Can We Talk About How Insane The Mechanics And Engineers At Red Bull Have Been Yet Again? They Were Nowhere

Hey, would you write a carcar coffeeshop au? Like Oscar is the barista and Carlos a repeat customer so they go from friends to lovers? And maybe Carlos brings a date to the cafe and Oscar can't understand why he's so unsettled with the idea.

Ask and you shall receive 🧡

(This was fun to write and maybe the little push I needed to get back into writing after a long time, so thank you 🩵)

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Oscar slams the pumpkin spice latte he just brewed so hard on the counter the content threatens to spill and the paper cup starts to crumple between his tense fingers.

"Alex," he calls in his flattest voice but some of his boiling anger must have seeped through his voice because Lando suddenly appears next to him, a teasing smile on his face.

"Oooooh, someone's in a bad mooooood~," the Brit sing songs.

Oscar does his best to ignore him, turning back to his coffee machine and his next order. He can still feel Lando's annoying gaze at the back of his head.

"I'm not," he grumbles but that half reply only fuels his damn coworker even more.

"You areeeeeee~." Lando's voice is grating on Oscar's nerves. "Come on, Osc. What's got you all moody?"

"Nothing. White mocha for Nico," Oscar calls over the counter, hoping it would distract Lando.

It does not.

"I know you, Oscaaah," Lando says."I know when you're all moody even if you try to hide it behind your blasé attitude. So why the long face? Isn't your crush here? Shouldn't you be all happy and giddy like you get when he's here?"

"He doesn't make me giddy. And I don't have a crush," Oscar adds after a second too long.

"He makes you smile, you muppet. And blush!" Lando retorts. "If that's not you being all giddy and hot for him, I don't know what that is.

"You don't know what that is," Oscar deadpans.

Lando isn't listening anyway.

Another order filled and onto the next. Oscar moves between the coffee machine and the counter without even thinking about it. His hands know the rhythm.

He tries his damnedest not to look up, eyes stubbornly glued to the paper cups going through his fingers, the steaming coffee and the glistening bottles of syrup. But he can't help it. He watches him.

Them.

He is sitting at a little table not far from Oscar's station (to Oscar's utter dismay). His hair as shiny and luscious as ever. Strong nose and plush lips disappearing behind his paper cup from time to time (coffee, black, the strongest blend you have, please). His square jaw juts to the side sometimes and Oscar can't help oggling at the muscle tensing there.

Then Oscar catches himself, looking back down, only to fall on the man's big fingers wrapped around the cup and that's usually when his thoughts derail. Very impure thoughts. Thoughts he cannot disclose and yet Lando seems to read him like an open book. Because Oscar would never admit it but Lando is right. That man (Carlos, said with an 'r' rolling on the tongue and right to Oscar's insides) makes him giddy (and terribly aroused if he's honest with himself).

But today…

Today.

Today, Carlos is not alone.

Today, Carlos has a date.

A date.

And Oscar is dying inside, watching his crush (the man he has been crushing on for weeks now, trying and failing to find a way to flirt with him) with another man.

"Ah. I see," Lando sighs, appearing once again over Oscar's shoulder, as Oscar starts to oggle for a little bit too long. "Tall, dark and handsome got a date," Lando says. "I told you, you needed to act quicker. You're so slow, mate."

"Shut up."

There's not much force into it and anyway Lando just shrugs and goes back to work. Oscar chances another look at Carlos and his stupid date (Alex, what grown ass man is even called Alex?). They laugh together and Oscar's heart breaks.

For the next painstakingly long hour, Oscar does his best ignoring his broken heart and the happy couple at the little table until Alex leaves and Carlos stays behind. Big eyes lost, looking nowhere, jaws moving from side to side in thought, he is nursing a cup of coffee that's probably cold and disgusting by now.

Oscar's hands act on autopilot and before he knows it, he is walking around the counter and straight for the little table, steaming cup in hand. Oscar puts it on the table and instead of saying 'on the house', like he planned to, he blurts out.

"Your date's gone."

Dear lord, Oscar, get a grip.

Carlos looks up at him, his eyes so round and so brown, Oscar's heart melts.

"Sorry," he rushes to say. "I didn't mean to pry or to be rude."

"Don't worry about it, Oscar," Carlos says, a half smile and half pout on his pretty lips. "It was a great date anyway. Alex is a nice guy but not the right fit for me."

"I'm sorry," Oscar says but he's not feeling sorry at all. His hearts lodges in his throat, fluttering. "Well." This is it. This is the moment. "If you feel like hanging out, you know, to talk or something, you know where to find me."

He points at the coffee machine over his shoulder and flees before he can hear Carlos' rejection.

But Oscar is barely back at his work station, cleaning a bit before the next rush, that Carlos is pulling the stool on the other side of the counter and settling with his steaming cup.

"Hey, you," Carlos says, wiggling his eyebrows at Oscar. "Do you come here often?"

Oscar pauses, at a loss for words.

"You're so weird."

"Hey!" Carlos protests, but the smile still lingers on his full lips. Oscar desperately wants to kiss them. "That's not a very nice way to start a date. You have to introduce yourself and all. Go on, Oscar."

So so weird. Oscar just likes him even more.

"You know my name," he points at his name tag (he can feel his heart hammering under it).

"Nice to meet you, Oscar," Carlos says, undisturbed and laughing sweetly. "I'm Carlos."

"I know. I wrote your name on a million cups already."

"Good. Would you write your phone number on the next one, too?"

Oscar dissolves in spluttering words and heated cheeks, fumbling with a new paper cup and his pen to scribble his phone number on it and give it to Carlos. Carlos laughs, but it doesn't feel mocking, just the sexiest sound Oscar has ever heard.

It's not really a date, but Oscar counts this first real conversation (Carlos sitting at the counter while Oscar still works, talking about nothing and everything) as their first date anyway. And Carlos takes him out on a real date after that, when he calls the next day. So it's all okay.

I'm not even sure what Mercedes were trying to do. They should've split the strategies for the car and maybe one of them would've gotten points. They could've tried an early pit stops with one car.

It reached the stage where George had to cut the Nouvelle chicane to overtake Alex and take the subsequent stop and go penalty.

OSCAR WAS NOT GOING TO BE IGNORED AGAIN!!

Max Verstappen and Oscar Piastri on the podium during the F1 Grand Prix of Emilia-Romagna @ Mark Thompson and Ryan Pierse/Getty Images edited by me

something about "place full of cameras but all that matters is you"

For the fic prompts, 'please stop smiling at me' - carcar

hope you don't mind i set this on my carcar bodyguard au !! 0.5k carcar slightly inspired by oscar's latest reel.

So apparently Carlos has to tag along on his runs now, too. 

Oscar doesn’t really have any counterarguments, mainly because he's come to enjoy Carlos’ presence, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud.

He looks over his shoulder, Carlos just a short but respectable distance from his trainer and him. His head turned to the side as he takes in their surroundings, Oscar smirks.

“Trouble keeping up, Sainz?” His eyes wrinkle against the sun, head thrown back as he speaks to the man trailing behind. His trainer chuckles beside him. 

“More like trouble staying behind you,” The sound of sneakers against gravel increase until he feels a tap behind his leg and his knee buckles slightly. His trainer and the tired social media guy that is in charge of filming him today laugh in unison. 

“Ooh!” He already expects that to be filmed, even if Carlos isn't part of the team, it’ll probably be featured in the Reel or TikTok or whatever it is, without actually showing Carlos.

He groans at the teasing but sprints his way down the hillside, until they reach the port. His trainer stops them on a quiet spot for a water break, and the camera guy asks to take a couple of shots of him. 

He sneaks a look at Carlos as he tries for a ‘distracted but focused’ pose, whatever that means. Carlos has a leg propped on the half-wall that divides them from the water, the other stretched behind him. 

As if he has a sixth sense, he turns his head in a beat, wide brown eyes meeting his crinkly smiling ones. 

Carlos raises a thick eyebrow at him, it makes him look like a cartoon character, in Oscar’s opinion. People talk about how handsome and manly he presents himself, but Oscar personally enjoys getting a glimpse of the goofy guy that he seems to really be.

His lips pull into a smile without his agreement, Carlos seems to take it as a challenge to get him to laugh, exaggerating his stretching poses until Oscar has a toothy grin plastered on his face and dust of pink on his cheeks.

The poor social media guy calls him off on it and starts the video at least three times before he lets out an exasperated sigh when Oscar snorts a laugh and covers his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Oscar, can you please just, not smile, for a minute, I know that's not too difficult for you.” He really feels sorry for the guy, but then Carlos walks over to them with faux offence and he has to physically bite his lips to stop grinning.

“Yes, Mr. Piastri, please stop smiling at me!” Carlos walks past him, hand reaching around to pinch his waist, the touch so sudden it makes him squirm with a gasp and he doesn’t get to shove him as Carlos scrambles away from him.

In the end they don't get too many shots, just enough for a short video to post before Miami, and he’s mostly giggling in all of them. Carlos is to blame for that. 

Max : And I took that personally

“i was gonna lose my shit if that last corner had cost me pole”

Red Bull admin be wildin' on main yet again