Set in the Bestie Au but can be read as a standalone
Pairing — Lando Norris x afab!Reader
Summary — Knowing Lando would need a bit of cheeribg up after todays result, you got waffles and something sweets thats got nothing to do with the treat...
Genre — fluff, best friends to lovers
Wordcount — 1.3k
Warnings — language, mclaren startegy, tell me if i missed sumn else
With Spa there was always a certain sense of serenity mixed into the bowl of chaos and unpredictability. Surrounded by green it had a charm most other tracks did not possess and as such, it wasn’t just Oscar’s favorite track, it was also yours.
What you didn’t like as much was watching your best friend now boyfriend plow his way through the field from P13 to P1, just to have the team fuck the strategy again while you were stuck in Ferraris motorhome and have him finish in P7.
An acceptable result given his starting place but disappointing none the less seeing as what could have been.
And judging by the quick look you got onto socials, most of his fans had the same opinion.
You could hear him already talking, could hear his post race debrief McLaren’s Admin would be posting in a bit.
“Expected finish with what we had.” You knew it wasn’t. You also knew that he knew that it wasn’t but that he wouldn’t say anything against the time in that regard. I know he didn’t say that but I wrote this before the debrief video dropped
so it stays
Slipping out of the motorhome once you had made sure Charles was on his way to the press conference after the podium, you hurried towards the waffle stall just around the corner. Maybe one of those could brighten up what you were sure was disappointment settling in his gut.
After a quick flash of your team pass, showing that you were not a fan lost in the paddock you made your way to McLaren’s hospitality.
You nearly stumbled over your own two feet in the process, the waffle almost sent flying and only barely being caught before they actually landed on the floor.
Jarv waved once as you passed him just as you walked inside the Motorhome with ease.
Lando had made sure that, even dressed in red, you always had access to his driver room and that anybody who refused to let you in, would regret it should he find out after someone had stood in your way in canada.
Zak and Andrea had hesitated and it was only because they had known you for so long that they had agreed in the end. And arrangement you were now thankful for when walking past engineers, mechanics and PR and nobody even looked twice at the Ferrari ensemble in their hospitality.
With a knock purely meant to be polite, you pushed open the door.
Lando wasn’t back from media yet, the small room empty still, giving you the chance to put the paperplate down on a little side table.
The obligatory monitor hanging on the wall muted but showing the post race interviews being held in the media pen. Lando was only visible for a few moments and you didn’t hear what he was saying, however the face he made was telling all you needed.
He wasn’t happy. And he wasn’t going to hold back once the team did their own debrief later. Just because he wouldn’t dare put shame on the team in public, didn’t mean that he would hold back once the doors were shut.
The scene switched, a replay of Franco’s double overtake playing before switching to the man himself.
With a sigh you fell into the couch cushions and pulled your legs up so it was propped up on the pollster.
The cream on your waffle melting into the chocolate sauce a bit by now and you dipped you finger into the white goodness, licking it off just as the door swung open and revealing Lando. His hair was sweat soaked and sticking up where it wasn’t stuck to his neck and forehead.
“Hi,” you hummed and reached your hand out for him to come to you. The champion hadn’t expected to find you in his driver room, at least not yet but he wouldn’t complain.
Instead he followed your beckoning, his much bigger hand taking yours, thumb stroking over the back of it gently to lean down.
You had already expected him to lean down and so you met his lips halfway. The kiss wasn’t soft or long for that matter, instead it was a simply press against your mouth in which he let his eyes flutter shut for a moment before inhaling long and pulling back. It was as if the scent of your perfume let all the rest tension bleed right out of his shoulders.
“Hi…” he repeated and rolled onto the tiny couch. His legs hung over the side almost completely but he still rested his head in your lap.
You ran your fingers through his messy curls, the gesture so familiar after years of friendship that it still felt almost a bit weird that you were allowed to call him yours now.
“Waffle?” you asked simply. Without waitibg for an answer, you tore a chocolate sauce covered piece off and offered it to him.
Lando opened his mouth, letting himself be fed like a child.
“You are a godsend, my love,” he said and the room fell silent as you tore another piece off.
“You were incredible today, you know that right?” you mumbled and his eyes flickered up to yours, the usual doubt already trying to creep in despite the comeback he had just pulled off.
Lando sighed, turning his head slightly so his cheek rested against your palm as he admitted, “It just sucks, you know cause I could have easily gotten a podium. The pace was there for the first time this year but no! Of course I get fucked again…”
“And I applaud your ability to keep cool and not bitch at Will on the radio.”
Your boyfriend snorted once at that.
“What difference would it make? It wouldn’t change the fucked up stop, or the fact that I was out way to long…”
“Or the penalty!” You threw in.
“Or the penalty!” he agreed with a laugh and watched as you popped the next piece into your mouth, cream somehow getting stuck on your nose in the process.
Lando reached up, wiping the little smear of cream from your nose with his thumb before stealing the piece of waffle from your fingers with a small, amused smile.
He chewed slowly, eyes never quite leaving your face as if he was trying to replace every frustrating moment of the afternoon with the far simpler reality of you sitting in front of him, feeding him waffles in a cramped driver room.
“Thanks for coming over,” he murmured quietly, voice softer now, “I know you’re meant to be celebrating with Charles.”
You shrugged, Scratching your nails over his scalp until his eyes fluttered shut again.
“Charles has a trophy, you’ve got me and Belgian waffles. I’d say we’re both doing alright,” you teased and took a strawberry, dipped it into the whipped cream and ate it.
Lando’s tired smile softened into something impossibly fond before he reached for your free hand, lacing your fingers together for a brief second, ignoring the stickiness of the chocolate sauce.
He turned it over carefully, pressing a lingering kiss against your knuckles, his lips warm against your skin as his thumb traced absent circles over the back of your hand. “Definitely the better deal,” he murmured with a quiet grin that mad your ears burn.
“Such a sap, you are!” You waved him off, looking at the monitor where Carlos was shown to hopefully avoid him noticing what effect his words had on you.
“Oi” he murmured, gently catching your chin between his fingers and turning your face back towards him until you had no choice but to meet his eyes.
“I love you,” he said quietly, like it was the easiest thibg to say.
And despite knowing it already, your heart still stumbled because this was the first time one of you actually said it out loud and there really was only one thing to say.
On another note, WHYYY do we believe lewis gets a penalty for hittibg that team member? He had green and the guy was not suppossed to stand there in the first place but should have backed off
kianamaiart
germansingergirl
origamiaround
titsay