Work Text:
Miami was…it was shit, if he was being completely honest. Not just because of the way the race went, how he didn’t even finish it after that contact with Pierre. And while the race results definitely could’ve been better, that wasn’t the main reason for his sulking in a hotel room after the race, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. The cause for his bad mood was quite simple, really, and a bit ridiculous, if he was being completely honest with himself.
He missed Max, it felt as though it had been a lifetime since he had last seen him. Daniel would call his moping pathetic, but he was really the last person that could say anything on the matter, seeing how head over heels he was for his own Max.
Really the only good thing that came out of the Miami race week was when he was partly forced to wear that crop top and strut around the paddock. Party because well…he might have had some talks with Max that they sometimes indulged in late at night, both of them tired, their eyes bleary from sitting in front of a computer screen, ignoring the outside world as well as their own wellbeing. Sometimes Max would bring up a female character from some game or other, how hot she looked in crop tops and tight jeans, making a joke about how good Lando would look in those kinds of clothes.
Except, well, his tone wasn’t always joking, and the way he looked at Lando while lying across from him on the couch, his eyes partly closed, glancing at the sliver of skin that showed when his shirt had ridden up slightly, there wasn’t just mischief in his eyes, there was something else as well. It just made Lando wonder, that’s all, made him wonder if maybe there was something more, if maybe all he needed was just a little push. So when McLaren had told him and Daniel of the plan, of having them wear the cropped merch, Lando still protested, only a little bit, just enough to not look too willing to wear something like that. But in his mind, he was already burning with anticipation of what Max’s reaction would be. It was a bit annoying at first, walking around the paddock with his midriff showing, Daniel beaming next to him.
And maybe he had to stop himself from throwing up when he saw the way Max Verstappen looked at Dan, his eyes raking over his body, sucking on the straw from his water bottle, making direct eye contact with the Australian who only added fuel to the fire, lifting his arms, stretching in the middle of the paddock, showing even more skin which caused Max to choke on his water and break eye contact, his face flushed red.
He ignored them in the end, deciding that maybe it was better if he didn’t go and visit Daniel’s motorhome that day, or the next. It was only when he was back in his hotel room after the free practice that he allowed himself to really check his phone, seeing the hundreds of notifications on the screen, his eyes immediately zeroing on the message from the one and only Max Fewtrell.
I was right.
He shifted on the bed, trying to get more comfortable before typing out a hurried reply of “About what?”. The answer came back sooner than expected and it made him wonder whether Max had been waiting for his text, but he quickly got rid of that thought, not wanting to fall any deeper into that rabbit hole than he already had.
You do look good in it.
And if Lando screamed into his pillow and then spent the evening flirting with Max through texts, falling asleep to fantasies of what all else could happen if he wore that crop top around Max, well then, that was his business only.
Still, it didn’t change the fact that he missed his best friend like crazy, spent all the time he had either texting him or visiting all the shops Miami had to offer, not letting himself leave the states without at least a little souvenir for Max. He’d give him the whole world if he could. And yes, there were so many other things he could buy him, the amount of times the idea of buying him a yearly pass to all the races crossed his mind was quite frankly embarrassing, and he had to hold himself back each time, not wanting to come across too strong, as well as the fact that he was afraid that if he presented his friend with that kind of gift he could feel forced to visit each race, and Lando really didn’t want to pressure him in any way.
He ended up buying him a hoodie with palm trees printed all over the front and a spray paint design on the back. It was comfy and he knew just how much Max loved his collection of hoodies. Or rather, Lando’s collection of hoodies, seeing as he was always stealing them. Not that Lando himself was any better when it came to sticking to wearing only his own clothes and not his best friend’s, but we don’t talk about that.
Once he got back home, back to England, it didn’t take long for him and Max to meet up again, a reunion full of hugs, laughs and Lando falling more in love with each second that passed. He missed that, missed having Max that close to him, especially since he moved to Monaco. But that was just an empty apartment, it wasn’t this, it wasn’t home without Max by his side. The plan had begun forming in his mind before he even left Miami and he knew that it was time to put it into action. Some people, better known as Alex Albon, might say that it would be better if Lando spent more time thinking about things and actually dealing with his feelings instead of making elaborate plans in order to avoid said feelings and hoping it will all work out in some way. Lando chose to ignore those people.
Anyway, back to his plan. He wanted Max with him, in Monaco, he wanted to spend more time with him, but it would come out weird if he were to just go and straight up ask him to move in, right? Hence, the plan. He and Max had a running joke, pretending as though they didn’t know each other’s birthdays, as though it was just any other day in the year. Lando was pretty sure he failed at that gag each time, seeing as he always went all out when the day for celebrating actually came around. But just this once, his inability to be subtle with his affections just might come in handy. He put the plan in motion the day he saw Max again, when they were both lying on a couch watching some shitty reality show, criticizing the stars. Lando waited for a lull in the conversation and then spoke up, successfully gaining Max’s attention the second he opened his mouth.
“Hey, when’s your birthday again?”
The offended look on Max’s face was almost enough for Lando’s facade to break, but he couldn’t give in, not when the plan had only just started to unravel.
“Are you kidding me right now mate?”
Lando shook his head, pretending to be deep in thought, pretending like he doesn’t know that Max’s birthday isn’t more than two months away. He then sat up suddenly, as though he had just thought of the most genius thing ever.
“What if we just have a party now? I mean it really doesn’t matter when you celebrate it, right? It’s the thought that counts and all that.”
Max was still looking at him a bit incredulously, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, so Lando was taking that as a win.
“Alright, and where would you think to celebrate it, here?”
Lando only waved his hand, almost smacking Max across the face in the process.
“Nah, not here, not the right…what do you call it, ambiance?”
Max laughed and lied back down on the couch, his head landing in Lando’s lap and before he knew it his fingers were already brushing through his hair, because it’s normal, it’s their normal, always has been. Only that Max looked significantly happier, and there was a wide smile on his lips and yeah, Lando missed him so much.
“Where then?”
“Well, I was thinking Monaco, the best place for the parties, wouldn’t you agree?”
Max noded, but Lando can tell that he was already drifting off, his eyes closing no matter how hard he’s trying to keep awake. He fell asleep in Lando’s lap, the mumbled words of agreement being the last thing that Lando heard that evening. He got lost in his thoughts, his fingers still carding through Max’s hair and he absolutely did not think about how it would feel like to kiss him in that moment, with the moon shining down on him, painting his features a pale silver.
Only a few days passed before the two of them were walking down the streets of Monte Carlo, hurrying to Lando’s apartment, wanting nothing more than to escape the heat that was seemingly taking over the entire country. Lando had already texted all of their mutual friends, such as Max Verstappen and a few people from their karting days they still stayed in contact with, making a reservation at Max’s favorite restaurant. It was all turning out to be quite a memorable celebration. The Miami hoodie was still packed in Lando’s suitcase and he took the time to wrap it on the evening before the party, putting a sticky note on top, writing Now you don’t have to steal any of mine, on it.
Max and him got ready together, and it didn’t take Lando more than a few seconds to notice that Max was wearing a shirt that he had once again stolen from Lando’s closet. He didn’t say a word about it though. Didn’t say about how warm it made him feel when he saw him wearing it, or how good he made it look. They made their way to the restaurant together, sat down together, and Lando tried to ignore the way Max Verstappen’s looked at Max’s arm around Lando’s shoulders. He sat down in between them at the end anyway. He loved both Maxes, just in a very different way. Besides, he was pretty sure he’d be killed by his own teammate if he ever so much as mentioned loving the Dutchman in a way that was anything but purely friendly.
Then the guests started coming, all of them bringing gifts as well, and while Max was confused at first with all the presents he was receiving he quickly gave up and just played along. He unwrapped Lando’s gift last, smirking at the post it note on top, leaning over to Lando to whisper in his ear and Lando absolutely did not have to fight back a blush at the action, thank you very much.
“I know you secretly love it when I steal your hoodies, don’t lie to me.”
His throat was too dry to answer, he felt like his head was spinning even though he barely had anything to drink. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to start at that moment though, what was the worst that could happen, really? Things got easier after that, it was easier to laugh, easier to look at Max without having self doubts about it, easier to lean on his shoulder when he got tired, easier to smile when he felt the other’s arm around his waist, just…easier. The walk home was easier as well. It was Lando with his hand thrown around Max’s shoulders and Max’s wrapped around Lando’s waist, both of them laughing at nothing, drunk on alcohol and love that they refused to acknowledge.
Lando was still sneaking glances at Max even as they entered his apartment and an idea popped into his mind as he saw the other walking towards the guest room. An idea that he knew he wouldn’t dare go through with if he wasn’t at least slightly under the effect of alcohol. He made a desperate attempt to grab Max’s hand, pulling him back despite the curious look on his face and the way his eyelids were drooping.
“Wait I- I have another gift for you.”
“Are you being serious? Because I’m pretty sure that I would very much appreciate my bed and a glass of water right now.”
“No, no, you’ll like it, I swear.”
He could hear the sigh that Max let out, but Lando wasn’t looking at his face anymore, his eyes darting all over the place and then making a decision in a split second, throwing himself forward, landing against Max’s chest and tugging him into a hug, so close to him that he could feel his heartbeat. His arms wrapped themselves around Max’s shoulders and after a second or two Max’s arms returned to their spot around Lando’s waist and he hugged back, leaning his head against Lando’s. They stayed like that for a few minutes and Lando knew he could fall asleep like that, safe in Max’s arms, feeling his warmth against his own body. He pulled away after too much time had passed in the end, but still kept his hands on the edge of Max’s shoulders.
He then leaned up, his lips ever so slightly brushing over Max’s cheek, kissing him gently, feeling him inhale sharply at the contact. Taking a step back, he was almost afraid to glance up, to see the expression on Max’s face, afraid that he had ruined it all, years of friendship, just gone. In the end, Max made the decision for him, hooking a finger under his chin and making him raise his gaze again, making their eyes meet. His next words were a whisper, so quiet that Lando couldn’t hear them if he weren’t as close to Max as he was in that second.
“You missed.”
This time it was Lando that was left breathless, even as Max pulled him closer, closing the distance between them, kissing him softly, this time on the lips, still partly unsure, his hands still holding Lando’s waist, his fingers brushing the skin under his shirt comfortingly. It was only once Lando kissed back, feeling as though his heart was exploding and fixing itself all at once, that Max got more confident in his actions, exhaling into the kiss and Lando smiled against his lips, letting himself live in that moment, feeling the love that they were both expressing without any words.
It goes without saying Max didn’t sleep in the guest room that night. And that he asked for the same gift when his actual birthday did come around, and Lando gave it to him without any objections.