POOLSIDE THERAPY ⭑ LN1
MASTERLIST
pairing: lando norris x reader
lando just wanted to sleep. instead, he gets front-row seats to his best friend’s very active night, and escapes straight into yours. he finds out that, apparently, 2am is the perfect time to ruin your life. or fix it.
genre: rom-com, strangers to lovers, late-night chaos, emotional vulnerability, mutual comfort, bad decisions, unexpected connection.
warnings: one sleep-deprived driver, one girl having a really bad night, bad decisions made after 2am, suggestive content, slight breast play (minors dni), terrible timing, mutual pining, emotional vulnerability, A LOT OF SWEARING, sprite zero (not sponsored).
word count: 5.4k
a/n: this pulled me out of a massive creative block and then immediately turned into chaos… but the fun kind. i had zero control over this, but i loved every second of it (no regrets). hope you enjoy!
For twenty whole minutes, Lando Norris had been trying desperately to fall asleep.
He had tried everything.
He’d turned on the TV, some stupid late-night show he wasn’t even paying attention to. He’d put on rain ASMR, because apparently that was supposed to be “relaxing.” He’d forced himself to read half a page of a book, half a page being his absolute limit before boredom kicked in, and he’d even made that stupid tea his mum swore by for “difficult nights.” Nothing worked.
At that exact moment, he had a pillow wrapped around his head and his face buried into the mattress because… seriously. This was impossible.
Another moan slipped right through the paper-thin wall, loud, sharp, and Lando let out a muffled, fake sob into his pillow.
For fuck’s sake.
Look, okay, he wasn’t against a good night of passion. Not at all. Sex was great. He enjoyed it. Fully supported it, even. When Max had mentioned he was going out and had plans for the night, Lando had given him two enthusiastic thumbs up, fully on board.
He liked her. She was nice. She made his best friend happy. He wanted that. Genuinely. Wished them both the absolute best in every possible way.
And, wow, Max had to be really good at what he was doing to get that kind of reaction, good for her, but there were limits. No one had mentioned they’d be doing it right there, under his ceiling, otherwise, he would’ve gone to find somewhere else to spend the night, or convinced Max to take it literally anywhere else.
Lando did not need to be part of—
“Do you like it like that?” followed by another moan.
Okay. That’s it. That’s it.
Ew. Ew. Ew.
EW.
He jumped out of bed without even bothering to check when the pillow hit the floor with a soft thump. He grabbed the white t-shirt draped over the back of the armchair, the grey hoodie, pulled everything on like it was some kind of protective gear, and walked out of the bedroom.
He was halfway to the front door when his brain finally caught up with him, and he abruptly turned around.
He went back, shut his bedroom door, and locked it.
He had no idea what people with their brains completely fried by horniness were capable of, and he absolutely refused to let his beloved bedroom turn into a den of that… absolute filth.
No. Not in there.
Finally, after hearing what he was pretty sure was a slap so well-delivered that he physically flinched, he walked out.
Goodbye.
He didn’t stop to think the moment his feet carried him into the hallway. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to process what had just happened because, honestly, it would leave him feeling utterly traumatized. Jesus. What a bunch of ill-mannered people…
Lando just kept walking, fleeing, wide awake at two in the morning when he was supposed to be asleep. Right, perfect time to distract himself with something truly worthwhile. Options, then, because he definitely wasn’t about to stand there looking pathetic in the hallway.
Hmm. He could hit the gym, sure, go to the laundry room, or the sauna, or the hot tub… God knows he could use some relaxation, but, hm, no. That sounded far too much like being productive, which was the last thing he wanted to be right now. Honestly, Lando just wanted to sit somewhere quiet and reflect on his poor life choices. Somewhere with a bit of fresh air. Silence. That would be nice.
He kept walking, each step taking him closer to the outdoor pool. Each step further away from Max, from his girlfriend, more silence, more silence. The doors swung open and the first thing he felt was the wind hitting his face. He even paused for a second, taking a deep breath, before heading toward the steps, his flip-flops echoing against the stone as he took them two at a time.
It was on the last step that he was forced to stop because—
“No, I’m not accepting your half-assed excuses right now. Can you please just leave me alone?”
Wait, what? Who… who… what?!
“I’m serious. Just go away. I don’t want to hear it. Don’t try to say it wasn’t like that, because it was. I don’t want to see you.”
The voice was coming from the patio and, well, now he could see a little more clearly.
You were sprawled out on a lounge chair, a can of Sprite Zero in one hand while the other rested loosely by your side. A pair of sunglasses covered your eyes (at two in the morning?) and a book lay on your stomach. The band t-shirt you were wearing looked well-worn and didn’t match your pajama shorts at all, but Lando suspected it was very comfortable.
His lips twitched in a suppressed laugh and he crossed his arms.
“Wow. That hurts. I thought we could work through our issues together. I can leave, if you want,” he said, fully committing to the bit.
You sat up immediately, back straight as the book nearly slipped but was caught by your quick hands.
“Fuck. No, no—not you. Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, finally relaxing as you pushed your sunglasses up onto your head to look at him with wide eyes. “I thought… I thought it was Ellie.”
“No. I’m Lando. Hi,” he said, raising a hand in a small wave. “Just coming to use the lounge chairs in the pool area as well, if you don’t mind.”
You let out a long sigh and gestured to the chair beside you before lying back down. Lando let out a quiet breath of laughter and finally gave in, walking over and dropping onto the chair. He stretched out, hands resting on his stomach, eyes settling on the pool like he had nowhere else to be.
“So… this Ellie upset you,” he said, not looking at you.
You took a sip of your Sprite and clicked your tongue, letting out an audible huff. Your free hand came up to rub your eye before you nodded, even if he wasn’t looking.
“She’s a bitch,” you said.
Lando raised his eyebrows, clearly caught off guard by your aggressiveness.
“Wow,” he let out, almost involuntarily.
“Yeah,” you agreed. “I hate using that kind of word to talk about people, but… wow.”
Finally turning to look at you, Lando stayed quiet, giving you space to keep talking.
“Six months ago I broke up with my boyfriend. Five months ago I moved here, because Ellie asked me to live with her, since my life was a mess,” you said, and he listened closely. As you spoke, you turned to face him, meeting his eyes. “I just found out, about twenty minutes ago, that she’s been seeing him for a year.”
The pieces came together in Lando’s head and he seemed to freeze mid-thought. If he was doing the math right, when you broke up with your boyfriend, he had already been seeing your best friend, the same one who had invited you to move in to make you feel better. That was…
“Fuck, that’s shit,” he said.
You nodded.
“That’s shit. That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to see her stupid face ever again, especially not right now.”
He let out a slow breath, shaking his head.
“That’s… actually insane.”
A pause.
“Like, properly insane.”
You hummed in agreement and almost laughed, but brought the can to your lips. That’s when you realized it was empty, clicking your tongue as you looked at it like it had personally offended you. You set it down on the small table between the lounge chairs and turned back to Lando.
“Anyway. That’s my story,” you concluded. “Now… why are you here at the pool of misery and self-pity?”
A laugh slipped out of him as he rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. Of course you noticed, because you raised both eyebrows, which only made him laugh a bit more.
“Embarrassing reason?” you asked.
He tilted his head in a vague “kind of” and you leaned in slightly, clearly curious.
“So… my roommate, who also happens to be my childhood best friend, is currently absolutely going at it with his girlfriend. Like… full force.”
Your hand flew to your mouth immediately, and Lando nodded, already accepting the judgment.
“Yeah. Completely performative. Loud, over-the-top, borderline pornographic. It’s actually disgusting.”
The grimace on his face made you smile wide, throwing your head back in an easy, loud laugh. Lando liked the sound. He laughed too.
“At least someone’s happy,” you said, your voice still carrying that laughter as you looked back at him, head tilted to the side.
“At the expense of my sleep, yeah. That’s true,” Lando said, shaking his head. “But I’d prefer their happiness to be… quieter.”
You raised an eyebrow slightly.
“So you’re trying to silence other people’s love.”
“I’m trying to sleep,” he shot back. “Do you know how hard it is to actually have a week off?"
You shrugged.
“Some people do the fucking, others get fucked. The ones getting fucked run,” you said, reaching under the lounge chair for something. “But the ones getting fucked also eat. And I think you need some chips.”
He frowned and leaned over to see what you were doing.
“I need what, now?” he asked, suspicious.
“Give me a second.”
You finally sat up, holding a fresh can of Sprite Zero and an absurdly large bag of chips.
“You brought food and drinks?”
“My best friend slept with my boyfriend while he was still my boyfriend, then asked me to move in with her and—”
“Okay, I get it, I get it. Jesus. That’s some heavy ammunition…” he said, already reaching for the soda and the chips. “This is completely off my diet.”
“Shut up and eat,” you said, grabbing a can for yourself.
He smiled.
For a few minutes, silence settled between you again. It wasn’t bad. You turned toward him, hand outstretched. Lando understood without a word, passing you the bag, and you took a handful. The space filled with the crunch of chips and the soft tss of his can opening.
“It’s a bad night for us,” you said, a little more thoughtful now.
Lando popped another chip into his mouth and glanced toward the building, exhaling.
“For Max and his girlfriend, though…” he added, a hint of a grin.
You smiled faintly.
“A great night?”
“From what I heard…”
“And who’s worse?” you asked, biting into another chip.
Lando ran his tongue over his teeth, clearing away the salt as he considered the question. With a small, decisive tilt of his head, he answered:
“They’re impressively in sync in every possible way. A perfect match.”
You stared at him for a second.
“So what did you hear?” you asked. “Go on. I need some joy.”
He made a face immediately.
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because my life is falling apart,” you said, very matter-of-fact. “I deserve entertainment.”
He hesitated for a second, then sighed.
“Fine. But I’m warning you, this is bad.”
You leaned in a little, invested.
“Go.”
“You’re weird. Alright, fine, ugh, this is disgusting. Before I left, I heard… I heard a… fuck.” He covered his face with his hands, letting out an embarrassed laugh before dropping them again. “A slap.”
You frowned.
“A slap?”
He nodded.
“A very loud one. And…” He swallowed. “She sounded… very happy about it.”
You froze for half a second.
Then burst out laughing.
“Oh my God.”
“I know.”
“That’s incredible.”
“That’s not incredible,” he protested. “I had to hear that.”
You were still laughing.
“Worth it.”
Lando shook his head, a quiet laugh still lingering.
“You’re a bit concerning, you know that?”
You hummed, unfazed.
“I’ve been told worse.”
Lando bit down on his lower lip, trying to hide the smile that kept threatening to break through. He was smiling too much. Repeatedly. He blinked, sniffed, and took a sip of his drink before setting the half-full can down on the small table.
A small pause settled between you, softer.
Just there.
The water in the pool shifted gently, reflecting faint lights across the ceiling above you. Somewhere in the distance, a door closed.
You lay back down, adjusting yourself on the lounge chair again without worrying about the time. Without worrying about anything. It felt good to pretend, for a few hours, that the world was just that space between the pool and the apartments behind it. Lando lay down too, closing his eyes.
“I think we should play something,” you said, your voice a little quiet.
Neither of you moved.
“Play? Like what?” Lando didn’t even open his eyes.
“I don’t know…” Your nails tapped against the arm of the lounge chair as you thought. “We should ask each other questions.”
“Like an interview?”
“Like a game. But no boring questions allowed.”
He finally cracked one eye open, glancing at you from where he was.
“That feels very subjective.”
Your hand lifted, pointing at him accusingly.
“If you ask me my favorite color, I’m taking the chips back.”
He immediately hugged the bag of chips to his chest, almost on instinct, shaking his head with a mock-serious frown.
“You’re not touching my chips.”
A quiet laugh slipped out of you before you settled back again.
“I’ll start.” you announced. “Hmm… what’s something people assume about you that’s wrong?”
He blinked, a little startled.
“Ahn... We’re starting like this? I thought the questions were supposed to get deeper over time. This is… pretty deep.”
“Don’t chicken out. Come on, answer,” you encouraged, giving him two thumbs up.
Shaking his head, he paused to think about your question.
God, there were so many answers. When had people ever assumed something about him that was actually correct? That should be the real question. He scratched the side of his head, biting the inside of his cheek…
Finally, he placed both hands behind his head and took a breath, like he was about to deliver something very personal.
“I’m an athlete. You didn’t ask that, but it matters for the answer. I’m a Formula 1 driver,” he said, glancing at you with a slightly nervous laugh.
You nodded, because, well, that wasn’t new information. You’d been living in the same building for months, and Monaco was known for its celebrities. He continued.
“And it’s a very ruthless, competitive environment. Most drivers tend to have that coldness, that whole ‘destroy the other guy’ mentality. People say that’s what a champion looks like. I think that’s bullshit.” You could feel the conviction behind his words, the quiet intensity. “People tend to think that because I don’t hide what I feel, whether in what I say or how I act, it makes me weak. Like I’m an easy target.”
A heavy silence followed. You swallowed before asking:
“And how do you prove them wrong?”
His tongue ran over his lower lip. He was still looking across the patio, but when he turned back to you, there was a quiet flicker of pride and satisfaction in his eyes.
“Well… I won the world championship last year.”
You looked at him for a second longer.
Blink.
Your neck was flushed now, your face too.
“Fuck. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
For a second, Lando just stared at you.
Then he let out a short, disbelieving laugh, looking away as he dragged a hand over his face.
“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath.
You were still looking at him like that.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
“Your turn to ask,” you said, your voice trying to return to normal as you sat up on the lounge chair, crossing your legs.
Lando followed your movement, lifting his chin slightly and nodding because, fuck, what else was he supposed to do?
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. My turn.”
You wiped your hands on your shorts and rested your elbows on your knees. Lando tilted his head slightly, studying you for a second longer than before.
There was something there now. Different.
A little dangerous.
A little interesting.
He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back on the lounge chair again.
“Do you just casually call people hot or should I take that seriously?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
You didn’t even hesitate.
“Depends,” you said, shrugging one shoulder.
“On what?”
“On whether I actually think the person’s hot or not. My opinion is always honest.”
“Right,” he muttered. “So I should be worried.”
“Maybe,” you said lightly.
Lando shifted, propping himself up on his elbow as he looked at you properly now, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Okay,” he said, pointing at you. “New game.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Don’t interrupt. I’m fixing this.”
You raised an eyebrow and frowned.
“Fixing what?”
He ignored your question and got up from the lounge chair. You followed him with your eyes, blinking, not quite understanding what he was doing until he stepped closer to your chair and motioned with his hand for you to make room. Oh…
You shifted back a little, and he lowered himself down carefully, making sure not to tip the chair over and send both of you crashing. Finally, he crossed his legs, now sitting so close they were practically brushing against yours, facing you.
“Fire questions,” he announced, looking straight into your eyes. “Whoever doesn’t have the guts to answer has to jump in the pool.”
You blinked.
“Hey, that’s… intense.”
Lando shrugged.
“I didn’t think I was talking to a coward.”
You opened your mouth in disbelief, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you looked away, turning your head to the side as you shook it. What the hell.
“So it’s a challenge, then, idiot,” you said. “Go on, hit me with your super dangerous question.”
“Alright,” he said. “Don’t overthink it.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“I’m already regretting this.”
“Good,” he said. “Ready?”
“No.”
He let out a laugh that went straight to your chest. That closeness was a problem…
“Have you ever stayed when you should’ve left?”
“What a shit question.”
“Yes or no.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Yes. My turn.” You narrowed your eyes, thinking. “Have you ever hurt someone without meaning to?”
Lando nodded.
“Yes,” he answered. “Are you good at letting people go?”
You paused, looking at him. You took a breath and shook your head.
“…No.”
Lando didn’t look away. Not this time. Something in your answer seemed to settle between you, quieter than before, but heavier.
He nodded once.
“Yeah,” he said, softer now. “Figured.”
You frowned slightly.
“Oh, you figured?”
A small smile crept onto the corner of his lips — of course that would be your reaction.
“You hate it when someone reads you that easily, don’t you?”
You scoffed softly, shifting your weight on the lounge chair as your fingers brushed absentmindedly against the fabric.
“Is that part of the game or…?”
“Just curious,” he said, watching you a little too closely.
You shook your head, lips pressing together for a second before you looked back at him.
“Then I don’t have to answer. My turn.”
He let out a laugh, his head falling back as his hand came up to drag over his face before he pointed at you.
“Hey, that’s very unfair of you.”
You tilted your head, completely unbothered, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
“You made the rules.”
“I did not make that rule,” he shot back, leaning forward a little.
“You made the game.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is.”
“It’s not.”
A small smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in just a fraction, mirroring him.
“You’re stalling.”
He exhaled through his nose, eyes dropping for a second before flicking back up to yours, a hint of a smile still there.
“I’m thinking.”
“Sure you are.”
A beat.
Then he leaned in slightly more, elbows resting on his knees, gaze steady.
“Fine,” he said. “Ask.”
You didn’t like the way he said it at all — direct, intense, looking straight at you. Instinctively, your gaze dropped to your hands, trying to keep him from noticing the faint flush that had crept onto your cheeks.
“Are you… are you…” you cleared your throat. “Are you used to people liking you?”
Lando tilted his head, trying to catch your gaze. When he realized you weren’t going to look at him, he let out a soft chuckle and nudged your leg with his knee, drawing your attention.
“Tricky question.”
“Wasn’t it supposed to be yes or no?”
He nodded.
“In this kind of… interaction we’re having, yeah. But in general, I think I tend to grow on people. Win them over.”
To look at him now, you had to lean back slightly.
“That answer was long.”
“Yeah…” he agreed with a half-smile.
For a moment, he didn’t ask anything.
His attention was entirely on you — on every little slip: the slight tremor in your fingers as you toyed with a loose thread on your shorts, the way your breathing felt just a little too measured to be natural, the small twitch in your arm when he moved — just to adjust himself, but you seemed to think otherwise.
“Are you nervous?” he asked quietly.
You shook your head too quickly.
“No…”
He lifted his hand just enough for the back of his index finger to brush against your bare thigh.
You shivered.
He noticed.
“Are you sure?”
Your hand came up immediately, catching his wrist and holding it there — firm enough to stop him from moving any further.
“Fuck off, Lando…”
The shift was so subtle you didn’t even realize it was happening, not until your grip loosened, and his hand turned in yours, fingers threading gently through your own.
Your breath caught halfway.
“I think you are,” he murmured, the pad of his thumb brushing softly over the back of your hand.
You rolled your eyes again, shaking your head, even as your fingers tightened instinctively around his.
You weren’t going to answer that.
He leaned in closer, slow this time, lowering his face toward yours until he was right there.
Too close.
“Because you think I’m hot,” he said.
You let out a quiet breath, your fingers still caught in his, but your gaze dropped for a second before you forced it back up.
“I didn’t say that.”
A small smile tugged at his lips, like he knew exactly what he was doing.
“You said you think I’m sexy.”
You shook your head, a little sharper this time, shifting slightly even though you didn’t actually pull away.
“I said what you said, the way you said it, was sexy. Get back to the game, Lando.”
He huffed a soft laugh, his thumb still brushing absentmindedly against your hand before he straightened just a little.
“Okay. My turn.” He tilted his head, watching you closely. “Do you think I’m hot?”
“Oh my God!” You let out, immediately looking away, your free hand coming up to your face like that might somehow hide you.
“Yes or no. This again?” he pressed, leaning in just enough to stay in your space.
You covered your mouth, shaking your head, cheeks puffing slightly as you let out a slow breath.
“I’ve known you for, like, an hour and a half…”
He let out a soft breath through his nose, shaking his head slightly like you were missing the point, his thumb brushing once against your hand before pressing lightly against your wrist.
“Irrelevant. I thought you were hot within ten minutes.”
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Shit. Could he even say things like that? Did he really have the right to turn your brain into complete mush and steal every word right out of your mouth?
You closed your eyes when he leaned in like that, lifting your hand to keep him exactly where he was.
“I think I can get the answer out of you,” he said, raising his free hand to catch the one you’d put up like it was any kind of barrier.
“No…” you protested, completely lacking any real strength.
You could feel him getting closer, his warm breath brushing against your neck. It was too much — way too much. God…
Lando leaned in a little more, his nose finally brushing against your skin. Your hand tightened around his instinctively, gripping him harder. He dragged his nose slowly along your neck until he reached the spot just behind your ear.
“You smell really, really good,” he murmured.
You shivered.
The torture continued. The bastard didn’t seem even slightly interested in stopping… not at all. Where his nose had been, Lando placed a soft kiss, tracing the same path with his lips until he reached your shoulder, still covered by your shirt.
“You’re so quiet…” he said, his mouth hovering over your shoulder.
You swallowed hard and bit down on your lower lip. When he let go of your hand, it felt like being dropped into the cold… You thought about complaining, thought about being pathetic enough to beg him to lace his fingers with yours again — but in the next second, his hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, warm against the feverish skin of your waist, firm enough to pull a breath from you.
“Asshole…” you murmured.
He let out a muffled laugh and brought his head closer to yours, his nose resting against your cheek.
“What was that?” he asked in a whisper.
His thumb slid slowly over the skin of your stomach, the touch soft as it moved up, reaching the underside of your chest — bare, not covered by any bra. He let out a low, rough breath.
“Fuck…” he exhaled, quieter now. “You’re not wearing anything.”
“Lando, please… please…” you begged, your body nearly collapsing over his.
He straightened just enough to hover above you, his forehead resting against yours. Your hand moved instinctively to the collar of his shirt, gripping it in pure desperation. You leaned in, searching for him, but Lando pulled back just enough to draw a soft, frustrated sound from you.
“You still haven’t answered the question…” he teased.
Your jaw tightened, your grip on his shirt tightening with it.
“You’re hot, Lando. So hot. An arrogant asshole…” you said, lifting your face again to meet his.
Lando bit down on his lower lip, a laugh slipping through, and didn’t resist. If anything, his hands moved to your body, guiding you out of your position until you were sitting in his lap.
Your lips met at the exact same time.
There was no hesitation, no one reaching for the other first — it was a collision.
Warm. Immediate. Right.
His hand slid higher along your back, fingers pressing into you as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss just enough to make your breath hitch.
Your lips parted instinctively, the kiss shifting — slower, heavier, no longer careful. His mouth moved against yours with a quiet certainty, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment and finally got it.
You reached for his free hand and guided it under your shirt, lifting it until it found the place he had neglected. Lando let out a breathy laugh against your lips and let his fingers adjust, learning the heat of your skin, the weight in his hands — and just as you were about to ask for more, he tightened his grip enough to make your back arch, a soft sound slipping out of you against his mouth.
That only made him kiss you harder.
It was an obscene kiss. He couldn’t even bring himself to think that someone might be watching. Didn’t want to think about anything. It was just your mouth on his, his hands on you, the pressure…
And then—
he stopped.
Not completely.
Just enough.
His lips still brushing yours, his breath uneven against your mouth, his hand still resting warm against your skin.
You didn’t pull away. Neither did he. But the urgency shifted, slowed. Your foreheads almost touched, your noses brushing as you both tried to catch your breath.
For a second, neither of you said anything.
The world rushed back in, just a little — the quiet of the pool, the night air against your skin, the sound of your breathing too loud between you. His thumb moved, slow this time, tracing a distracted line against your side.
“…fuck,” he exhaled softly, more to himself than to you.
You let out a shaky breath, one hand still gripping his shirt like you needed something solid to hold onto. You didn’t trust your own body to move just yet. Your forehead rested against his, your eyes still closed.
“Yeah… fuck.”
He pulled you closer, arms tightening around you like he needed the contact just as much to steady himself.
“You’re coming with me,” he said.
You raised an eyebrow, pulling back just enough to look at him.
“To where?”
“My apartment.” He said it simply, like it was obvious. “You don’t want to be anywhere near Ellie right now and…” He hesitated for half a second, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Well. We have something to finish.”
Your eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no real resistance in it.
“Oh, do we?” you asked, voice quieter now, but edged with that same teasing tone.
His thumb brushed once against your side again, absentminded.
“Yeah,” he said, just as soft. “We do.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
A quiet, shared laugh slipped out between you, soft and a little disbelieving, as you both pulled away slowly — like neither of you was in any real hurry to break the contact completely.
You stood first. He followed. You both started walking, side by side. Close, but not touching.
The pool lights flickered softly behind you, the water settling back into stillness like nothing had happened.
Neither of you looked back.
The apartment was quiet when you got there, except for the sound of the shower running and oil sizzling in the kitchen. Lando hung his key on the holder and stretched his neck slightly, trying to see what was going on before raising a finger for you to wait.
“Oh, you’re here! We thought you were asleep,” Max said from the sink.
He was wearing a robe — and apparently nothing underneath. Lando was just about to tell him to put something on and try to sneak you discreetly to his room, but you, curious and stubborn, leaned in between them — and Max saw you.
His eyebrows shot up immediately.
“Uh? Hello,” he said, waving the spatula.
Lando froze.
Of course this would happen.
“Max—” he started, already moving slightly in front of you like that might somehow undo the situation. “What are you doing?”
Max blinked once, then glanced between the two of you, clearly piecing things together a little too quickly.
“I live here,” he said slowly, like that was the most obvious answer in the world. Then his eyes flicked back to you. “You… don’t.”
You let out a small, awkward laugh, shifting your weight.
“Hi.”
That was the exact moment the shower turned off.
Lando’s eyes went wide. This was about to get very weird, very fast.
“Greeeaaat. Okay! You’ve met. Lovely. Bye, Max. Ha ha.” Lando said, hands already on your shoulders. He turned you toward his bedroom door, and with a laugh, you let him guide you along.
“We’ll talk properly later!” you called out, and Max answered with a quick “Alright!” before going back to whatever he was doing with the spatula.
The last thing you heard was a female voice asking Max who he had been talking to—right before Lando shut his bedroom door.
“He seems nice.”
“He’s not.”
You laughed.
“I don’t mind that he saw, just so you know.”
Lando’s shoulders dropped, tension easing out of him as he stepped closer again. You took a step back on instinct, your back hitting the door with a soft thud.
He smiled.
“Good. You’ll have plenty of time to get properly introduced later.”
You tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing in amusement.
“Oh? Planning on making this a regular occurrence?”
He pretended to think about it for a second.
“We’ll see,” he said finally, tone light, teasing. Then his gaze dropped — slow, deliberate — before coming back up to yours. “Right now, though…”
A beat.
“I want to see your clothes on the floor.”
You let out a surprised laugh — but it barely had time to settle before his hands were on your hips, pulling you forward into a kiss that knocked the air right out of you.
