Chapter Text
Chapter One — He’ll Edit It Out
Max had been live for forty-three minutes when his boyfriend accidentally announced to the world that they lived together.
Neither of them noticed.
That was probably the worst part.
There was no dramatic moment.
No kiss.
No accidental babe.
No declaration of love caught by a microphone.
There was just Lando.
Max was halfway through whatever point he'd been making, headphones firmly over his ears, attention split between his screen and chat.
“So then I told him that's not how it works, but obviously he doesn't listen to me because—”
The bedroom door opened behind him.
Chat noticed first.
LANDO???
wait is that lando
LANDO CAMEO
Max didn't.
Lando walked into frame.
He'd showered approximately three minutes earlier.
His hair was wet.
He was wearing a pair of shorts.
And absolutely nothing else.
Chat stopped caring about Max's story.
HELLO????
WHY IS HE NAKED
SHIRT?????
MAX TURN AROUND
WHY IS LANDO NORRIS HALF DRESSED IN YOUR HOUSE
Lando glanced toward Max.
Saw the camera.
Paused.
Not because he was concerned.
Just because he'd remembered Max had said he was recording something.
“You doing a video?”
Max barely looked away from his monitor.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
And that—
later—
would be identified as Mistake Number One.
Because Lando knew there was a camera.
And continued anyway.
He crossed the room.
Straight to the wardrobe.
Opened it.
Chat went insane.
WHY DOES HE KNOW WHERE THE WARDROBE IS
HELLO????
THAT'S MAX'S WARDROBE
WHY IS HE IN THE WARDROBE
Lando stared into it.
“Where's the grey one?”
“What?”
“Your grey shirt.”
“Which grey shirt?”
“The nice one.”
“They're all nice.”
“No, they're not.”
“Fuck off.”
Lando started moving hangers.
Not cautiously.
Not like someone searching somebody else's belongings.
Like someone who had done this approximately four hundred times.
He ignored three shirts.
Moved a hoodie.
Opened a drawer.
Max still hadn't turned around.
Chat was becoming increasingly less coherent.
HE OPENED THE DRAWER
HE KNOWS WHICH DRAWER
MAX????
WHY IS LANDO GETTING DRESSED OUT OF YOUR CLOTHES
YOUR GREY SHIRT?????
GUYS
GUYS THEY LIVE TOGETHER
WAIT
WAIT WAIT WAIT
Lando found it.
“There.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
He pulled Max's shirt over his head.
Max finally glanced back.
“That's mine.”
Lando stared at him.
“Yes.”
“You have clothes.”
“Yeah.”
“So wear yours.”
“No.”
Max shrugged.
“Fair.”
Mistake Number Two.
Lando walked over.
He stopped beside Max's chair and looked at the monitor, although from the angle he couldn't see chat.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to explain something to people who don't listen.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“Go away.”
Lando reached down.
Picked up Max's glass.
Drank from it.
Put it back.
Max didn't even blink.
HE JUST DRANK HIS DRINK
AND MAX DIDN'T REACT
OH MY GOD
THE SHIRT
THE SHOWER
THE BEDROOM
THE DRAWER
THEY FUCKING LIVE TOGETHER
HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN HAPPENING
Lando absently ran his fingers through Max's hair.
Not romantically.
Not deliberately.
He just pushed a bit down where Max's headphones had made it stick up.
“There.”
Max batted his hand away.
“Stop.”
“You looked stupid.”
“I always look stupid.”
“True.”
Lando wandered away.
“I'm ordering food.”
“Get mine.”
“I know.”
Mistake Number Three.
Possibly the fatal one.
Max continued talking.
Lando disappeared through the same door he'd emerged from.
Chat—
lost.
Its.
Mind.
Max lasted another thirty seconds before he finally noticed.
Not because of the messages.
Because the viewer count had almost doubled.
He frowned.
“What happened?”
That only made it worse.
WHAT HAPPENED????
MAX
MAX FEWTRELL
YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS
WHERE DOES LANDO LIVE
MAX WHERE DOES LANDO LIVE
WHY DID HE COME OUT OF YOUR BEDROOM HALF NAKED
Max read that one.
His brain stopped.
His eyes moved slowly toward the open doorway.
Then back to chat.
Then toward the little red symbol in the corner of his screen.
LIVE
Max went completely still.
“Oh.”
Chat accelerated.
Max pulled one side of his headphones away from his ear.
“Lando?”
From somewhere down the hall:
“WHAT?”
“Come here a sec.”
“WHY?”
“Just—come here.”
Footsteps.
Lando reappeared.
Still wearing Max's shirt.
“What?”
Max pointed at the screen.
Lando leaned down.
Read.
His expression didn't change initially.
Then his eyes flicked toward the corner.
The red symbol.
LIVE.
Lando straightened.
“You said you were doing a video.”
“I said I was streaming.”
“No, you didn't.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You absolutely said video.”
“I said stream.”
“You mumbled!”
“You weren't listening!”
“I'd just got out the shower!”
Max stared at him.
Lando stared back.
Slowly, both looked at the camera.
Chat was flying.
OH MY GOD THEY DIDN'T KNOW
HE THOUGHT IT WAS A VIDEO
THEY'RE PANICKING
LANDO LIVES THERE CONFIRMED
WHY IS HE STILL WEARING MAX'S SHIRT
THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE
SOMEONE RECORD EVERYTHING
Lando whispered, “Can you delete a live?”
Max stared at him.
“No.”
“Oh.”
“And people clip things.”
“Oh.”
“And screen-record.”
“Oh.”
“And there are currently eighty-seven thousand people here.”
Lando's eyes widened.
“Oh.”
Max slowly covered his face.
For several seconds there was silence.
Then Lando started laughing.
“You've just accidentally told everyone we live together.”
Max's hands dropped.
“I've told everyone?!”
“Your stream.”
“Your tits!”
Lando looked down.
“They weren't out!”
“You walked through here without a shirt!”
“That's not tits!”
“That's not the fucking point!”
Lando was laughing too hard to answer.
Max turned back toward the monitor.
And made the catastrophic mistake of reading chat again.
YOUR STREAM YOUR TITS 😭
NEW MERCH IMMEDIATELY
HE CAME OUT OF THE SHOWER
THEY SHARE CLOTHES
HE KNOWS MAX'S FOOD ORDER
THEY LIVE TOGETHER
THIS WAS NOT ON MY 2026 BINGO CARD
Then Max saw one message that made his stomach drop.
twitter already has the clip
“Oh, fuck.”
Lando stopped laughing.
“What?”
“Twitter.”
Lando pulled out his phone.
Opened it.
Paused.
“Oh.”
Max didn't need to ask.
Lando slowly turned the screen.
The first video already had hundreds of thousands of views.
It started with Lando walking into frame shirtless.
It ended with:
I'm ordering food.
Get mine.
I know.
Above it:
lando norris just casually emerging half naked from max fewtrell's bedroom, putting on max's clothes and knowing his food order while max doesn't react AT ALL???? HELLO????
Lando scrolled.
Another post.
Forget dating. Those men have a JOINT ELECTRICITY BILL.
Max snorted.
He tried not to.
Failed.
Lando scrolled again.
Everyone spent years asking if Max Fewtrell and Lando Norris were together and apparently the answer was worse: they're DOMESTIC.
That broke them.
Max folded forward laughing.
Lando dropped onto the arm of his chair, nearly falling off because he was laughing too.
The stream watched all of it.
Eventually Max managed, “What do we do?”
Lando wiped his eyes.
“I don't know.”
“Do we deny it?”
Lando looked around.
At the home they'd shared for nearly a year.
At his shoes beside Max's desk.
At his jacket hanging over the chair.
At the shirt he was currently wearing.
At the bedroom he'd just walked out of half-dressed.
Then at the eighty-seven thousand people who had just witnessed all of it.
“Bit late.”
“Could say you're staying over.”
“My sim's literally in the other room.”
“They don't know that.”
“My helmet's on the shelf behind you.”
Max turned.
There it was.
He closed his eyes.
“For fuck's sake.”
“And I think my keys are there.”
They were.
Beside Max's.
On the little dish they'd bought specifically because Lando kept losing his.
Max looked back at him.
“So we're fucked.”
“Pretty much.”
Another notification appeared on Lando's phone.
Then another.
Then another.
Lando glanced down.
Oscar: lol
A second message.
Oscar: finally
Then:
Oscar: do you know how difficult it has been pretending you don't live together
Max stared.
Lando stared.
Another message appeared.
Oscar: also mclaren pr would like to know why you are half naked on max's livestream
Lando locked his phone.
“Nope.”
Max burst out laughing again.
“What?”
“No. That's tomorrow's problem.”
“It's definitely today's problem.”
“No.”
“Your media manager is probably calling you.”
“My phone's going on silent.”
“You can't just—”
Lando leaned over.
And turned Max's stream off.
The screen disappeared.
Silence.
Max stared at the blank monitor.
“You just ended my stream.”
“Yep.”
“Without saying goodbye.”
“Think we said enough.”
Max looked at him.
Lando looked back.
Then both their phones started vibrating.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Max picked his up.
Opened Twitter.
His eyes widened.
“Lan.”
“No.”
“Number four trending.”
“No.”
“Worldwide.”
“Max.”
“‘Lando and Max.’”
“Put the phone away.”
Max refreshed.
His eyebrows rose.
“Number two.”
“PUT IT AWAY.”
Max was laughing again.
Lando grabbed the phone from him and threw it onto the sofa.
For a second they just stood there.
Their quiet little relationship—
their shared home—
their completely ordinary domestic life—
was currently detonating across the internet.
Lando looked down at Max's shirt.
Then toward the camera.
Then at Max.
“Oops?”
Max stared at him.
“Yeah.”
He started laughing again.
“Oops, the world knows.”