landopoet @landopoet - Tumblr Blog

Jul 20

LN1: hidden embers

pairing firefighter!lando norris x paramedic!reader

warnings non-f1 au; firefighters, romance, hurt/comfort, friends-to-lovers, secret relationship, smut (oral f receiving). Oscar and Max Fewtrell are victims of their stupidity, pet names, minimal use of y/n, injuries related to fire.

word count 13.1k

authors note we are so incredibly back!! this all started because of a fan art I saw on tiktok and a binge-watch of 8 seasons of chicago fire. A heartfelt thank-you to @landojournal & @landopoet for all your support on this one, love you too bad! let me know in my inbox if you would like to see more of these two because i've fallen in love with them. As always enjoy, lots of love, clove! 🍀

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For the first time in a blue moon, the firehouse was quiet while you stood in it.

Naturally, you rarely stood still since you set foot in Station 41 almost five years ago now. Paramedics were needed for anything up to a gut feeling nowadays.

It was an interesting job, but you loved it. The unpredictability of what awaited you once you walked in every shift made your brain itch for more.

Your mom always said you were an adrenaline junkie; when you told her you were accepted into the fire academy for the paramedic path at the age of 20, she just chuckled and said: “That’s my girl”.

When you told her you were promoted to paramedic in charge at a station known for its rescues, she almost threw a party.

You were in the middle of taking nightly inventory of your ambulance when the trucks pulled in, the smell of soot lingering as the garage doors descended behind them and twelve brute men began to file out, boots thudding against the garage pavement followed by the routine shedding of their fire gear.

You can usually tell how a call went based on the body language of your truck boys; a helpful tool you have acquired from spending hundreds of hours with them. It was calm, almost as if everything was soon to click into place.

The last pair of boots hit the ground, and the door to the passenger side slams as Lieutenant Lando Norris hops from his seat in the front. Freshly promoted and smiling as if he didn't just help a family of four out of a small kitchen fire.

Lando transferred to the station around the same time as you. Eyes full of light and his curls just barely peeking through a backwards baseball cap. The two of you have grown close over the years, watching as firemen pass through, some cracking under the weight of the job, and some moving on to other things completely. You have gone through almost 5 partners yourself, the one thing that has remained consistent was Lando.

The day he was promoted to lieutenant, you were the first to congratulate him, throwing your arms around him as the rest of the station applauded their fellow fireman's well-deserved promotion. Overwhelmed with emotions, he held you tight as you whispered praise in his ear, about how this was a long time coming.

Somewhere between then and now, you realized you saw him more than a friend. The spark you felt when his hands brushed yours during meals pushed to the forefront of your mind. Hours spent analyzing every freckle on his face, as if you could solve him like a puzzle, yet every time you got close enough, the sparkle in his ocean eyes pulled you away from focus.

You tried to fight your crush, but he made it so hard; After every call, he’d offer to make you a grilled cheese because you mentioned it was your favourite meal growing up.

A knock on the metal exterior of the ambulance shook you back to the present. Lando stood below you in the garage, his face slightly char stained but smile still warm.

“Hey,“ you greeted, “how was the call?” Abandoning your clipboard, you invite him into the shop.

He took a step inside, running a hand through his curls as he sat across from you. “Good, uh–“ He looked nervous, but you couldn’t place why. “Just a small grease fire, no major injuries or damage, quick in and out.” He listed as if, instead of casually talking to you, he was speaking with captain Zac Brown.

“Why do you sound upset about this?”

“I’m not,” his voice squeaked at the end of his sentence. He was lying. You squint at him, “Lando, you’re picking your fingers like you did when Zac called on you in roll call. What's up?” You push, hoping he’ll crack.

He sits on his hands, chuckling through a breath before he answers you. “Fewtrell is having a barbecue at the end of shift, he wanted me to invite you and Lily.”

Ah yes, you should’ve known Fewtrell and Piastri had sent him to do their errands. Max Fewtrell and Oscar Piastri were Lando's closest mates on shift, the three grew up on the same street and now neighboured just down the road from where you and your roommate (also known as Oscar's girlfriend) Lily reside.

“Yeah of course! Is there anything I can bring?” you replied, slightly taken aback this was what he was cautious over.

He smiles softly shaking his head, “nope, just yourself”

Your stomach seemed to forget you were chatting with lando, and not about to drop into a rollercoaster.

“And Lily, of course. Oscar will kill us if not.” He adds and you suddenly remember you're not supposed to feel like this about your best friend.

“No, yeah– definitely,” you respond quickly, forcing a laugh to hide the awkwardness that has undoubtedly formed. To try and look busy, you pick up your clipboard, double checking the already triple checked numbers before the familiar sound of the dispatcher crackles through the speakers

Ambulance 81: person injured, 12,725 champion street

Your eyes meet his before you stand, coming back to reality, “duty calls,” you quip with a tight-lipped smile.

He nods, helping you with cleaning before giving you a quick salute, “see you later!”

You smile before your partner joins you in the passenger seat and you flick on the lights and sirens, following where the job takes you.

──── ঌ ────

Your shift had ended an hour ago and you were sitting on Lily's bed while she was runway style showing you potential outfits for the barbecue.

“Oscar will love anything you wear Lily,” you say, after paying no attention to her outfits past the third one she's tried on, after they all became the same pair of jeans with a different top.

“But what if he doesn't!” She counters, studying her outfit in the mirror.

You laugh, resuming your scrolling, “he’ll be too busy helping Max and Lando with the grill.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at the mention of the brunette, “speaking of,” she teases, “have you told him how you're feeling?”

You scrunch your face, “no, of course not.”

She scoffs, flicking a chip at you. “He’s not going to know you like him if you only look at him with those puppy dog eyes.”

You fall back into her duvet with a sigh. You knew this. But you also knew the other factors of a firehouse relationship; the teasing when you walk into a room together, the looming fear that if Captain Brown were to find out you’d both lose your jobs.

“It just wont work, Lils.”

She throws a pair of jean shorts on top of you, “not with that attitude it won’t,” she declares, “now put these on, they make your ass look good.”

You smile gratefully and change, opting to pair the light wash shorts with a grey tank top and a pink striped button up. You were doing your makeup when Lily's phone chimed.

“It's from Oscar, he and Lando are on their way back with drinks and offered to pick us up,” she reads, waiting for you to finish carefully applying your lip combo.

You pretended to think about it for a moment before turning in your chair to look at your roommate, “yeah of course, I’ll just grab the chips from the pantry, they said not to bring anything but I’d feel bad if we show up empty handed.”

The girl let out what you think was a squeal and began frantically typing on her phone, shortly after it chimed again. “They’ll be here in ten!”

It wasn't long before the boys turned up, music blasting from their shared Mercedes like they were fratboys, not firefighters. Lando rolled his window down as you and Lily approached the vehicle.

“Somebody order an uber XL?” He jokes, adjusting his cap that was sat atop his chocolate curls. Oscar was in the driver's seat, eyes fixated on Lily– you made a mental note to applaud her ability to read her boyfriend later.

“You're in my seat, Norris!” she shouts, opening the door from the outside with a playful jab of her thumb over her shoulder while you make your way to the backseat. “Out!”

Lando makes no argument as he joins you in the back, eyeing the chip bag in your hand and shooting you a wink before clapping Oscar's shoulder from behind, making the boy flinch slightly. He laughs and merges back into the road.

Fewtrell was already running the grill like a navy general when the four of you arrived. Pietra, his lovely wife who you’ve become quite close with over the years, welcomes you with open arms.

“Please, somebody assist this mad man.” She sighs when Max can be heard shouting in frustration from the back patio.

You join Lando in making your way to the deck, finding other firefights from your shift including Max, Carlos, and a younger one named Ollie, who was a recent addition to Truck.

While Lando takes Max's side and assesses the burgers you are sure are close to burning, you take a seat in a foldable chair next to Ollie.

“So Ollie, how are you enjoying your first months at the station?” You question, curious about the new boys thoughts on your tight-knit family

He shrugs, taking a swig from his drink. “It's been nice, good city, with great people,” his eyes down your body and rise back up towards your face, a smirk painting over his own, “you know any good places to eat ‘round here?” He smoothly asks.

You know where this is going, new firefighters often will flirt with the paramedics since nine times out of ten they are women, but you never liked to entertain them since your heart was currently occupied by a certain curly haired lieutenant.

Lando’s neck snaps towards you when he hears the question come from Ollie’s mouth. If looks could kill, the boy would’ve been six feet under. His scowl audible while Max’s complaints about the grill not cooking fast enough falls on deaf ears.

“Dude!” The older man forced Lando to pull his ice filled gaze away from you, “I think I’m low on propane. Can you grab me two from the shed?” When Lando groans, Max continues to flip his burgers. “Take y/n with you, she knows where they are,” he offers over his shoulder.

At the faint mention of your name, your attention shifts towards the grill. Lando's eyes meet yours from across the patio, motioning you to join him. You politely excuse yourself from Ollie, the boy holding his drink up in mock cheers to send you off.

The tension is thick when you join the boys at the grill. You assumed that Max was fussing about the hotdog to burger ratio, but were surprised to see Lando's shoulders to be up by his ears.

Max explains the propane situation and you happily agree to assist Lando, since one summer ago you and Pietra needed propane for a wine night firepit, you’ve become an expert in navigating the Fewtrell shed.

The two of you enter the small structure, Lando immediately taking in all the karting equipment that's resided here for years, Pietras told you. A small kid-sized kart with blue and fluorescent yellow accents propped on a rig, wheels surrounding the floor below it.

Your eyes follow the wall, pictures of boys with flushed cheeks and sweaty hair, arms thrown around each other in race suits, an identical set of smiles etched on both their faces. When you look closer, it's almost impossible not to recognize the set of boys.

Your fingers tap the picture lightly, “This you?” You look to the boy who's been occupied with the pedals on the kart. He turns to look over your shoulder, the heat radiating off of his body. You can feel his breath against your ear when he points to the smaller boy in the middle. “Me,” he points to the boy on his left, “Max,” to his right, “Oscar.”

Your heart squeezes, looking at the boy who once considered himself a racer and now races towards flames before they swallow a structure whole.

In a way, firefighting is similar to racing– the calculation before every move, the fear of one slip causing it all to go wrong– these boys risked their safety on track the same way they do whenever they run into a burning building.

“You seemed pretty cozy with the new guy,” Lando says hesitantly, like he's unsure if it came out formed as a joke or ammunition. Your eyes meet his back as he fiddles with a spare part.

Something in your mind told you that this was the proof you needed, that maybe Lily was right and you should just confess right there and then.

But another quiet voice, the one that always wins against the logical part of your brain, was telling you to stop daydreaming. And so, you shrug, "He seemed nice enough. Why? You jealous?”

He whips around to face you, brows knit and eyes wide. “What? psheesh–- no!” He says, too quickly for your heart to slow down, "I'm just saying, he's new and probably just looking to get laid or something,” he shrugs, twisting the small trinket between his fingers, trying to act like this doesn't bother him as much as it does.

Your heart is racing, but you stay composed, crossing your arms before squinting at him. He doesn't get to act this way and get away with it. “Why do you care?”

He scoffs, eyes falling to the part in his hand, “I don't."

You hum, unconvinced. “Alright, then maybe I’ll go out with him, then.”

Lando drops the part and before the loud clang can fully hit your ears he’s in front of you, his face mere inches from yours, so close you can draw constellations between his freckles.

His eyes stare firmly into yours as you meet his gaze with terrifying confidence. His hands are planted on the table behind you, caging you in. “You're not gonna do that” he says low, his pupils dilating, absorbing the watercolour irises.

You tilt your chin up, not backing down. “Well why not, Norris."

His eyes flicker between yours, down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes,exhaling as he contemplates. You lean in slightly, the space between you becoming thinner with every second.

You’re starting to lose your faux confidence, eyes falling to his lips when his tongue darts out to wet them.

The energy between you could light a match, charged with unspoken words and feelings. You could feel his breath on your face, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Do it,” you whisper into the silence of the shed.

He waits about one second before his lips crash into yours. The outside world starts shrinking into the confines of the karting shed, just the two of you, moving in unison.

The kiss was everything you’d hoped it would be, soft but firm, gentle but hungry; Years of pining evident in the way his lips moved against you, his tongue licking yours as the kiss deepened, hands finding your waist while yours tangled between his curls.

You pull apart for air, his forehead falling to rest against yours, breath heavy as you both realize what just happened. Your eyes dart all over the shed, out of embarrassment, or maybe fear, but once you look back up at the curly mess of a man before you, you realise his eyes never left yours.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he says, a little out of breath yet still grinning. You find that hard to believe, “really?” you ask. He nods, “since the first day I walked in and saw you sitting in the ambo bay.”

Your breath catches before you kiss him again, holding his cheeks in your hands. “I've wanted that for ages, Lan,” you say into his lips.

He connects your lips again, kissing you until you're dizzy and breathless. You're not sure how long you were hiding in the shed, which made you want to stay there even longer. You felt like two secondary schoolers, hiding and kissing like it’s forbidden, but with him you didn’t seem to care.

And when Oscar notices the slight flush to both of your faces when you finally return with two full propane tanks, he doesn't say anything and hands you a drink.

──── ঌ ────

It’s been a week since the Fewtrells, when Oscar finds Lando furiously typing on his laptop for a report on the stereotypical cat-in-the-tree rescue from yesterday. He's propped against the door frame, arms crossed against his chest as he watches Lando let out another sigh when the system freezes.

“Y’know, you could just talk to her,” he deadpans.

Lando doesn’t look up; if he does, Oscar will see how exhausted he looks, and he’ll know something is up.

The past week has been hell for Lando. The truck needs a new spare tire, a rookie on the rescue squad just quit, and now you're avoiding him like the plague.

Since the kiss, you’ve hardly spoken to Lando unless the job required you to and he was going insane. Everytime he closed his eyes, he was back in the shed with you, his furious gaze meeting your soft one. Even while you gave him a hard time, he still found your eyes mesmerizing.

Most importantly, however, he missed his friend. The friend he spent downtime with in between calls and sat next to at dinner. All because he couldn't keep his feelings in check. “I don’t need to talk to her,” he lies quickly.

“You’ve been hiding in your quarters like the old man up the street we tell the kids not to trick or treat at,” Oscar replies, seeing right through him.

The curly-haired boy falls back against his chair, letting out a long exhale through his nose and tilting his head back to study the ceiling; there’s still a paper dart from when you took April Fools' Day far too seriously. “Ever since the barbecue, it’s been awkward.”

Oscar raised a brow “How so?”

Lando squeezes his eyes shut, physically bracing for the outcome of what he's about to say. “We kissed in the shed.”

Oscar, the little fucker, just smiles before saying in the most neutral tone humanly possible, “I know”

Now that makes Lando look at him, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. “What do you mean, I know?” He responds in slight disbelief.

“I'm not blind, Lando,” the man just shrugs, “when you came back wearing the same smile as the day you got promoted, it wasn't hard to put two and two together, mate.”

Lando huffs, rubbing his temple to soothe the headache that's forming from the racing of his thoughts. “I don't know, mate, we both know how firehouse relationships work.” He sighs, “what if it doesn't work out?” he adds quieter.

Oscar listens, being an open ear to Lando as he voices his thoughts. It's been like this since their racing days. When Lando had a tricky time correcting a corner, Oscar would listen as they ate pizza and Lando spoke his thoughts aloud, only adding his input when he felt it was needed.

“You would never know unless you talked to her,” he simply says before he's gone and Lando is left alone in his quarters. Later, he's in the kitchen heating up leftover pasta from the first watch. The boys are scattered as it's been a quiet day already, a call here and there for small situations.

You, however, Lando feels like he's hardly seen all shift. And when he did see you, you've barely sat long enough for him to catch you.

It's like the universe is dangling this conversation in front of him on a stick, but just as he gets close enough to grab it, the shrill ring of someone in distress rips you away from him.

He sat on the couch, overalls bunching into his lap as he's crosslegged in front of the TV, scarfing down some food.

The news anchor on the screen blurred in the back of his mind as he played a game you downloaded on his phone years ago, focusing on beating that level, when suddenly, the atmosphere on the small television shifted- something was wrong.

Lando straightened up and set down his game, watching as the bold text on the screen informed the viewers of a motor vehicle accident that caught a child in the crossfire. They explained that the young girl was thrown from her car and knocked unconscious; her condition unknown when responders arrived.

That's when it struck him, like a loud screech in the back of his mind.

Wasn't your last call an unconscious minor?

He waits anxiously for more coverage, waiting to see if he can spot you or your ambulance on scene. “Fuck…” He mumbles to himself as the clips keep rolling, showing more and more angles of the devastating accident. It doesn't look good.

He knew you loved kids; he’s met your nieces and nephews. The way your face lit up when they spoke nonsense to you about their favourite paw patrol character. Lando knew your heart couldn't handle this going sideways.

Just when he thinks it was a coincidence– that maybe somewhere a mother mistook their kid having a nap and you were begrudgingly filling out paperwork– your ambulance is shown screeching to a halt and out jump you and your partner, rushing to the little girl's aid.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees as he watches on. Lando is holding his breath while on-screen you is effortlessly hooking up the monitor, inserting an IV, things he has watched you do over a thousand times, yet feels that this time it weighs heavier– maybe because he hasn’t talked to you, or maybe because you’d barely look at him at the station– he still felt your heart breaking through the screen.

What the camera almost fails to pick up is the light shake in your hands– something you told Lando during a late-night shift– that only rarely happens when your emotions are hitting you at an overwhelming rate. He saw you squeeze your fingers together to try and make it stop, but the news anchor moved on before the camera could catch it.

He sat in silence as the coverage shifted to something much lighter, but Lando couldn't shake the memory of the look on your face, the pure devastation written across your features.

Max had joined him now, sitting next to him in silence as they waited for your return. The firehouse felt still, like a puzzle piece was missing to function properly.

While waiting, Zac found him– the man shaking an authoritative chill down Lando's spine as he mentioned he'd taken the truck and ambulance out of service for a few hours.

The sympathetic look on his face told Lando the reason why. Not that he was complaining; he wanted to be there for you when you came home, regardless of whatever avoidance competition you two were competing in.

What felt like hours was actually half until the familiar sound of the garage doors opening filled his ears. Lando didn't move, not wanting to crowd you; he stayed planted on the couch until he heard the sound of your boots frantically thud past the common room and down the hallway. Your partner entered shortly after, her posture heavy with the events of today. Lando stood, cautious with his words.

“How is the kid?” he asked slowly.

She just sighed, deflating into the chair beneath her, “I'm not sure if she’ll make it, she arrested again on the way to the hospital–”

Lando didn't even let her finish before he was moving. He followed the direction you went, walking with the same urgency he has when the bell goes off. His head is storming with a hurricane of thoughts, but his sole focus is to find you.

After checking everywhere he thought was possible to hide out in, he ended up at the laundry machines, a dead end of the hallway. Right as he turned to begin checking the rooms he just stormed past, he heard a sniffle come from an adjacent door. He threw the door open, and his heart plummeted at the scene before him,

You were sitting on a small cot in a room that he forgot existed and was slightly shocked you knew about. Your knees were pulled to your chest, tears were streaming down your cheeks. The sobs were heartbreaking as you could barely catch your breath.

“Hey, hey–, I'm here,” he whispers as he wraps his arms firmly around you, one hand cupping the back of your head and the other rubbing small circles on your back. “I’ve got you, it's okay”

As the sobs wracked through your body, he never let go. He held you while you cried, gripping his uniform like a lifeline. His chin rested on your head as he rocked you both slightly, reassuring you that he was here; that he was your rock and despite any distance, he was unmoving.

“She was so small,” your wobbly voice spoke through the tears, “she didn't deserve this.” A new wave of sobs shook your body.

Lando just held on tighter, his heart hurting at the state you were in,“you did everything you could, love,” he comforted, “what happened was not your fault.” He kept talking, reassuring you of your efforts while you cried. His fingers combed through your hair as he spoke softly.

Your breathing slowed, the height of it had passed but your tears still fell silently. Lando moved to have you rest your head on his chest while he continued to rub your back, placing kisses to the crown of your head every time a hiccup escaped you.

“I just wish there was something else I could've done,” you murmured, picking at the hem of your sleeve. Lando took your face in his hands. “Look at me,” he said, not firm, but stern enough to get your attention.

Your crystallized eyes met his, his face laced with concern. His hands cradled you like you were the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. “What happened today was not a result of your work,” he assured, wiping a stray tear that escaped. He continued, “you are a brilliant paramedic, and you know you did everything humanly possible to help that girl.”

Your eyes poured into his as he spoke, his hands cupping your face like they were made to do just that. He leaned down to be directly in your eyeline, making sure you were here with him.

“I need you to know that you know that, baby,” he said, the last word fell quieter, but the butterflies in your stomach still fluttered awake as you nodded in his hands.

He gave a hum of acknowledgement before pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You're too beautiful to cry,” he mumbles, more to himself, but you heard it nonetheless. Your eyes flick to his lips; he inhales like he knows what's about to happen. He doesn't stop you from leaning in and slotting your lips against his.

The kiss is soft, slow like a Sunday morning; blooming between you like spring after a harsh winter. The kind that says I'm here, I'm not going anywhere.

This kiss felt different than your first one in the shed, this kiss felt real, grounding, like coming up for fresh air after the waves pushed you under for too long.

You pulled away to catch a breath, lacing your fingers together. You look at Lando, his uniform is ruffled, his lips are puffy and pink, and he looks a little dazed, but he's wearing the brightest smile you've ever seen.

“Sorry– wait,” you chuckle, taking your thumb to wipe the remnants of your lip gloss that had smudged onto his face in the heat of the moment.

He brushes your hand away “No, leave it,” he simply states, “it's fine.”

You're sure that if it wasn't for him holding you up, you would've melted right then and there. You laugh and tap the end of his nose instead, the emotions of today shifting to become much lighter, “you like me,” you tease, drawing the words out to make him playfully scoff before pulling you against his chest and throwing you both against the cot so he lies beneath you.

Your giggles fill the room as he pretends to deny his feelings, but the fact that you can count all 32 of his teeth tells you otherwise.

You stay like that for a while, lying in each other's presence as the station continues to move outside of this room you have found yourselves in. You can feel his heartbeat beneath you, it begins to pick up slightly before he speaks. “I don't want to rush things, but I really like you,” he says, vulnerable, like he's been keeping it in for long enough he didn't know how it would sound coming from his mouth.

You rest your chin on his chest, your gaze meeting him as he stills– waiting for you to respond to the question he convinced himself for years would bring rejection.

The smile that etches onto your face tells him he was wrong in the best way possible.

“I’ve been gone for you since the day you made lieutenant and the first person you looked at was me,” you whisper and the words sit between you for a second, hanging like a declaration, in so many ways they were.

He remembered that day like it was yesterday, the words Zac spoke proudly died in his ears instantly when you came into view.

You lace your fingers with his, running your fingers along the ridges of his knuckles, “but we also work together, Lan.”

He sucks in a breath, fingers tightening around yours like he never wants to let go. “Then let's go slow, we can do whatever you want,” he says softly, allowing the ball to be fully in your court.

“I want to go slow, no labels,” you decide, he nods agreeing with you. “And we can't tell anybody here, if Zac finds out, we’re cooked.” He looks at you like that one was obvious.

“M’kay, deal.” He says before hooking his hand behind your neck and pulling you in for another kiss. You could definitely get used to this.

──── ঌ ────

And so began your surreptitious relationship. Stolen moments across shifts have been what get you both through the hard days.

There was the time where Truck had a bad call, a miscommunication during a barbeque gone rogue ending in a flashover and a father in the hospital overnight for smoke inhalation. He came back with a storm cloud over his head, slamming cabinets like they were his enemy until you grabbed his wrist and dragged him to your new favourite spot in the city, the closet by the laundry room.

You never said anything, just let him vent his frustration until he came back down to Earth. Until he was calm enough to face his men and not come close to punching one in the face.

Then there was the time he had you pinned down on that same cot he held you while you sobbed, though these were sobs of pleasure that he was pulling from you as he ate you out.

His tongue worked magic on your pussy while one hand splayed across your stomach, holding you down as you squirmed, grinding against his face.

“Give it to me baby,” he groaned into your folds, slick coating his face as he slipped a finger inside, “gotta be quiet though– the boys’ll hear you.”

You feel your stomach tightening, his tongue flattening across your clit, drinking everything you had to give him.

“Lan, I’m–” you breathed, the hand in his hair gripping harder as you climbed higher, and higher, Lando being ready to catch you once you fell into pure bliss.

Your high detonates and you hold a hand over your mouth to stay quiet, Lando, the smug bastard continues to lick you as you ride out your orgasm. Placing kisses up your stomach until he reaches your face, pecking your lips before he plops down next to you with a smirk on his face.

“That was– wow,” you say, still catching your breath as you roll over to straddle his lap. His hands gripping the skin of your ass as you begin to grind down on the evident bulge in his pants. “Now it's your turn,” you murmur, a mischievous look on your face.

Your mouth finds the sweet spot under his ear, making him gasp. “Ooohhh fuck– baby,” your hands find his belt undoing it and pulling his pants down his knees, leaving him in nothing but his grey calvin klein boxers that leave little to your imagination; a small wet spot already forming.

Just as you slip your hand in, teasing the waistband while you suckle at the base of his neck.

The bell goes off.

Ambulance 81, person in distress, 5524 beach street.

You both freeze, Lando hides his face in your shoulder, a groan escaping him as you back away to put your clothes back on. “Nooo” he whines as you button your pants, “don’t go,” the pout on his face makes you actually consider rerouting this call.

You giggle, lacing up your shoes before placing a quick peck to his lips and turning towards the door. “I’ll see you later, Norris,” you say before opening the door.

“This is evil!” He shouts as you walk towards the apparatus floor with a smile.

Back in the room, Lando was cheesing far too hard for a man who just got practically edged by his girl.

There was also the time you almost got caught.

You were in his lieutenant quarters, he's kissing down your neck; his hands are everywhere as you tilt your chin so he can have more access

“Lan–” you cut yourself off with a gasp when he mouths the space between your collarbone. “Oscar could come in here any second”

“Who cares?” he mumbles into your neck before pulling away to smash his lips into yours. His tongue licking into your mouth as your hands find his curls; you grab a handful and tug lightly. Not hard, but enough that a small whimper escapes Lando.

His hands found your ass before he squeezed tightly, pushing himself against you so there wasn’t even a hair between you. You kissed, and kissed, and kissed, you kissed so much you almost forgot where you were.

Key word, almost.

The knock on his door made you pull apart, the door handle starting to shimmy made Lando shove you in the closet. Lando adjusts his collar, then his pants before he opens the door to find a disgruntled Max Fewtrell on the other side.

Confused, he takes a look around the room, “why do you look sneaky?” He asks carefully, eyeing lando like a suspect in a police investigation.

“I don't look sneaky” the boy answers quickly, “you’re the one showing up unannounced.”

Max waltzes in, plopping himself on the chair that is threateningly close to the closet you are currently hiding in. Lando feels his pulse spike as he takes a seat, but he remains calm. Taking a seat at his desk across from him, “so what's up man, did George need help with those drills?”

You were in the closet listening to them talk about stuff you frankly didn't understand, the firefighter lingo went out your ears as they sat there for 5 minutes discussing last week's chemistry lab fire that hit the news.

“You seem happy lately man, something new?” Max inquiries, and Lando sits up straighter in his chair. Playing it extremely cool, blowing air through his lips and shaking his head, "No, man, nothing, I guess,” he pauses, subtly glancing towards the closet, “I guess, some things are clicking into place.” A smile works its way onto his face, unable to hide his happiness.

Max watches him carefully, and maybe he noticed something, either way he didn't say anything. Just clapped hands with Lando when he stood up,saying a quick, “C’ya out there, mate,” before exiting.

Lando watches the door latch, waiting for the click before scurrying to open the closet and catching you when your legs fail you from crouching in the small box for so long.

You look up at him flustered, “Next time, put me under the bed!” You both dissolve into giggles before the bell interrupts.

And then there was your favourite time, the time that had absolutely nothing to do with the fire station at all.

It was your day off, you were on your couch in your apartment, grey baggy sweatpants and a navy London FD hoodie swallowing your body.

Yesterday had been a rough shift, calls stacking up, adding on a run of minimal sleep resulting in your body being utterly exhausted. Sniffles escaping you as your nose runs. Lily left you alone about an hour ago, mentioning some day date with Oscar to a flea market followed by dinner, so this left you to your own devices while you battled the post shift plague.

Also known as the couch, the tv remote, and 5 episodes of love island to catch up on.

Your phone buzzed around episode 3, the goofy picture of Lando sticking his tongue at you flashed on your screen as he called you. “Hey you!” you answered, the slight rasp in your voice evident on Lando's end.

“You sound like a sailor, you okay?” He asks immediately

“Just a post-shift illness, nothing crazy,” you shove a handful of popcorn in your mouth, watching Melanie crash out at a criminally low volume.

A gasp trickled across the line, “Why didn’t you lead with that!” You hear rustling that sounds awfully close to keys being grabbed, “I’m on my way,” he states.

“No, Lando-” you say, knowing he had plans today, "Don't bail on Max for me, I’ll be fine–”

“Nope! Already on my way with soup!” He cuts you off, “See you soon, baby!”

The line goes dead.

You stare at your now locked phone, the corners of your mouth tilting up at the confidence in his voice. Determined to cancel his plans just to hang out with you while you're ill.

This boy has you in deep.

He arrived less than 15 minutes later. You opened the front door to see Lando, looking adorable in black sweatpants with a grey hoodie, topped with a maroon LFD cap that was placed backwards and a paper grocery bag clutched in his hands.

He kissed your lips as you welcomed him in, “You didn't have to come, Lando." He toed his shoes off before making his way in.

“I can't have you getting sick on me,” he joked as you followed him into the kitchen, he's been here enough times in the past two months to know his way around.

“Besides,” he wraps his hands around your waist in a hug, “Golf is boring anyways” he says softly before leaning in to kiss you.

You push him away, not wanting to have him get sick. “Those are words you would never utter even if it got you a pay raise.”

He pouts, squeezing your hips like if he's not touching you in some way, the entire block will burst into flames. “L’emme be your nurse for the day, you spend so much time taking care of people.” He mutters lowly, “Let someone take care of you for once.”

Your heart melted at the boy stood in front of you, staring at you like you were his whole world. giving you the puppy dog eyes just so he can care for you.

It was so hard to say no to him.

You spent the day wrapped up on the couch watching movies, your limbs entangled with his under a cozy blanket. Lando gave you medicine, attempted to braid your hair when it was in your face, doing anything he could to make sure you were the most comfortable you could possibly be.

His fingers traced mindless patterns on the skin of your back while the two of you lay together on the sofa. The sun had begun its descent, painting the room in a mosaic of warmth. The sun filtered on his face just right, spotlighting his eyes as they shone a beautiful mix of blue and green.

He turned to catch you staring, a warm smile forming on his face as he studied your face.

“Hi,” he said softly, his hair slightly ruffled from abandoning his hat hours ago.

God, you could just stare at him for hours.

You drink him in for a moment, counting the moles that scatter from his forehead to his collarbone and how his curls frame his forehead perfectly to create a halo in the light. He looked angelic, truly.

Your hands find his curls, running your hands through them in an attempt to tame them. Lando lets out a contemptuous hmm while your nails scratch his scalp perfectly.

“Hi,” you say smugly, placing kisses across the planes of his cheeks and every ridge of his dimples.

“Thank you for being my cute n’ sexy nurse today.” Lando's cheeks flush pink in embarrassment, heat filtering down his neck.

“Of course,” he says quietly into your shoulder. His breath fanned across your skin. “Anything for you,” he adds with a breath.

There was a deeper meaning somewhere in there, but the sound of a key turning in its lock put a humongous pin in this conversation.

The door swung open and in walked your roommate and her boyfriend, giggling at something Oscar said. They looked a little drunk, whether that was because of alcohol or just being within proximity of each other, you couldn’t tell.

They paused in the doorway, eyes falling to you and lando lounging on the couch.

Oscar hummed, his arms draping around Lily. “Oh, hey, thought you were golfing?” He asked the lieutenant as he walked towards the couch.

Lando didn’t move from his spot underneath you, dapping up Oscar with a crisp clap. “Somebody was deathly ill and needed nurse Norris to rescue her,” he said confidently.

His eyes flicked to meet yours, sending a wink your way. You laughed at his antics, “um–” you interjected, “I was fine on my own, thank you very much.”

His smirk only grew, “sure you were, darling?”

fuck, this guy is good.

Your cheeks grew warm as you sunk deeper into the cushions beneath you. You hate the effect he has on you sometimes, making you speechless with a flash of a smile.

As if a lightbulb went off in his head, “crap–,” he looked at his watch, “you’re due for meds.” He mumbles as he moves you gently off him, resting you back on the couch before bolting into the kitchen.

Oscar and Lily watched, exchanging a knowing look from their place at the other end of the sofa.

Lando returned with two small pills and a glass of water, handing you the small medication and watching carefully as you washed them down. Lily watched carefully, watching your interactions with the boy. Taking mental notes of the mannerisms she observes that resemble her own with Oscar.

Lando resumed his position beneath you, holding you close as he turns to the room, smiling so big before he grabs the remote,

“So, football?”

The four of you spent the rest of the evening talking aimlessly while the tv faded into the background, the sound of boys bickering at the tv filled the apartment as you and Lily gossiped about your neighbors.

Your eyelids began to grow heavy as the clock neared 11:30pm, the feeling of Lando continuing to draw shapes into the skin under your hoodie lulling you into a deep sleep.

“I think she’s out,” Oscar says, pointing at you while Lily non-subtlety took a picture of the two of you.

Lando craned his neck to see your face, soft and undeniably asleep. His eyes combed over your face, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks, fluttering slightly as you dream.

There was something so vulnerable about your sleeping state, making Lando want to hide you from the rest of the world, keep you warm in his arms forever.

“I'll take her to bed and then I'll head out, you comin’ with, Osc?” He asked as he gently gathered you in his arms.

Oscar nodded at him as he stood, lifting you bridal style with ease. The blanket draped across you like a dress, your head falling against his shoulder allowing him to feel your breath trickle along his neck. He walked carefully to your bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot and placing you gently down on your mattress.

As he was tucking you in, you let out a sigh of content and Lando felt the urge to get in bed with you. Instead, he pushed fallen hair from your face, revealing the soft features he was enchanted by.

He bent down to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, holding it before moving to kiss the corner of your mouth, mumbling, “night beautiful,” before he made his way to the door.

He looked back before crossing the threshold, every bone in his body wanting him to get in bed with you, to wrap his arms around you while you both slept peacefully.

But his head told him otherwise, his head let the fear of moving too fast catch up to him, what ifs lingering in the forefront. He wanted you so badly, but couldn’t bear the thought of you risking your career for him.

He knew he loved you, it was that simple. He's known he loved you for a while now. Which is why he won't allow you to risk it all for him.

So he quietly shut the door and went back to the living room where Oscar awaited with his keys in hand.

──── ঌ ────

You and Lily found yourselves in the kitchen, sharing a bottle of wine while snacking on some salty nacho chips. Work had kicked both your asses and you were due for a much needed girls night. These were your favourite nights, any night not spent sleeping on a small firehouse cot sandwiched between two snoring men, was something you cherished greatly.

You just finished retelling a story from yesterday’s shift, explaining the horrible joke Lando said to Oscar before your last call.

Lily straightens up at the mention of the lieutenant, “speaking of...” she says slowly, the tone of the night changing from lighthearted to something more serious. Lily placed her glass down before speaking again, “You two are good together.”

Your eyes meet Lily's, your fingers running around the rim of your glass. “Yeah,” you blush, “he's been great.”

The girl raised her brow, “can I ask you something though, babe?” You take a breath, bracing for impact, "are you and Lando official yet?”

You frown, taken aback, “no– we’re just,” you pause, finding the words “keepin’ it casual y’know, for the firehouse,” you said, words becoming less confident as they blurted from your mouth..

Lily paused, sitting up slightly in her chair, pursing her lips while she thought. “Babe, I love you,” she spoke, choosing her words carefully, “but that man is basically your boyfriend.”

You stare at her, recounting moments with Lando from the past month. The time he came over while you were sick, all the mornings he offered to drive you to work, every sandwich he brought you mid-shift because he knew you needed to eat.

Your shoulders deflated, eyes stinging, “I don't know what we are, Lils,” you murmured, hiding your face in your hands. Lily knew you inside and out, even better than you knew yourself sometimes, and as much as it helps with daily decision-making, this wasn’t helping your situation at all.

“If you can’t see that that man is in love with you, then the paramedics board needs to check your sight before shift,” she says, taking a sip of her wine.

“Lily, he’s not in love with me.”

Lily took your hand in hers, her eyes are fierce and telling you she's not joking around anymore. “There is no way he took care of you all day last week, carried you to bed and then looked depressed as he had to leave you just because this is casual for him.”

You absorb her words, the sentences hitting you like a train. Maybe she was right. Maybe the moments you shared were more than casual, but Lando could never and would never allow it to go further, as much as that hurt to acknowledge. Your eyes found your lap, fingers picking at the stem of your glass. “It doesn’t even matter, he’s not going to ask to be my boyfriend.”

Lily watches you fidget with your glass and practically sees the gears in your brain turn. As stubborn as you were, she knew you’ll get there eventually, she just needs to help you along.

“Honey, it does matter,” she sighs “it matters, because you want him to be” she adds, gently.

A pang of sadness echoed in your chest. She was right, you knew she was right; You wanted everything, you wanted dates, you wanted nights spent wrapped in each other's arms before coming into shift together the next morning. You wanted him to love you openly and loudly across the city you both have dedicated nearly a decade to.

You didn't realize you were crying until the tears blurred your vision, Lily reaching out her hand to wipe them askew. “Talk to him, babe, I can see you want more.”

She leaves you with your thoughts, alone in the living room as you ponder whether or not Lando wanted you at the same level you wanted him.

──── ঌ ────

The firehouse was always quiet in the morning, fighters coming in slowly with coffee cups clutched like a lifeline.

You were waiting for Lando on the cot by the laundry machines. After your talk with Lily, you decided to talk to him.

You had messaged him to meet you at your spot, saying you wanted to talk. The ticking clock on the wall didn’t lessen your anxiety as its legs reached just past 9:30a.m.

The door opened quietly before Lando snuck his way in, curls still damp from his shower and a crisp uniform on. You noticed the slight tense in his shoulders, followed by the crease in his forehead he gets when he's stressed.

“Hey,” he says shortly, taking a seat next to you before placing a sweet kiss on your cheek. His eyes looked tired and you began to regret choosing now as the time to bring up your relationship.

“Morning, everything okay?”

He sighs, “Zac just dropped a whole stack of reports from last week that admin filed wrong,” he vents, “now I need to go through them all.”

“Oh, well this can wait then,” you stand to leave, but he grabs your hand, spinning you back around to face him.

“No,” he breathes, "don't do that. What's on your mind, love?”

You stare at him, eyes darting across his face to find any excuse to not utter the words you're about to say next. But the steady hold he had on your hand was enough to tell you this was happening now, whether you wanted it to or not.

“What are we, Lando?” You sigh, shoulders falling.

The boy blinks, wrinkles forming between his brows, “what do you mean?”

“I mean us, Lan– what is this?” You say, jutting your hand between the two of you. “Are you planning on being fuck buddies forever?” You add, anger rising in your tone.

You watch the gears turn in his brain, he tilted his head before scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “I thought we were just keeping things casual,” he says, his voice an octave lower than usual.

You roll your eyes, a scoff escaping your lips before you can shove it down. Taking your hand from his, you cross your arms across your chest.

“No–” the boy catches your attitude, “you were the one who decided no labels,” he argues, utter confusion written across his face.

“I said that three months ago, Lando!” you snap, the boy pinched the bridge of his nose as he exhaled, running a hand down his face before fanning it out in front of him.

“So what are you saying, you want more now?” he asks, “While zac is breathing down my neck you wanna throw this at him, shall we give him a heart attack while we're at it? Stroke maybe?” he quipped, sarcasm oozing from the anger in his voice.

You watch him rub his temples, your lip trembling slightly as he sighs, calming his emotions before he speaks.

“We work together, y/n, this can't be anything more than casual.” He said gently, like he's trying to let you down easy, it broke your heart.

“Its just easier.”

It was like glass shattering, your chest felt the blow as the words landed.

“Easier...” you parroted, eyes swimming as Lando slowly realized what he'd implied, his face morphing from frustration into regret.

You lick your lips, emotion draining from your face while your eyes dart everywhere but him. “You want easier?” you question, Lando shrugs lightly where he stands, his words failing him in fear of making this conversation fly further south.

“I will do you one better,” the coldness in your voice shook him to his core, and as you said the following words, he felt his heart shatter, “it's done.”

The boy's eyes went wide, breath catching in his throat. “No– what?”

“We’re done, Lando, it's done.” you repeated, voice shaking.

His eyes met yours then, both red rimmed and wide before you turned to leave. He steps in front of you blocking the door. “y/n– baby, wait–”

He's cut off by an unpleasant ring sourced from the ceiling.

Ambulance 81, Truck 81, Squad 4, Engine 81, Structure Fire, 7625 Silverstone Road.

You both freeze, eyes locked on each other as the bell reads out. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as Lando opens the door slowly.

He looks at you, eyes glassy with unleashed tears of frustration, “this conversation isn't over,” he mutters, low but firm.

“I think it is, Lando,” you respond, brushing past him as you rush to the garage.

Your partner falls into step beside you, sensing your tension immediately. “You okay?”

You stare forward. “Can you drive?”

She says nothing as you hand her the keys and walk to the passenger side, slamming the door as she starts up the lights and sirens. Your ambulance led the train of first responders down the street towards the cloud of smoke gathering in the sky ahead.

You leaned your head against your hand propped on the window, your mind still reeling from your fight with Lando. You wiped the stray tear that made it past your waterline.

Three trucks behind you, Lando sat furious.

His silence was thick in the front seat; Max in the driver's seat slightly worried his friend had sung into a seashell and a seawitch stole his voice. This wasn't normal for him.

Usually he was listing orders, giving everyone a job to do once they land. Leading his team in the race against time. But today, he looked like he’d rather let the stopwatch win.

Max looks over, finding him starting dead straight at the dash. His fire helmet was held in his hands between his legs. His mind anywhere but the truck.

“You alright, mate?” He shouted over the drilling sound of the siren.

Lando locked eyes with him, empty and cold. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

He lied, he knew he shouldn't've. But how can he say 'my semi-girlfriend just broke up with me and now I have to run into a burning building' without causing Max to crash into a telephone pole.

He just shrugged and looked out the window, shoving the rock in his gut further down. The community needed him, so he needed to shut up and fight a fire.

He smells the smoke before he sees it. The tinge fills his nose as the truck makes a wide turn onto Silverstone road, he spotted the cloud instantly. The black smoke rose rapidly as civilians crowded the road, watching in horror as the house went up in flames.

The truck halts to a stop and Lando jumps out, boots hitting the ground with a loud thud before he's shrugging his jacket on. He turns to his crew, Oscar already grabbing air tanks from the side compartment.

“Mask up boys–” Lando orders, analyzing the flames that are spitting from the first story window. “Gonna be a long one.” he pulls his SCBA over his head, adjusting his balaclava.

Max eyes the house before turning to Lando, skepticism written across his face. “Are you sure you wanna go in, lieutenant?” he asks, shouting over the roar of glass shattering and wood burning.

Lando turns to him, “We have to make sure no one's inside,” he turns to his crew, pointing at Oscar and Carlos. “You two, with me on primary search.”

They take off towards the front door, Lando's step falters when he hears a vehicle door slam shut to his right. He turns to be met with you, staring dead into him. Your eyes narrow, but he can decipher the concern hidden behind your cold gaze.

He holds your gaze for a moment, before shaking from it, his helmet sliding atop his head.“Oi Fewtrell, you coming or what?” He yells at the man scrubbing his mask on.

The door busts open with a satisfying boot kick. A gust of wind follows as flames lick up the walls and devour what's left of what, Lando assumes, was a living room.

The men make their way through the foyer, passing the stairs as the first floor took priority.

Smoke blackened out their vision as they came through, bracing their hands on the wall for any sense of direction. Carlos takes the lead, guiding the group throughout the first floor. Keeping low as they come into a engulfed hallway.

“I’ve got one!” He bellows, spotting a body limp on the floor. A teenage boy with arms singed in burns. Carlos puts two fingers to his neck, “He’s got a pulse!” He shouts down the line.

“You and Piastri take him to the paramedics,” Lando responds, “Fewtrell and I will continue upstairs.”

The two men drag the young boy out past Lando and Max, reporting on the radio to Chief Brown outside. Lando continued on with Max on his heels, the pair finding their way back to the stairs. His heart was pounding as they made their way up, his gear heavy, weighing down his body. The routine hiss from his air tank whispered in his ears every time he took a breath.

The second floor wasn’t much better, fire raging in every direction he could see. The flames screamed a warning, angry red as Lando and Max began their search.

Coming to a closed door, he places his palm backwards against the middle, no immediate heat. Sending a nod to Max, a signal to force entry.

“Fire department, call out!” He roared out once Max kicked in the door, finding a bedroom wrecked from an attempt to control the fire.

He dropped down, checking under the charred twin bed, nothing; behind the rocking chair, nothing.

He turned to Max, the man shaking his head. Just when the flames gave them a moment to think, a woman's voice came from the closet.

“Here!” She screamed out, “we’re in here!”

They followed her voice, throwing the door open to find a mother and son huddling together under a blanket. Jumping into action, Lando assists the mother up, her wincing once she puts weight on her leg. Lando looks down to see burns, bad ones, covering her lower thigh. The skin seared through to the muscle.

“We’ve got you guys, we're gonna get you out,” he assures as he takes her arm around his neck, helping her walk through the hallway and down the stairs. Max moves ahead with the boy in his arms, rushing him to paramedics, leaving Lando to take mom to safety.

They're halfway down the stairs, the sunlight beaming through the smoke as the front door is in sight. But the lady suddenly braces her hand on the railing, halting their step.

“Wait! My husband is in the kitchen; he went back for our dog!”

Lando’s brain short circuits, of course there’s a fourth, unidentified victim. Because the universe wants to play with him today.

“Ma’am, I'm sure he's fine–” he speaks but the lady pushes.

“No you have to find him- I can't live without him.”

Lando could laugh at the sheer irony. But he doesn't, instead he thinks about what to do next.

The smoke gathered at the ceiling, they were running out of time. He needed to think. C’mon Lando, think!

Then, like an angel sent from heaven, Oscar appeared through the smoke, breaking it to reveal the exit ahead. “Need some help?” he queried, taking the woman's hand.

“She says her husband is in the kitchen, did another man come out?” Oscar shakes his head, and Lando curses behind his mask. “Okay, I’m going back, you take mom to ambo–”

“It might be too late, lieutenant!" Oscar argues, his voice wary as Lando shakes his head.

“I have to try!” He shouts before he's gone, leaving Oscar and the women standing in the foyer. The firefighter grumbles before taking the victim under his arm, leading her out the door.

You watch as Oscar carries the woman to an open gurney, allowing you to jump in with an O2 mask, pressing it against her mouth as she gasps from the relief of fresh air. You dress her burns while Oscar stands by his mask hiked up on his face, eyes focused on the front door he just emerged from.

Chief Brown stood tall on the sidewalk, watching as the fire spoke to him. Black smoke began to roll from the second floor, telling him their time was up.

“Alright, nobody in or out, this is gonna blow,” he authorizes, turning to count his men.

Oscar is the first to speak up, “Sir wait–”

Time slowed down in the seconds he paused.

“Lando’s still in there.”

Your heart plummeted, fingers stuttering on the bandages you had just carefully wrapped. You couldn't panic yet, Lando was smart and this woman needed you to be composed.

Even if you were anything but.

Zac grumbles, hiking his radio towards his mouth, “Norris, report” booms through the surrounding radios.

There's silence for a moment. You held your breath, all eyes watching the burning house.

The crackle came through followed by the frantic voice of Lando Norris.

“I’ve got a victim down in the kitchen here, chief," he says, grunted and loud, shouting over the flames you imagine that surround him.

Zac curses under his breath, bringing the radio higher, “Norris, you gotta get out of there right now.” He says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

The silence that followed made you stop, panic rising in your chest as Lando failed to respond. You watch, waiting for him to say something, anything on the radio. You took your lip between your teeth, “c’mon lando,” you mumbled to no one.

The world went silent for a moment. The eye of the hurricane, taunting you with the illusion of safety.

Then it erupted.

There's a deafening clap as the fire flashes, an explosion of flames snapping, shattering any glass that remained. Bystanders screamed in horror as the smoke curled, black and evil like the supervillain had won.

Oscar took off running, securing his mask before rushing inside. Despite the order of Chief Brown and multiple other firemen.

“Piastri– Don't!"

He disappeared into the smoke and your stomach couldn't settle what it was going to be like planning two funerals.

You stood frozen at the ambulance, your partner taking over the care of two patients while you stood useless. Your ability to move stolen as the entire block stood in silence.

Your eyes began to well up as the seconds ticked on, water streaming from the fire hydrants as men began to take off their helmets, all efforts to tame this fire abandoned.

Carlos and Max stood with their hands on head, stress heaving from their bodies as they waited for a sign of life.

Losing one firefighter was enough. Losing two would be devastating.

You all waited anxiously, smoke still filing from the front door. Minutes ticking by, still radio silence.

You covered your mouth to muffle a sob, you think of your fight this morning. How small it now feels to have asked to be his when he was being ripped away entirely.

You shake your head as Zac silently nods to the engine. His signal to ready the water canons, sorrow written across his face as he turns his back to the house.

Your knees feel weak, you crouch with your head in your hands. Tears freely flowing as they prepare to fry two of your best friends alive.

The booming voice of max is what draws you back,

“They’re coming out!”

You lift your head to see the smoke part; a man held up by two firefighters emerges, walking towards the ambulances.

Holy shit they’re alive.

You rush with a gurney, your partner in tow to catch them. You meet them halfway, Lando's mask slightly cracked and his helmet was off centered, but he was standing, breathing here in front of you.

He fell onto your gurney before you –along with Max and Carlos– assist him in shedding his gear, holding an O2 mask to his face, coughs shaking his body as the smoke inhalation takes its toll

“You’re okay, breathe, Lando, breathe,” you shush, voice as calm as you can make it while he gasps for air. His balaclava is toasted, revealing burns running along his neck. Your heart lodges itself in your throat as you dress them.

Your partner shouts, taking the lead. “Alright, let's load ‘em up!”

You stay by his side as they roll him towards the ambulance, his hand searching for yours along the side rail. You link your hands instantly, squeezing his fingers tight.

“I’m here baby, I'm here,” you assure wobbly, the boy lifts his head to look at you, tears filling his eyes in shame.

“I’m–” he chokes out, "I'm sorry”

You shake your head, your own tears blurring your vision. “No, Lan– none of that right now.”

“But I–” He grunts in pain, his grip on your hand strengthening. They load him into the ambulance and you take a seat, wrapping both your hands around his.

“It's okay,” you whisper, placing a kiss on his fingers. “Let’s just get you to the hospital, okay?”

The paramedic hangs him an IV, informing you the sedative will kick in soon, his eyes begin to droop and you watch as the pain fades from his eyes, your heart finally beating steady again.

Lando mumbles incoherently before he's out, his eyes meeting yours before he nods off. “M’kay,” he says, sleepy.

What you didn't hear, lost in the chaos of sirens and potholes, was a faint “I love you” whispered before the meds pulled him under.

──── ঌ ────

At the hospital, nobody dared to speak.

Firefighters taking up the waiting room, gear hanging over their chairs as the whole crew sat in silence.

You were sitting in a plastic waiting room chair that gave no sense of comfort while nurses ran back and forth across the burn unit.

The silence was deafening, you felt underwater. Sound muffled in your ears as the men around you talked amongst themselves, trying to take their mind off the boy sitting in pain somewhere within these walls.

Oscar was sat to your right, fire jacket still on, soot staining his face from the flashover he dove into to save his lieutenant from becoming a cautionary tale.

He hasn't spoken since he emerged from the burning house, refusing to leave your side as you watched them roll Lando into the ICU.

He didn't speak when you took a seat next to him, eyes solely focused on the floor in front of him.

You’ve seen Lando do this before, replaying every moment of the call before it went wrong, trying to understand what he could've done differently so maybe they wouldn’t have to be sitting in the harsh light of the hospital.

Your station was no stranger to the burn unit; in fact, you could probably name every nurse and direct anybody towards a functional vending machine, if needed.

But it was different when you were the one waiting.

It was different when you were the one holding your breath every time a doctor came through those double doors; it felt heavier, it sat with you as the image of Lando's burned, limp body plastered itself behind your eyelids.

You’ve had men in here before, but none of them held the weight lando did.

You sat there for almost an hour before a nurse came out, her hair tied back perfectly in her peony pink scrubs. She locked eyes with chief brown, making your stomach drop.

You stood as she approached; Oscar and Lily–who had recently arrived– rose beside you, everyone waiting anxiously.

The nurse took a breath before turning towards Zac. “He sustained first-degree burns across his neck and a very small second-degree burn along his left ear, along with heavy smoke inhalation,” she began. You felt sick. “But he's going to be fine, just a few days' rest–” you stopped listening then; he was fine.

Lando was going to be fine.

The tears flowed before you could stop them, your breathing stuttered as you sobbed from relief. The world fading as a pair of arms–who you later realized were Oscar’s– pulled you in, holding you tight as his own eyes filled.

The crew watched as you cried, your body shaking as Oscar held you. The nurse leaned into Zac, her brows knit together.

“Girlfriend?” she politely asks, pointing.

Zac tsks his lips, trying to piece together a three month long puzzle that he doesn't even have the reference for. “Um," the man responds, “I'm not sure.” The nurse just smiles, a nod of understanding as she takes a step towards the group of firemen.

You lift your head from Oscar's shoulder, eyes while redrimmed and wet, full of hope.

The nurse stares directly at you when she asks, “do you want to see him?”

Lily held your hand as the crew walked through the hallways, passing hundreds of doors, waiting for Lando to be behind one of them.

She finally paused near the end of the hallway, stopping in front of a pale beige door.

“He’s a little loopy from the pain meds we gave him, but he's alert and responsive.” She warns as the door opens with a soft click and ten firefighters along with two paramedics file inside.

The room was spacious, though you and Lily stayed near the door. You weren't sure whether he wanted to see you, granted you weren't sure if you were ready to see him.

“Heyyy,” his cheery voice fills the room, “there's my people!”

Laughter fills the room as Lando motions you all to come in, a dopey smile etched across his face.

“Thought we lost ya there, pal!” Max jokes from the end of his bed, slapping his calves lightly.

Lando just laughs, “it’ll take more than a fire to get rid of me, maxie!”

The room was lighter, laughter and jokes filling the space. You're still leaning against the door, eyes studying his burns, predicting which will fade with time and which will become a story he tells his grandkids.

You keep an eye on his monitor, checking his vitals like your triple checking he's alive.

“Got burned pretty good there, cabron," Carlos says, pointing to his ear.

Lando just pushes air through his lips, waving his hand in dismissal while he shakes his hand, his curls shaking with him.

“No– guys,” he drawls, those meds must be amazing, "I'm fine, promise!” He declares sitting up straighter, playing into the bit. You watch his eyes scan the room as the room continues to converse, as if he was searching for someone.

“He's looking for you,” Lily whispers next to you and you snap your neck towards her.

You lean further into the wall, slightly hoping it would swallow you whole. You haven't forgotten this morning, and you were unsure if you and Lando stood on solid ground.

The last thing you wanted was to overwhelm him in a hospital bed, but fate seemed to disagree.

“Alright crew, let's leave your lieutenant to rest.” Zac announces after a while, motioning towards the door. His eyes lock with you. “I'm sure he doesn't need you smelly lot crowding him” he finishes as the crew begin to exit.

Zac stops in front of you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You're done for today, stay with him,” he says low, your eyes widened before sending him a grateful smile, nodding. Patting your shoulder, he follows the crew out the door.

The door shuts softly, leaving you and Lando alone. The rhythmic beating of his heart monitors ground you to this moment, drinking him in as he notices your hesitation to come closer.

He looked so small lying in that hospital bed, his tan skin glowing against the harsh white sheets. His hair askew from nurses adjusting his bandages. You hated it. You hated seeing him in this state.

It reminded you of how real your job is, how quickly the world can take something you love away.

He slowly reaches his hand out– his palm facing up– inviting you to take his hand.

“C’mere,” he says softly, eyes pouring into yours like the only thing that mattered was you. You take a seat in the chair by his bed, placing your hand in his, sighing at the feeling of his fingers between yours.

You feel yourself choke up, lip wobbling while your eyes swell. “You really scared me,” you say, voice shaking. His thumb rubs soothing circles on your knuckles.

“I know,” he exhales, turning his head towards the window, looking out over the sunkissed city. “I’m so sorry.”

The silence was full between you, not awkward– but thick. Waiting for someone to speak, you stayed with your hand in his as he searched for his words.

When he finally spoke, his voice was small.

“All I could think about,” he murmurs, looking down at his lap, “during those moments, was how I would never see you again.”

Your eyes rose to meet his, the world fading away to leave just you and him, together.

“How I would never get to have a life with you,” he continued, his heart picked up. “We’d never get to do everything I planned.”

You paused, tilting your chin, “what did you have planned?”

He smiled, thinking for a moment.“I was gonna talk to Zac,” he starts, “y’know, get his blessing,” he adds quickly, you let out a laugh.

“Then I was gonna take you somewhere special, ask you properly.”

You listen, digesting his words as he pours his heart to you. Laying himself bare before you, he squeezes your hand three times.

“I wasn't with you because you were easy,” he said, you feel your stomach twist. “You make everything lighter,” he utters, tears flowing down both of your cheeks. “Just by being you, your smile, your laugh, that little scrunch of your nose you do when you concentrate,” he confesses, your heart doing somersaults in its chest cavity.

“You’ve always caught me when I fell, showed me what it was like to be loved.” he states. Your fingers trembling in his hand.

“What are you saying, Lando?” you sniffle, wiping your tears.

“I want everything, I want to take you on dates, I want to kiss you in my quarters without having to check if the blinds are drawn,” he lists, his eyes never leaving yours. “I love you so much, I can’t hide it anymore” he confesses, and your heart breaks open. You smile, warm and bright as he mirrors your expression, his tooth gap on full display.

“You love me?” you question quietly, “it would be hard not to” he says, eyes bright and full of hope.

“I love you, too,” you respond, and he somehow smiles wider, his dimples shifting even higher to meet the crease of his eyes.

“Yeah?” he asks, sitting up as you nod, tugging your hand slightly. “Can I kiss you now?” his eyes begging you to come closer.

You hesitate, not wanting to crowd his burns. But he pulls out those puppy dog eyes, pouting his lip and your defence weakens. Heart melting when your lips brush across his in a sweet kiss.

He pulls you into bed with him, letting you lie on his chest. Careful of his IV and other monitor wires. His chin rests on your hair as he holds you tight.

“So, no more casual?” you say lightly, and tilt your chin to face him. His eyes are serious before he kisses you deeply. Lips sealing over yours as you sigh into him.

“There was never anything casual about this,” he mumbles against your lips, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheekbones.

You smile before returning to your previous position, your head resting just above his heartbeat. A steady thud that brings you back to your stolen moments by the laundry machines.

And when Zac Brown returns at the end of shift to find you both sound asleep, limbs tangled with one another in the small hospital bed, he doesn’t say anything, he just smiles and quietly retreats out the door.

──── ঌ ────

landopoet

always a pleasure working with you <3

#read read read!!!

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