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“Hurry up and get a drive.”
Daniel blinked before rubbing his eyes. It was late; he wasn’t sure exactly what time but it was dark outside. Two tall lamps softly lit the inside of his Monaco apartment. In the background the film he was forcing himself to stay up and watch to counter the post-Australia jetlag continued on the television, barely audible. Cool air crept through the open front door, barely blocked by the shape of his visitor, and goosebumps began to appear on his bare arms.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Lando brushed past him, allowing Daniel to close the door, following behind into the living room. He found Lando stood next to the coffee table, strewn with empty glasses next to a half eaten bag of sweet popcorn and his mobile phone. The blanket he’d been using lay strewn on the floor, hastily abandoned when he’d heard the knock on his door a moment before.
“Lando, what… what are you doing here?”
To Daniel, the comfy joggers and crumpled sweater - Enchanté, he noticed - looked like one of the outfits Lando kept for long haul flights. Messy curls provided further evidence that he may have recently spent some significant time airborne. Daniel had only arrived back from the race himself a few hours ago.
They hadn’t had much of an opportunity to catch up at the weekend; Red Bull had kept him busy with media commitments. The perks of being the ‘hometown hero’. Daniel had hoped to see more of Lando, and some of the other drivers, at his first grand prix of the season but beyond a quick ‘how are you?’ hug in the driver’s briefing, it seemed every minute of his day had been accounted for. There had been lots of ‘we should really catch up’ text messages, but none came to fruition.
“I need you to hurry up and get a seat.”
Daniel smiled, shaking his head and trying to keep any hint of sadness at bay. “It’s not quite that simple, buddy bear, you know tha…”
His sentence was abruptly halted as Lando closed the small space between them, wrapping his arms around Daniel’s waist, burying his face in Daniel’s neck. Closing his eyes, Daniel brought his arms around Lando, resting a hand in his hair. Warmth spread throughout him, the content feeling he got from having Lando occupying - no, taking up residence, in his personal space. It felt more like home than the Monaco apartment he had spent months decorating, more familiar even than the Australian farm he had spent years cultivating. Whatever simmered beneath the surface between himself and Lando - that thing they never talked or did anything about - he didn’t want to put a name to it. Whatever they had spent the last four years carefully testing out and moulding was something special that he didn’t want to damage or break by questioning it. Instead, just as always, he accepted whatever Lando gave and hoped what he returned was enough.
“I miss you.”