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The wind came in sharp off the moors, carrying the smell of peat smoke, damp earth, and dragonfire.
Lando pushed through the heavy oak doors of the Firecrest Wildlife Reserve infirmary with his shoulder, breath fogging in the cold air. Behind him, claws scraped stone.
“Careful, Puff. If you scratch the floor again, they’ll make me polish it with my tongue”.
Windfire Seraphrax Murmurion, ancient name for a terror of storm skies and eater of thunderclouds, let out a pitiful whine and dragged one wing dramatically along the threshold. Smoke puffed from his nostrils.
He was limping.
He was also, Lando suspected, playing it up as per usual.
“You are not dying” Lando muttered “You just stubbed a talon”.
Another wheeze came from the winged creature at his side.
If dragons could talk Puff would be saying something along the lines of “I am absolutely dying. Clearly”.
Instead, the dragon groaned, lowering his horned head like a martyr marching to execution.
Inside, the infirmary smelled of herbs, resin, and warmed iron. Shelves lined the walls, filled with salves, bone splints, labeled vials, and old dragon-scale specimens pinned like relics. A hearth glowed low in the far wall, its embers reflecting off polished copper instruments.
Lando stomped mud from his boots.
“Hello?” he called “We’ve got our favourite winged tragedy here”.
He expected the familiar shuffle of old Master Raikkonen, the round, rosy, perpetually smelling of brandy and chamomile man to emerge from the back room with a joke for Lando and a biscuit for Puff.
Instead, a voice answered from the examination alcove, where lantern light spilled gold across the stone floor.
“Bring him into the light”.
The voice was calm but it made Lando freeze.
Something in his chest tightened before his brain caught up to what he was seeing.
A man stepped into view, wiping his hands on a linen cloth. Dark hair, sun-kissed skin, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and an expression of composed focus that felt as sharp as a blade’s edge.
Carlos Sainz.
For a heartbeat, the present and the past collided and neither of them moved.
He looked older than the last time Lando had seen him. The boy from the academy had carried easy confidence that had drawn people toward him like moths to a flame.
This man carried quiet authority instead, exactly like the voice that greeted Lando.
And still, unfairly, the same handsome face.
Puff sneezed smoke between them.
Carlos blinked once, as if confirming the shape of a memory.
“Lando Norris” he said.
Lando’s mind flashed backward, a vortex of training yards at dawn, dust rising from dragon wings, Carlos surrounded by cadets, laughing at something, Lando watching from the shade of the feed shed, pretending not to.
He had not expected their worlds to cross again.
He had certainly not expected this.
Trying to get back to the present situation, his brain, usually quick with sarcasm, produced absolutely nothing.
“Well, that’s unexpected”.
Carlos’ mouth twitched, almost a smile, but not quite.
“Master Raikkonen has retired. He left for the southern islands with his wife. Something about finally drinking rum legally before he dies”.
“Oh” Lando cleared his throat “Good for him”.
Silence enveloped them once again.
Puff let out a tragic moan and collapsed sideways with a thunderous thud that shook dust from the rafters.
Carlos’ attention snapped instantly to the dragon.
“What happened?”
“Stubbed his talon” Lando said, rolling his eyes.
Puff emitted a wounded, offended growl.
Carlos crouched beside the great bronze head, movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t flinch as the dragon’s molten-gold eye fixed on him.
“Hello, Windfire, right?” he murmured. His voice changed when he spoke to the dragon, it got softer and almost warm.
Puff’s rumbling eased in confusion and Carlos looked at Lando quizzically.
“He goes by Puff since he is a baby, he doesn’t particularly like his birth name”.
Carlos nodded and ran gentle fingers along the ridged scales of the foreleg, pausing at the talon joint.
The dragon whimpered.
Lando folded his arms. “He’s a drama queen”.
Carlos didn’t look up but his brows furrowed “He is in pain”.
“He just stepped on a rock” Lando tone verged on exasperated.
Carlos pressed lightly along the joint. Puff yowled like a stabbed opera singer.
“All right” Lando admitted “It might have been a painful rock”.
Carlos’ breath huffed in what might have been suppressed laughter.
“Hold his wing” he instructed.
Lando blinked. “Sorry?”
Carlos finally looked up. Brown eyes steady and expectant.
“Hold. His. Wing.”
“I know the words” Lando muttered, moving forward. “You don’t have to say them like I am a kid”.
He slid his hands beneath the warm membrane of Puff’s wing. Heat radiated through the thin skin and he could feel the dragon’s heart thudding slow and powerful somewhere beneath the scale and muscle.
Carlos worked with deft precision, cleaning the talon, checking for fractures, murmuring reassurances in low Spanish under his breath.
All the while, Puff made soft, theatrical groans.
“You’re fine” Lando told him.
Puff tilted his head and exhaled a smoky puff directly into Lando’s face making him choke for a second.
Carlos’ shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.
“Stop encouraging him” Lando said, getting back to breathing normally.
“He is responding well to empathy, it can help us get on better”.
“He responds well to attention, the princess here, he could not care for empathy”.
Carlos wrapped the talon with a resin bandage and smoothed it into place.
“There. No flying for two days”.
Puff whimpered.
“No dramatic dives” Carlos added.
Puff groaned louder.
“And no chasing storm fronts”.
The dragon made a sound of deep spiritual suffering.
Lando leaned close to his snout, his eyes softening when looking in those of his favourite creature “He means it, stop complaining, it’s for your own good”.
Carlos rose, brushing resin dust from his hands. For a moment they stood too close, heat from the hearth mingling with dragon warmth and the faint scent of smoke and leather.
Neither spoke.
“So” Lando said, because silence felt dangerous, “you’re the new Master Raikkonen?”
“I am no Master, I am a healer trying to learn and experience new things”.
“Very thrilling”.
Carlos’ brow lifted but changed the subject “You brought him in quickly. That was a good move”.
Lando shrugged. “He would have cried until the cliffs echoed. Hard to ignore”.
Puff lifted his bandaged foot and whimpered, trying to get the attention back to himself.
Carlos’ gaze softened again as he touched the dragon’s jaw. Puff leaned into the contact with suspicious enthusiasm.
Traitor.
Lando stepped back, giving himself space from Carlos even though he didn’t understand why he felt like needing it.
“Well” he said, clapping his gloves together “we’ll be out of your hair”.
Carlos nodded once, ever the professional.
“Return if swelling increases” he said, while the other two walked towards the door.
“Or if he thinks he’s dying again” Lando replied, chuckling under his breath.
Puff gave a soft, mournful croon and Carlos’ lips twitched.
Lando kept walking toward the door, Puff lumbering after him with exaggerated fragility.
At the threshold, Lando hesitated just long enough to feel the weight of Carlos’ presence behind him. He felt strange, almost unsettlingly familiar but he didn’t have time to dwell on it.
He pushed the door open, making cold wind rush in.
Behind him, Puff paused, glancing back at the healer, his golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
A low, curious rumble vibrated in his chest, a sound Lando had never heard before.
Then the dragon followed his rider into the grey day outside.
Smoke curled in the air where they had stood as something unseen, newly awakened, lingered in the space between them.
🔥 🔥 🔥
Carlos recognized the sound before the doors even opened.
Talons scraping the floor, a mournful rumble followed by the faint hiss of smoke pushed through long-suffering nostrils.
He didn’t look up from the mortar and pestle and calmly said into the void of the quiet room “Who might be on the verge of dying again?”
The doors creaked inward, the cold air rolled across the stone floor, carrying peat smoke and damp wind.
Lando stood on the threshold looking like a man who had lost an argument with a very dramatic dragon. Behind him, Puff limped in with exaggerated fragility, one foreleg held aloft as though it had been shattered in heroic battle.
He lowered himself with a cavernous groan that echoed against the rafters and Carlos rose slowly, wiping resin dust from his hands, walking towards his two new visitors.
“What happened?”
“He cannot walk” Lando replied, with the resignation of someone who had already lost this discussion.
Carlos crouched beside the bandaged talon. The swelling had vanished, the joint was stable and the scales sheened perfectly under the low sun of a wintery late afternoon.
Puff emitted a thin, trembling whine and Carlos pressed lightly on the spot.
The dragon screamed like a cathedral organ collapsing and that made Carlos lift his eyes toward Lando.
“Mmh, interesting”
“He was fine five minutes ago, I have no idea what happened” Lando admitted, shrugging.
Puff dropped his head with the exhausted dignity of the terminally ill dragon and Carlos exhaled slowly, then placed a gentle palm against the dragon’s jaw. His voice softened into that low warmth reserved for injured creatures and frightened hatchlings.
“You are safe here. Show me what is hurting today”
Puff immediately relaxed and Lando folded his arms affronted “He’s acting. I told you he is a drama queen”.
Carlos continued the examination with careful precision, fingers tracing tendons and joints while Puff watched him intently with his soft golden eyes, his breath warm and steady.
“I think he needs reassurance and affection, do you cuddle him enough at night?” Carlos said, a hint of joke in his voice.
“He wants attention, that’s what he wants and that’s what you are giving him. And no, I can’t cuddle him at night he snores and I might had to extinguish my hair a couple of times too many already”
Carlos looked at him with mirth in his eyes but didn’t comment.
When he finished, he wrapped the talon again with fresh resin cloth and smoothed the bandage with gentle care.
Lando watched the steady and patient movements and found himself looking away too quickly when his hands almost reached out to Carlos’.
They did not touch.
But the air between them felt newly aware of something neither of them knew how to name.
🔥 🔥 🔥
Three mornings later, Puff arrived at Carlos’ threshold coughing theatrically.
He wheezed smoke rings into the air and staggered as if his lungs had collapsed into soot filling the infirmary with the scent of charred wood.
Carlos listened to the dragon’s breathing, expression grave.
“He inhaled ash” he concluded.
Lando stared at Puff in exasperated disbelief.
“You were chewing burnt fence posts again, weren’t you?”
Puff turned his head away feigning indifference but a curl of smoke drifted guiltily toward the ceiling.
Carlos’ composure faltered, the corner of his mouth twitched before he turned away to prepare a steaming infusion of frost-mint and resin bark.
Puff drank the offered concoction loudly, sighing between swallows and when Carlos wiped soot from his snout, the dragon leaned forward with unmistakable satisfaction.
Lando shook his head. “You’ve been played”.
“I am aware” Carlos replied with a sign but he did not stop being gentle with the almost grinning dragon.
🔥 🔥 🔥
Rain swept across the reserve in silver sheets the day Puff arrived with a “wing cramp”.
He refused to unfold it, he groaned whenever Lando tried, he whimpered theatrically whenever Carlos approached, it was a mess of whines and smoke.
Carlos guided the wing outward with slow patience. The membrane shimmered in the lamplight like stretched amber silk.
“Hold here” Carlos murmured, still looking at the wing but instruction clearly intended for the only other human in the infirmary.
Lando stepped closer, sliding his hands beneath the warm membrane and their fingers brushed.
A spark snapped between them sharp and bright. They both recoiled instinctively.
"Sorry, static” Lando said, shaking his hand slightly and Carlos only nodded in response, his brows furrowed.
Puff watched them with deep concentration, smoke drifting thoughtfully from his nostrils.
🔥 🔥 🔥
By the seventh visit, a pattern had emerged.
Puff developed sudden lameness only when approaching the infirmary. He collapsed tragically when Carlos stepped into view, recovered instantly when offered dried goat meat and groaned whenever either man moved farther than arm’s reach.
Carlos finished examining him and sat back on his heels.
“He is manipulating us” he said quietly, confused.
“I already knew that!” Lando replied frustrated “but I don’t get why”.
Puff rumbled with pride and Carlos, lost in his thoughts, almost lost his balance. Lando steadied the leg and their hands met again.
The spark returned, stronger than the previous time and leaving an almost buzzing sensation under their skin.
For a fraction of a second, Carlos felt something brush the edges of his thoughts, but blinked it away.
Lando studied him. “What?” Carlos shook his head. “Nothing. I must be more tired than I thought”.
But Puff’s eyes narrowed, pleased.
🔥 🔥 🔥
After that, the world felt subtly misaligned.
Carlos would pause mid-task, certain someone had spoken behind him. Instead there would be only the quiet hum of the infirmary and the distant calls of dragons circling the cliffs.
Wind
The word brushed his thoughts one afternoon while he catalogued herbs, he turned but the room was empty.
High above the moors, Lando felt a sudden certainty that was not his own.
Too high
He adjusted Puff’s glide instinctively and felt a column of warm air lift them safely over a jagged updraft.
He frowned into the wind.
“Did you feel that?” he murmured.
Puff rumbled, just happy with the fly and the rain that finally stopped battling down on them.
The next time their hands touched, neither pulled away immediately and neither commented on it, just lost is this peculiar sensation of home.
Next to them, smoke drifted upward in quiet approval.
🔥 🔥 🔥
The message arrived at dusk, a young dragon had been sighted beyond the northern ridges, panicked and burning fields in blind fear.
By dawn, the reserve courtyard thrummed with preparation.
Wind coursed through the stone arches. Harness rings clinked. Dragons shifted, their scales whispering against leather straps.
Lando was tightening Puff’s saddle when he sensed someone approaching, he turned to see Carlos pulling on riding gloves.
“You ride now?” Lando asked.
“When necessary” Carlos said, expression composed but a bit weary.
“Comforting” Lando snorted.
Carlos’ gaze flicked to Puff, who regarded him with unmistakable approval.
“I will accompany you”
Something in Lando’s chest tightened and confusion surged inside of him but he squashed it down with a shake of his head.
“Try to keep up” he said, and swung into the saddle.
They rose into a sky streaked with pale gold and slate clouds. Heather blurred below into violet swaths. Rivers flashed like shards of glass between the hills.
But Lando couldn’t stop focusing on Carlos’ body behind him, steady but rigid, alert to every shift of muscle and wind.
After an hour, the whisper returned in full force.
Left
Lando turned instinctively, guiding Puff into a downward turn. Behind him, Carlos inhaled sharply.
“You felt that” he said breathlessly.
Lando swallowed. “Felt what?”
Carlos did not answer but held onto Lando a bit more firmly.
By nightfall the wind had withdrawn from the valley, as if the land itself had finally released its breath. Tall grass whispered in faint, restless strokes, and above them the sky opened into a vast field of cold, piercing stars.
Carlos chose a sheltered hollow between two dark stones and built the fire, resin-rich twigs caught slowly, then the flame deepened into a steady amber glow that pushed back the darkness in a soft circle of light.
Lando sat a few paces away on a wind-smoothed rock, elbows resting on his knees. Puff had settled just beyond the firelight, wings folded like a heavy cloak, tail curled around his forelegs. Each slow exhale left his nostrils in thin spirals of gold-tinged vapor that drifted and vanished in the chill.
The air smelled of damp earth, moss, and sweet woodsmoke while Carlos stirred the pot suspended above the flame trying to cook something for them for dinner.
“If I die” Lando said, watching the pot with suspicion “make sure they record it as poisoning”
Carlos didn’t look up. “It’s warm, full with nutrients and what you need after flying all those hours”
“It does not take away the fact that it looks suspicious” Lando sounds almost petulant but Carlos smiles and he hands him the bowl.
Lando took the bowl as if nothing had happened and they ate in the quiet crackle of the fire. Somewhere in the dark, water moved over stone, a distant, constant murmur lulling them.
Warmth spread through Lando’s chest with each swallow, simple and grounding and he was just ready to almost admit that Carlos was right about their meal when he heard it, clear and loud.
You always hated porridge
Lando looked up sharply “Did you say something?”
Carlos frowned, spoon halfway to his mouth “No” almost a question in his tone.
The fire popped softly, sending a brief spiral of sparks upward and Carlos lowered his gaze back to the bowl.
Too much salt
He stilled.
Lando tasted again “it's too salty, no?”
Carlos stared into the fire, expression unreadable and didn’t say anything more.
They finished the meal without speaking. Behind them, Puff opened one eye, watching the two men with profound interest.
A small ribbon of smoke curled from his nostrils and drifted upward like a satisfied sigh.
The cold arrived after midnight, slipping through wool, leather seams, and the thin openings at the collar and cuff until it settled into their bones.
The fire had burned down to low coals, breathing faint orange light into the darkness.
Carlos slept flat on his back, one arm folded across his chest, posture disciplined even in rest. His breathing was slow and measured, and Lando envied him in that moment, for his ability to sleep wherever and whenever.
Lando was laying on his side inside his bedroll, watching frost form along the edges of his gloves. The stars above looked close enough to touch but he was too focused on trying to ignore the cold to notice.
He had too many things to think about, ignore the cold, ignore the strange restlessness beneath his ribs, trying not to think about the warmth of Carlos’ shoulder when they had leaned together that afternoon.
Sometime deep in the night, the shivering stopped. Warmth pressed along his back and his body shifted toward it without permission, guided by instinct older than reason. His hand curled into coarse wool, his forehead brushed fabric warmed by another’s heat but he didn’t wake up, he felt finally peaceful.
Nearby, Puff opened one golden eye. He watched the slow, unconscious drift that brought rider and healer closer and a pleased rumble vibrated deep in his chest, but not too loud so as not to risk waking up the two humans who had finally found a resemblance of peace.
Dawn came pale and silver, frost clinging to the grass like shattered glass.
Lando woke first, warmth still pressed along his front. For a confused instant he did not move, suspended between sleep and awareness then, memories came back and he went very still.
Carlos was laying beside him, unmoving, breath slow and even. The line of his shoulder was inches from Lando’s face and his hair smelled faintly of smoke and clean resin.
Too close. Not close enough.
Lando eased backward carefully and Carlos’ eyes opened a moment later.
Neither spoke. Frost crackled softly as Puff stretched, wings unfurling in a slow, majestic arc that caught the rising light. He looked entirely too satisfied with himself.
They broke camp in quiet efficiency. Leather creaked, metal buckles clicked, breath fogged in the cold air.
When they mounted, the distance between them felt newly charged but they ignored it, they had a creature to rescue.
They found the rogue dragon before noon. It was laying tangled in rusted iron traps hidden beneath thorn and bracken, scales dulled by fear and exhaustion. The scent of blood and scorched grass lingered in the air.
The creature thrashed when they approached, wings beating weakly, eyes rolling white with terror.
Carlos moved first, slow and steady, voice low and continuous, more a rhythm meant to be felt rather than words to be understood.
Lando circled to secure the chains, and they worked in quiet coordination. They did not need to speak, almost anticipating each other's movements.
When their shoulders pressed together as they tightened the last restraint, warmth spread through Lando’s chest like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
In front of them the dragon sagged, trembling, and stilled. They lifted it carefully for transport and everything was going smoothly.
A tightness beneath the sternum, a pulling sensation deep in the chest, as if an invisible cord had been drawn taut.
Carlos inhaled sharply and Lando gripped the saddle frame, breath shortening.
“What?”
“Might be the altitude” Carlos said quickly.
“Right” Lando answered, not entirely convinced but almost scared to look into it.
Neither believed it, but they had a dragon to get back to the Firecrest Wildlife Reserve.
They rode back beneath a sky dimming toward dusk, the rescued dragon secured and sedated behind them.
Wind rushed past in steady currents, they didn't speak too invested in their own thoughts.
The pulling sensation ebbed, then returned in faint pulses, subtle but insistent, impossible to locate but still present enough to be felt.
By the time the stone roofs of the buildings were visible over the cliffs, the pressure in Lando’s chest had become a quiet ache.
When they landed and the reserve gates opened, sound rushed back into the world: handlers shouting, chains rattling, dragons shifting, the familiar living rhythm of the sanctuary.
Lando slid from the saddle, boots striking the stone of the landing square.
Carlos removed his gloves slowly, flexing his fingers to get back the blood circulation.
The air between them felt stretched too tight, like canvas drawn across a frame.
“That was-” Lando began.
Carlos nodded once. “Yes”
Wind moved through the high arches, carrying the scent of hay, smoke, and dragonfire.
“We have been in close proximity for many hours” Carlos said carefully.
“Too much togetherness” Lando agreed, trying to mask the trembling in his voice with a joking tone.
“Perhaps” Carlos continued, voice measured “we should keep some distance for a while”.
“Excellent plan!” Lando said way too rushed to feel like an honest answer.
But neither moved immediately and Puff watched them both with undisguised disappointment.
He released a low, reproachful rumble that vibrated through the courtyard stones and that broke the spell completely.
Carlos turned toward the infirmary, Lando toward the stables with Puff in tow.
Behind the stable arch, Puff twisted his long neck to watch them go. A thoughtful curl of smoke rose from his nostrils and almost shaking his head in disapproval.
🔥 🔥 🔥
After ten days of Lando and Carlos trying to stay away from each other, Puff had perfected the art of theatrical suffering so much that the entire reserve staff had stopped pretending to be alarmed.
This time, however, it wasn’t Puff who looked unwell, it was Lando.
He sat slumped against the low wooden fence outside the infirmary enclosure, elbows on his knees and his hands dangling loosely between them. His complexion had lost its usual warmth, skin pale beneath freckles, and there was a sheen of sweat along his temples despite the cool afternoon breeze. His breath came shallow and careful, as if each inhale needed caused him pain.
Puff, meanwhile, laid sprawled dramatically on the gravel, one wing flopped over his eyes like a fainting damsel in distress.
“Your dragon” George said flatly “is eating gravel”.
Lando didn’t look up “Leave him be, he’s self-medicating”.
Standing nearby was George Russell, one of the reserve’s senior riders and Lando’s oldest friend. Tall, composed, and possessed of a patience honed by years of managing both dragons and Lando Norris. His posture was rigid with skepticism.
Next to him crouched Alexander Albon, the reserve’s logistics specialist and one of the few people capable of soothing anxious hatchlings with nothing but his voice. Alex watched Puff with narrowed eyes, as though trying to determine whether the dragon was injured or simply committed to his dramatic performance.
“He was licking his tail before” Lando said, still not picking his eyes up from the ground.
George crossed his arms. “To be honest, you look worse than he does”.
Lando opened his mouth to argue and then stopped, chest tightening sharply enough that his fingers curled against his ribs. He waited for the pressure to ease but it didn’t, or at least not completely. It never did anymore.
“I’m fine” he said, but the words came out thin.
By the third time George and Alex were sent in Lando’s place to deliver Puff for “evaluation”, suspicion had curdled into concern.
“He’s been off for weeks” Alex said quietly as they walked Puff down the path.
George nodded. “Worse since the mountain patrol” and they kept walking in concerned silence.
They found Carlos in the supply barn.
He was halfway up a step ladder, reaching for a crate of feed supplements, when he paused, one hand braced against the shelf as if the world had tilted slightly. George and Alex watched him stop his climbing and descend slowly without anything he needed from the top shelf and lean his hip against the worktable.
George noticed the way he stayed there a moment longer than necessary.
“You look terrible” George said.
Carlos startled as if he hadn’t heard them coming, too caught up in his thought and huffed a weak laugh. “Hello to you too”.
Alex stepped closer. “Are you dizzy?”
“Just tired”
Carlos reached for a stool and sat, elbows on his knees, fingers pressed lightly into his sternum as if easing pressure there.
George and Alex exchanged a look.
“He’s the same, you know?” George said.
Carlos frowned. “Who?”
“Lando”
Carlos’ eyes sharpened instantly despite the fatigue.
“What symptoms do you have?” Alex asked.
George counted on his fingers.
“Shortness of breath? Chest tightness? Exhaustion? And it’s only getting worse, right?”
Carlos stared at the floorboards.
“I thought it was altitude sickness, now I’m not sure anymore” he said quietly.
By the time George and Alex returned, Lando was still sitting where they’d left him, Puff having left the two talking with Carlos and is now draped across his rider’s boots like an oversized scarf.
“Well?” Lando asked.
George didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he crouched in front of him and for a second Lando’s breath was caught in his throat for an entirely different reason.
“Is Puff okay?” he asked, a bit frantic, but his friend ignores his question.
“What exactly have you been feeling?”
Lando hesitated.
“It started as pressure. Here” He pressed his palm flat to his sternum. “Like someone tightening a strap. And sometimes I can’t get a full breath. And when I am away from-” He stopped, almost as the pain intensified.
George’s expression shifted.
“Away from Carlos?” Alex asked gently.
Lando blinked, nodding his head imperceptibly.
George exhaled slowly.
“I think” he said carefully, “you should consider the possibility that you didn’t catch something on patrol”.
Alex rested his arms across his knees, almost as a way to give his boyfriend the push needed to say what might be an hard truth for their friend.
“You might be soul-bonded”.
Silence fell in the room and you could almost hear the dust fall.
Puff lifted his head and sneezed dramatically.
At first, Lando dismissed it.
Then, because ignoring it made the pressure in his chest worse, he stopped dismissing it.
He sat alone in his room that evening, staring at his hands, heart beating too fast and not fast enough at the same time.
If this was real... He needed to know if this was real or just a figment of his imagination.
He closed his eyes and thought of Carlos, the warmth of his shoulder beside the fire, the steady rhythm of his breathing at night, the electric spark when their hands brushed.
Tentatively, he formed a thought and pushed it outward.
Hello?
Nothing.
He huffed softly, embarrassed even in solitude and tried again.
Carlos?
For a long moment there was only the faint crackle of the hearth and the distant rustle of wings outside.Then, not a voice exactly, not a completely formed sound, but the impression of one.
Lando?
He bolted upright. Air rushed into his lungs so suddenly it hurt.
Did you hear that?
Lando thought, panic and wonder tangling together in his stomach.
A pause.
I felt something, yeah
Carlos’ presence was not words but warmth, like standing near a fire in darkness. The sensation pressed gently at the edges of Lando’s mind, cautious and almost overwhelming in the most beautiful way.
Lando swallowed and tried again.
Try thinking about me
This is ridiculous
Try
Another pause.
Hola
The word landed in Lando’s chest like a struck bell. He laughed out loud, breathless. “Oh my god”.
Across the reserve, Carlos froze in the feed room, hand braced against the table as warmth flooded his lungs for the first time in days.
🔥 🔥 🔥
They practiced cautiously over the next day, exchanging fragments of impressions, colors, feelings and some words.
Too warm
Tired
Hungry
You snore
I do not!
Idiot
The connection strengthened with each attempt. And then Carlos, exhausted and overwhelmed, thought without guarding the words.
This is so complicated
Lando’s chest tightened. Complicated he said, but to Lando it felt anything but that. He swallowed hard.
Right
He sent back, forcing lightness he did not feel.
Don’t worry. We don’t have to make it weird
Carlos sensed the shift instantly, like a door closing softly, but it was too late.
I didn’t mean-
We’re good
Lando thought quickly. Friends. Teammates. Soul-bonded dragon riders with psychic chest pain. Totally normal.
The warmth between them faltered, thinning into a small flame flickering and threatening to get lost in the wind.
And Carlos felt the loss like cold air rushing in.
Over the next few days, the pressure worsened. Distance made breathing harder and sleeping apart left them waking exhausted.
Finally, George marched them both to the outer village.
🔥 🔥 🔥
The cottage stood at the edge of the forest, where mist curled between ancient stones, the air smelled almost magical and wind chimes fashioned from shed dragon scales rang softly under the eaves.
They found Sebastian Vettel kneeling in the garden, hands deep in dark soil. Once a legendary rider, now the quiet guardian of old knowledge, he radiated the calm of someone who had survived both war and fame and chosen peace.
He looked up before they spoke.
“Ah,” he said gently. “You waited longer than most” he said, getting up and brushing off some dirt from his hands while walking towards the door and beckoning them in.
Inside, the cottage glowed amber with lamplight, bundles of dried herbs hung from rafters, making the air smell with sage, juniper, and smoke.
Sebastian listened without interruption, putting the kettle on the fire and waiting for it to boil.
When they finished, he poured tea the color of burnished copper and handed them each a cup.
“The bond resists distance” he said “and it get more stubborn the more you try to force it down”.
Lando stared into the steam while Carlos asked quietly “What do we do?”
Sebastian’s eyes softened.
“You start by allowing proximity and see where it brings you, you need to share space, share a bed”.
🔥 🔥 🔥
The first night felt impossibly intimate.
They were laying rigid atop the blankets, leaving a careful strip of space between them as if it were a border but, despite not touching, the relief was immediate.
Almost like the first lungful of air after being underwater for too long, breathing properly for the first time in weeks.
But, despite the warmth that settled into their ribs, neither of them slept.
Gradually, over the next few nights, the distance shrank, both physically and emotionally.
A shoulder brushing fabric, their breath mingling in the dark one morning before sunrise when they accidentally find themselves waking up cuddling.
Night after night they learned the quiet language of coexistence, the rhythm Carlos breathing took right before falling asleep, the soft noises Lando made when dreams were not the best ones, the way warmth gathered in the hollow between them like something alive, something that was trying to get them even closer then they already were.
Carlos discovered that if he woke and Lando was not within reach, panic rose sharp and suffocating and he could go back to sleep only after the other one came back from the bathroom or any other place he was at.
Lando discovered that the bond hummed brightest when Carlos’ heartbeat slowed into sleep if some part of their body was in contact and tried to reach out with fingers touching his back or hand just to make him feel more at ease.
But, afraid of what their feelings were moving towards, they did not speak about it.
Closeness became a shape their bodies memorized, the feeling of each other's presence something they didn’t need to discuss, just existing in it.
And for a while, it was enough.
🔥 🔥 🔥
The morning Lando received the mission summons, frost silvered the windowpanes and the wind howled through the trees, almost as if trying to warn of what was about to happen.
He sat on the edge of the bed long after reading the dispatch, the parchment trembling slightly in his hand and this time, when Carlos woke up, even if they were still close physically, felt the dread of not being close enough.
He knew before Lando spoke, the bond carried the dread between them like a storm front, it didn’t need words, just their eyes meeting over the parchment still in Lando’s hands.
“You have to go” Carlos said quietly, almost a question, almost like he was trying to convince himself that it was still a possibility and not something certain.
Lando nodded and when he closed the door behind himself to go get ready for the mission, neither mentioned how thin the air already felt.
🔥 🔥 🔥
The day after Lando left, the air in Carlos’ quarters felt wrong, hollow and empty, almost like after hours and hours of music the silence falls on a ballroom.
Carlos woke before dawn with his lungs straining for breath, he couldn’t get enough air to satisfy his body. The bond, once a warm hum beneath his ribs, had thinned into a stretched thread pulling somewhere far beyond the mountains and felt exactly like the connection felt, too tired and almost empty.
He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, inhaling slowly and trying to get his body to calm down and start the day, but nothing helped. He knew the only thing that could help him was Lando. His Lando. And with this knowledge he pushed himself on his feet and got ready for work.
By midday, the pressure in his chest had sharpened into something almost unbearable, a tight band drawing inward each time he inhaled leaving an almost metallic taste on his tongue. He braced one hand on the kitchen table while pouring water and found himself pausing halfway through the simple task, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. It was getting worse by the minute and he didn’t like this at all, it felt like he was there just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
A knock sounded way too loud in the silence of the room. He straightened, masking the wince that followed.
When he opened the door, George Russell stood in the doorway with his usual composed posture, though concern softened the line of his brow. Beside him, Alex held a cloth-wrapped bundle that smelled faintly of ginger and herbs.
“You look worse” George said in lieu of a greeting.
Carlos tried to smirk, but it was more of a grimace “You always say such thoughtful things to me”.
Alex stepped inside without waiting to be invited, setting the bundle on the table and rolling his eyes at the antics of the other two.
“You’re pale” he said gently “And you’re leaning on furniture just to be upright. Did you eat?”
Carlos realized he was and tried to shift but the room immediately tilted.
George’s hand closed around his elbow before he could fall or pretend that he was okay.
The contact steadied him but did not help with the dizziness or to fix the increasing pressure inside his ribs.
“Sit” George ordered, Carlos obeyed and took a bite of the beautifully golden loaf, savoring the fragrant and crunchy bread.
Outside, dragons called to one another across the reserve, their voices echoing through the valley. The sound usually comforted him, but today it made the distance feel bigger and the yearning worse.
The nights were the worst moments with no work or people around him to keep his mind occupied.
He woke repeatedly, breath catching at every small sound, heart pounding against an absence that felt louder than silence and made him want to scream just to fill the void.
Each time he drifted back to sleep, the bond pulsed faintly like an echo trying to cross an impossible distance and trying to keep him awake for company but also saying sorry for keeping him awake at the same time.
But, in a way, that made Carlos breathe a little bit easier because it meant that, somewhere far away, Lando was still alive and Carlos tried to cling to that.
🔥 🔥 🔥
The third evening brought strong wind and the clouds gathered low over the ridgeline, swallowing the last gold light of sunset. Carlos stood in the yard, one hand pressed to his sternum, that day the pressure had been unbearable making it almost impossible for him to stay focused on his job, and he decided to close up early and get home.
Puff descended in a frantic spiral, his familiar roar split the darkening sky, landing hard enough to rattle the stones.
His wings trembled, smoke leaked from his nostrils in thin, distressed ribbons and Carlos’ stomach dropped.
“Where is he?” he whispered, knowing the creature couldn't really answer but too scared to think properly.
Puff lunged forward, grabbing Carlos’ sleeve and tugging with surprising urgency.
“I don’t understand” Carlos said, breath already shallow and starting to panic.
The dragon snarled, pacing, claws scraping sparks from the stone pathway. He couldn’t talk but his eyes locked onto Carlos with unmistakable demand.
Come with me
Carlos shook his head, fear tightening his throat “I can’t ride you”.
Puff roared, the sound making the lanterns shook with its intensity.
Carlos staggered back, pressing his palm to his chest a mix of fear, panic and the bond making it impossible to breath.
He closed his eyes and tried to steady himself.
Lando
The bond crackled like a storm-distorted radio but something came through.
Pain
Cold
I can’t-
Then, more statics and a rush of fear, not his own, flooded his lungs.
Carlos gasped and tried again.
Lando, where are you?
Fragments came, jagged and slipping.
Dark
Trapped
Don’t feel-
Then nothing.
Carlos swayed, grabbing the fence post to stay upright and Puff shoved his shoulder again, lowering himself, wing extended.
The invitation was unmistakable.
“I can’t” Carlos whispered, voice shaking “I’m scared”.
The dragon’s eyes softened at the man's words but then sharpened again with stubborn insistence, pushing Carlos’ leg with his snout.
Carlos closed his eyes again, trying to center himself and felt the bond flickered weakly.
And then, like a fresh gush of wind on a hot summer day it came Lando's voice again.
Carlos, help
The sound was barely there, almost unconscious and so so feeble, but it was unmistakable, it was him, it was his Lando.
Carlos’ eyes flew open, decision taken.
“Okay” he whispered and climbed onto Puff’s back with trembling hands.
Wind tore the breath from his lungs as Puff launched skyward.
The reserve shrank below them into a scatter of lantern lights and dark roofs. Cold air burned Carlos’ eyes, the scent of snow and pine filling his lungs as they cut through gathering storm clouds.
He clung to the ridge of Puff’s neck, heart hammering, fear dissolving into raw focus and the feeling of the bond starting to loosen up for every meter they got closer to Lando, flickering stronger.
Pain pulsed along it but Carlos could only focus on the most important part. Lando was alive.
They found him in a narrow valley carved between black stone cliffs.
Three wild dragons lay restrained in reinforced capture harnesses, their wings bound but alive, smoke curling weakly from their nostrils.
And in the center of the clearing… Lando.
Lando laid half-curled against the flank of the nearest dragon, one arm still looped through a restraint strap as if he had refused to release it even after collapsing.
His jacket was torn and blood had dried in dark splotches against the fabric at his shoulder.
Carlos slid down from Puff’s back before the dragon fully landed trying to get to the other man as soon as possible.
The air smelled of iron, damp earth, and ash, his clothes were getting dirty from the soil but he only had one thing he could focus on.
“Lando” he tried to call him with no response.
Carlos dropped to his knees beside him, hands hovering before finally touching his face.
He was warm and most importantly, breathing. The movement of his chest was shallow but it was still there.
Relief struck so hard his vision blurred and he could feel a single tear carving a path down his cheek.
Carlos knew he had to gather his thoughts and try to work as fast as possible. He took a steading breath and activated the emergency flare with unsteady hands, the flare hissed upward, painting the clouds in burning crimson.
Within the hour, wingbeats thundered overhead and George and Alex descended with the rescue team, lantern light swinging wildly across stone and scale while they worked efficiently stabilizing Lando and preparing transport for both him and the dragons.
George squeezed Carlos’ shoulder once, wordless and Alex wrapped a blanket around them both. Carlos did not let go of Lando’s hand for the whole flight home.
🔥 🔥 🔥
The smell of clean linen, herbs, and faint smoke from the hearth were the first things Lando noticed when he slowly woke up, the morning light filtering through gauze curtains in soft gold bands and creating an almost magical atmosphere.
The second thing he felt was warmth wrapped around his hand.
The third was that he could breath full and easy.
He turned his head, blinking slowly at the figure next to him.
Carlos sat beside the bed, eyes shadowed with exhaustion, fingers still laced with his.
“You’re here” Lando murmured.
Carlos exhaled, a sound halfway between a laugh and something fragile, almost on the verge of tears.
“You called me”
Lando frowned. “I did?”
And so, Carlos told him everything, Puff’s coming back to the Reserve, the broken thoughts, the flight, the valley and the three dragons.
“You rode Puff?” Lando stared at him, disbelief and affection mixed in his eyes.
Carlos nodded, his cheeks turning red, embarrassed that Lando couldn’t believe he flew on his own.
“But you’re terrified of flying”
Carlos’ thumb brushed across Lando’s knuckles and cleared his throat.
“For you” he said softly, “I would do it a hundred times more”
Silence settled between them full of things unsaid and a lot more to be said.
The bond pulsed, warm and bright between them, almost visible in the golden morning light and even the doctor that came to check on Lando and release him from the infirmary felt compelled to leave them a few more minutes on their own.
🔥 🔥 🔥
They did not keep Lando long after.
Physically, his injuries were shallow, just a torn shoulder muscle and bruised ribs mild enough to heal with rest.
The deeper damage was the exhaustion, and the strange hollow strain left by distance from his bond and the only thing that could cure them was sleep, rest and stay close to Carlos.
Carlos insisted on walking him home and here they were, bickering their way to Lando cottage.
“I can walk” Lando said for the fourth time as they crossed the cobbled path between low stone cottages.
“You are walking, yes, I can see that” Carlos replied calmly, one hand hovering at Lando’s elbow anyway.
Late afternoon light spilled across the reserve in warm amber bands. The smoke from hearth fires mingled with the crisp scent of frost and pine resin and the distant sound of wings rustling and dragons shifting in their roosts along the cliffs, the only symphony escorting the two exhausted men.
Lando caught Carlos glancing sideways every few steps.
“I’m fine”
“You almost died”
“I did not almost die”
Carlos stopped walking.
“You were unconscious in a ravine surrounded by restrained wild dragons, Lando” he tried to convey his message scrunching his eyebrows and articulating the sentence with his hands too.
“Okaaay, when you say it like that it sounds like I was. But it was not that serious, I swear!”
Carlos resumed walking ignoring Lando’s comment, but his hand brushed Lando’s sleeve again, almost like a reflex he didn’t seem aware of.
Lando’s cottage was small, warm, and cluttered with maps, dragon wooden figurines, and books stacked in unstable towers. The hearth still held the faint scent of charred cedar from the fire Alex had lit earlier to prepare the place for Lando coming back home.
Carlos paused just inside the doorway, scanning the room like a field medic assessing a battlefield.
“Sit” he said, and Lando sat.
Carlos adjusted the cushions behind his back.
Then adjusted them again.
Then handed him a blanket.
“I am not eighty, you know?”
“But you are injured”
“I have a scratch, it’s not like I lost a limb or something”
Carlos ignored him and disappeared into the kitchen alcove. Moments later he returned with a glass of water.
“Drink”
Lando obeyed again, both parched and amused at the other man’s antics.
Carlos frowned.
“More”
“You are unbearable” Lando muttered, bringing the glass back to his mouth.
“Hydration is essential for a speedy recovery”
Lando drunk again while Carlos hovered next to him.
“Are you dizzy?”
“No”
“Nauseous?”
“No”
“Any pain?”
“Yes, you, in my ass. With all this interrogation”
Carlos’ mouth twitched, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fully fade, he adjusted the blanket one more time and smoothed the edge of it over Lando’s knee, tucking him in a little more.
After a while silence settled around them filled with the gentle crackle of the hearth and Puff’s faint rumbling snores outside the window.
The bond between them pulsed steady and calm now, like a quiet heartbeat shared between two bodies that were trying to sync up for life.
Lando watched Carlos pace once, twice, as if checking for invisible dangers in every corner of the room.
Then Carlos finally sat.
They were not touching but the air between them felt charged with something new that actually felt like home at the same time.
Lando stared at the firelight painting copper tones across Carlos’ cheekbones and, almost without his consent, the words slipped out.
“I missed sleeping with you”
Carlos blinked.
“I know, the warmth we shared helps regulate the bond” he said carefully, almost like a teacher speaking to a small child “Now that we understand the mechanism, maintaining proximity is important but we can find-”.
“Yes, okay” Lando interrupted, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “I know that’s part of it, but that’s not what I meant”.
Carlos frowned slightly. Lando looked down at his hands, then back up.
“It wasn’t just the bond” the room seemed to grow quieter word after word.
“I missed you” Lando said.
Carlos did not move and Lando swallowed, starting to think that maybe he went too far and ruined the tentative relationship they managed to create in the last few months but he realized that, now that he had started, he couldn’t stop there.
“I missed your skin being warm next to mine. I missed how you smell like herbs and smoke and something clean I can’t describe. I missed the way you breathe when you’re asleep”
Carlos’ lips parted but no sound came out “and” Lando added softly, “oddly enough, your snores too”
Carlos straightened looking affronted “I do not snore!”
“You absolutely do”
“I do not”
“You do, you sound like a polite little dragon purring” Lando said, trying to make some sort of noise that sounded more like a dragon choking than anything else, and Carlos spluttered in indignation.
“I do not sound like that!”
Lando laughed, a quiet, tired sound that loosened something in Carlos’ chest, then the laughter faded, leaving something softer behind.
“I missed you” Lando repeated, the words settling into the space between them like embers glowing in the ash, but they didn’t stay there for long.
Carlos moved before he fully decided to, he shifted closer and their knees touched.
The contact sent a warm ripple through the bond, a quiet hum spreading beneath their ribs.
Carlos lifted his hand slowly, giving Lando time to pull away.
He didn’t.
His fingers brushed Lando’s cheek, tentative at first, then getting more confident as warmth bloomed under his touch. Lando leaned into it instinctively, eyes closing as if the contact anchored him to something steady and safe.
Carlos’ thumb traced the edge of his cheekbone, memorizing the shape and making Lando’s breath hitch.
The world narrowed to warmth, breath, and the soft brush of skin on skin.
They leaned toward each other without speaking until their foreheads touched and the bond flared, bright and full, like sunlight through closed eyelids in a warm spring afternoon.
Lando inhaled softly, feeling the warmth spread through his chest, dissolving the last fragile ache left by the distance of the previous days.
Carlos tilted his head slightly making their noses brush.
The first contact of lips was so soft that it was more of a question rather than an answer.
Warmth bloomed instantly, a soft golden current flowing through nerves and lungs, from their fingertips to their hearts.
Lando’s fingers curled into Carlos’ shirt as the kiss deepened, slow and reverent, as if both were afraid to rush something sacred, savouring every sensation like they didn’t have enough time and all the time in the world at the same time.
Carlos felt the exact moment Lando relaxed into it, the shift imperceptible but something in his chest settled into perfect alignment.
Lando exhaled softly against his mouth, a breath that carried relief, longing, and quiet wonder and it made Carlos shiver, goosebumps that turned into a little giggle before getting back to the softness of Lando’s mouth.
Outside the window, Puff released a pleased puff of smoke that curled into the cold afternoon air like a celebratory ribbon in a funny heart shape.
Inside, breath came easy and the bond glowed steady.
And for the first time since they met again, nothing hurt.
🔥 🔥 🔥
Carlos woke to warmth, not the steady warmth of a fire going in the hearth or thick blankets, but the living, breathing warmth of another body curved into his side.
For several quiet seconds, he didn't open his eyes, almost scared that, opening them, the spell would break.
He simply existed in the sensation of the bond resting between his ribs like a slow golden ember, steady and reassuring.
Lando was half draped across him, one leg tangled with his, his face tucked against Carlos’ shoulder and neck as if he had migrated there in sleep without waking. His breath fanned softly through the collar of Carlos’ shirt and Carlos felt alive for the first time in a long while.
Carlos allowed himself one last slow intake of breath. Smoke, clean linen, faint cedar, and something unmistakably Lando.
Outside, dawn filtered through thin curtains, painting the room in pale gold. Puff shifted somewhere beyond the window, claws scraping stone followed by a satisfied rumble that vibrated faintly through the floorboards.
Lando stirred, his fingers tightened briefly in Carlos’ shirt, as if ensuring he was still there.
Carlos brushed his thumb along the line of Lando’s wrist, smiling.
“Good morning” he murmured.
Lando made a small sound, not quite awake yet, and burrowed closer. Carlos huffed a quiet laugh at the cute display.
“You are very heavy for someone who nearly bled to death yesterday”
“Such a romantic you are” Lando mumbled against his collarbone.
“I am, when I want to be”
Lando considered that.
"Mmh, acceptable”
They lay there a while longer, breathing in the slow rhythm of morning and drifting back to sleep in each other's arms.
🔥 🔥 🔥
The knock at the door was brisk, and entirely too cheerful for that time of the day.
Lando groaned.
Carlos closed his eyes briefly, tightening his arms around the other man. “If we don’t move, they might think we are not here and leave”.
Another knock.
Then the door opened without waiting for permission.
George stepped inside with composed politeness that did not hide the curiosity in his eyes. Behind him, Alex leaned against the doorframe carrying a small parcel wrapped in a colorful cloth.
Both men stopped as they took in the scene in front of them. The tangled blankets all over the sofa, Lando fused to Carlos' hip and Carlos’ arm still wrapped around him and George folded his arms and smirked.
“Well,” he said mildly “this looks like you have improved, should we report to your doctor that you are feeling better?”
Alex grinned. “He looks much better”
Lando did not move, just blushed to the tips of his hears.
“If we pretend we are dead” he muttered into Carlos’ shoulder, “they might go away”
Carlos did not remove his arm but smiled and looked down softly.
“They brought food” he said and Lando lifted his head immediately.
Alex laughed. “OOh look, a miracle, he is alive!”
They eventually untangled themselves, though Lando remained suspiciously close as Carlos adjusted the blankets and ensured he was sitting upright.
George watched this with poorly concealed satisfaction.
“So” he said “your breathing improved?”
“Yes” Carlos replied calmly.
“Chest pain?”
“Solved”
“Dizziness?”
Carlos glanced at Lando. “Only occasionally, but I think it’s more for the blood loss than the bond”
Alex snorted but Lando ignored him, reaching for the parcel.
“What did you bring?”
“Bread” Alex said. “And honey. And also the knowledge that the entire Reserve saw Puff sleeping outside your window like he was protecting his nest”
A pleased rumble sounded from outside and Lando looked toward the window.
“He earned it.”
George’s gaze flicked between them, perceptive and warm.
“And you?” he asked softly. “Both of you?”
The bond pulsed in quiet answer, Carlos inclined his head once and Lando’s mouth curved into something softer than his usual grin. They didn’t need words, they already knew.
“Yea,” he said. “We’re… good, amazing , really”
Alex clapped his hands once. “Excellent. Because if you made us carry that dragon to the infirmary one more time-”
“He weighs more than a carriage” George added, theatrically wiping imaginary sweat from his brows.
“And he was clearly faking all of them” Alex finished.
A dramatic offended snort sounded outside.
“He got what he wanted, no? Such a clever boy” Lando grinned.
Alex and George stayed only a short while, leaving behind bread, honey, and the comfortable certainty of a chosen family.
When the door closed again, the quiet returned the morning sunlight had grown warmer, spilling across the room in golden stripes.
Carlos brushed a crumb from Lando’s lip without thinking and Lando caught his wrist, pressing a brief kiss to his knuckles.
Outside, Puff exhaled a lazy plume of smoke into the brightening sky.