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bbyschumacher · 2 years ago

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6 to 1 | lando norris (part 8)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 8 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

exhausting is the word of the day. your fears are replaced by anxiety and there's only person in the world who can seem to make those feelings dissipate. lando had previously made it clear that he has no intentions to go anywhere, but does that statement still stand?

word count: 6.8k tags/warnings: some angst, poorly translated french and italian spotify playlist for this fic here

You swung open the door to Lando’s flat in the heart of London and disarmed the security system. He hadn’t been here for a few days and honestly, you didn’t intend on coming back here either. The plan was to go straight to Monaco from Silverstone tomorrow morning, that was why you brought everything with you to the hotel.

Now you had nothing except the clothes on your back, your phone and whatever managed to fit in your purse, which wasn’t much.

You had left straight from the race, before the race even started, calling up the same driver that Lando had booked for you this weekend and you asked him to take you here, to Lando’s.

Arthur had been texting you updates throughout the race, but you eventually turned your phone on do not disturb. You didn't care about the outcome, you didn’t care that Charles was let down yet again by Ferrari’s stupid pit stop strategy, you didn’t care about any of it.

And the drive from Silverstone to London was long. By the time you arrived at the flat, you knew the race had to be over, or at least close to it.

But you didn’t turn on the tv to catch the end of it. Instead you headed straight to the ensuite and stripped yourself of the clothes that were still partly damp and you stepped into the shower.

You stayed in there until your skin started to prune. When you reached for the soap you remembered that nothing in here belonged to you, everything of yours was packed away and you had no choice but to grab Lando’s.

The scent of his body wash shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was, but at this point you had gotten so used to it, used to him.

When you stepped out of the shower you had very limited options. Either sit in the towel until your clothes had finished their run through the washer and dryer, or roam through Lando’s closet to find something to put on.

It was a no brainer.

The Quadrant jumper fell to your thighs, he always wore his sweaters a few sizes too big, he said he liked the baggy look. As for bottoms, he didn’t have a huge selection so you opted for a pair of basketball shorts and tied the strings up as tight as they would go to keep them from falling.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and knew that Lando would have a heart attack if he saw you. He always wanted you to wear his merch, and not for a promo shoot, not for an ad, but because that was how you showed your support.

When you picked up your phone you saw you had a few missed calls, all from Arthur. You knew he was concerned, you didn’t tell him, or anyone, where you were going. You just sent him a text asking him to bring your suitcases with him back to Monaco tomorrow.

And then you turned your phone off and curled up on the couch. You grabbed the blanket that had been draped over the back of it and pulled it on top of you. There was no reason for you to be as tired as you were, but it was the anxiety that was eating you alive.

You didn’t know what to say to Charles when you saw him next.

You had no idea if Lando was even going to be coming back here now that the race was over. And if he did, would he give you the time of day or would he just ask you to leave?

You were terrified to look up the outcome of today’s race, terrified of the possibility of everything you said to Charles potentially backfiring.

You ran through every possible scenario in your head until your brain went into shut-down mode and practically forced you asleep before you could cause a stress induced heart attack.

There was a good chance you would have slept through the night had you not heard the chime of the alarm system going off, indicating that the front door to the flat had been opened. You stirred awake, rubbing your eyes as you sat up, glancing at the clock under the TV that read 23:18 in bright red numbers.

You didn’t let yourself think about how late it was though. In fact, you felt a jolt of energy rush through you when you turned your head and met the tired eyes of Lando.

He didn’t look confused to see you. But he also didn’t look happy. He looked about as exhausted as you felt. You wondered how his race went, if you had somehow managed to get into his head too and ultimately fucked up his performance like you might have with your brothers.

Lando dropped his bag down on the floor next to his feet but he stayed standing by the door. You turned on the couch, sitting up on your knees to look at him. If seeing you in his Quadrant hoodie gave him any sense of comfort, he didn’t show it.

He dragged his hand through his curls, an obvious sign of distress. He probably didn’t know how to feel seeing you. You could understand the conflicting emotions.

He finally decided on something to say, something that didn’t give you any sort of hint as to how the rest of the conversation would go.

“I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but you know you don’t live here, right?”

“I know.”

“Okay,” Lando nodded, glancing around his flat.

It was in nearly pristine condition, you made sure to clean before you left on Saturday. The only thing that stood out was the empty vase sitting on top of the dining room table. There were no longer any daisies in there, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put the vase away.

He looked at you again, his jaw tense as he swallowed, “So why are you here?”

The answer was simple, “I didn’t want to go anywhere else.”

You stood up from the couch and Lando let his eyes rake over your body. If this were any other day, Lando would be making some sort of smart-ass comment about you wearing his merch. He’d probably roll his eyes and make a big deal about you using his products, anything to tease you, to get even a sliver of a smile out of you.

But he stayed by the door. Was that for his own reassurance? Maybe he felt better knowing he could open it up if this got too difficult and slide out in the late London air. Wandering the streets of the city in the middle of the night might have seemed like a safer option than wherever this conversation was going to lead.

Lando had said everything he needed to say. He had made it clear that he wanted you, that the ball was quite literally in your court now. Whatever you said, however you chose to act around him, would set up the precedent for your relationship moving forward.

So when you reached for his hand, Lando felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

“I didn’t want to go anywhere else,” you repeated, ensuring that he was really hearing you. You could have gone anywhere, Charles told you to take the plane but you were pulled back to Lando’s flat in London.

That car ride gave you the chance to think about what happened. You could understand now why you froze in front of him in his driver's room, why you couldn’t tell him you made up your mind.

It was such a rash decision, everything that happened, happened in such a short period of time. Finding out that Charles knew about Pierre and you, dropping bombshell after bombshell on your brother, deciding to put yourself first, something you never did. This series of events was fueled by adrenaline and you were hoping Lando would match your energy after running through the paddock to him, but instead he forced you to slow down.

He could see your enthusiasm, why else would you have shown up at McLaren? But he didn’t want to be a spur of the moment choice. He wanted you to choose him because you meant it with every bone in your body. Not just today but tomorrow and the next day and every day after that.

Running through the rain to confess your feelings was a beautiful gesture, but what good was a gesture if you couldn’t follow through with its intent? If there was a risk you would take it all back once the dust had settled? Lando couldn't take that risk.

But you being here now, in his home, waiting for him to show up without even knowing if he would…this wasn’t a gesture. There was a deeper purpose. You wanted to show Lando that you weren't going anywhere.

Adrenaline aside, you were here.

Lando crashed his lips to yours, his fingers holding your jaw to keep your face tilted upwards. Your hand trailed upwards to tangle your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as you kissed him back.

It was like nothing else mattered, just you and him. You could feel his smile grow against your lips. There was less urgency as you kissed compared to past times, just the desire to be present in this moment. His mouth moved against yours and you just knew this was the right choice. This was where you were supposed to be. With him.

You were breathless as Lando pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. He took hold of one of the strings of your hoodie, his hoodie, and twirled it around his finger before using to pull you closer once again, attaching his lips to yours for another kiss, and then another and then another until you had to pull away because your cheeks were hurting so much from trying to contain your smile.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” you told him. As much as you wanted to escape from reality and be happy in this bubble you created, there were still a few things you needed to get off your chest.

“I don’t even care,” Lando shook his head. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

“No Lando, I really am sorry,” your expression fell as your eyes found his. “You’ve made your intentions clear this whole time and I just led you on like it was some stupid game and I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well to be fair, it was a game at first,” Lando chuckled. “And I’m still determined to move up your driver ranking, I reckon it’ll be a bit easier now.”

Carlos’ face flashed through your mind and Lando must have noticed the way you momentarily tensed. Standing right in front of you, it was almost impossible for him to miss the way your eyes glossed over.

“What?” He asked, trying to make a joke of it. “You don’t think you’ll ever like me more than Carlos?”

“No that’s not-” this was not something you thought through. “I need to talk to you about Carlos.”

Now Lando was nervous. You had never expressed any interest in chatting about Carlos before, in fact you shut down the topic of the Ferrari driver a number of times.

“What about him?”

“Um…” a sharp inhale passed through your lips. “I just- well it’s just that-” this was like ripping off a bandage, you just had to say it and be done. “Okay I kind of maybe sort of might have-” oh you were stalling. You took a breath and forced yourself to finish. “...kissed…Carlos…”

This was certainly not what Lando was expecting to hear.

“You kind of-maybe-sort of-might have kissed Carlos?” Lando repeated you word for word. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I definitely kissed Carlos,” you clarified.

Lando rolled his eyes and he started to turn around but you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. You weren’t going to let this turn into a fight, not when things just started to get good.

“It was to prove a point!” You explained.

“To prove a point?” Lando raised his voice slightly, not enough to alarm you but enough for you to know that you really had to be careful with your words. “What point, exactly? That half the drivers on the grid are in love with you? This is common knowledge, Y/N you didn’t need to kiss Carlos!”

You were physically taken aback by that statement, “Wait, what?”

Lando paused, eyebrows pinched together, “That’s not- that’s not why you kissed him?”

“No but we’re going to circle back to that,” you told him, pushing his words to the back of your mind for now. “I needed to prove a point to Charles. He needed to understand that what I do, who I interact with, shouldn’t matter. He should be able to race without worrying about me or what I’m doing.”

“Or who you’re doing,” Lando muttered and because you stood only inches apart, your best move was to hit the side of his arm to get the message across.

“I didn’t sleep with Carlos,” your tone demanded his attention and Lando’s eyes widened as he immediately regretted letting those words slip out. “But I told Charles I slept with Pierre. I told him I liked you and then I kissed Carlos as well because he needed to get it through his head that my life is my life and he shouldn’t have control over it just because he races with you guys.”

That was the short version of it all. You knew eventually you’d have to explain word for word what Charles said but you were hoping right now Lando would understand enough so you could move past it.

Lando needed a second to process everything. The silence between you wasn’t deafening but it wasn’t reassuring either.

“You did and said all of that today?” He asked.

“Yeah, before I ran through the rain to talk to you.”

“Oh,” Lando nodded slowly. “Oh, so right before the race start announcement?”

“I mean, I guess so.”

Lando knew something you didn’t. That was the only reason he was asking these clarifying questions, trying to piece the timeline together.

“You didn’t watch the race, did you?” Lando then asked, but he already knew the answer.

“No, why?”

“You didn’t see where Charles ended up?”

“No, why?” You repeated, louder this time. All you knew was he was given a poor strategy that didn’t work out in his favour. “What happened to him?”

“He-” Lando looked guilty, like he didn’t want to be the one to break the bad news to you, even if what happened had nothing to do with him. “He DNF’d, Y/N. On lap like 46 I think, pretty close to the end.”

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course part of you felt responsible without even knowing what the cause was. Even if it was a hydraulics issue, even if it was the furthest thing from driver error, part of you felt at fault for his retirement.

What if everything you said and did really did get into Charles’ head? What if it messed him up for the race? Threw him off his game even the slightest bit?

“You’re spiralling.”

You didn’t even have to say anything for Lando to recognise what was currently going through your head. He grabbed your shoulders and dipped his head a few inches to be at your level.

“He’s fine,” Lando said, rushing to get that out. “He’s not injured, nothing bad happened. It was a mix between poor strategy and driver error but it wasn’t your fault.”

“This is exactly what he warned me about. I got in his head, Lando.” You tensed, wanting Lando to drop his hands from you. Physical touch wasn’t something that helped you in times of distress. “Charles is going to blame me, he’s just going to use this against me- why the fuck did I say all of that to him right before a race?”

“Because it needed to be said,” Lando scoffed, finding the reasoning that you were unable to. “Granted, kissing Carlos maybe wasn’t-” you shot him an icy look and he instantly shut up. Lando changed the direction of the conversation. "Just sit down, okay? There's no sense in worrying about it tonight. The race is over and you're not even in the same city as him."

Lando nudged you towards the couch and he was smart to grab your phone from the coffee table before you could do anything rash like call Charles and apologise. Did you owe him an apology?

It would be so easy for him to blame you.

And part you felt like you needed to take that blame.

Lando sat down next to you in the corner of the couch, pulling you into his side. His hand ran up and down along your arm as your head rested against his chest. It was comforting, feeling each breath he took beneath your cheek, hearing his steady heartbeat in comparison to yours nearly beating out of your own chest.

“Do you think I’m a bad sister?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“God no,” Lando’s lack of hesitation should have helped put you at ease, but it didn’t. “If Charles blames you for what happened, he’s the shitty sibling.”

You weren’t even sure if he had tried to get ahold of you at all. After the few texts you exchanged with Arthur, you stopped looking at your phone. And now Lando had it and he probably had no intentions of giving it back before the night was over.

He knew you would want to call Charles. He knew Charles would inevitably guilt you into taking responsibility for what happened. He knew a face to face conversation would be smarter than trying to work out your problems over a phone call.

So Lando hatched up a plan to bring you back to Monaco. Neither of you could stay in his flat in London forever and with two weeks until the next race, the smartest thing to do was return to Monte Carlo. There, you could talk to Charles. You both could. Lando could explain that he had nothing but good intentions with his sister and you could draw the line with Charles so that the conversations you had over the last few days wouldn’t have to happen again.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep curled up next to Lando. With his fingers tracing shapes aimlessly over the sleeve of the jumper and with how exhausting the last 24 hours have been, you finally felt a sense of security with him, one you hadn’t felt before.

Lando waited until he knew you were fast asleep, getting flashbacks to that night he picked you up from the wedding, before he reached for his phone that was tucked away in his pocket. He was so careful not to disturb you, even typing with just his left thumb to keep his right arm tightly bwrapped around you.

He sent a quick message to his assistant, asking him to book a flight for the two of you for tomorrow. When he got the confirmation that everything would be taken care of, Lando dropped his phone onto the side table and carefully stood up from the couch, using his other arm to scoop you up and carry you to the bedroom down the hall.

You stirred in his arms, having woken up slightly but you kept your eyes closed until you felt yourself being placed on the mattress. Your head hit the pillow and Lando carefully brushed a few strands of hair out of your face.

Now it was your turn to be brought back to that first night.

“Can you stay?”

You were sober this time, but Lando still had to take a second to process whether or not he heard you correctly as he stood next to the bed. When your eyes fluttered open to look up at his looming figure, you lazily reached for his hand.

And Lando couldn’t think of a good enough reason to say no.

Why would he spend the night on the couch again? There was no requirement anymore. There wasn’t that prominent need to be careful around you anymore, not when you both made your feelings perfectly clear.

So he nodded. A tired smile curled up on your lips before Lando gave your hand an affirming squeeze. He excused himself to get ready for bed but when he walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, you were thankful that sleep hadn’t completely taken over you again.

You were awake enough to watch as he pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it in the corner of the room. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and the second he crawled into bed next to you, you turned on your side to face him.

The lights may have been off but you could see everything you needed to. And even if you couldn’t, you could feel. You placed the palm of your hand against his hard chest before sliding it up to rest around his shoulder. Lando gripped the underside of your thigh and pulled it on top of his legs. Both of you were already well aware of how perfectly your bodies moulded together.

“What if I get used to sleeping like this?” Your quiet voice filled the bedroom. The question held as much fear as it did hope. Lando knew you had never been in a relationship before, he knew that something as simple as sharing a bed was unchartered waters.

His fingers spread out over your leg and his deep chuckle sent a shiver down your back. He turned his head on the pillow to look at you.

“Then it’s a good thing we both live in Monaco.”

He had a point. It would be easy enough to see each other between races if you were both back home. It was annoying, really, that you were already thinking about that. Thinking about how long it would take to make yourself at home at his place and vice versa. About whose flat you would spend more time at, probably his. All of these different scenarios filled your head.

You recognized the way the corner of his lips curled upwards and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he was thinking of the exact same things. And maybe you were both getting ahead of yourselves, this was still so new, but you were ready to dive in head first. You didn’t want to let your fears stop you from being happy.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you back but there was some hesitancy on his part and you noticed it.

“What?” You asked, propping yourself up a bit.

Lando opened his mouth, only to promptly close it. And you weren’t someone who let things go easily so you nudged his shoulder and repeated yourself.

“What, Lando?”

Whatever he wanted to say, seemed to cause him physical discomfort but he tried to play it off like it didn’t.

“It’s nothing, really,” Lando told you. You counted in your head, waiting to see how long it would take until he followed that sentence with a ‘but’.

Three. Three seconds.

“But I just-” Lando sucked in a quick breath. “If I’m being honest, I don’t like that you kissed Carlos.”

If there was any doubt before, you were certainly awake now.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“Well you can’t blame me for thinking about it!” He exclaimed with a chuckle. It was clear he wasn’t angry about it, but it was something that wasn’t sitting right with him. “He’s one of my best mates and you always said there was nothing going on between you two.”

“There isn’t,” you rolled your eyes. “There never has been.”

“But you kissed him.”

“To prove a point to Charles,” that ultimately backfired, but still. “Carlos just so happened to be there, if it was any other driver I would have done the exact same thing.”

“I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”

“Well what do you want me to say, Lando?” You asked, trying your hardest to not sound annoyed at this topic. You genuinely didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but you could understand where he was coming from. You just weren’t sure if he understood where you were coming from.

And then a cocky little smirk appeared on his face, “Well, you could say I’m above him on your driver ranking.”

That’s what he was waiting for. An opportunity to slide that in.

He wasn’t actually concerned like he led you to believe. You pushed on his chest and laid back down as he laughed. Lando tried to hold you against him but you turned on your other side, facing away from him.

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

“I know,” he continued to laugh, still wrapping his arms around you and shuffling closer so your back was pressed against his chest. You purposely tensed in his arms, wanting him to know you were unimpressed with him.

But then Lando kissed the side of your neck softly and it was almost embarrassing how you instantly found yourself relaxing, and leaning into his touch.

You didn’t realise until right now, though, how thankful you were that Lando’s playful interactions weren’t going anywhere. Your entire friendship was built on a foundation of jokes and eye rolls and purposely trying to get on each other's nerves, in the most respectful way possible.

And that wasn’t going to change. You might respond to each other’s teases a little differently now, but ultimately, the thing that brought you two together seemed to be the glue that was going to keep you together.

“You still need to work for it, Norris,” you told him, referring to moving up in the placement of favourite drivers. If you were being honest with yourself, he probably didn’t have to work that hard, but now that the dynamic between you two had shifted, you were dying to know what he would come up with this time.

——————

Lando sprung the flight on you as soon as you woke up and it seemed to be not up for discussion. You couldn’t hide away in his London flat forever. Plus, all of your belongings were with Arthur, so you had no choice but to go home.

Lando and you agreed to keep some distance at the airport. He was easily recognizable, especially in London, but you weren’t and you wanted it to stay that way for at least a little while. The last thing you needed were photos of the two of you to surface before you had a chance to talk to your brother.

Really you just had to keep your hands to yourself until you were comfortably seated on the private plane his assistant had booked for today. It blew your mind how easy it was for him to request and receive a jet and a pilot, but you weren’t about to complain. Not having to worry about prying eyes or cell phones throughout the duration of the fight was like a breath of fresh air.

Once the plane had taken off, he asked if you wanted to join the mile high club. Granted, he wasn’t being serious but you promptly switched seats to sit across the aisle from him instead and put your airpods in.

“Is that a no?” Lando asked before you could turn your music on.

“It’s a no right now,” you answered. His cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you rolled your eyes at his immature tendencies.

You kept your head down and started to read on your phone, but out of the corner of your eye you could see him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. When you did finally lift your head, you watched as Lando peeled off his jumper and placed it in his lap. Automatically your eyes dropped and your eyebrows raised when you realised what he was trying to hide.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, stifling your laughter. “You’re hard?”

“I’m only human,” Lando shrugged innocently.

With your elbow on the armrest, you dropped your chin to your hand and sighed, “Lando, I’m not having sex with you for the first time on a plane.”

“But the way you say that makes it seem like it could happen,” he pointed out, clearly playing this up even though it was only making his situation worse.

“You have the mind of an eighteen year-old frat boy, do you realise that?”

“Or maybe you’re just really hot and also, I’m really into you.”

You glanced down at your apparel. You were still choosing to wear Lando’s clothes because it was a lot easier to throw that on this morning than have to wait for a load of laundry to finish so you could wear the clothes you wore yesterday. Lando didn’t seem to mind either. You walked out of his closet wearing one of his shirts and he responded by kissing you, muttering something about he much preferred this than a DR3 item.

But you didn’t feel hot. His clothes were baggy on you, you hadn’t showered yet today and any makeup that you had on was the result of not washing your face properly before you passed out, which you’d probably be paying the price for tomorrow.

Lando didn’t see what you saw though. He looked at you from across the aisle and thought, no, knew, you were the most beautiful girl he would ever lay eyes on. To him, he didn’t care what you were wearing.

And if anything, you wearing his clothes made you ten times hotter.

However you didn’t want to feed into his thoughts. You had enough will power for the two of you.

“Keep it in your pants, Norris.”

He muttered something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch but you could assume it was another comment about joining the mile high club.

He got up after a while to use the bathroom, or at least that’s what you thought when out of the corner of your eye you saw him toss his hoodie aside and stand up from the chair.

You didn’t expect him to walk directly to where you sat and take your face in his hands before leaning down and kissing you. You sat up straighter, completely abandoning your phone as you craned your neck upwards, wanting to kiss him back with as much passion as he was giving you.

Lando’s hand trailed down the slightest bit, grabbing hold of your jaw before he pulled away.

“What was that for?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from smiling. You could get used to this, Lando kissing you whenever he felt like it.

“No reason,” he shrugged, which was probably the best reason.

Your smile only grew as he kissed the top of your head, letting his hand run down your arm as he walked off, making sure to give your fingers a squeeze before he made his way towards the back of the airplane.

It was safe to say you were smitten, and horribly so.

When Lando returned from the bathroom he sat down next to you, and you were fine with that on the condition he stop it with the mile high club jokes. Not because they were annoying, but because if he didn’t stop giving you that devious look and charming grin, you could be coerced into meeting him in the bathroom.

And you really didn’t want that.

Well, you did. But not for your first time. And Lando knew this.

He could wait, you both could. In the meantime, though, Lando let his hands wander when you draped your legs over his lap. What started as a very innocent hand placement on your thigh slowly turned into his fingers creeping upwards, tickling your bare skin and causing very visible goosebumps.

His thumb dipped below the very loose material of the shorts you wore and your eyes shot up, warning him with a glare. The last thing you needed was for him to tease you while you were 35,000 feet up in the air.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His smirk said otherwise.

He kept his hand on you for the duration of the flight. You held your breath any time his fingers trailed up your leg. Lando’s touch was soft and you just knew it was a major contrast to what he wished he could have been doing. You saw the veins along the back of his hand, you knew just how much strength he had in his wrists alone.

But he respected what you asked. He didn’t cross any sort of line, even if he was dying to.

So you just suffered, basically, for the entire flight. Because Lando wasn’t going to take his hands off of you but he also wasn’t going to do anything that would ease your suffering.

It wasn’t until the plane landed in Nice did he lift his arms up to stretch, an all too innocent smile perched upon his face. You rolled your eyes but before you could get up, Lando pulled your face to his to kiss you once more in the privacy of the jet.

There was intent behind it. His lips moved against yours in a way that told you these last few hours of subtly teasing you on the plane wasn’t for nothing.

You were still smitten, but now you knew he was most certainly going to be the death of you.

He had the decency to tone it down once you both stepped off the plane and headed towards the car that was waiting on the tarmac. Lando gave the driver your address, and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“You have it memorised?”

He chuckled, “Is that- is that a bad thing?”

“You’ve been to my place once.”

Lando simply shrugged his shoulders and opened the door for you. He waited until you had your seatbelt on to shut it and climb in through the other side.

“You happy to be home?” He asked you quietly, trying to gauge how you would answer. You had been in the UK for weeks now that it was genuinely starting to feel like home.

“I’m happy that we’re both here,” you answered because it was as honest as you could be. Was Monaco really where you wanted to be right now? No. Ideally you would still be in London with Lando. But you couldn’t run from Charles forever. You had to talk to him eventually.

Lando placed his hand on your leg when you saw you pulling out your phone to call Charles after putting it off for what seemed like forever when in reality it had been less than 24 hours since you last spoke.

The dial tone seemed to go on for an eternity. And just when you thought he was going to pick up, you reached his voicemail instead. You looked at Lando, who calmly reminded you that he might be busy and that you have another brother who was also still in Silverstone.

Arthur picked up instantly.

“Have you heard from Charles?” You asked, not even bothering with a ‘hey, how’s it going’. You wanted to get right to the point.

“Uh, yeah I think he’s on a plane to Italy. Pretty sure he’s spending a few days in Maranello.” Arthur recalled. “He didn’t tell you?”

You dropped your forehead to your hand and sighed, “No, obviously not or I wouldn’t be calling you. When will he be home?”

“I think Saturday?” Arthur genuinely had no idea and as frustrated as you were that you couldn’t talk to Charles face to face, you couldn’t take it out on Arthur. “Are you in monaco?”

“Sto tornando a casa,” I’m on my way home. You glanced at Lando who now had his eyebrows pinched together as you switched from English to Italian. You put your hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze, an assurance that you were not talking about him in a different language.

Arthur and you chatted for a bit more, he told you he’d be home by tomorrow night and that he’d bring your luggage with him. He then mentioned something about getting together with your mother Saturday evening, something that you really couldn’t say no to. It was rare that all four of her kids were all in Monaco at the same time, so when you were, you had to take advantage of it.

“Je serai là pour le dîner,” I’ll be there for dinner. You looked at Lando again, who had stayed quiet for the entirety of your conversation with Arthur. He couldn’t keep up with you switching from English to Italian to French anyway.

He wasn’t looking at you, though. With his free hand, he was scrolling through some pictures on his phone. More specifically, the ones from the Quadrant shoot last week. He kept swiping back and forth between two of them.

One, where he was so obviously looking at you instead of the camera as you stood in front of the car, you were turned away from the camera to showcase the design on the back of the shirt. He was supposed to be looking at the camera, but he wasn’t. You remembered telling him to stop looking at you because the longer he looked at you the more your cheeks hurt from trying to contain your smile.

And then the other photo was one you weren’t even aware had been taken, you hadn’t seen it yet. Lando was facing the camera and you were slightly behind him, watching as he did his best model impersonation.

But you were really looking at him. In a way where you would have been embarrassed if he had caught you staring for too long. If he had turned around and noticed you, you would have averted your gaze immediately, but you couldn’t help it. You were enamoured with him. You didn’t want to pull your eyes off of him. Even if you didn’t want to admit it then, you knew now that you were really starting to fall for him.

Who plans a surprise photoshoot for you to model his own brand?

Lando does, apparently.

He was the same guy who made sure there were fresh daisies in a vase when you walked into his flat. The same guy who picked you up without question when you were too intoxicated to even stand up straight. The same guy who had been looking at you the way you looked at him this whole time and you had no idea.

Lando opened up the Instagram app on his phone right as Arthur repeated your name a few times, wondering if he had lost you in the last few seconds.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said.

He started talking about dinner again, and you cut him off before you could change your mind.

“Puis-je apporter un invité?” Can I bring a guest?

Arthur paused, “You mean Lando?”

He took your silence as a yes.

“Do you really think that’s smart?” Arthur asked. “Don’t you want to talk to Charles first before bringing Lando to dinner? Are you two even dating? What if-”

“You’re asking too many questions,” you interjected. Beside you, Lando chuckled. He turned his hand over to interlock your fingers together. He had no idea what Arthur was saying, but it didn’t matter, Lando would always be on your side.

“If you want to bring him, don’t give Charles a heads up. Otherwise he might not show.”

You snickered, “You think I should blindside him?”

“I didn’t use that word.”

“You basically did.”

Arthur sighed into the receiver, not wanting to be more involved in whatever decision you were going to make, “I’ll let you know when I’m home. Talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, have a safe flight,” you said and then hung up. As soon as you did, you rested your head on Lando’s shoulder. Without skipping a beat, he turned and kissed the top of your head.

You looked at your hands, still connected on your lap.

Your stomach twisted just thinking about what might happen if you really did invite Lando to the dinner. You never came out and explicitly said you would, hence why you asked Arthur in French as opposed to a language Lando would understand.

That way you could still change your mind.

Not because you didn’t want to bring Lando around your family, your family already knew who he was, but because you needed to really think about if his presence would be helpful or if it would cause a deeper divide between you and Charles.

landonorris

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landonorris part time gamer part time model

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ynleclerc don't you also drive fast cars?

landonorris only sometimes, not enough to put it on the resume

team_quadrant our favorite merch drop

daniel_ricciardo ric3.com

yn_daily rip to the people who wanted her and carlos to get together

siinz55 still waiting to hear what charles thinks about this

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @noescapricho-essentimiento if i missed someone im so sorry

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