back into his seat as Carlos floored it.

It was a drag race, and Carlos was committed, and he was good at it, and he was-

He was so sexy.

Lando didn’t know he was gripping Carlos’ thigh and laughing until it was over and Carlos had wildly outpaced the other car. Carlos had been silent the whole time, and when they finally came to a stop, they both laughed, breathless and excited and wordless. Carlos let out a whoop and then started driving more sanely as they drew closer to Lando’s building. They giggled the whole way there.

Once back in the parking lot, Lando got out of the car and thumped the roof of it happily.

“I knew she had it in her,” Lando beamed, and Carlos stepped out with a chuckle.

“Did you know I had it in me?” he asked, and there was hope in his eyes, and his hope was rewarded when Lando said, “Y’know? I did.”

Carlos’ eyes widened just so slightly. He smiled at Lando, broad and gratifying, and murmured, “Thank you. For trusting me.”

“Yeah. Always,” Lando said, and he surprised himself with how much he meant that.

They gazed at each other for a few moments, Lando’s heartbeat picking up with each nanosecond. Then Carlos cleared his throat and said, “So, shall we grab the groceries?”

“Why don’t you start,” Lando laughed. “I need a moment after that, Sainz.”

Carlos snorted but he did as he was asked.

And that was for the best. Lando needed to will down another semi.

[carletes]

I just noticed Carlos’ hypocrisy in hgiftbn, on his birthday lol

From:

“Sorry,” Carlos said to his parents, a little shocked still, “you know Lando, my boss?”

“You can stop calling him ‘Lando, my boss,’” Mamá muttered. “You talk about him enough.”

Carlos blushed. “Well, he just asked if he could get dinner with me tonight. For my birthday.”

A slow, knowing smile crept across his mother’s face. “Interesting.”

“No, not interesting,” Carlos said, blushing even harder. “He is my-”

“He is Lando, my boss,” Mamá and Papá chorused, and Carlos sputtered and found an excuse to end the call as his parents giggled together and made off-color jokes at his expense

To:

“Don’t even thank me,” Lando said. Then he smiled a little shyly. “Honestly, means a lot that you’re willing to see your boss outside business hours.”

“Ay, Lando,” Carlos said, frowning. “I think we are past this, yes?”

Lando looked at him. Then he smiled more honestly. “I think so too,” Lando said, then they both walked into the restaurant.

[carletes]

HGIFTBN Carlos showing Lando that one trick where you tap the champagne bottle in two places and flick the cork/head of the bottle right off, and Lando absolutely fucking losing it because it’s “So cool, Carlos, that was so fucking cool, you’re amazing–”

And Lando breaks off with a blush, but he can’t stop smiling and his ears quirk up a little as he grins, and Carlos’ heart is back in his throat as he says, “That will be £25, sir.”

Lando snorts, but later that evening as Carlos is about to go home, he finds £25 tucked into his jacket pocket. Lando is in a meeting, so they can’t say goodbye, and that’s all the better because it means Carlos can tuck the bill into his left breast pocket.

It stays there for years.

[carletes]

Just infuriating.