Chapter Text
Christmas is Lando's favourite time of the year, but also the one he hates the most.
Being a Formula 1 driver has always been Lando’s dream and he knew from the very first race, that every step towards his dream was going to be a step away from his family, from time at home, and from the people that had to stay at home; unable to follow him all around the world.
For this reason, he loves Christmas.
It’s the down time that appeals to him. Time to spend with his family and friends that he can’t see a lot during the year, time to relax and be totally himself without any fear of being too much or not enough.
Christmas is the only time of the year when he can turn off his media image and spend quality time with his parents and siblings.
The problem is, family is not only parents and siblings.
It’s aunts that pinch your cheek every time they see you, grandmas that keep asking if you are eating enough and grandads enquiring about any girl in your life.
With Christmas come the greetings.
Hugs, pats on the back, kisses on both cheeks, and hair ruffling for every new relative that comes through the door at any given time of the day.
These are the times when Lando misses his lonely life in Woking, or in a hotel room all by himself.
Lando does not know why he is like this.
Everyone in his family loves warm greetings and hugs;always looking for body contact, a hand on his shoulder as they talk, a squeeze of the forearm to get his attention.
Lando, on the other hand, hates all of this.
He doesn't do it on purpose, it's a spontaneous reaction. He can't stand when people, even worse if they are people he doesn't know or with whom he doesn't have a close relationship, enter his personal space... let alone physical contact.
His therapist told him it’s normal, that some people like touch and other people don’t, but he is not so sure she is right. Sometimes when he gets all up in his head, he feels like he is missing something with his inability to let people near him. At the same time, he can’t get himself to stop tensing up or shying away from any type of personal touch.
Lando looks down at the kettle in his hands and he shakes himself from his thoughts before filling the cups he had lined up on the kitchen counter.
His family is out, his parents have gone to visit some relatives that Lando didn't even remember having. Flo and Cisca have gone for a walk to watch the Christmas lights, and only Oliver is left in the house.
The two brothers invited some friends over to spend an afternoon together and exchange gifts which, as agreed, are all positioned on the table in the centre of the half moon of sofas on which they are all seated.
Lando distributes the tea cups to the others. Cradling his own cup to warm his hands, he sits in a corner of the sofa, curling up and tucking his socked feet under himself. The chatter flows easily, safely pulling him into a sense of calm and familiarity until someone decides it's time to open the presents.
From above his cup, Lando watches his friends with a smile on his lips. One after the other they tear colored paper, cut ribbons, and stick bows on their foreheads after having detached them from their own gifts.
When his turn comes, his brother hands him an envelope. Lando takes it into his hands and turns it around, trying to figure out what might be hiding inside the cream-colored envelope with a big LANDO written in capital letters on the back.
The expectant looks on his friends faces are suspicious, but he sticks his finger in a small space and tears the envelope, breaking the seal.
The card that tumbles out is anonymous, almost resembling a gift card; perhaps one for a gym or a wellness centre.
Confused, Lando picks it up from the carpet it had fallen on.
When his brain registers the words written in his brother's chicken scratch handwriting that compliment those pre-printed on the card, Lando's confusion only increases, rather than going away.
“What’s this? Did you pay someone to sleep with me? That’s a bit tasteless,” Lando tries to joke, still overall confused on what a professional cuddler might be.
A collective laugh rises from the group of boys scattered on the sofas.
"Have you lost the ability to read?" Max asks, taking the card from his hands and pointing to a few words on it, "Professional cuddler. I knew you didn't like being hugged but I didn't think you didn’t even know what cuddles are," he concludes, ruffling his friend's hair.
Lando, as expected, dodges it, muttering a soft don't touch me and throwing him a look that should have been intimidating, but that only elicits a chuckle from Max.
"You see? This is why we gave you this gift. You have to try to let yourself go. When was the last time someone hugged you, who wasn’t our mum?" Olli intervenes, and, before Lando can answer, he goes on "and in any case, Mum has to take you in by force too. So we thought that these five sessions of cuddles with a professional in the field could help you to unlock and open yourself up a bit".
Lando listens to his brother's speech with wide eyes, his lips opening and closing but not releasing any sound.
"Are you kidding me?" asks Lando, outraged, "Are you really joking about something you know perfectly well that makes me feel bad too? I hate it when my siblings hug me, do you really think I'll let a stranger touch me?"
He stands from the couch, shaking his head "Thanks for the thought but I don't—", before he can finish the sentence, Max stops him by putting the coupon back in his hands,
"You don't have to go, but we think this could really help you. If you can't even hold hands with the person you will be paired with, maybe they'll be able to help you accept that it's okay to not like people's touches".
Lando looks down at the piece of paper and sighs "Maybe you're right, and maybe not. I still think it’s stupid, but I'll think about it.”
🎁🎁🎁
A week went by and Lando had almost forgotten about his Christmas gift, until he got home and, while unpacking his bag, it fell onto the bed, bouncing on his blue duvet.
Lando sits down on the mattress, taking the envelope in his hands and pulling out the card. Turning it between his fingers, he notices that there is something written on the back too... dates.
When he realises that his friends have not only gifted him the five sessions but also made the appointments in advance, all he can do is snort.
His friends know him too well, and they knew that the idea of having to call to book the appointments by himself would hold him back from ever participating, likely even more so than having to actually cuddle a stranger.
Reading over the dates, he realises that the first session is in less than two days. He really needs to think about it, the mere thought of letting someone touch him is repulsive, but maybe his friends and family are right. He needs help, and a professional cuddler may be the only person that can help him overcome whatever is keeping him from enjoying something that everyone else craves so much.
🎁🎁🎁
The first thing Lando notices after entering the building is that it looks almost like the waiting room of a doctor's office. White walls, a few plants scattered among the shelves, the usual smell of sanitizer, and a lady in her fifties with a very bizarre pair of glasses behind the front desk.
“Hello dear, how may I help you?” she asks in a sweet voice. Lando is still unsure and his thoughts are all over the place, so he only hands her the gift card.
The second thing he notices is a small blackboard with You are about to get hugged in capital letters written on it and some random doodles scattered all around. He doesn’t realise he is frozen on the spot, looking at the sign with wide eyes and shortness of breath, until something else catches his attention. Or rather… someone else.
A man, who looks only a few years older than him, inserts himself between Lando and the blackboard, managing to break Lando’s moment of panic.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hug you or even touch you without your consent," the warm and comforting voice of the other man finally calms Lando’s spiralling thoughts.
"I'm Carlos, and I'll be your professional cuddler for the next five weeks. Follow me, we'll talk for a bit. Would you like some tea?" Carlos asks, entering a door that Lando hadn't even noticed and inviting him in.
Lando follows him, closing the door behind his back and murmuring a soft "Yes, thank you.”
Carlos is filling the kettle and rummaging around the huge selection of teas on the coffee table, and Lando takes a few seconds to survey the room.
The ambiance in the room is completely different from the one outside. The white walls have a soft light blue hue. The sterile smell is overpowered by something sweet and spicy that reminds him of summer holidays, of warm and cosy, and of fabric softeners, all of which manage to calm Lando's nerves, little by little.
There is a large bed in the corner of the room, filled with pillows of all shapes and sizes. The blanket appears soft even from a handful of steps away, and looks like something Lando probably needs in his own home for the cold nights he spends watching Netflix or playing with his Playstation alone on the couch.
Carlos rouses him from his thoughts by passing him one of the two cups in his hands.
"Come on, take off your shoes and make yourself comfortable, then let's go sit down, so I can explain to you how it work,” he says, before sitting on the edge of the bed and patting the mattress while Lando takes off his shoes and places his jacket, scarf and beanie on the chair near the entrance.
"Are you comfortable with both of us being seated on the same bed, or would you prefer for me to use the armchair?" Carlos asks, as Lando approaches the bed.
He pulls the sleeves of the hoodie he is wearing over his fingers, and nervously plays with them as he weighs out his options. Overall, the bed is large enough for both of them to sit far apart, the armchair would be a tad uncomfortable and far away, and they have to talk so it wouldn’t make sense for him to be sat on the opposite side of the room. Plus, the other man reassured him several times that he would not touch him without his consent, and Lando feels like he can trust him.
With a small shake of his head, Lando sits on the edge of the mattress, still keeping a safe distance from the other man but angling his body in his direction.
“No, it’s ok,” he says, keeping his eyes trained on the steam as it rises rom the cup in his hands, watching it curling in the hair until it dissolves.
“Perfect.” Carlos says, putting his cup down and picking up a stack of paper from the coffee table.
“Before every first session with a new client, there are always a couple of thing I like and need to do,” he passes the papers to Lando who starts to skim over them while Carlos keeps talking, “this is a written agreement on what we are going to do and the code of conduct that is basically a bunch of rules for both mine and your personal safety.”
Lando listens to Carlos while reading through some of the highlighted sentences “We both understand that there is nothing sexual in what we are going to do. Consent from both parties is necessary and will be established several times during the session, touch is not mandatory until both parties are comfortable with it”.
Lando takes the pen on the coffee table to sign the agreement, and puts everything back down on it before moving his eyes to the face of the other man, who is continuing to explain in detail every rule and device to make everything more personal and safe for everyone.
Lando starts to think that maybe, just maybe, the experience won't be that unpleasant. Maybe it will take him a while to not be uncomfortable next to the other man, maybe he will still have a hard time relaxing, and maybe the idea of spooning with someone else is still something he can't envision himself doing. But Carlos makes him feel safer than any other person he has had to share his body with, and that's a big first step towards a comfortable cuddle.