#bcs charles and pierre are soulmates in any universe

[effervescentdragon]

can i prompt you with something about pierre and arthur leclerc? 😘

Why yes, apparently you can, anon 😳🙈

"Charles," Pierre starts to say, softly and reluctantly. "I need to tell you something."

Charles turns to looks at him from where he is staring at the screens. Pierre knows every single expression on his face, has known them all since forever, ever since they were children, dreaming of being right where they are now. Pierre knows Charles, and Charles knows him in return. Pierre makes himself keep eye contact as Charles stares into what feels like Pierre's soul.

"Yes! P1 for Ollie and P5 for Arthur, yes!!"

The engineers cheering draw them out of the stare off. Charles smiles inatinctively upon hearing his brother's amazing result, and Pierre's heart beats faster.

"Another Leclerc sprint-race masterclass, huh," he says, elbowing Charles a little.

"I knew he could do it!" Charles beams. "Come on, lets congratulate him."

They make their way through the swarm of people, the Prema staff patting Charles on the back and congratulating him. Pierre smiles at them too, because the atmosphere is infectious. He's forgotten how nice it was, the junior series. How innocent the joy was, and still is. It's good to remember. He needs all the joy he can get.

Charles takes his hand and drags him along, vibrating with excitement. The cars are coming in slowly, and Pierre spots Lorenzo first. He is smiling wide, and Pierre can't help but smile back. Lorenzo all but jumps at Charles, hugging him tight, and it makes Pierre's heart soften, the joy on their faces, and the obvious pride in Arthur.

"What a drive!" Charles yells at Lorenzo, who shakes his head and then turns to Pierre.

"I didn't know you were going to be here " Lorenzo says.

"Yeah, I - I had some time before FP3," Pierre stammers. "So I thought I'd come cheer for the Leclerc who is not going to be a competition in the midfield this weekend."

Charles snorts and rolls his eyes, and Lorenzo smiles.

"Arthur will be happy to see you," Lorenzo says, his eyes knowing, and turns away to adress the engineer that just came up to him. Pierre swallows heavily.

Fuck, he thinks. Fuck. I am such an idiot.

The red and white car with a number 4 parks in front of them just then, and Arthur does the whole protocol, and then he is climbing out of the car and whooping, not even taking his helmet off as he throws himself in Charles' arms.

"Bravo, petit!" Charles yells, and Pierre can hear Arthur laughing. "Did you see that? The restart was so good, and I think I could've even gotten P4 if i had another lap!"

"You're such an overachiever," Charles says as Arthur removes his helmet, and Pierre can't help but snort.

"You're the one to talk," Pierre says, and both Leclerc brothers turn to him. Arthur's eyes meet his, and his eyes widen.

"Pierre? I didn't-" He runs a hand through his hair, and it sticks up, and Pierre's mouth goes dry. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Yeah, I, I had some time." Pierre shrugs. "Good job, Arthur, that was magnificent." He grins. "A masterclass in driving."

Arthur blushes and ducks his head, and then he is stepping away from Charles and his arms are winding around Pierre and they are hugging, and he smells of sweat and fuel and Arthur, and Pierre's fingers tangle in his hair and Arthur's helmet hits his back and he whispers "Bravo, Arthur" in his ear, and Arthur shudders and tightens his hold, and then someone is saying Arthur needs to get weighed and they are separating, Arthur smiling alologetically as he turns around to follow the FIA official, but Pierre can still feel the breadth of Arthur's shoulders and the tightness of his grip and the smell of his skin, and he tries to compose himself.

"Oh."

Pierre turns and meets Charles' eyes.

Shit.

He's forgotten about Charles, who is looking at him with eyes wide and mouth halfway open, realisation etched in every curve of his beautiful face.

"Oh," he repeats, and looks towards where Arthur is being congratulated by his team. "Pierre," he says, and his voice is confused. "How long?"

Pierre clears his throat.

"Nothing's happened," he says urgently. Charles stares at him.

"I didn't ask if something's happened," Charles frowns. "I asked for how long?"

"A while," Pierre says, because he doesn't want to be specific. "And it's just - it's not him, it's just me."

Charles tears his eyes away from Arthur and looks at Pierre. He really, really looks, and Pierre feels seen, and he feels small, and he feels foolish, but he doesn't want to lie to Charles, who is his best friend and probably his soulmate and the one person he never wants to lose in this life.

"Charles," Pierre starts to say something, but he doesn't know what. He doesn't want to apologize because he doesn't think there is anything to apologize for, but he doesn't know what else there is to say when you're trying to tell your best friend that you may or may not have feelings for his baby brother. "Charles, you're my best friend, and I - I don't want to lose you," he says, and he knows his voice is too sincere and too pleading, but he can't help himself. "I never want to lose you, and it's just me, and -"

"Calamar." Charles steps closer. "It's okay. There is nothing you can do that will make us stop being friends," Charles says with disarming honesty, like it's the easiest thing in the world. "We lived through 2019, Pierre. We can get through anything," he says with a sad smile, and Pierre loves his so much and admires him even more, and the way he never, ever succumbs to bitterness. "It's okay, I'm just, well, a bit surprised. And thinking about something Enzo said-"

Arthur runs up to them before Charles can finish his thought, Lorenzo on his heels. He is smiling wide, halfway out of his racesuit, and yet he looks good despite the obvious exhaustion.

"Hey, I know you two don't have time now, but I was thinking, do you want to have dinner together tonight?"

His eyes flit from Charles to Pierre, and he looks nervous. Behind him, Lorenzo looks like he wants to roll his eyes but is holding himself back. Charles looks from Pierre, to Arthur, to Lorenzo, and his eyes narrow, then widen.

"I'd love to," he says, and Pierre knows that tone of voice. It's the one Charles uses when he knows something nobody else does, and is extremely pleased about it. Pierre hates that tone. "But I have to meet Seb to talk about. Something. Tonight." He turns to Pierre with a wide grin on his face. "You are free tonight though, aren't you, calamar?"

What the fuck are you playing at, Charles, Pierre tries to convey with his eyes, but Charles ignores him, still grinning. "Uh, yeah. I'm - I should be free."

"Oh, uh, good," Arthur says. "I'll - I can text you?"

"Yes, yeah," Pierre replies, flustered. "You have my number, right?"

"Yeah," Arthur says, and smiles, and his dimples show, and Pierre can't take it, how beautiful he is. "I'll. Uh, I'll text you and we can go out. Or stay in, or, whatever," he flounders, and blushes, and Charles outright laughs.

"Yeah," Charles says, looking at Lorenzo. "You were right."

"Told you," Lorenzo replies with a grin. "Idiot."

Pierre wants to ask what that's all about, and he looks at Arthur, who is similarly confused. When their eyes meet though, he forgets all about the older Leclerc's cryptic remarks. Arthur doesn't look away from him, and Pierre's heart just seems to be beating faster and faster with every moment that passes.

"Text me, okay?" Pierre says softly, and Arthur swallows and nods.

"I will," he says. "I have your number."

Pierre blushes. If he were a romantic, he knows what he'd say in that moment. He refuses to make a fool out of himself, though.

"I'm looking forward to it," is what he settles on, and when Arthur beams at him, he forgets about Lorenzo's knowing gaze and Charles' cackles and everything else, and allows himself to maybe, perhaps, hope just a little, that it's not just him.

He won't say it, though.

Not yet.