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It isn’t how Daniel had pictured this whole situation happening - and he had definitely pictured it many, many times - and yet he also wouldn’t change it.
It was shortly after their frankly terrible attempt at making crepes for a McLaren social media post, apologising to catering for their mess, that Daniel wondered what it might be like to actually cook a meal with Lando. Standing in his kitchen in Monaco, or preferably Australia. Side by side, getting in and out of each other’s way. It would probably be chaos, and something would definitely get burned or broken, but a warm sensation rippled through him at the idea.
That feeling was promptly extinguished, however, as he spotted the chocolate pot being cleared away; the one that he had spontaneously used to pour melted chocolate in Lando’s mouth, before calling it romantic, which had all been caught on camera. An uncomfortable ache, a sense of dread that his ridiculous fondness - absolutely not a crush - had been exposed and he would be called out for it, settled in his chest until the end of the day. When no one mentioned it he figured he was home free. Lando had seemed happy to play along, close to choking on laughter and face red, so no harm done.
It was another scorching race in the humidity of Singapore when first Daniel considered taking Lando fishing. They were stood in neighbouring ice baths post-race, the relative europhoria - relief, in Daniel’s case - of a solid team performance still flowing in his veins. The cold water around him was soothing his tired, aching muscles; it reminded Daniel of the streams and shallow rivers near his home, great for fishing to calm the mind, or paddling and messing around in to forget your worries and feel young again. Closing his eyes, he could picture the hills in the distance, smell the grasses and trees. Hear the familiar ripple of water as it tumbled steadily over rocks.
“What?”
Daniel snapped out of his thoughts, a questioning look sent in Lando’s direction.
“What are you smiling about?”
An opening, an opportunity. He could easily extend an open invitation, no strings attached. Throw caution to the wind, because why not: It’s not like they’ll be team-mates much longer.
“Nothing.”
It was a predictably hot day in Austin and they were filming a predictably cheesy, stereotypical American sketch for the team, when the idea of sitting with Lando to watch football came to mind. With the obvious racing exceptions, they had never attended a sporting event together as friends. No doubt, given his European heritage he would have no idea about American football - Daniel confirmed this in conversation between their ridiculous games - but he would be more than happy to explain the rules. If he could get him to a Bills game even better. Beyond racing, Daniel knew they didn’t share a huge number of hobbies, but maybe Lando would be open to trying something new. Maybe more than just football.
It was during his extended break from racing, back home in Australia when Daniel thought about what it might be like to have Lando there with him. Sure, they’d been at the Australian Grand Prix together several times, but this was different. This was Daniel’s home .
Sitting next to a campfire the Western Australia tourist production team had set up for a scene, Daniel watched the sun dip below the horizon. The sky darkened through a range of stunning colours to reveal the myriad of stars above. Even in his most chaotic moments, he found the tranquillity of the night sky a blessing. He wondered if Lando had ever done something similar, or if it would have the same effect on him. What it might be like to sit next to Lando under the stars and just be .
He has it all, at this very moment, thanks to a text message just five days ago. A flight arrived from Bali two days ago. Now, illuminated by the light from the fire and highlighted by the stellar backdrop, Lando sits next to him on the carved log, head resting on Daniel’s shoulder. It’s the quietest Daniel’s ever known him to be.
Yesterday they had taken the dirtbikes out, Daniel giving Lando a crash course on his homemade track (he may have watched a little too closely as Lando - shirtless - had laughed and whooped his way over the ramps and jumps) before they explored the outer reaches of the farm. They had shared a bowl of nachos and several bottles of beer while watching a football game on television, Daniel doing his best not to ruin it by over-explaining the rules and tactics. By the end, Daniel’s apparently infectious enthusiasm had rubbed off and Lando was on board, even if he still wasn’t entirely sure what was happening.
This morning they cooked breakfast together; Lando had insisted on doing most of the work, though eggs and toast was nothing particularly complicated or extravagant. Daniel had watched him move around the kitchen with relative ease, t-shirt riding up as he stretched to reach the glasses on the top shelf of the cupboard. They had gone to the river; Lando hadn’t shown much interest in fishing, preferring to sit on its shallow edge to get cool in the hot summer sun. Daniel had splashed water over him, until Lando, face scrunched up in laughter the way Daniel didn’t see enough of, dragged him into the relatively freezing water. Afterwards, they had lain next to each other, shirts spread out on the grass to dry in the afternoon heat, easy, intermittent conversation about nothing of any consequence. Daniel had snuck more than one glance across to watch the final droplets of water trail down Lando’s side, over his ribs to the ground below.
It is everything Daniel had imagined, but not quite. Because he isn’t sure what exactly it all is.
“Why did you come here?” It’s a simple, spontaneous question. Technically he knows that answer: Lando was having a less-than wonderful time in Bali. He wanted a change. That’s what he had told Daniel.
Lando doesn’t look at Daniel, either focusing on his outstretched legs, or the log fire beyond which continues to crackle, sending an occasional harmless spark in their direction. Daniel feels rather sees the subtle shift, a slight tensing of Lando’s muscles next to him.
“I wanted to see you.” It’s a quiet response, barely breaking the silence of the Australian night. Lando begins picking at his fingernails and, on impulse, Daniel takes a hand in his to stop him. There’s no resistance. Resting their hands on his bare knee, a dull ache swells in Daniel’s chest. If he could bottle this moment - just the two of them, no noise, no silliness, no god awful cameras - he thinks he could survive on it, on this feeling forever. He’d keep it tucked away in a pocket right next to his heart.
It’s at that moment he realises he no longer has a crush on Lando. He’s completely gone.
A foot tentatively nudges his: “I missed you.”
“I missed you.” A hand reached across the small space between the airplane seats to get his attention and Lando leaned across to close the gap. Daniel smiled at him; not the same grin he had on display in the numerous photos they had just taken, but the one he saved for Lando. Not that anyone, in particular Lando, had noticed. He hadn’t realised it himself for the longest time.
“Missed you too, buddy bear,” he replied, admiring the ever-expanding collection of bracelets adorning Lando’s wrist. An expression of the many sides to Lando Norris that people did, and did not see. One in particular caught Daniel’s eye and he moved the beads around to see the symbols inscribed on their surfaces. LN4. He repeated the same process with another, unfamiliar set of beads, twirling and twisting the various shapes and colours of plastic. Glancing up from his examination of the third or fourth bracelet he found Lando watching him intently, watching how Daniel’s fingers slid across the smooth skin of his wrist each time he moved the jewellery. Heat rose under Daniel’s skin as he realised how his fingers lingered delicately, the soft touch almost intimate.
“Excuse me gentlemen. We are about to begin our descent into Budapest, please prepare for landing.”
The fire crackles, its heat unnecessary in the warm night and somewhere in the distance, in the dark, insects squeak and chirp. None of it prevents the shiver as Lando cautiously slides his hand from Daniel’s, leaving it resting on his thigh. Tanned skin covers his tattoos and Daniel could get used to the sight. To the closeness. To the dark curls brushing his cheek and chin, and to shutting out the rest of the world, leaving just the two of them.
“Missed you too, Lando.”
Almost hesitantly, Lando begins tracing the outline of the letters and shapes inscribed on Daniel’s skin. It’s lazy, unhurried, unlike the increasing rate of Daniel’s heart. He doesn’t dare to move an inch, for fear of ruining the moment, but he would like nothing more than to wrap an arm around Lando, pull him even closer and…Daniel focuses on keeping his leg relaxed. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment.
Delicate isn’t a word Daniel would associate with Lando, but it’s the only word he can think of to describe Lando’s touch. Fingertips trace the lines of the ship’s hull, its sails until they reach the edge of his shorts, where Lando pauses. Daniel holds his breath. Maybe it’s all in his truly frazzled mind but it feels like he is - they are - on the edge of something , like all it would take is for one of them to make a decision, take a leap of faith and see what happens.
Daniel doesn’t know whether seeing or feeling the subtle push against the hem of his shorts is more torturous. Watching fingers briefly, deliberately following lines of his tattoo higher, exposing more of his skin sends sparks throughout his body. His own fingers twitch, and he realises he’s digging his nails into his palms. Any attempt to relax at this point is redundant. The effort to remain still, too great.
He tries to subtly adjust his position on the log - it’s not the most comfortable, he’s finally realising - which causes two things. First, Lando quickly snatches his hand away like he has been burned, or caught in the cookie jar. Second, Daniel is able to see the concern in Lando’s expression as he sits upright. It’s not quite ‘rabbit in the headlights’ but he definitely looks guilty. There’s a lot going on behind those dark eyes, behind the reflections of flickering flames. Daniel nearly defaults to their usual banter - his defence mechanism - but holds it back.
“It’s late,” Lando mumbles as he gets to his feet, dusting off his trousers before heading back towards the house. Away from the edge, Daniel thinks, as he watches Lando retreating back to safety.
Everything he wants, seemingly - maybe? - right there for the taking. Or is it his imagination? Wishful thinking connecting dots that shouldn’t be joined. “Fuck,” Daniel sighs heavily, extinguishing the fire.
Daniel finds him in the kitchen, hastily finishing off a glass of water.
“Hey.”
“It’s late.” Lando repeats, setting the empty glass in the sink, avoiding any hint of eye contact. Daniel’s heart clenches, his mouth drying rapidly.
“Lando, what…”
Head down, Lando tries to edge past Daniel and out of the kitchen. In his mind, that precipice they may have peered over moments ago is becoming further away.
Daniel grabs Lando’s wrist; “Lando. Wait.” A firm tug and Lando reluctantly turns to face him. Cheeks flushed, Lando bites his lip, still unable to look at Daniel.
“Lando, what’s going on?” Lando’s gaze darts around the room, whether he’s looking for answers or an escape, Daniel isn’t sure. For fear it’s the latter, Daniel keeps his grip on Lando, though releasing the pressure slightly. Seconds creep by, mounting slowly and Daniel’s concern grows that Lando is completely shutting down. That there’ll be no resolution to this.
“Daniel, I…I don’t know,” he whispers. The tremble in his voice creates the tiniest of cracks in Daniel’s heart. “I mean, I know but I don’t. Because it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make any fucking sense and it’s ridiculous.” Daniel watches the wave of emotions evident on Lando’s face, fighting the urge to pull him into his embrace and never let go.
“I want…I mean, I, like…,” he sighs, “it’s your fucking fault.” He chooses now as his moment to finally look Daniel in the eye. Not angry or confrontational, but frustrated. Confused. “I had everything figured out and then you rock up with your…your stupid grin, being all charming and easy going and flirtatious. Then I don’t know what to think any more. I don’t know what to do with all that. I’m not sure who I am or what I want. And it’s your fucking fault Daniel.”
Daniel pulls Lando to him, wrapping his arms around the fractionally smaller man. They’ve hugged before, countless times, but this is different. He rests a hand at the base of Lando’s neck, rubbing gentle circles. Feels warm, if slightly shaking arms around his waist, hands clinging to him. Chest pressed tightly to chest, Daniel imagines he can feel Lando’s heartbeat, though it’s probably his own doing overtime.
There he waits. Until his own heart settles, just a little - let’s face it, it won’t be going back to normal any time soon. Until the grip on his sides eases and he feels Lando relax against him. Until he feels like he can put a little space between them, without it opening into a chasm that neither man will risk crossing.
Bringing a hand to Lando’s cheek (and resisting the urge to stroke a thumb across the stubble on his chin), Daniel encourages him to meet his gaze again.
“You trust me, right?” Lando nods. “Tell me what you want.”
Daniel’s peering over the edge of the precipice once more. Each second of silence feels like he’s leaning further and further; the only thing keeping him from falling is the pressure of the hands on his sides, sliding purposefully around to the base of his spine.
“You.”
There it is. Over he goes. Over they go. There’s no going back now, and frankly, Daniel couldn’t care less.
Impulsive by nature, it shouldn’t be surprising to Daniel that Lando is the one to lean in, to brush his lips cautiously across Daniel’s. Later, Daniel will probably claim that he was caught unaware, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s too busy cataloguing each and every moment, every sensation. Lando pulling their bodies flush together, the heat between them almost overwhelming. Lando’s lips against his, gentle at first before gaining confidence, exploring further. Daniel remembers what it’s like to finally get what you have been craving for so long; the eagerness to take take take. It’s so tempting to just give in to the request, to give Lando everything he seemingly wants but experience tells Daniel that they need to give this development time to settle.
Reluctantly breaking their kiss, Daniel rests his forehead against Lando’s. He gives in to his earlier temptation and swipes slowly across Lando’s chin, back across his lower lip. Again, just because he can now.
“It really is late.”
“I know.”
“What time’s your flight tomorrow?”
“Around dinner.”
“We’ll need to leave just after breakfast to get there in time.”
Lando nods, taking Daniel’s hand in his and entwining their fingers.
“You could stay longer, if you want.”
Lando smiles, a hint of sadness. “Work.”
Daniel nods: “Yeah.” It’s not going to be easy, he knows that. There’ll be travel and racing and meetings and media. There’ll be hours, days spent apart and it will fucking suck. But in between all of that, he’ll have Lando, so it will be worth it.
"Should we, um...talk about this?" Lando asks, his earlier uncertainty sneaking back in.
"It can wait til the morning. I mean, if you're happy to..."
"Yeah." The return of Lando's soft smile is all the reassurance Daniel needs.
“Stay with me tonight?”
Lando looks a little confused until Daniel nods at his bedroom door. It takes a moment - during which Daniel instantly regrets everything he’s said and done in the past twenty minutes - before a grin works its way into Lando’s features.
Lando Norris really can fall asleep anywhere, in seconds. Daniel curls in behind him, arm around his waist, respectfully resting his hand above the old t-shirt covering Lando’s stomach. He’s committing everything to memory once again; from the slow rise and fall of Lando’s chest to the unusually smokey scent clinging to his hair, remnants of the campfire. To how Lando’s body fits perfectly next to his.
It isn’t how Daniel pictured it happening, but maybe it’s even better.