Hannah convinced you to come to the game a week later, insisting that supporting Justin meant supporting the whole team, which conveniently included Garrett, though she didn’t say that part out loud. You didn’t put up much of a fight. You liked watching him play, more than you’d ever admit out loud, the way he moved different on the ice, sharper, more focused, nothing like the easy, teasing version of him you’d gotten used to off the rink.
The three of you found seats near the boards, Allie already halfway through a soft pretzel before the puck had even dropped, and you settled in, scanning the ice until you found Garrett doing warmup laps, and he caught your eye almost immediately, flashing a grin before skating off toward his teammates.
“He’s so obvious,” Allie said, not looking up from her pretzel. “Like, painfully obvious.”
“He is not obvious.”
“He looked directly at you the second he stepped on the ice. That’s not subtle, babe.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t fully suppress the small smile tugging at your mouth, watching him settle into position as the game got underway.
It was a good game, close and tense in a way that had the whole crowd on edge by the third period, and you found yourself getting swept up in it more than you expected, half out of your seat during a breakaway that ended in a goal, Garrett’s assist on the play sending the crowd into a roar. He’d looked up into the stands afterward, finding you immediately, grinning wide enough that it made your chest ache in the best way.
The team won, barely, and afterward you waited near the entrance with Hannah and Allie for the players to file out, the post-game buzz still thick in the air.
That’s when Kendall found you.
She approached with the same easy, practiced confidence as last time, blonde hair falling perfectly despite the cold, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Good game, right?” she said, sliding up beside you like you were old friends. “Garrett played really well tonight.”
“He did.” You kept your voice neutral, unsure why your stomach had already started tightening.
“He’s good at that. Making people feel like the center of attention.” Kendall’s smile stayed easy, conversational, though something calculated sat underneath it. “It’s kind of his whole thing, actually. Very charming in the moment. Doesn’t always mean much beyond that, though.”
“I’m aware of his reputation.”
“I’m sure you are. Everyone is.” She examined her nails briefly, casual, like she wasn’t dropping something deliberately. “It’s funny, though. He does this thing where he makes you feel like you’re different, like you’re the exception. Said something similar to me once, actually. About how I wasn’t like other girls, how he actually liked talking to me.” She shrugged. “Then a week later I heard him telling his friends I was fun, but nothing serious. Not really his type long-term, just someone to pass the time with.”
Something cold settled low in your stomach, the words landing far too close to a memory you’d spent a year trying to bury.
“Anyway.” Kendall smiled again, sickly sweet. “Just thought you’d want to know. In case the pattern’s still going. Wouldn’t want you finding out the hard way, like I did.”
She walked off before you could respond, leaving you standing there, the noise of the post-game crowd suddenly too loud, too much, the old memory rushing back up with a force you hadn’t braced for. She’s cute, I guess. Not really my type, though. Too intense. The words you’d carried silently for over a year, the ones you’d never told anyone, sitting right there in your chest again, as sharp as the night you’d first heard them.
“Hey.” Hannah’s voice cut through the noise, concerned. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I’m fine.” Your voice came out tighter than you meant it to, though you didn’t get the chance to elaborate before Garrett appeared from the locker room hallway, still riding the high of the win, grinning as he jogged over.
“Hey, we’re all heading to Malone’s, you in?” He reached for your hand, easy and familiar, but you pulled back slightly before he could take it, some old defensiveness slamming back into place.
“Yeah. Sure.” Your voice came out flatter than you meant it to, and something in his expression flickered, confusion replacing the earlier excitement, though he didn’t push, letting you fall into step with Hannah and Allie instead as the group made its way toward the diner.
You kept your distance the whole walk over, and through most of the meal too, sitting at the far end of the booth beside Hannah instead of next to Garrett, deflecting his attempts at conversation with short, clipped answers, laughing a beat too late at things that would’ve made you laugh easily an hour ago. He noticed. You could tell by the way his jaw kept tightening slightly every time you brushed off another question, the confusion in his eyes deepening into something more hurt as the night went on.
By the time the group started splitting off, you were already halfway out the door, murmuring something about being tired, not waiting to see who might follow.
You made it almost two blocks before you heard footsteps jogging up behind you.
“Are you seriously just going to walk away without saying anything?” Garrett’s voice cut through the cold air, sharper than you’d heard it in a long time.
You stopped, turning to face him, some old instinct to bolt colliding with the exhaustion of trying to keep everything contained all night. “I told you I was tired.”
“You’ve been ignoring me for two hours, and now you’re bailing without a word. That’s not tired, that’s you shutting me out completely, and I’d like to know why.” His voice had an edge you weren’t used to, frustration finally breaking through the careful patience he’d been holding onto at Malone’s.
“I don’t want to do this right now.”
“Well, I do. Because I sat in that booth for an hour trying to figure out what I did, running through everything I possibly could’ve said or done wrong, and you wouldn’t even look at me.” He was closer now, jaw tight, something raw and hurt sitting underneath the anger. “So no, I don’t think you get to just walk away like this is nothing.”
“It’s not nothing! That’s the problem!” The words came out louder than you meant them to, months of carefully managed calm finally cracking. “Kendall talked to me tonight. She told me you have a pattern. That you make people feel special and then talk about them like they’re nothing to your friends the second you’re bored.”
Garrett’s expression shifted, tension flooding in fast. “And you believed her?”
“I didn’t have to believe her, Garrett, because I already knew!” Your voice cracked, everything finally spilling out at once. “There was a party almost a year ago. Before any of this. You were charming to me, just like you probably were to Kendall, and then I overheard you telling your friends I was cute, I guess, but too intense. Not really your type. I’ve carried that around for a year, and tonight Kendall basically confirmed it’s just who you are.”
“I don’t remember that.” His voice had gone lower, stunned, though the frustration hadn’t fully drained out of it. “You’re seriously going to stand here and compare something I don’t even remember saying to what’s happening between us right now?”
“Maybe it’s the exact same pattern and I’m just watching it happen in real time!”
“That’s insane.” His voice rose again, sharper now, hurt bleeding into anger. “You’ve spent the last two hours icing me out over something that happened before I even knew your name properly, and instead of just telling me at the rink, you let me sit there for an entire dinner wondering what I did wrong.”
“I didn’t know how to say it there!”
“You could’ve said literally anything! ‘I need a minute,’ ‘something’s wrong,’ anything besides going completely cold and making me feel like I did something horrible without even knowing what it was!” He dragged a hand through his hair, clearly furious now, though there was something devastated underneath it too. “Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching you shut down like that, having no idea if I’d hurt you or if you were just done with all of this?”
“I don’t know what I am right now, okay?” Tears were streaming freely now, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. “I don’t know how to just turn off a year of being scared of exactly this. Of you deciding I’m not worth the effort the second it gets complicated.”
“I’m standing right here! I chased you two blocks in the cold because I couldn’t stand the idea of you thinking I didn’t care enough to come after you!” His voice cracked slightly on the last part, something raw slipping through. “And you’re still acting like I’m going to disappear the second you turn your back.”
“Maybe I don’t know how not to!”
The two of you stood there, breathing hard, the argument hanging in the cold air between you, both of you raw and exposed in a way neither of you had let the other see before.
“I can’t keep proving myself against a ghost,” Garrett said finally, quieter now, exhausted. “I can’t fix something that happened a year ago, something I don’t even remember. All I can do is show up for you now, and if that’s not enough, I don’t know what else you want from me.”
“I don’t know what I want either.” Your voice had gone small, the anger finally burning out into something more hollow. “I just know I couldn’t sit there tonight pretending I was fine.”
Garrett was quiet for a long moment, jaw tight, something devastated sitting behind his eyes. “I need some space too, honestly. I don’t really know what to do with any of this right now.”
The words landed harder than you expected, some part of you having assumed he’d keep chasing regardless, and the realization that he might not this time settled cold and unfamiliar in your chest.
“Okay,” you said quietly.
Neither of you said anything else. He turned first, walking back the way he’d come without looking back, and you stood there alone on the sidewalk for a long moment before finally continuing toward your dorm, the fight replaying over and over, the first time either of you had actually raised your voice at the other since everything had started, and it left something unsettled and aching in its place that felt very different from the bickering you’d once mistaken for hate.
You made it back to your dorm on autopilot, barely registering the walk, the cold, any of it, the fight still ringing in your ears the whole way. By the time you pushed through the door, the tears you’d been holding back on the sidewalk broke free completely, and you didn’t even manage to get your coat off before your legs gave out slightly, sinking down onto the edge of your bed.
Hannah and Allie were both there, having gotten back from Malone’s before you, and they were on their feet instantly, expressions shifting from confusion to alarm the second they saw your face.
“Hey, hey.” Hannah dropped down beside you immediately, arm coming around your shoulders. “What happened? You left so fast, and then Garrett went after you and neither of you came back”
“We had a fight.” Your voice came out wrecked, barely holding together. “Like, an actual fight. We’ve never done that before. Not really. Not like this.”
“About what?” Allie crouched in front of you, worry written all over her face, all traces of her usual teasing gone.
“Kendall.” You wiped at your face, though the tears kept coming anyway. “She told me some stuff after the game, and I just, I shut down. I didn’t say anything the whole time we were at Malone’s. And Garrett noticed, obviously, and he followed me when I left, and then it just, exploded.”
“What did she say?” Hannah’s voice had gone careful now, protective.
You told them, the whole thing, the old memory finally spilling out in full, the fight, Garrett’s voice cracking when he said he’d chased you two blocks, the way he’d said he needed space too, right before he turned and walked away. By the time you finished, your voice had gone hoarse, exhaustion pulling at every part of you.
“Oh, babe.” Hannah pulled you into a proper hug, and you let yourself sink into it, some of the tension in your chest finally starting to loosen now that it was out. “I’m so sorry. That’s a lot to be carrying, and then to have Kendall dump it back on you like that, tonight of all nights.”
“I don’t know if I handled it right.” You pulled back slightly, wiping at your face again. “I probably should’ve just told him at the rink instead of freezing him out for two hours. I think that’s part of why it got so bad.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you needed time to even figure out what you were feeling before you could say it out loud.” Allie’s voice was gentler than usual, no teasing in it at all. “You can’t always articulate something the second it happens, especially something that’s been sitting in you for a year.”
“He said he needed space too.” Your voice cracked again, the words landing heavier the second time around. “I don’t know what that means. If that means he’s actually stepping back, or if he just needs a night, or”
“I don’t think you’re going to figure that out tonight,” Hannah said gently, squeezing your shoulder. “I think tonight you just need to breathe, and let yourself be upset, and we can figure out the rest tomorrow. Okay?”
You nodded, though the uncertainty sat heavy in your chest regardless, the image of Garrett walking away without looking back playing over and over no matter how hard you tried to push it aside.
You woke up the next morning with a headache from crying, the kind of foggy, hollow feeling that came from too many emotions and not enough sleep. Hannah and Allie were both still asleep in your room, having stayed the night rather than leave you alone, and for a moment you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying the fight until it felt less like a memory and more like a bruise you kept pressing on.
Then, slowly, you felt something in you start to shut the door on it.
It was familiar, in a way. The same instinct you’d leaned on for a year before any of this started, the one that let you turn hurt into indifference, vulnerability into distance. You’d gotten good at it once. You could get good at it again.
By the time Hannah stirred an hour later, you were already up, showered, dressed, moving through your morning like it was any other day.
“Hey.” Hannah blinked at you, sitting up slowly. “You’re, up. And dressed. How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” You zipped your bag, not quite meeting her eyes. “I have an early lecture.”
“You don’t have to go if you’re not up for it. I can text your professor something, or”
“I’m fine, Han. Really.” Your voice came out flat, controlled, nothing like the wreck you’d been the night before. “It happened. It’s not the end of the world. I’ll figure it out.”
Hannah studied you for a second, something uncertain crossing her face. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay just because it’s daylight now.”
“I’m not pretending.” You slung your bag over your shoulder, already halfway to the door. “I just don’t want to talk about it right now. I have to go.”
You left before she could push further, walking to class with your headphones in, not really listening to anything, just needing the noise to drown out your own thoughts. You told yourself it was fine. You told yourself you’d been managing perfectly well before Garrett, that you didn’t actually need whatever this was, that going back to how things used to be wouldn’t be that hard.
It mostly worked, for a few hours. You made it through your lecture without really absorbing a word of it, made it through a shift at Malone’s on autopilot, smiling at customers, taking orders, existing in the shape of yourself without actually feeling much of anything underneath it. Numb felt better than the alternative. Numb you could manage.
Hannah caught up with you that evening, waiting outside Malone’s when your shift ended, arms crossed against the cold.
“Okay, I’ve given you the whole day,” she said, falling into step beside you. “But I don’t buy the fine act. Not for one second.”
“I’m handling it.”
“You’re not handling it, you’re doing the thing.” Hannah’s voice was gentle but firm. “The thing where you decide it’s easier to feel nothing than feel something painful. I watched you do it before. I’m not going to just stand here and watch you do it again.”
“Maybe it’s easier this way.”
“Easier isn’t the same as better.” She stopped walking, turning to face you properly. “You cried for an hour last night. That wasn’t nothing. You don’t get to just decide today that none of it matters because feeling it is inconvenient.”
“I’m not saying it doesn’t matter.” Your voice cracked slightly despite your best efforts to keep it even. “I’m saying I don’t know how else to survive it right now except by not feeling it at all.”
Hannah’s expression softened at that, some of the frustration giving way to something more worried. “That’s not surviving it. That’s just delaying it. And it’s going to catch up to you eventually, probably at the worst possible time.”
You didn’t have a response for that, mostly because some small, quiet part of you knew she was right, even as the rest of you clung to the numbness like it was the only thing keeping you upright.
“I just need a little more time being like this,” you said finally, quiet. “I’m not ready to actually feel all of it yet.”
Hannah watched you for a long moment, clearly torn between pushing further and letting it go, before she finally sighed, looping her arm through yours instead. “Okay. But I’m not leaving you alone in it. Numb or not, I’m still here.”
A few days later
Hannah found Garrett in the library a few days later, hunched over a textbook he clearly wasn’t reading, phone face down beside him like he was actively avoiding it. She’d texted him about a study session for their shared econ class, mostly as an excuse to actually talk to him, and he’d agreed almost too quickly, like he’d been looking for a reason to leave his room.
“You look terrible,” Hannah said, sliding into the seat across from him.
“Thanks. Really building my confidence here.”
“I mean it kindly.” She pulled out her own notes, though she wasn’t really planning on studying either. “How are you doing? Actually.”
Garrett exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “I’ve been better.”
“She’s not doing great either, for what it’s worth.” Hannah watched his expression carefully, catching the way something flickered across his face at that, quick and pained before he tried to smooth it back over. “She’s been throwing herself into work and classes. Barely eating properly. Won’t really talk about it.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, just nodded, eyes dropping to the closed textbook in front of him.
“I don’t really know what to do, Hannah,” he added a moment later, quieter. “I keep replaying the fight over and over, and I don’t know if reaching out makes it better or worse. I told her I needed space, and I meant it in the moment, but now it just feels like I made everything worse.”
“Did you mean it? The needing space part?”
“I guess.” He shrugged, not really looking at her.
Hannah frowned slightly, waiting for him to say more, but he didn’t, just sat there, quiet and withdrawn in a way that wasn’t really like him.
“Okay, that’s not really an answer.” She leaned forward. “Do you actually want space from her, or did you just say that because you were hurt and didn’t know what else to say?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re right.” He said it flatly, no real conviction behind it, and Hannah’s frustration flickered at the lack of pushback.
“That’s not what I asked. I asked what you actually think, not what sounds agreeable.”
“I think whatever you think is probably right.” He rubbed at his eyes, exhausted. “You know her better than I do. If you think I messed it up, I probably messed it up.”
“Garrett.” Hannah’s voice sharpened slightly, some genuine irritation slipping through now. “I need you to actually engage with this instead of just agreeing with whatever I say. That’s not helpful to either of you.”
“I’m not trying to be unhelpful.”
“You’re being passive. There’s a difference.” She sat back, studying him carefully. “You’ve barely said a real sentence since I sat down. You’re just nodding along to everything like you don’t actually have an opinion, and that’s honestly kind of scaring me, because it’s not like you at all.”
Garrett was quiet for a moment, something flickering behind his eyes, before he finally exhaled, some of the flat resignation cracking slightly. “I don’t know what to say that actually matters right now. Every version of an opinion I have just circles back to the same thing, that I hurt her without meaning to, and I don’t know how to fix something I don’t even fully understand.”
“That’s better. That’s an actual answer.” Hannah’s voice softened slightly. “Do you want to fix it, though? That’s the real question. Not whether you think you can, just whether you want to.”
“Of course I want to.” His voice cracked slightly, more emotion slipping through than he’d let show all conversation. “I just don’t know if she wants me to. I don’t know if she even wants to hear from me right now.”
“I think she’s scared you don’t want to hear from her, honestly.” Hannah studied him carefully. “You’re sitting here agreeing with everything like you’ve already decided this is over, and meanwhile she’s doing the exact same thing on her end, assuming you’ve already checked out. You’re both just quietly giving up in parallel instead of actually talking to each other.”
Garrett sat with that for a long moment, something shifting behind his eyes, more present now than the flat agreement from earlier. “I haven’t given up.”
“Then stop acting like you have.” Hannah reached across the table, squeezing his arm gently. “I don’t think either of you actually wants this to be over. I think you’re both just really bad at being scared out loud.”
Garrett looked up at her, something raw and uncertain finally breaking through the earlier numbness. “What do I even say to her? ‘Sorry I got mad, I still don’t remember the thing that started all of this, but I miss you’ feels insufficient.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be perfect. Maybe it just has to be honest.” Hannah shrugged slightly. “I don’t think she’s expecting some big speech. I think she’s expecting you to disappear, honestly, based on the way she’s been acting the past few days. Proving her wrong about that might matter more than finding the exact right words.”
Garrett sat with that for a long moment, something shifting behind his eyes, thoughtful now instead of just exhausted. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Hannah watched him carefully, some of the earlier tension in her chest easing slightly at the shift in his expression. “Just, don’t wait too long to figure it out. I don’t think either of you can keep doing this forever without it catching up eventually.”
“Yeah.” He nodded slowly, glancing down at his phone still sitting face down on the table, like he was finally considering actually picking it up. “I hear you.”
He was quiet for a second, gathering his things slowly, before he glanced back up at Hannah, something more serious settling over his expression.
“Can you do something for me?”
“Depends what it is.”
“Just, keep an eye on her. For me.” His voice had gone quieter, more careful. “I know that’s probably weird to ask, given everything, and I’m not trying to use you as some kind of messenger or spy or whatever. I just, I know you’re closer to her than anyone, and I want to make sure someone’s actually watching out for her while I figure out what to do.”
“I always keep an eye on her, Garrett. She’s my best friend.” Hannah’s voice softened slightly, though there was no judgment in it.
“I know. I just mean, more than usual. She’s not eating properly, you said. And she’s throwing herself into everything so she doesn’t have to sit still. I don’t want her disappearing into that and nobody catching it in time.” He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly a little uncomfortable with how much he was admitting. “I care about her a lot. Probably more than I’ve let either of you fully see. I just don’t have the right to check on her myself right now, not after everything, so I’m asking you to do it instead.”
Something in Hannah’s expression softened further at that, genuine warmth breaking through the earlier concern. “Yeah. Of course. I’ll take care of her.”
“Thank you.” He exhaled, some of the tension in his shoulders easing slightly, like just saying it out loud had helped. Then, quieter, almost hesitant: “Are you okay? With all of this. I know it probably puts you in a weird spot, caught in the middle of both of us.”
Hannah blinked, surprised by the question, something touched crossing her face. “I’m okay. Tired, maybe. It’s hard watching two people I care about hurting and not really being able to fix it for either of you.”
“Yeah. I get that.” He gave her a small, genuine smile, the first real one she’d seen from him in days. “For what it’s worth, thank you. For actually caring about both of us instead of picking a side.”
“There’s no sides to pick. You’re both being ridiculous in exactly the same way.” She said it lightly, though there was real affection underneath it, and Garrett let out a short laugh, some of the heaviness in the air finally breaking.
“Fair.” He slung his bag over his shoulder, standing, though he lingered a moment longer. “Seriously, though. Thank you. For today. For actually being honest with me instead of just letting me spiral.”
“Anytime.” Hannah smiled, watching him head toward the library exit, something a little steadier in his posture now than when he’d walked in. She sat there a moment longer after he left, gathering her own things slowly, already thinking about how she was going to check in on you tonight without making it feel like an interrogation, determined to hold up her end of the promise she’d just made.
authors note: hey loves🤍 i hope you enjoy this chapter as much I loved writing it. I’m still in a beginner phase so all of this is very new to me. Lmk if there’s anything i can improve on 🤍
You stood there a second longer, staring at the spot where Garrett had been, before you finally shook yourself out of it and grabbed your cup off the counter. Get it together. It was one conversation. One conversation that happened to feel like it lasted an hour and ten seconds at the same time.
But it wasn’t really just one conversation, was it. It never was, with him.
Your mind dragged you back before you could stop it, to a different party almost a year ago now, before Hannah and Garrett had ever cooked up their whole arrangement, before you’d built your entire personality around not being able to stand him. Back then, you hadn’t known him well at all, just a name attached to a face people whispered about, the hockey player everyone wanted and nobody kept.
He’d found you by the drink table that night too, funny how some things never changed. He’d been charming then, too, easy and warm, asking about your major, laughing at something you said like you were the only person in the room worth listening to. You remembered feeling flattered despite yourself, wondering if maybe the rumors about him were exaggerated.
Then he’d gotten pulled away by his friends, and you’d gone to find the bathroom, and on your way back you’d heard his voice through the crowd, low and careless, talking to Dean and a couple of guys you didn’t recognize.
“She’s cute, I guess,” he’d said, and you’d stopped without meaning to, some instinct telling you to listen. “Not really my type, though. A little too intense. She’ll probably want to talk about her feelings or something.”
The guys had laughed, and Garrett had laughed along with them, already looking past you, already onto the next thing, and you’d stood there feeling stupid for the first time in a long time, for believing even for a second that his attention had meant anything.
You’d never told him you heard it. Never told anyone, actually, not even Hannah. It was easier to just decide you didn’t like him after that, easier to turn every interaction into an argument so you never had to feel that specific kind of stupid again.
He didn’t even remember it. You were fairly sure of that. It had probably meant nothing to him, one comment among hundreds he’d made about hundreds of girls, forgotten the second it left his mouth. But you remembered every word.
Which was, you supposed, part of why the last ten minutes in that kitchen had rattled you so badly. Because for a second there, with the way he’d looked at you, the way he’d said maybe I like arguing with you like he actually meant it, you’d almost let yourself forget. Almost let yourself believe it again.
You weren’t going to make that mistake twice.
“There you are.” Allie appeared out of nowhere, hair slightly messed up, lipstick a little smudged. “Where’s Han?”
“Cornered by Justin. I haven’t seen her since.” You forced your voice back into something normal, pushing the memory back down where it belonged.
Allie’s eyes went wide, delighted. “Okay, wait, that’s huge.” She grabbed your arm, already pulling you further into the party.
“Wait, so you two were alone in the kitchen this whole time?” Allie’s grin sharpened immediately. “And you’re just now mentioning this?”
“There’s nothing to mention. We were talking. It happens.”
“Uh huh.” Allie clearly wasn’t buying a word of it, but before she could push further, Hannah came weaving through the crowd toward you both, cheeks flushed, eyes bright in a way you hadn’t seen in weeks.
“Oh my god.” Allie forgot about you entirely, grabbing Hannah’s arm. “Look at her face.”
Hannah reached you both, practically vibrating. “Okay. Okay, so. A lot happened.”
“Spill.” Allie was already bouncing.
Hannah took a breath, like she was trying to keep herself calm and failing completely. “He said he needed to talk to me because he ‘couldn’t do this anymore.’”
Your stomach dropped a little on her behalf. “Han”
“No, wait, let me finish.” She grabbed your hands, practically shaking. “He said he couldn’t keep watching me with Garrett. That every time he sees us together he wants to say something and he’s been chickening out for weeks, and he just needed to know if it was real. Like, actually real.”
Allie shrieked, drawing a few glances from nearby. “SHUT UP.”
“So what did you say?” you asked, already knowing your best friend well enough to guess, but needing to hear it anyway.
“I panicked.” Hannah laughed, covering her face. “I just kind of stood there. And then he said if I didn’t feel the same way that was fine, he just needed to stop pretending he didn’t notice me.”
“Hannah.” You squeezed her hands. “Please tell me you said something back.”
“I told him it wasn’t real. Me and Garrett.” Her smile was doing something you hadn’t seen in months, soft and a little disbelieving. “And then he kissed me.”
Allie actually screamed this time, pulling Hannah into a hug, the two of them jumping slightly, and you found yourself laughing along with them, genuinely happy for her even with the memory from ten minutes ago still sitting uneasy in your chest.
“Okay, but wait.” Hannah pulled back suddenly, eyes narrowing at you. “If Justin knows it’s not real now… does Garrett know he knows?”
You blinked. “What?”
“Like, is the fake dating thing even still happening? Does Garrett know Justin and I are, um” she gestured vaguely, cheeks going pink, “a thing now?”
The realization hit you slowly. If Justin knew, and Hannah wasn’t pretending anymore, that meant the whole arrangement between her and Garrett was basically over. Which meant there was no more reason for you to be forced into his orbit at every single hockey house function from here on out.
Which should have felt like relief. It mostly did.
“I have no idea,” you admitted. “Somebody should probably tell him.”
Allie’s smirk came back instantly, wicked and knowing. “Oh, I think you should tell him.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re literally right here. He’s probably still playing beer pong. It’ll take two seconds.” Allie was already nudging you toward the living room. “Go be the messenger.”
You shot Hannah a look, silently begging for backup, but she just shrugged, biting back a smile. “She kind of has a point.”
You groaned, but you let Allie push you anyway, telling yourself it didn’t mean anything, that you could walk up to Garrett and deliver one piece of information and walk away exactly like you always did, unaffected, in control, the way you’d trained yourself to be around him for the better part of a year.
The living room was louder than the kitchen had been, people crowded around a beer pong table set up on what used to be a coffee table. You spotted him almost immediately, sleeves pushed up, laughing at something a teammate said.
You almost turned back around. Almost.
Garrett looked up right as you reached the edge of the table, and something shifted in his expression when he saw it was you, that smirk faltering into something more unreadable for half a second before it came back.
“Miss me already?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” You crossed your arms. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
That got a couple of low oooohs from his teammates, which he ignored, tossing the ping pong ball to the guy next to him. “Cover for me.”
He followed you a few steps away, back toward the hallway, out of earshot of the game.
“So.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you. “What’s so urgent you had to pull me out of a winning game?”
“Justin knows.” You said it fast, like ripping off a bandaid. “About you and Hannah. That it’s not real.”
His arms uncrossed slightly, posture straightening. “What?”
“He pulled her aside tonight. Told her he couldn’t keep watching her with you. She told him the truth.” You shrugged, watching his face carefully. “And then he kissed her.”
For a second, Garrett just stared at you, processing. Then, slowly, something like relief spread across his face, real and unguarded. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Congrats, I guess. Mission accomplished.”
“Damn.” He ran a hand through his hair, laughing under his breath. “That’s really good, actually. She’s been so stressed about this whole thing.”
You softened slightly despite yourself, watching him. “You actually care about her. Like, really care.”
“She’s one of my best friends.” He looked at you like the question was strange. “Of course I care.”
“I know. I just.” You crossed your arms tighter, something in you pulling back on instinct. “I guess I figured there wasn’t much underneath the surface with you, honestly.”
Something flickered across his face, and for a second you thought he might push back on that, might ask what you meant. He didn’t. “Yeah, well. People think a lot of things about me that aren’t exactly accurate.”
“Do they.”
“You’d know better than most.” His voice had an edge now, not quite hostile, but close. “Seeing as you’ve apparently had me figured out since the day we met.”
You didn’t have a response for that, mostly because it was true, and the memory from the kitchen table a year ago sat there behind your teeth, threatening to come out, and you swallowed it back down like you always did.
“I should get back,” you said instead.
“Yeah.” Something unreadable crossed his face. “Probably should.”
Neither of you moved for a second, the space between you charged with something you didn’t have a name for, before you finally turned and walked away, leaving him standing there in the hallway, watching you go.
You found Allie and Hannah again a few minutes later, tucked into a corner of the living room, and let yourself get absorbed back into their orbit, grateful for something to focus on besides the tight, unresolved feeling still sitting in your chest.
By the time Allie declared it was time to go, well past one in the morning, you were more than ready, tired in the specific way that came from holding yourself together all night. You glanced back once before stepping outside, some old habit you couldn’t quite break, and caught Garrett watching you from across the room, his expression unreadable in the low light. Neither of you did anything about it.
Class the next morning felt different than it used to, though you couldn’t quite pin down why until you slid into your usual seat and Garrett walked in a few minutes later, scanning the room the way he always did. His eyes found yours briefly, something unreadable passing between you, before he headed to his usual spot across the room instead of anywhere near you.
You told yourself that was fine. Preferred, even.
It didn’t feel like either of those things.
By the time class ended, you gathered your things quickly, telling yourself you were just in a hurry, definitely not disappointed that he hadn’t sat next to you today.
“Hey.”
You turned, and there he was, waiting by the door, hands in his pockets, that familiar smirk already creeping back in.
“Hey,” you said back, trying to sound unaffected.
“You got a minute?”
“I have a shift soon.”
“This won’t take long.” He fell into step beside you as you both headed out of the lecture hall. “You seemed weird last night. After the whole Justin and Hannah thing.”
“I wasn’t weird.”
“You were extremely weird. You practically ran out of that hallway like I’d said something offensive.” He glanced sideways at you, teasing but curious. “Did I offend you? Should I be worried?”
“You didn’t offend me.” You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, avoiding his eyes slightly. “I just had a lot on my mind. Hannah, mostly.”
“Right. Hannah.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but let it go easily enough, falling into an easy rhythm beside you instead. “So are congratulations in order for me too, by the way? Since I basically engineered the whole Justin situation.”
“You did not engineer anything. You agreed to a fake dating scheme because Hannah asked nicely.”
“I like to think I contributed some strategic genius along the way.”
“You forgot your own jersey number last week during warmups.”
“That’s unrelated.”
“Is it, though?”
“Completely unrelated incident.” He grinned, clearly enjoying himself now, some of last night’s tension fully gone from his expression. “Anyway. Since Hannah’s basically retired from our fake relationship, guess that frees up my schedule considerably.”
“Congratulations. However will you fill the void.”
“I’ve got some ideas.” He bumped his shoulder against yours, casual, easy. “So,” Garrett said, matching your pace easily as you crossed campus, “hypothetically, if I asked you what your coffee order was, would you actually tell me, or make me guess?”
“Depends how good your guess is.”
“I’m very intuitive.”
“You once thought I drank oat milk lattes.”
“That was one time.”
“It was extremely specific for a guess.”
“I stand by my instincts.” He nudged you slightly, grinning. “Fine. Tell me your actual order, then. For research purposes.”
“Why do you need research purposes?”
“So next time I show up at Malone’s, I can order for you and look impressively competent.”
You debated holding out just to be difficult, but the easy warmth of the conversation won out. “Iced vanilla latte. Oat milk, actually, so you weren’t that far off.”
“See? Intuitive.” He looked entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m filing that away.”
“Don’t get cocky about it.”
“Too late. Extremely cocky now.” He grinned, hands in his pockets, walking a little closer than strictly necessary. “So while we’re doing research. Favorite color?”
“Why do you need my favorite color?”
“I’m building a whole profile. It’s very thorough.”
“That’s mildly concerning.”
“It’s charming, actually. You’ll come around.” He bumped your shoulder again, clearly enjoying himself. “Come on. Humor me.”
“Green.”
“Noted.” He nodded seriously, like he was filing it away in some mental folder. “Mine’s blue, for the record. Since we’re sharing.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were clearly about to.”
“I was not.”
“You had the look. The ‘I’m curious but too proud to ask’ look.” He grinned wider at your expression. “I know your looks now.”
“You’ve known me for six months. You don’t know my looks.”
“I know this one.” He gestured vaguely at your face. “That’s your ‘I’m annoyed but also a little charmed’ look.”
“I am not charmed.”
“You’re extremely charmed. I can see it happening in real time.” He laughed, easy and warm, and despite yourself, you felt your own smile tugging through, the walk to Malone’s passing far quicker than it usually did with him talking the whole way.
You reached the diner a few minutes later, and he held the door open for you, still grinning.
“So,” he said, following you in despite having no reason to. “Iced vanilla latte, oat milk. I’m gonna remember that.”
“We’ll see.”
“I have an excellent memory.”
“Sure you do.”
“Rude. I’m establishing myself as reliable here.” He leaned against the counter as you moved to clock in, watching you with an easy, unbothered kind of attention that made your stomach do something small and unfamiliar. “I’ll prove it. Next time I see you, I’m ordering that exact drink and handing it to you like a peace offering.”
“A peace offering for what?”
“For the general concept of me being annoying.” He shrugged, grinning. “Feels like a good baseline to start from.”
You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head as you disappeared behind the counter to start your shift, though you caught yourself glancing back at him more than once, finding him still watching you, still smiling, in absolutely no hurry to leave.
Almost two weeks passed like that, easy in a way you hadn’t expected, Garrett walking you to Malone’s most days, showing up in class with actual coffee orders memorized correctly now, the two of you falling into a rhythm that felt dangerously close to something real without either of you naming it.
It started small enough that you almost didn’t notice, at first.
He showed up outside your lecture hall a couple more times than usual, waiting by the door even on days you hadn’t mentioned your schedule. Then he started appearing at Malone’s more frequently, not just with Dean and Tucker anymore, but alone, sometimes twice in one shift.
“You’re here again,” you said, not quite managing to keep the surprise out of your voice when he walked into Malone’s for the second time that day.
“Figured I’d walk you home. Since it’s dark out.”
“It’s seven. It’s barely dark.”
“Still. Better safe than sorry.” He slid onto a stool at the counter, grinning easily, like there was nothing strange about showing up unannounced twice in one day.
“You were literally just here four hours ago.”
“I missed you.” He said it simply, like that explained everything, and you supposed it should have felt sweet. Mostly it just felt like a lot.
The next day, he texted asking what time your shift ended, then showed up anyway despite you telling him you had plans with Hannah after. He waited outside the entire time, claiming he just happened to be in the area again.
“Does this feel weird to you?” you asked Hannah quietly, glancing out the window where Garrett sat in his Jeep, waiting.
“A little, yeah.” Hannah followed your gaze, frowning slightly. “You should probably say something.”
You knew she was right, but something about confronting it made your chest tight.
It came to a head a few days later, when you skipped your usual coffee run before class, just wanting five minutes to yourself, only for Garrett to show up at the small café near your dorm instead, the one you’d mentioned exactly once, months ago.
“How did you know I was here?” You looked up from your laptop, startled, as he slid into the seat across from you.
“You mentioned liking this place once. Figured I’d try my luck.”
“Garrett, I never told you I was coming here today.”
“That’s not the same as knowing.” Your voice came out sharper than you intended. “You’ve been showing up literally everywhere I go lately. My shifts, my classes, now here.”
His smile faltered. “I just wanted to see you. I didn’t realize it was a problem.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to see you. It’s that it feels like you’re tracking me instead of letting things happen naturally. I need some space sometimes.”
Garrett was quiet for a second, something uncomfortable crossing his face. “I guess I got a little in my head once the Hannah and Justin thing stopped being fake. That was basically our built in excuse to keep running into each other, and once it ended, I panicked a little. Didn’t think about how it’d land on your end.”
“I get why. But it’s making me feel like I can’t breathe a little.”
“I’m sorry.” He looked genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t mean to make this feel like an invasion.”
“You don’t need an excuse to see me, though. I’m not going anywhere just because Hannah and Garrett’s fake relationship isn’t a thing anymore. I just need you to trust that instead of tracking my location.”
Something in his expression eased at that. “Fair.” He studied you for a second, the guilt giving way to something lighter. “So, hypothetically, if I promised to only show up, like, ninety percent less often, would that fix it, or do I need to go full cold turkey?”
“Ninety percent is a start.”
“That’s generous of you. I was expecting a full ban.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Noted. Ninety percent it is.” He leaned back slightly, some of his usual confidence creeping back in now that the tension had eased. “Can I at least keep the coffee thing? Showing up with your exact order should be exempt. That’s basic good boyfriend behavior.”
“We’re not there yet.”
“We’re getting there, though.” He raised an eyebrow, teasing now. “My instincts are very good.”
“Your instincts once told you I drank oat milk lattes.”
“I was close.”
“You were completely wrong.”
“Close in spirit.” He grinned, unbothered. “Fine. New system. I’ll text first. Actual invitations. Very reformed.”
“We’ll see how long that lasts.”
“I’m extremely committed to good behavior.”
“You lasted a week before this whole showing-up-everywhere thing started. Not exactly a strong track record.”
“Harsh, but fair.” He stood, lingering a second longer than necessary. “For the record, I really am sorry. I’ll do better.”
“I know you will.” You looked up at him, the earlier unease settled now, replaced by the familiar warmth that always crept back in eventually. “Now go. Ninety percent less, remember.”
“Ninety percent,” he confirmed, backing toward the door, still grinning. “Starting tomorrow, though. Today I’m still walking you home. Non-negotiable.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“It is now. I just decided.” He winked, finally heading for the door, and you shook your head, laughing despite everything.
A few days later, Allie burst into your dorm room without knocking, phone already in hand.
“Movie night. Hockey house. Tonight.” She flopped onto your bed, scrolling through the group chat. “Apparently it’s a whole thing, blankets, snacks, the works.”
“I have a paper due Monday.”
“It’s Thursday. You have three days.” Allie didn’t even look up. “Also, Garrett’s definitely going to be there, so.”
“That’s not really a selling point.”
“Sure it isn’t.” Allie grinned, clearly not buying it for a second.
Hannah wandered in a few minutes later, already dressed, clearly assuming the answer was yes before you’d even said it. “I already told Justin we’re going.”
“Wow. Okay. Cool. Great to be consulted.”
“You love us,” Hannah said sweetly, tossing a sweater at you from your closet. “Get changed. We’re leaving in twenty.”
You gave up arguing somewhere around minute two, mostly because you knew you’d end up going anyway.
The hockey house looked different without a hundred people crammed into it, lights dimmed, a projector set up against the living room wall, blankets and pillows scattered across the couches and floor. It felt smaller like this. Quieter.
Garrett spotted you the second you walked in, and something in his expression shifted, that easy grin sliding into place.
“You came.”
“Allie made me.”
“I did,” Allie confirmed, already peeling off toward the kitchen.
Garrett looked back at you, something warm in his eyes despite the joking tone. “Glad she did.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Little late for that.” He gestured toward the couch. “Sit with me.”
“There’s like six other seats.”
“None of them are next to me, though.” He said it so simply, like it wasn’t even up for debate, and you hated how easily you let yourself be led toward the couch anyway.
You sat, keeping careful distance between you, which lasted about as long as it took for someone to announce there weren’t enough blankets to go around and toss one directly into Garrett’s lap.
“Guess we’re sharing,” he said, entirely too pleased about it, draping half of it over your legs before you could protest.
“I have a blanket.”
“You have half a blanket. This one’s better anyway.” He settled back against the couch, arm stretching along the top behind you, not quite touching, close enough that you could feel the warmth of it anyway.
The movie started a few minutes later, something you barely registered, too aware of the space between you slowly shrinking as the night went on, his knee brushing yours, his arm dropping slightly until it was resting loosely behind you.
“You’re staring,” you muttered, not looking away from the screen.
“I’m not staring. I’m existing in your general direction.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“It’s really not.” He leaned in slightly, voice dropping just for you. “Staring implies I’m not doing anything else. I’m doing plenty. Thinking about how you still haven’t let me order your coffee for you once this week, for example.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Convenient excuse.”
“It’s a real one.”
“Sure it is.” He bumped his shoulder against yours, and something about the easy familiarity of it made you relax slightly despite yourself.
You almost didn’t notice it at first, the way his hand kept finding its way closer to yours under the blanket, fingers brushing against your knuckles like he was testing the waters before actually committing to anything.
“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, glancing down at where his hand had settled dangerously close to yours.
“Watching the movie.”
“Your hand isn’t watching the movie.”
“My hand has its own agenda tonight.” He glanced at you, all faux innocence, though his fingers slid a little closer, brushing over the back of your hand deliberately this time. “Purely independent decision making.”
“huh.”
“I have no control over it, honestly. Tragic, really.”
“You could just ask, you know.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” His fingers finally laced through yours, slow and easy, like he’d been building up to it the entire movie. “See? Much more romantic this way. Very cinematic.”
“This isn’t a movie, Garrett.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” He squeezed your hand gently, thumb tracing idle patterns against your skin. “I feel like we’re basically the main characters right now.”
“We’re watching a movie about someone else’s love story while you attempt your own hostile takeover of my hand.”
“Hostile is a strong word. I prefer ‘gentle, persistent campaign.’”
“That’s still concerning.”
“You haven’t pulled away yet, though.” He glanced at you, smug and pleased with himself. “That’s basically a green light in my book.”
“It’s not a green light. It’s me being too tired to fight you on it.”
“I’ll take it. Baby steps.”
A few minutes passed, the movie forgotten between you both, before he leaned in slightly, voice dropping low enough that only you could hear it over the noise of the room.
“For the record, your hand is very soft. Ten out of ten. Would hold again.”
“You’re holding it right now.”
“I know. Currently very satisfied with my life choices.” He grinned, unbothered. “You’re fighting a smile, by the way. I can see it happening.”
“I am not.”
“You’re extremely fighting a smile. It’s happening right now, in real time.” He nudged your shoulder gently. “Just let it happen. I promise it won’t kill you.”
You gave in slightly, the smile breaking through despite your best efforts, and he looked entirely too pleased with himself about it, squeezing your hand once more before settling back into the couch.
As the movie wound down and the room started to quiet, you found yourself drifting slightly, the warmth of the blanket and the exhaustion of the week finally catching up to you. Your head tipped sideways, landing on Garrett’s shoulder before you fully registered it happening.
“Hey. You still with me?” His voice was soft, careful not to jostle you.
“Mm. Barely.” You blinked slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Movie’s almost done, right?”
“It ended ten minutes ago.”
“Oh.” You sat up slightly, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
“Don’t apologize. I didn’t mind.” He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, something soft in his expression that made your chest go warm despite the exhaustion.
Across the room, Allie was gathering her things, glancing over at you both. “You look wrecked, babe. You should probably just crash on the couch here instead of walking back.”
“The couch is kind of lumpy, though,” Dean added from the armchair, stretching. “You’d probably wake up with a permanent kink in your neck.”
“I could take the floor,” you mumbled, already half-asleep again.
“Absolutely not.” Garrett’s voice was firm now, no teasing left in it. “Take my room. I’ll crash on the couch.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. You’re not sleeping on a lumpy couch or the floor when there’s a perfectly good bed upstairs.” He stood, gently pulling you up with him, steadying you when you swayed slightly from exhaustion. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed.”
The nickname slipped out easy, familiar now in a way that still made your stomach flutter every time, and you were too tired to comment on it, letting him guide you toward the stairs instead.
He guided you up the stairs slowly, one hand steady at your waist, the other still loosely holding yours from downstairs.
“You’re swaying,” he murmured, amused.
“I’m not swaying. I’m gliding.”
“That’s definitely swaying.”
“Semantics.” You leaned into him slightly, eyes half-closed, letting him take most of your weight without much protest. “You’re comfortable, for the record. Very good leaning material.”
“High praise.” He nudged his door open with his foot, guiding you inside. “Careful, step.”
“I know how stairs work, Garrett.”
“Debatable, given the last thirty seconds.” He grinned, steering you gently toward the bed, sitting you down before crouching slightly to look at you properly. “You good?”
“Mm. Tired.” You blinked slowly up at him, everything soft and slow at the edges. “You’re very nice to me.”
“I try.”
“No, like.” You reached out, tugging lightly at his sleeve, some filter clearly gone with the exhaustion. “You didn’t have to give me your bed. Or walk me up here. Or hold my hand all night like some kind of hostile campaign.”
“I stand by the campaign.”
“I know you do.” A small, sleepy laugh escaped you. “It worked, by the way. In case you were wondering.”
“Was there ever any doubt?” He brushed a strand of hair off your face, thumb lingering gently against your cheek. “Lay down. You’re gonna fall asleep sitting up in about thirty seconds.”
You let yourself flop back against the pillows, already half gone, watching him through heavy eyelids as he pulled the blanket up over you.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Something in your chest went warm and soft at the word, same as it always did, and you caught his wrist gently before he could pull away completely.
“Say that again.”
“Say what?”
“Sweetheart.” Your voice had gone quiet, drowsy and honest in the way only exhaustion could make you. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that.”
Garrett went still for a second, something unguarded slipping across his face in the dim light of the room. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Your eyes were already drifting shut again. “Makes everything feel steady. Like it’s real.”
“It is real.” He said it softly, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment longer, watching you with an expression he probably wasn’t ready to name yet. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll say it as many times as you want.”
“Perfect.” A small, content smile tugged at your mouth as sleep finally pulled you under completely, his hand still loosely wrapped around yours, his voice the last thing you registered before drifting off entirely.
He stayed there a moment longer, watching you sleep, before finally standing, tucking the blanket a little higher around your shoulders, and slipping quietly out of the room, already looking forward to saying it again in the morning.
Sunlight filtered weakly through the blinds, and you woke up slowly, disoriented for a second by the unfamiliar ceiling before the memories of the night before came trickling back, the movie, the hand-holding campaign, him carrying you half-asleep up the stairs.
You stretched, still wrapped in his blanket, the smell of him lingering on the sheets, and for a moment you just lay there, warm and unhurried, replaying the soft, sleepy confession you’d made before drifting off. Your face went a little warm at the memory. You’d meant it, though. Every word.
A soft knock sounded at the door before it cracked open, Garrett peeking in, already dressed, hair damp like he’d showered.
“Morning.” He smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re alive. I was starting to wonder.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost eleven. You were out cold.” He crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, close enough that you shifted slightly to make room for him. “How’d you sleep?”
“Really well, actually.” You sat up slowly, still a little groggy. “Your bed is stupidly comfortable.”
“I have excellent taste.” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, the same gesture from last night, gentler now in the morning light. “You remember much from last night?”
Your stomach did a small, nervous flip. “Depends which part.”
“The sweetheart part.” A small, hopeful smile tugged at his mouth. “You said something before you fell asleep.”
Heat crept up your neck, though you didn’t look away this time. “I remember.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You picked at the edge of the blanket, feeling suddenly exposed in the daylight, though not in a bad way. “I meant it, for the record. Even sober. Even now.”
Something in his expression softened completely, warm and unguarded in a way you were slowly getting used to seeing. “Good. Because I really don’t plan on stopping.”
“I’m counting on it.”
He nudged your shoulder gently with his, grinning. “So. Since we’re being honest this morning. should tell you, I practiced saying it in the mirror a couple times before I actually called you that the first time. Wanted it to sound casual.”
“You did not.”
“I absolutely did. Very serious preparation went into that moment.”
“That’s the least casual thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I panicked, okay? First impressions are important.” He laughed, easy and warm, and you found yourself laughing too, the morning settling into something light and comfortable between you.
“Well, for the record,” you said, “it worked. Very smooth. No notes.”
“High praise.” He stood, offering you a hand. “Come on. I promised breakfast, and I intend to deliver. Non negotiable this time.”
You laughed, letting him pull you up, following him out of the room and down toward the kitchen, the morning light spilling warm through the windows, everything settling into something steady and easy, no rush behind any of it at all.
Note from author: this is my very first story published so i hope you guys like it 🤍 much love
Summary: reader thinking Garrett is a manwhore.
Word count: 1k
☙
“No” was the beginning of every sentence coming out of your mouth, right as Allie flashed that mischievous smile of hers.
“Please come, it’ll be so much fun,” she pleaded, still smiling. You almost gave in, but then looked around your room, remembering how much work you had left to do.
Allie followed your eyes across the room and knew exactly what you were thinking. “No, we are not doing this. You have to get out of this dorm,” she said, just as Hannah chimed in. “Allie’s right, babe. You are in desperate need of some fun tonight.”
“If I potentially say yes… can I leave after an hour?” You looked defeated already.
“YES.” Allie bolted into her room, immediately digging through her closet for an outfit almost as revealing as her own. You laughed and glanced back at Hannah, who was smiling right back at you.
“I knew we’d change your mind. Come on, let’s get you ready.” You followed her into the bathroom. “What’s this party even for, anyways? They’re only good for the puck bunnies drooling over the hockey boys,” you said, watching Hannah through the mirror.
“I know, babe, but I kind of have to go… you know, because of Garrett…” Hannah looked down.
“Are you guys still fake dating just to make Justin jealous?”
“Yeah. Honestly, lately I’ve been wanting to stop the whole thing. Clearly Justin doesn’t care.” You turned to her with a look. “Han, don’t say that. Maybe he just doesn’t want to ruin anything, you know, since he thinks you two are actually dating.”
“He did look a little jealous at Dean and Beau’s birthday,” Hannah said, a small smile creeping in. Allie popped into the bathroom. “Han, babe, he almost dropped his drink watching you walk up those stairs. I think he is jealous.” “Guess we’ll see about that tonight.” You all laughed and kept getting ready.
Almost an hour later, you arrived at the hockey house, short skirt, tube top showing a little too much cleavage, heels already killing your feet. Not that you weren’t used to it by now.
Allie glanced back at you the second you walked in. “Girls, I’m just gonna go find Dean.” You already knew what that meant. She was about to disappear to make out with her boyfriend for the rest of the night. Fair enough.
Hannah grabbed your hand. “We should go find Garrett and the others.” She pulled you through the crowd until you landed in the kitchen.
Justin appeared in the doorway before you even had a chance to grab a drink, his eyes locked on Hannah the second he spotted her.
“Hey, can I steal you for a sec?” he said, barely glancing at the rest of you. Hannah’s whole face shifted, that flicker of hope she always tried to hide whenever his name came up.
“Yeah, of course.” She squeezed your hand once, mouthing a quick sorry over her shoulder as Justin led her out through the crowd, his hand hovering near her back like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch her.
And just like that, you were alone.
You turned back toward the counter, reaching for the vodka someone had left open, when a voice you’d know anywhere cut through the noise behind you.
“Wow. Abandoned already? Rough night.”
You didn’t even have to turn around. “Wasn’t aware you had a personality outside of showing up uninvited to conversations, Garrett.”
“This is my house.” He leaned against the counter next to you, arms crossed, that stupid smirk already in place. “Kind of hard to be uninvited to my own kitchen.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You spend so much time hanging off my best friend I forgot you actually lived here.”
Something flickered across his face, quick, gone before you could name it. “Careful. Almost sounds like you’re jealous.”
“Of what, exactly? The privilege of pretending to like you?” You poured your drink a little too aggressively, some of it sloshing over the rim. “Hannah deserves an award for that performance, honestly.”
“She’s a good actress.” His jaw tightened just slightly. “Better than you’d think.”
You caught it, the edge underneath it, something that wasn’t just banter. You glanced toward the doorway Hannah and Justin had disappeared through. “You don’t look thrilled she just left with him.”
“I’m thrilled.” He said it too fast. “It’s literally the whole point.”
“Sure.” You took a sip, watching him over the rim of your cup. “You just have a face for it.”
“And you have a mouth for it.” He tilted his head. “Never stops running, does it?”
“Only around you. Funny how that works.”
The air between you shifted, not quite hostile anymore, something tighter, something neither of you were going to admit to. Garrett pushed off the counter, closing some of the distance, and for a second you almost forgot what you’d been arguing about in the first place.
“You gonna tell me why you actually hate me,” he said, quieter now, “or are we doing the bit all night?”
You opened your mouth to fire back something sharp, but nothing came out right away. That was the problem with Garrett, he always managed to catch you off guard when you least expected it, right when you had a comeback locked and loaded.
“I don’t hate you,” you said instead, which surprised you both.
“Could’ve fooled me.” He echoed your words back at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now, less smug than before. “Six months of this and you’re telling me it’s not hate?”
“It’s principle.” You set your cup down. “There’s a difference.”
“Enlighten me.”
“I don’t hate you, Garrett. I just think you’re exhausting.” You crossed your arms, mirroring his stance. “There’s a whole line of girls outside probably waiting for you to notice them and instead you’re in here arguing with me about nothing.”
“Maybe I like arguing with you.” He said it simply, like it wasn’t a big deal, like it wasn’t the most honest thing he’d said all night.
That stopped you for a second. You searched his face for the joke, the smirk, the deflection, but it wasn’t there. Just him, watching you a little too closely, like he was waiting to see what you’d do with that.
“That’s a weird thing to like,” you said finally, quieter than you meant to.
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “Nobody else tells me when I’m being an idiot.”
“Somebody should. Often.”
“See, this is what I mean.” He almost laughed, shaking his head. “You can’t even take a compliment without turning it into an insult.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Sure it was. You just don’t know how to hear one from me.”
The space between you had shrunk without either of you really deciding to close it, close enough that you could smell the cologne mixed with the party heat, close enough that you had to tilt your head up slightly to keep looking at him. Neither of you moved back.
“Garrett”
“Yeah?”
You didn’t actually know what you’d been about to say. Whatever it was got swallowed by the sound of someone shouting his name from the living room, loud and urgent enough to break whatever this was.
“GARRETT. Beer pong. Now. We need you, man!”
He didn’t move right away. Just kept looking at you like he was waiting for you to tell him to go, or to say something else, or, you didn’t know what.
“You should go,” you said instead, stepping back first, putting the distance back where it belonged.
Something unreadable crossed his face. “Yeah.” He pushed off the counter. “Guess I should.”
He lingered a second longer than he needed to before heading toward the noise, and you stood there in the kitchen alone, heart doing something you refused to name, wondering what exactly had just almost happened.
Summary: You were in a loving relationship with Garrett Graham, and for the first time in your life, you had someone who loved you unconditionally. The problem was that no matter how much he loved you, it couldn't save you from yourself. You still seemed pretty sad for a girl in love.
Word count: 12k+
Author's Note: This fic is inspired by The Cure by Olivia Rodrigo. I wanted to explore what happens when someone has love but still struggles to feel okay because of the battles happening inside their own head. Hope you guys enjoy!!
Warnings:
Angst, hurt/comfort, self-worth issues, jealousy, family issues, and themes of depression.
You had been dating Garrett Graham for almost a year now.
Sometimes, that still felt weird to you.
You met sophomore year in a philosophy class after being forced into the same discussion group. At first, it was nothing more than late-night library sessions and sarcastic arguments over assignments. Then came coffee runs between classes, sitting in freezing hockey arenas just to watch him play, and the way he always walked you home afterward even when his apartment was in the opposite direction.
Somewhere along the way, the line between friendship and something else disappeared completely and now he was yours.
Sweet, patient, impossibly loving Garrett Graham. He was the kind of boyfriend people wrote songs about.
He remembered the smallest things about you. He kissed your forehead when he thought you were overthinking. He pulled you into his lap whenever you got quiet for too long, like he could physically hold you together with enough effort. Loving him came easy. Too easy.
But being loved by him?
That was harder.
Because no matter how gentle Garrett was with you, no matter how much he cared, there were still days where sadness clung to you so tightly you thought it might swallow you whole. Days where you looked at him and felt guilty for not feeling as happy as you were supposed to.
Tonight, the boys were throwing a party after beating Eastwood.
The house was loud in the way hockey houses always were. Music shook the walls while people shouted over each other from every corner of the room. Dean was currently making out with Allie against the kitchen island without a single ounce of shame while Hannah sat comfortably in Justin’s lap laughing at something he whispered into her ear. Across the room, Logan and Tucker were on what had to be their third game of beer pong, yelling like the championship depended on it.
You stood near the counter with a drink in your hand, watching everything happen around you without really feeling part of it.
Your mind had drifted somewhere far away again.
A cold can suddenly pressed against the side of your bare arm and you jumped slightly before turning to glare at your boyfriend.
You shoved at his shoulder lightly and he only laughed, slipping an arm around your waist to pull you against him.
“Of course I did,” he said. “How else am I supposed to get your attention?”
His tone was teasing, but there was something softer underneath it. Something that made your chest ache a little.
Garrett noticed everything.
He noticed when your smile started looking forced. When you got too quiet in crowded rooms. When your eyes lost focus because your thoughts had carried you somewhere he couldn’t follow.
And somehow, he always managed to bring you back.
The second your eyes met his, the noise around you faded into nothing.
You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Garrett sighed into it immediately, one of his hands tightening slightly against your waist like he needed you closer. When you pulled away, his thumb brushed absentmindedly against your hip. He’s about to say something when Logan suddenly yells his name from across the room.
“Graham! Come on, man!”
Garrett groans dramatically and you can already tell what it’s about. After every game, the four boys lined up shots on the kitchen counter and took them at the exact same time. They claimed it was good luck. At first you thought it was ridiculous, but considering how well their season was going, maybe they were onto something.
“You gonna survive two minutes without me?” Garrett asks, smiling softly.
You roll your eyes. “Go do your weird hockey cult tradition.”
He laughs quietly before leaning down to kiss you again. Slower this time. His hand cups the side of your face gently like he can’t help himself.
“You okay?” he asks against your lips and there it is again. That look that felt like he was searching your face for cracks. You give him a smile anyway. “Mhm. Go.”
He hesitates for half a second longer before finally pulling away. The second he disappears into the crowd, your smile slowly fades.
The noise around you becomes unbearable again almost immediately. Music. Laughter. People talking over each other. Everyone seemed to belong somewhere in the room.
And then there was you.
Standing awkwardly in the middle of it all pretending you fit here. You loved them. You really did.
The boys had welcomed you so easily into their lives because Garrett loved you, and Hannah and Allie had done everything they could to make you feel included from the very beginning. They never made you feel unwanted.
But somehow you still kept everyone at arm’s length.
It was like there was a wall inside you that refused to fully come down no matter how badly you wanted connection. You could laugh with them, spend hours around them, care about them deeply but never completely let them in.
Garrett had been the exception and that still scared you a little.
Not because he’d ever hurt you. God, no. Garrett Graham was probably the gentlest person you’d ever known.
But because he mattered.
And somehow, despite every wall you’d tried to keep standing, he’d slipped past all of them anyway.
Not by forcing his way in. Not by demanding pieces of you before you were ready to give them. He’d just stayed. Patient and steady and impossibly warm. He noticed things without making you feel exposed for them. The forced smiles. The quiet spells. The way your eyes drifted somewhere far away when your thoughts got too loud.
And every single time, he found a way to bring you back.
It became one of the best things that had ever happened to you.
Which was exactly why it terrified you sometimes.
Because even with Garrett loving you the way he did, there were still days where your sadness sat so heavy inside your chest it felt unbearable. Days where you felt raw and exhausted and impossible to fix. Like a wound that had healed wrong.
Those were the days you tried hardest to hide from him.
He already carried enough. Hockey. Classes. Expectations. The pressure of always being needed by everyone around him.
He didn’t need to carry you too.
Your chest tightened suddenly, exhaustion settling deep into your bones. Before you could overthink it further, you slipped quietly out of the party and headed upstairs toward Garrett’s room.
The music dulled into a distant thump the second the door shut behind you.
You locked it immediately, not trusting one of the drunk hockey guys not to stumble into the wrong room later, then crossed toward Garrett’s dresser. His scent lingered everywhere in here — cedarwood, clean laundry, something warm and comforting that always made your chest ache in the softest way.
You peeled off your clothes until you were standing in just your tank top and shorts before grabbing one of Garrett’s old Briar hockey shirts from the pile near the bed.
The fabric swallowed you whole, hanging past your thighs. You crawled beneath the blankets slowly, curling into his side of the bed while muffled laughter and music echoed faintly through the floorboards below.
For a while, you just stared at the ceiling.
The sound of the lock clicking made you sit up immediately.
Garrett stumbled inside a second later, trying very hard to look sober despite the obvious sway in his step. The second he spotted you, his entire face lit up.
A dimple appeared in his cheek.
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.
“So much for not letting Logan get you drunk.”
Garrett scoffed dramatically as he kicked the door shut behind him. “The guy is relentless,” he slurred, words running together slightly.
You walked toward him before he could trip over his own feet, grabbing his hands and guiding him toward the bed. The second he sat down, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face against your stomach with a soft sigh.
“You smell good,” he mumbled into the fabric of his own shirt hanging off your body.
You smiled despite yourself, fingers sliding gently through his messy hair. “That’s probably because it’s literally your shirt.”
“Hm. Still counts.”
A quiet laugh left you as he pulled you closer between his knees, eyes already half shut from exhaustion and alcohol.
“Why’d you leave?” he asked softly after a moment, voice quieter now. “I was looking for you.”
Your fingers stilled briefly in his hair.
“I just wanted you to have fun with your friends,” you said gently. “Besides, I have biology at eight in the morning and my professor is evil about attendance.”
Garrett hummed against you, clearly listening even as sleep threatened to drag him under. His grip around your waist tightened slightly, like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.
“Still wanted you downstairs,” he mumbled.
Your heart squeezed painfully.
“Yeah?”
“Always.”
The word came out so simple. So honest.
You swallowed hard and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Alright, c’mon. You need to sleep, mister.”
He groaned dramatically as you tugged his shoes off, letting himself fall backward onto the mattress the second you finished. He landed crookedly across the bed, one arm immediately reaching for you even with his eyes closed.
You laughed quietly and pulled the blankets over him.
Garrett looked impossibly soft like this. Sleepy and warm and trusting.
His eyes stayed shut as he whispered, almost like it was instinct, “I love you so much.”
For one fragile second, all the noise in your head went quiet. You leaned down, brushing your fingers gently across his cheek.
“I love you too,” you whispered.
A sleepy smile spread across his face almost immediately and within seconds, Garrett was completely asleep, still reaching for you even in his dreams.
Not because the material was hard, but because your professor spoke in the same exact monotone voice for an hour and twenty minutes straight while the room stayed unbearably
By the end of class, you had doodled all over the margins of your notebook and retained exactly three pieces of information, none of which you were confident were actually correct.
The second class ended, you shoved your notebook into your bag and practically bolted for the door heading back to your apartment with Hannah and Allie.
When they had asked you to move in with them for junior year, you'd agreed almost immediately. Part of it was because you genuinely liked them, and part of it was because you'd spent most of your life feeling lonely. The idea of having roommates who actually wanted you around had felt nice.
The second you walked in, the smell of Allie’s famous chicken curry hit you, and when you looked up, you saw both of them in the living room.
“She’s back!” Allie yelled from her seat, making you jump.
“Geez, Als, tone it down,” Hannah said from beside her, covering her ears.
You flopped down in the middle of them and sighed. “I hate bio.”
Then you turned to Hannah. “How exactly did you get an A in that class? The professor is terrible.”
Hannah tapped her temple. “I got the brains, babes.”
You snorted. "Sure."
As an architecture major, you still didn't understand why biology was required as a gen ed. You had yet to find a single connection between cellular respiration and designing buildings.
“Okay, enough of the science talk. It’s giving me a headache,” Allie said, throwing her hands up dramatically.
You rolled your eyes. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to deal with it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, already offended. “I would have you know theatre is genuinely harder than anything.”
You and Hannah both raised an eyebrow, and Allie gasped again.
“You know what? I was going to give you chicken curry, but now I’m withholding it.”
You gasped immediately, begging her to change her mind.
After hanging out with them for a while, you texted Garrett. He was at hockey practice.
You: how's the amateur hangover?
Garrett was a lightweight, and teasing him about it was one of your favorite things. He could genuinely get drunk off three shots, and you found that absolutely hilarious.
Garrett: haha
Garrett: Coach is killing us with drills
Garrett: i miss you :(
The stupid smile appeared before you could stop it.
Another message followed.
Garrett: the guys and i are going to malone's later
Garrett: can u come?
Garrett: i think dean would've told allie but if not everyone's invited
Your smile softened.
You: i miss you too
You: and i'll definitely think about it
Three dots appeared.
Garrett: of course
Garrett: gotta go before coach catches me
Garrett: bye. Love you
The words made your chest warm.
You: love you too
The typing bubble disappeared.
You sat there staring at the screen for a second longer than necessary before setting your phone down. After texting Hannah and Allie about Malone's and confirming they wanted to go, you spent the next hour working through assignments.
You were halfway through a discussion post when your phone rang.
You picked it up, automatically assuming it was Garrett.
But you froze the second you heard your father’s voice.
“Dad?” Your voice shook.
“Hey, lovey,” he said softly. The nickname making something uncomfortable twist inside your chest.
In the background, you could hear kids talking and laughing. “Just calling because Rachel wanted to know if you were down to have dinner this weekend?”
You hesitated.
Rachel was your dad’s new wife. He had divorced your mom when you were ten and started dating Rachel soon after. They got married two months later, and he had two kids now, ages eleven and nine.
Your dad had left you screaming and crying for him, and he never looked back. He only called you now maybe twice a year, and even then, it was usually because his wife pushed him to.
“Lovey?” he called again.
You cleared your throat. “Yeah, that works.”
“I’ll let her know.”
He hung up before you could say anything else, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
No how are you.
No how's school.
No I miss you.
Nothing.
Then your phone buzzed with a message in the group chat with you, Hannah, and Allie asking if everyone was ready. You typed back that you weren’t feeling up to it anymore, and after a lot of persuasion that didn’t work, they finally gave in. You texted Garrett that you had a lot of assignments to do and would see him tomorrow, and you didn’t wait for a reply before silencing your phone and flipping it over so you wouldn’t have to look at the screen.
You knew exactly what you were feeling.
Every time your dad ended a call, it was like being ten years old all over again, and that feeling of abandonment hit you like a wave. The silence in the room felt too loud, and you knew you could talk to Garrett, but it all felt too raw and ugly to even bring up with him.
So you grabbed your laptop and opened Instagram.
You went to your dad’s page and unblocked him.
Your past therapist had told you that if blocking him was the only way to set a boundary, then that was fine but you never told her that every few months, curiosity won anyway.
You clicked on his profile.
The first picture was of him and Rachel. They were standing on a beach somewhere, smiling at each other like they were the only two people in the world. The caption underneath read, Didn't start living until I found you.
Your jaw tightened.
You told yourself to keep scrolling.
There were family vacations, birthday parties, Christmas mornings, little snapshots of a life that seemed so full of happiness. Every photo looked effortless. Every smile looked genuine.
Then you found a picture of him standing between your half-brother and half-sister.
His arms were wrapped around both of them, pulling them close against his sides. They were grinning at the camera while he looked down at them with a smile you recognized immediately.
The caption was simple.
My pride and joys.
You stared at the screen.
Maybe he didn't mean anything by it. Maybe he wasn't thinking. Maybe it was just a harmless caption that had taken him three seconds to write.
But your brain didn't care about any of that.
All it could focus on was what wasn't there.
Not you.
Never you.
A sharp ache spread through your chest so suddenly that it almost stole the air from your lungs. Before you realized it, tears were slipping down your cheeks.
You slammed the laptop shut and immediately blocked him again.
The room went silent.
And just like that, you weren't twenty-one anymore.
You were ten.
Ten years old, standing on the front porch after he'd driven away.
Ten years old, staring out the window every time a car pulled into the driveway because maybe this time it would be him.
Ten years old, waiting for phone calls that never came and birthdays he forgot and promises he never kept.
The worst part wasn't even that he'd left.
The worst part was that somewhere deep inside you, there was still a little girl trying to figure out why.
Why had it been so easy to leave you?
Why did everyone else seem worth staying for?
What was so wrong with you that your father could love another family so effortlessly while loving you always seemed to feel like an obligation?
The thought hit so hard that your breathing started to shake.
You pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes and tried to force yourself to calm down, but every breath felt too fast, too shallow. The tears wouldn't stop, and no matter how many times you reminded yourself that you were older now, that you had people who loved you, that none of this was your fault, the hurt still felt exactly the same.
A knock at your door pulled you out of it.
You froze for a second before forcing yourself up. When you looked through the peephole, Garrett was standing there, eyes lowered to the floor, a small frown pulling at his face. The sight of him like that made your stomach drop. Panic hit instantly, and without thinking, you turned and rushed back into the bathroom.
You splashed water on your face, trying to get rid of the redness around your eyes, blowing your nose quickly and wiping at your cheeks until you felt slightly more put together. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You didn’t want to see that look on his face either—the one that made it feel like you were something fragile he might not know how to hold without breaking.
By the time you walked back out, your breathing was steadier, your eyes less puffy. You opened the door again.
This time, Garrett was still there, standing a little straighter. In his hands he had a Malone’s bag. His eyes moved over your face immediately, narrowing slightly like he could already tell something was off.
Before you could say anything, he stepped inside and set the bag down without a word. Then he cupped your face gently, tilting your head up so you’d look at him. His arm slipped around you, pulling you into his chest, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.
He didn’t speak at first. He just held you.
And that was almost worse, because it made the lump in your throat come back immediately.
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, clinging to him before the tears could start again. The thoughts in your head didn’t stop, though. That quiet voice telling you you didn’t deserve this. That he came here because he felt bad. That you were too much. That he was going to get tired of it eventually. That you were already starting to wear him down.
You clung to him harder, like if you let go even a little bit, you’d fall apart completely.
“What—what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice breaking slightly, like you were trying to distract him, or maybe yourself.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, then pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
“I brought you some food,” he said quietly.
You frowned at him, because you knew him well enough to know he wasn’t saying the full truth. He wasn’t going to admit he was worried. He never did, not in a way that would make you feel worse.
“Besides,” he added, a small hint of teasing in his voice, “do I need an excuse to see my girlfriend?”
A soft laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it.
“I guess not,” you murmured.
He pulled you back in again, kissing you softly this time, and you melted into it without thinking. When you broke apart, he guided you toward your room like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He set the food down and ate with you, the two of you falling into an easy quiet after a while. Eventually, he sat back against your headboard, and you rested your head in his lap. His fingers moved through your hair slowly, steady and grounding.
After a few minutes, he spoke.
“Are you going to tell me what’s really wrong now?”
You looked up at him. For a moment, you hesitated, your fingers picking at each other in your lap. You weren’t sure you were ready to go back there fully, but you also knew Garrett wasn’t going to push.
He never did.
“I spoke to my dad,” you said finally.
He didn’t interrupt. He just kept stroking your hair, waiting.
“He has a new family,” you continued quietly. “And he wants me to come visit this weekend.”
Garrett’s expression softened immediately. “And do you want to?”
You shrugged, still avoiding his eyes.
“I don’t know.”
Garrett didn’t respond right away. His hand stayed in your hair, slow and steady, like he was giving you space without letting you feel alone in it.
“I can come with you if you want me to,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
The words hit you immediately.
You shook your head before he even finished the sentence. “Absolutely not. I can’t make you do that.”
Just the idea of it made something twist in your chest. Taking him there, putting him in the middle of that, letting him see all of it—it felt wrong in a way you couldn’t properly explain. Like it would somehow make everything more real, more exposed. Like you’d be dragging him into a version of your life you were still trying to keep separate from him.
Garrett didn’t look surprised by your answer. If anything, his expression softened even more.
“Hey,” he said gently.
Your eyes flicked up to his.
“I’m not doing it because you’re making me,” he added. “I’m offering because I want to.”
Your throat tightened slightly, and you looked away again, focusing on your fingers instead of his face.
“I don’t want you to see it,” you admitted quietly. The words came out smaller than you intended. “I don’t want you to see… that part of me.”
There was a pause, and then his hand shifted, gently tilting your chin back toward him so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.
“That part of you?” he repeated, not unkindly. Just confused in a way that made it clear he didn’t accept what you were implying.
Your chest tightened again.
You didn’t answer right away, because there wasn’t a clean way to explain it. How do you tell someone that you feel like there’s a version of your life that’s too messy, too painful, too much—and you’re scared that if they see it, they’ll start looking at you differently?
Garrett seemed to understand the silence anyway.
“I don’t need everything to make sense,” he said quietly. “And I don’t need you to be okay all the time.”
His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek like he was grounding you back into the moment.
“I just need you to stop acting like I’m gonna disappear the second things get hard.”
That landed heavier than you expected.
Because that was exactly what your brain kept preparing for.
The entire drive to your father's house felt like you were heading toward an execution.
You sat in the passenger seat with your hands wrapped tightly around the pie resting in your lap. It was something you'd picked up on the way over, a last-minute decision that somehow made the visit feel less empty. The aluminum tin dug into your palms as you stared out the window, watching familiar neighborhoods blur past while your stomach twisted itself into knots.
It had been three years since you'd seen your dad. The last time being at your mothers funeral and even that was just a quick check in with you before he had to leave.
Three years since you'd stood in the same room as him, heard his voice without it coming through a phone speaker, looked him in the eye instead of seeing him in pictures online. There had been the occasional text over the years. Birthday messages. Holiday greetings. Random check-ins that always felt awkward and forced. You usually responded with something short before letting the conversation die.
You still weren't entirely sure why you'd agreed to come.
Maybe it was because he'd mentioned Rachel wanted to see you. Maybe it was because part of you had always been curious about the woman who'd become more important than his daughter. Whatever the reason, it felt too late to back out now.
Every few minutes Garrett's hand would leave the steering wheel and find yours. Sometimes he squeezed your fingers. Sometimes his thumb brushed over your knuckles. He never said anything about it, but you knew he could tell how nervous you were.
The house came into view far too quickly.
Garrett pulled up to the curb and turned off the engine. The sudden silence felt deafening.
You stared at the front door.
You could still leave.
You could text your dad and tell him something came up. You could claim you were sick. You could tell Garrett to put the car in reverse and drive away before anyone knew you'd arrived.
A warm hand settled over yours before you could disappear too far into your thoughts.
You looked over and found Garrett already watching you.
"Last chance to run," you muttered, twisting his fingers between your own in a desperate attempt to calm yourself.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Not happening."
You sighed dramatically. "No?"
"Nope. I've already spent all morning preparing my polite boyfriend routine."
That earned the smallest laugh from you.
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. Firm handshake. Good posture. Lots of eye contact. Maybe a 'yes, sir' if I'm feeling ambitious."
You rolled your eyes.
"You're ridiculous."
His smile softened as he squeezed your hand.
"You don't have to do this alone."
The teasing disappeared from his voice completely.
"If you decide you've had enough, just squeeze my hand."
"And then what?"
"I'll tell everyone I suddenly got diarrhea and we need to leave immediately."
A surprised laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
"I'm serious."
"You are absolutely not."
"I am. I'll even add dramatic stomach cramps if necessary."
Your smile grew despite yourself.
The sight seemed to relax him as much as it relaxed you.
He leaned across the center console and kissed you gently. It wasn't a passionate kiss or a dramatic one. It was grounding. Familiar. The kind of kiss that reminded you that no matter how awful tonight became, Garrett would be there beside you through all of it.
When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours for a moment.
"We got this."
You weren't entirely convinced.
But you nodded anyway.
The two of you climbed out of the car, and Garrett's hand settled against your lower back as you walked up the driveway. The gesture was subtle, but it made you feel steadier somehow.
Before you could knock, the front door swung open.
Your father stood there smiling.
"Lovey."
The nickname hit you harder than you expected.
Before you could react, he wrapped his arms around you.
Your entire body went rigid.
It wasn't that you hated him. You weren't even sure if hate was the right word for what you felt. The problem was that he was practically a stranger now, and strangers didn't get to hug you like they still knew you.
When he pulled away, he looked genuinely happy to see you.
"How are you, kiddo?"
"Good. Fine."
The answer came out too quickly.
You immediately thrust the pie into his hands.
"I didn't know what to bring."
His smile widened.
"You didn't have to bring anything."
Then his attention shifted to Garrett standing beside you.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face.
"Well, who's this?"
You opened your mouth, but Garrett beat you to it.
He stepped forward and held out his hand.
"Garrett Graham, sir. Her boyfriend."
For a split second your dad looked genuinely caught off guard.
Then he laughed and shook Garrett's hand.
"Nice to meet you. You can call me Aaron."
Garrett smiled politely.
"Nice to meet you too, Aaron”. Your father stepped aside and invited both of you in. The first thing you noticed wasn't the furniture or the decorations. It was the photographs,they were everywhere.
Family vacations. Christmas mornings. Birthday parties. School pictures. Smiling faces frozen behind glass frames lining shelves and walls. An entire life. An entire family.
"Rach," your father called. "She's here."
Rachel appeared from the kitchen almost immediately, two children following behind her.
The second she saw you, her face lit up.
"Oh my gosh." Before you could react, she pulled you into a hug.
"It's been so long."
The last time you'd seen her in person had been your father's wedding. You'd still been a kid.
"Yeah," you answered quietly.
The silence that followed felt awkward until Garrett smoothly stepped forward.
"I'm Garrett, by the way. It's nice to meet you Mrs Hale"
Rachel smiled and shook his hand.
"Well, luckily I made enough food for a small army."
Garrett grinned.
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Oh, don't call me ma'am. You're making me feel ancient." That made him laugh.
"Sorry. Thank you, Rachel."
Your father pointed toward the two kids. "This is Rowan and that's Reagan ." The older boy gave a small wave and the younger girl immediately hid behind Rachel's leg before peeking around it and waving shyly.
You waved back.
The moment felt strangely surreal. You already knew what they looked like. You'd seen enough pictures over the years for that. But standing in front of them felt different. Real.
Dinner was ready soon after, and everyone gathered around the table. You ended up seated beside Garrett while your father sat at the head. Rachel sat across from you with the kids on either side of her.
The longer dinner went on, the harder it became to ignore the ache in your chest.
Your eyes drifted toward Reagan.
She leaned against your father's shoulder while she talked. Without thinking, he reached over and helped cut up her food. A moment so small nobody else noticed but it hit you like a punch. She was the same age you'd been when he left.
Looking at her made it impossible not to think about that little girl you used to be. The one who waited by windows. The one who thought every phone call meant Dad was coming back. The one who couldn't understand why she suddenly wasn't enough anymore.
The lump forming in your throat became difficult to swallow.
Under the table, Garrett's hand found yours. His fingers slid between yours naturally, like he already knew exactly where your thoughts had gone. Two gentle squeezes.
‘Are you okay?’
The code had developed over months together. Small signals exchanged in crowded rooms and long lectures and uncomfortable situations.
You squeezed his hand once.
‘I'm okay.’
It wasn't entirely true but Garrett didn't let go. Throughout dinner, Rachel made a noticeable effort to include you. She asked questions about your classes, your friends, your plans after graduation. Whenever conversation started drifting away from you, she found a way to bring you back into it.
You appreciated it more than you could admit, but at the same time, every attempt somehow reminded you how much time had already passed.
How many years had existed without you sitting at this table.
How many dinners had happened before this one.
How many memories filled the walls around you.
You answered politely when spoken to, but the entire evening felt distant, almost unreal, like you were standing outside a window looking in.
Thankfully, Garrett seemed to sense it. Whenever attention shifted toward you for too long, he effortlessly redirected it toward himself. He answered questions, told stories, and made everyone laugh.
Within twenty minutes, Rowan was asking him about hockey, Reagan had decided he was her favorite person at the table, and even your father seemed amused by him.
Garrett handled the conversation so naturally that nobody appeared to notice how often he was shielding you from it.
Nobody except you.
After the dinner, Your father stood in the driveway long after dinner had ended, insisting on walking the two of you to the car despite your quiet protests. The evening had already drained you enough. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone with him, waiting for whatever apology or explanation he thought would somehow make things better.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Garrett,” he said, reaching out to shake Garrett’s hand. His smile was polite, almost strained at the edges, like he was trying too hard to make the moment look normal. “Hopefully this won’t be the last time we see each other.”
The words were directed at Garrett, but your father was looking at you when he said them. You immediately looked away because you couldn't bear the hopeful expression on his face.
“It was nice meeting you too, sir,” Garrett said, courteous as always, his voice calm and steady in a way that made you feel even more fragile by comparison. He looked at you then, his expression quietly asking whether you were going to be okay, and you gave him the smallest nod you could manage before he slipped into the car.
You wrapped your arms around yourself while your father remained standing beside the driveway, the night air suddenly feeling too cold against your skin. He was smiling, but it did not reach his eyes. If anything, it looked like the smile was hurting him.
“I’m happy you gave us a chance and came over,” he said softly.
You did not know what to say to that. You had given him a chance, maybe, but you still did not understand why you had agreed to come in the first place. Maybe a part of you had been tired of carrying all that anger alone. Maybe a smaller, sadder part of you had wanted to see if he would be any different now that enough time had passed.
“Rachel and the kids were really happy you came,” he added.
You nodded, still saying nothing, because your silence was safer than your voice. If you spoke, you knew the words would come out sharper than you wanted them to.
“I know with your mum gone, I haven’t—”
That was enough.
Your chest tightened immediately, and before he could finish, you cut him off. This was not a conversation you were willing to have standing in a driveway, as though one dinner could somehow erase everything that had broken between you. You could feel your pulse in your throat, the old grief and the newer anger twisting together until you could hardly tell them apart.
“I would rather not talk about that,” you said, your voice strained but controlled. “Thank you for inviting me. You have a beautiful family.”
You did not wait for him to answer, and turned away before he could say anything else, because if he kept talking, you were not sure you would be able to keep yourself together. You slid into the car and shut the door behind you, and Garrett started the engine without asking questions, pulling out of the driveway and leaving your father behind in the light spilling from the porch.
The drive to Garrett’s apartment was painfully quiet. It was not an uncomfortable silence, exactly. You stared out the window and tried so hard not to cry that your throat began to ache. You were angry, but you were also ashamed of how much it still hurt. You hated that he could still get to you.
You hated that a single dinner had dug up all the things you had tried so hard to bury. And underneath all of it was the awful, quiet fact that you did not even fully understand what you were feeling. Grief, resentment, humiliation and loneliness all blurred together until your chest felt heavy enough to collapse under.
When you finally looked up, you realized you were already in front of Garrett’s apartment. You did not have to say that you did not want to be alone. You would never have admitted it out loud, not with your pride and he knew that.
Tears began to spill over before you could stop them and you did not even know what you were crying for at first. Maybe it was for your father, and all the years of being left behind. Maybe it was the humiliating ache of seeing him happy while you were still carrying everything he had done. Maybe it was the way Garrett could look at you and seem to understand the whole mess of your heart without you having to explain a single thing. Whatever it was, the tears came faster once they started, and suddenly you could not hold yourself together anymore.
“Baby…” Garrett said, and his voice cracked with concern.
He did not hesitate. He reached for you immediately and pulled you into him and the second you were in his arms, something in you finally gave way completely, like your body had been waiting all evening for permission to fall apart.
“I’m sorry… I don’t know why—” you managed, embarrassed even through the tears, because crying in front of someone always made you feel raw and exposed .
Garrett pulled back just enough to look at you, and when he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushed gently over your skin. His frown was soft, not disappointed or frustrated, just full of quiet concern that made your chest ache all over again.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said. “Never apologize for showing your emotions.”
That made your chin wobble, and the helplessness of it only made you cry harder. His tenderness was almost worse than anger would have been, because there was no edge to hide behind with Garrett. There was only honesty and care.
“Seeing him happy should make me feel good,” you said, voice trembling as it finally broke open. “But it doesn’t.”
Your breath hitched.
“He left me,” you continued, words spilling faster now, like once they started they couldn’t be stopped. “And he didn’t look back. I wasn’t enough for him to stay.”
Your fingers curled tighter into Garrett’s shirt as if it was the only thing anchoring you.
“When my mum died, he came to the funeral,” you said, swallowing hard, your voice shaking more with every sentence. “And all he did was talk about how sorry he was. How he should’ve been there. How he failed her.”
A bitter laugh slipped out through your tears, but it didn’t hold any humor.
“And I just sat there listening to him talk about her like she was the only thing he lost.”
Your throat tightened painfully.
“She wasn’t the only person he abandoned.”
The words came out quieter this time, heavier.
“I lost my mum,” you whispered, “and somehow I ended up comforting him.”
You shook your head slightly, like you were still trying to make sense of it years later. Like it still didn’t sit right inside you.
“And tonight,” you continued, voice cracking again, “watching him laugh with his kids… acting like this version of him actually exists… I just kept thinking—”
Your breath broke.
“Why couldn’t I get that?”
.The words hung in the air between you, raw and aching, like once they left your mouth there was no taking them back. For a second, you almost wished you could swallow them again. You could still feel the weight of them settling in your chest, the sting of admitting something you had spent years refusing to say out loud.
Garrett’s face softened. He pulled back just enough to brush the hair away from your face, but he didn’t let you go. His hands stayed on you as if he was afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip even a little.
“You were a kid,” he said quietly, each word careful and steady. “You didn’t do anything to make somebody stay or leave. That was on him. Not you.”
His jaw tightened for a second, and you could see the anger he was trying to keep under control, not at you, never at you, but at the man who had made you carry this for so long.
“I know it hurts,” he added more softly. “And I know it messes with your head seeing him be a different person with someone else. But that does not mean there was something wrong with you. It means he failed you.”
His thumb brushed gently over your cheek.
“You were always worth staying for,” he said, his voice lower now, almost tender enough to break your heart. “He just wasn’t capable of doing it.”
Something inside you cracked open at that, and you felt yourself love him even harder for saying exactly what you needed to hear. You leaned in before you could overthink it and kissed him, putting every bit of love and pain and relief into it.
Garrett kissed you back immediately, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he pulled you closer. Your fingers slipped into his hair, and for a moment it felt like everything else disappeared. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing a little harder.
“Trust me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lips, “I want nothing more than this right now, but not when you’re hurting like this.”
You groaned softly, but you nodded because you understood, even if you were still a little frustrated.
He kissed your forehead once, then got out of the car and came around to your side before you could protest. When he opened the door, he lifted you into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head against his chest as he carried you inside.
The apartment was quiet when you got in.
Too quiet.
You looked around, surprised. “Where are the boys?”
It was Saturday night, and usually that meant noise, movement, people somewhere in the background. At least one of them should have been here.
You caught the small hesitation in Garrett’s face before he answered, and your brows drew together.
“They had plans tonight,” he said. You frowned a little but you let it go.
Garrett carried you upstairs without another word. In his room, you changed into one of his hoodies while he took off his clothes, and soon you were both under the covers.
He pulled you close immediately, wrapping himself around you until his face was buried in your neck, holding you like he knew exactly how much you needed it.
The next morning, you woke slowly to the sound of water running in the bathroom. For a few seconds, you lay there half-awake, staring up at the ceiling, until the events of the night before began to settle back over you in pieces. The dinner. Your father. The tears you had tried so hard to hold back. Garrett’s arms around you when you finally gave in.
He was in the shower.
You turned onto your side and stayed there for a moment, still wrapped in the warmth of his bed, listening to the sound of the water and letting yourself breathe before the day fully began. You wanted to do something nice for him. After last night, after everything he had done without asking anything in return, making breakfast felt like the least you could do.
So you got up quietly and made your way downstairs, still half asleep but smiling a little at the thought of surprising him.
By the time you reached the bottom of the stairs, voices drifted out from the kitchen. Dean, Tucker, and Logan were in there, talking as they moved around, and you instinctively smiled, already ready to step inside before one word caught your attention and stopped you cold.
Garrett’s name.
Your feet came to a halt before you even realized you were listening.
“Coach almost lost his mind,” Logan said. You frowned, standing still in the hallway, unsure what they were talking about but unable to make yourself walk away now.
“I mean, what else was he supposed to do?” Tucker replied. “He spent two months setting that dinner up.” A chair scraped against the floor and your stomach tightened for reasons you didn’t understand yet.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that angry,” Dean said, sounding tired. “Especially because Garrett didn’t show up.” Didn’t show up to what?
“He kept calling him,” Tucker said. “I’m pretty sure he called him like ten times, but his phone was off. I honestly thought he was gonna throw it.”
You took a small step closer without meaning to, your body moving before your mind could stop it. You were still hidden from view but still close enough to hear everything
“The Bruins guy looked pissed too,” Logan muttered. Your face fell the second you heard that.
“What was the point of getting scouts there if the captain couldn’t even show up?” Logan added, and the word landed like a blow.
Your thoughts started moving too fast, too scattered to catch. A dinner. Coach. Garrett not answering. Last night flashed in your head all at once, your question, the hesitation in his voice, the way he’d said the guys had gone out like it was nothing important.
But it hadn’t been nothing. It had been important. Important enough that he should have been there.
Your mouth went dry.
“Has anyone seen him this morning?” Tucker asked.
“No,” Logan said. “He replied to my flood of messages at like twelve.”
“Coach is gonna kill him when he gets to practice,” Tucker said, and the three of them laughed again, but you couldn’t focus on that. All you could focus on was that Garrett had missed something big for you.
“Yeah, he better have a damn good excuse,” Logan said. “Coach was really adamant about Garrett meeting the scouts.” You already knew the answer. You knew exactly where Garrett had been and why he hadn’t gone and it made your throat tighten so suddenly it hurt to swallow.
Then Dean’s voice cut through the silence, lower now.
“Do you think it’s because of her?” The kitchen went quiet after that. No one answered right away.
“I don’t know,” Tucker said eventually, but his voice had lost some of its ease. Your fingers curled tighter around the hoodie you were wearing, the fabric bunching in your fists as you stood frozen in the hallway.
“I’m just saying Garrett’s never blown something like that off before,” Logan said.
Nobody rushed to defend you or argued that the statement he made was false.
Dean spoke again, and this time there was something gentler in his voice, something tired and conflicted.
“I love her,” he said. “I really do. She’s good for him. But Garrett’s been dropping a lot lately. He missed practice when she was sick, which I’m not saying was wrong. I just—I don’t think it’s healthy.”
The words settled over you like cold water.
“Garrett loves people hard,” Dean said after a moment. “When he cares about someone, he gives them everything. But lately it feels like he’s been giving so much of himself away that there might not be anything left.”
You stood frozen in the hallway, your heart beating too hard, too fast, as if it had suddenly forgotten how to be calm. The space around you felt smaller somehow, the walls closing in until it was hard to breathe properly.
And just like that, every ugly thought you had ever tried to bury came rushing back.
The missed practices. The late nights. The way he always showed up the second you needed him. The way he had stayed beside you yesterday instead of being wherever Coach had expected him to be. The way he had held you all night while you cried over a man who had already hurt you more than enough.
Garrett never made you feel guilty, not once. He never sighed like you were asking too much. Never acted irritated. Never made you feel like loving you came with a price. He gave and gave and gave, as if caring for you was the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe that was exactly what scared you because Garrett loved so completely that he didn’t seem to know where to draw the line. He kept reaching, kept giving, kept choosing you so easily that it almost felt like he didn’t notice what it cost him.
Your throat tightened at the thought of the scouts. The Bruins. All the opportunities that people spent years fighting for, hoping for, praying for. And Garrett had let one of them go.
For you.
The realization should have wrapped itself around your heart like warmth. Instead, it sank there like a stone.
Because no matter how many times Garrett told you otherwise, you couldn’t stop thinking the same thing anyway.
He shouldn’t have had to do that.
Your eyes stung.
You loved Garrett. God, you loved him so much it almost hurt to admit it even to yourself. You loved the way he remembered the smallest things about you, the way he reached for your hand without thinking, the way he looked at you like you were delicate in all the right ways—not broken, not a problem, just worth caring for.
But standing there, listening to his friends worry about him, something inside you shifted.
Not because you loved him any less.
Because you loved him enough to be afraid.
Afraid that one day he would wake up and realize how much he had given up for you. Afraid he would look back and see all the things he missed because he chose to stay by your side. Afraid that somewhere down the line, all that love would turn into regret.
And the worst part was that you weren’t sure you would survive it if it did.
A shaky breath left you.
Maybe Dean was wrong. Maybe Garrett would laugh it off and tell them they were overreacting. Maybe none of this meant what your mind was trying so hard to make it mean.
But the thought had already taken root inside your chest and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull it out.
You didn’t remember walking back upstairs, only that somehow your legs carried you there.The conversation from the kitchen replaying endlessly in your head.
Garrett’s been dropping a lot lately.
I don’t think it’s healthy.
You were still shaking by the time you reached his bedroom door, and for a few seconds you just stood there with your hand around the handle, trying to convince yourself that there had to be some other explanation for what you had heard downstairs, some version of the truth that did not leave you feeling like you were about to split open from the inside, but deep down you already knew there wasn’t.
When you finally pushed the door open, Garrett was standing near his dresser pulling a clean shirt over his head, his hair still damp from the shower and darkened at the ends with water, and the second he looked up and saw you, his whole face softened in that easy, familiar way that usually made your chest feel warm.
“Hey,” he said with a small smile, “I was wondering where you went.”
The smile disappeared almost immediately when he got a proper look at your face, and concern replaced it so fast it made your stomach turn. He crossed the room in a few quick steps and stopped in front of you, his hands settling gently on your arms as his eyes searched your face like he already knew something was wrong but needed to hear it from you anyway. “What’s wrong?”
You swallowed hard, because your throat already felt too tight to let the words out easily, but once you spoke there was no stopping it. “Did you miss the scouts dinner yesterday?”
Everything in him seemed to still, not in a way anyone else would have noticed, but you noticed because you knew him too well by now, because you could read the smallest changes in his face like other people read a page. His fingers tightened slightly around your arms before he took a slow breath and looked at you with something that already looked too close to guilt.
“How did you—”
“You did.” Your voice came out sharper than you meant it to. “Please tell me you didn’t miss it because of me.”
He looked away first, and a hollow, disbelieving laugh slipped out of you, though there was nothing funny about it at all, nothing even remotely close to it, and you took a step back before you could stop yourself because suddenly you couldn’t stand the feel of his hands on you anymore, not because he had done anything wrong, but because the guilt inside you was crawling under your skin like something alive.
“Why would you do that?” you asked, shaking your head as if you could physically shake the answer loose. “Why didn’t you tell me? Garrett, I would’ve been fine. It was one dinner.”
His expression softened immediately, and it made him look so sincere, so gentle, so heartbreakingly convinced that he had done the right thing. “You weren’t fine.”
You stared at him. “What?”
“You weren’t fine,” he repeated, quieter this time but no less certain. “You were crying in my car. You could barely breathe. You spent the whole night convincing yourself that your father leaving was somehow your fault.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Your eyes burned instantly. “No, it doesn’t. Hockey matters. Your future matters. Scouts matter.”
“You matter.”
The answer came so fast it sounded like instinct. He said it like he had already decided, already chosen, already let his heart go exactly where it wanted to go, and all you could think about was the cost.
“You can’t keep doing this,” you said, and even to your own ears it sounded like the beginning of a confession you were trying very hard not to make.
He frowned. “Doing what?”
“Choosing me.”
Garrett looked genuinely confused, like he could not understand how something so simple could feel so impossible to you. “As opposed to what?”
“As opposed to everything else.”
He gave a short, humorless laugh and ran a hand through his damp hair. “You say that like I’m being forced into this. I missed one dinner.”
“One dinner with Bruins scouts.”
“So?”
You stared at him, because the fact that he could say it like that, like it was nothing, like it was just one unimportant thing on a long list of other things, made your chest ache in a way that felt almost unbearable. “Do you hear yourself right now?”
“Do you?” His voice wasn’t raised, but there was an edge to it now, frustration finally slipping through. “You needed me.”
“And you needed to be there.”
“I wanted to be with you.”
Tears stung your eyes harder now, and your voice cracked around the next question before you could stop it. “Why?”
The frustration disappeared from his face all at once, replaced by something that looked almost like heartbreak. He seemed to understand then that this was not really about the dinner, or the scouts, or the missed opportunity, and the realization passed between you both in one silent, devastating second.
“Because I love you.”
Your head shook before you could stop it. “That’s not enough.”
His eyes widened slightly. “What?”
“It shouldn’t be enough.” You wiped angrily at the tears slipping down your cheeks, furious at yourself for crying, furious at him for saying the exact thing that made everything inside you feel worse. “You shouldn’t be missing important things because your girlfriend is having a bad day.”
“A bad day?” He looked at you like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “That’s what you think last night was?”
You looked away, because you did not know what else to call it, and the truth was that you had spent the whole night feeling like something inside you was coming apart. All you knew was that he had given up something important because of you, and the weight of that had begun settling in your chest like lead.
“You don’t understand.”
“No,” Garrett said quietly, “I don’t think you understand.”
You looked up at him again, and there was something in his eyes that made your stomach twist. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t annoyance. It was pain, pure and open and immediate. “You keep acting like loving you is some kind of burden.”
Your breath caught. “That’s not—”
“It is.”
His voice cracked just slightly, and the sound of it nearly split you in half.
“You keep acting like every time I choose you, I’m losing something.”
“You are.”
“I’m not”
The force in his voice startled both of you into silence, and for a second all you could hear was the sound of your own uneven breathing. Garrett dragged in a breath, his eyes bright now, and you could tell he was trying not to push too hard, trying not to turn this into something uglier than it already was.
“You don’t get to decide what matters more to me,” he said.
And that was the problem, because he meant it. He meant every word, every choice, every sacrifice, every missed dinner and skipped practice and late night spent holding you together when you were falling apart. There was no resentment in him, no frustration, no regret, nothing you could point to and say this is why I’m leaving, this is the reason it hurts, because he had none of that, and somehow that made everything feel even worse.
You thought about what you had heard downstairs. Dean saying Garrett loved people hard. Logan and Tucker talking about the scouts and Coach and how Garrett had never blown something like this off before. Nobody had denied it, and that silence had scared you more than actual blame would have, because if even they could see it, then maybe the truth had been there all along.
“One day you’re going to regret it,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.
Garrett went very still. “What?”
“One day you’re going to wake up and realize how much you’ve given up.”
His face changed immediately, like the words had hit somewhere deep and ugly and tender all at once.
“You’ll resent me.”
The pain in his eyes was immediate and raw, and it made your throat close up because you had hurt him now, really hurt him, and you hated yourself for it even as you kept going. “I could never resent you,” he said, and his voice was breaking now. “You don’t know that.”
You loved him. God, you loved him so much it was almost cruel, because if you didn’t love him this would have been easier, this would have just been anger or fear or a stupid misunderstanding you could laugh off later, but you did love him, and that made every sacrifice feel heavier, every compromise feel dangerous, every choice feel like another thing waiting to collapse. The realization hit you so suddenly it stole the air from your lungs: you were not afraid he would stop loving you, you were afraid of what happened after he finally realized how much of himself he had given away.
A sob caught in your throat.
He stepped toward you. You stepped back.
You closed your eyes for a second, because you could feel the end of this already, and you knew that if you looked at him too long, you would lose your nerve. “I can’t do this anymore.”
The room went still.
When you opened your eyes again, he looked like he had not understood the words, like maybe if he just stared at you hard enough the sentence would somehow rearrange itself into something kinder.
“What does that mean?”
Your tears came harder now, hot and unstoppable. “I think we should break up.”
The color drained from his face so fast it scared you, and for a second all he did was stare at you, waiting for you to laugh, waiting for you to tell him you were spiraling and overreacting and never meant it, but you didn’t say any of that, because you knew if you did you would never leave, and leaving had become the only thing that felt remotely possible.
“No,” he said finally, but it was quiet, like the word had fallen out of him more than been spoken.
“Garrett—”
“No.” He took one step toward you, his eyes locked on yours. “ because this doesn’t make any sense. You’re upset because I missed a dinner. Fine, be upset. Be angry. Yell at me if you want. But we are not breaking up over this.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Then what is it about?” he asked, and now there was genuine confusion in his voice, almost desperation. “Because I don’t understand. I chose to be there for my girlfriend. Why are you acting like I did something horrible?”
You looked away because he couldn’t see it. Garrett loved you in a way that made sacrifice feel natural, and all you could think about was how much he had already given up to stay beside you. You thought about last night, how he had sat with you through the dinner, how he had squeezed your hand every time he felt you drifting, how he had held you until you fell asleep as if your sadness was his own burden to carry, and now you knew what had cost him that time, what he had walked away from, and suddenly it felt unbearable.
You wiped at your face with the heel of your hand. “I’m tired.”
His expression softened instantly. “Then let’s talk about this when you’ve calmed down.”
Your voice cracked on the word. “No, because if I don’t say it now, I never will.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, forcing yourself to look at him even though it felt like looking straight at the thing that would destroy you. “A part of me was relying on you.”
His brows pulled together. “What?”
“A part of me was relying on you to fix me.”
The words tasted awful the second they were out, humiliating and ugly and too honest to take back. Garrett shook his head immediately.
“No, you weren’t.”
Your voice broke completely this time. “Every time I was sad, every time I felt awful, every time I started spiraling, you were there. Every single time.”
“Because I wanted to be.”
“I know,” you cried, and that was the problem, because you did know. “That’s the problem.”
He looked lost now, and the sight of it made your heart twist with guilt because you had been his whole world for a moment too long, and you had let yourself depend on that feeling because it was easier than facing the mess inside your own head.
“I kept thinking,” you said, voice trembling, “if you loved me enough, maybe eventually all this would go away.”
You gestured helplessly toward yourself, toward the sadness, the anger, the loneliness you had carried for so long you barely knew what it felt like to be without it. “The heaviness. The overthinking. The part of me that always feels wrong.”
“But it didn’t,” you whispered. “It didn’t go away.”
The room blurred through your tears. “I love you so much, Garrett.”
That hurt him. You could see it instantly.
He took a step toward you. “Stop. You don’t have to be fixed.”
“Maybe not.” Your breath shook. “But you shouldn’t have to carry me while I figure out how to fix myself.”
The silence after that was heavy and awful, because he understood now, maybe too much, and the realization sat between you like something fragile and doomed. “I don’t carry you,” he said quietly.
The pain in his voice almost made you change your mind.
“You do,” you whispered back. “You notice everything. When I get quiet. When I stop eating properly. When I start overthinking. When I spiral. You notice all of it.”
“Because I care about you.”
“And I care about you too,” you said, the words coming out desperate now, almost pleading. “That’s why I’m doing this.”
“No,” he repeated, this time with more force, though it still sounded like it was tearing something open inside him. “Don’t say that.”
“You deserve somebody who doesn’t need this much from you,” you said, talking over him now because if you stopped you might lose the nerve to keep going. “You deserve somebody who isn’t sad all the time. Somebody easy.”
His face twisted like you had struck him.
“You think you’re hard to love?” he asked, and the devastation in his voice nearly made you take it all back right there. “You actually think that?”
You looked away, because yes, you did, every day of your life, and hearing it from your own mouth made it worse. Garrett stared at you for a long time before he dragged a shaking hand down his face and let out a breath that sounded like it hurt.
“I’ve spent almost a year loving you,” he said, rough and raw now, “and somehow you’ve convinced yourself I do it because I have to.”
You opened your mouth, but he kept going.
“I don’t stay because I feel sorry for you. I don’t choose you because I’m trying to save you. I choose you because you’re you.”
The tears would not stop now, and you wished they would, because all of this was too much, too honest, too painful to survive in one room. You wanted to believe him, you wanted to take the words and hold them somewhere safe, but there was still that terrified part of you, the part that had been abandoned once and never really recovered, whispering that nothing this good could last.
“What happens when you get tired too?” you asked quietly.
Garrett looked at you like that broke him in a place he had no words for.
He took a breath, and when he spoke again his voice was almost gentle. “Then we deal with it together.”
He always wanted to fix things together. Always wanted to stay, always wanted to talk, always wanted to build something strong enough to survive whatever came next, and you could not stop thinking that someday he would wake up and realize how much he had already given and how little he had gotten back in return.
Maybe that made you a coward. Maybe it made you cruel. But all you could see now was the future, and in it Garrett looked tired and disappointed and quietly resentful, and the image was enough to make your chest hurt all over again.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. You could barely see through your tears anymore, but you forced the next words out anyway because this was the part that would break both of you, and once it started you couldn’t stop it. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” His voice cracked. “We can figure this out.”
You shook your head.
He was already trying, already reaching, already turning this into something solvable, and all you could think was that he should not have to do any of that for you, not after last night, not after the scouts, not after all the pieces of himself he’d already given away just to stay beside you.
The room suddenly felt unbearable. You could not breathe. Could not think. Could not stay one second longer without either collapsing into his arms or saying something even worse.
So before your courage failed you, before you turned into a mess of apologies and broken promises, you reached for the door.
“Please.”
The word stopped you because it wasn’t loud, it wasn’t angry, it was worse than that, it was broken, and hearing him sound like that nearly made you turn around.
You almost did it, almost turned back, almost let him pull you into his arms and undo every word you had just said, but if you looked at him again you would not leave, and if you did not leave now, you knew you never would.
So you opened the door and walked out.
By the time you reached the bottom of the stairs your vision was blurred completely, and the boys were still in the kitchen. Dean looked up first, then Logan, then Tucker, and the second they saw your face, all three of them froze. Concern flooded the room immediately.
“Hey—” Dean stood up so fast his chair scraped the floor. “What happened?”
You could not answer, because if you tried, the sob that had been sitting in your throat for the last ten minutes would finally tear loose and leave you wrecked in front of all of them. Tucker looked toward the stairs, then back at you, and the understanding that slowly settled over his face was almost worse than the confusion.
“Where’s Garrett?” he asked quietly.
You shook your head.
The silence in the kitchen was deafening.
Nobody knew what to say. Nobody knew what had happened. They only knew something terrible had. Behind you, there were footsteps upstairs, fast and urgent, followed by Garrett’s voice calling your name, and the sound of it nearly destroyed you because it was so full of panic and grief and love and everything you could not bear to hold anymore.
You reached for the front door.
You heard someone move behind you, heard Garrett’s voice again, more desperate this time, but you did not turn around, because if you did, you would stay.
So you opened the door and stepped outside, and for the first time in almost a year, you walked away from the person you loved most.
he’s fucked you so good it feels like you’ve just gone through a three hour workout session. you’re sprawled on his bed, his whole weight pressed on top of you, when your stomach clearly didn’t get the memo and lets out a loud grumble.
“you hungry?”
“a little.” you nod, a little breathless. his expression softens instantly, thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “say less. your favorite, yeah?”
which is what brings you both into the kitchen at one in the morning.
he’s quietly whipping up the ingredients for your favorite cinnamon pancakes, trying not to wake the others, while you sit on the counter beside him, a bowl of strawberries balanced between your legs. you bite into one, watching—no, openly admiring—your very attractive boyfriend.
soon-to-be husband, if he keeps this gentleman act up.
the whole “being quiet” thing fails miserably because garrett can’t help cracking dumb jokes and throwing in terrible pickup lines. you laugh way too loud, and he uses it as an excuse to kiss you just to shut you up.
“can you get me the chocolate chips, please?” he mumbles, focused adorably on mixing the dry with the wet ingredients.
you reach into the drawer next to you and hand them over. he leans in to peck your lips in return. “thank you, baby.”
“mhm.”
while waiting for the pancakes to cook, he stands between your legs as you feed him strawberries, rewarding you each time with a soft kiss.
who knew garret “i-don’t-do-girlfriends” graham would be standing in a dimly lit kitchen, hand-feeding his girl pancakes he made from scratch at one in the morning without a single complaint—kissing the syrup off her lips after every bite, making her giggle hysterically. the kind of giggle that makes him grin so wide, looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world.
summary: after a snowstorm strikes, you're stuck in the apartment of none other than your coworker/workplace rival, Rafe, forcing you both to live in a confined space with nothing but your own feelings
content warning: enemies to lovers, workplace rivalry, forced proximity, underlying "there's only one bed", explicit sexual content, rafe being a yearner (again, bc a man who yearns is a man who earns) 18+ MDNI
w/c: 15.9k (i kinda got carried away, again-so sorry)
a/n: the inspiration? toronto was under a polar vortex and I was snowed in 🧍♀️kinda (very) insecure about this one since it's written in a way I usually don't write, but it's still my baby :') enjoy!
The cold flush painted across your face started to finally warm up and fade as you sipped on the warm mulled wine cradled in your hands. Outside, the city was already cold, the harsh winds harrowing as you observed the already-greyed sky become darker as the night settled in. Though the snow that had blanketed over the city was beautiful and dangerous at once, sparkling beneath streetlights. The sound of its crunching under your boots when you stepped into the bar.
Though it was happy hour on a Friday after work, you internally thanked that you could have some peace in the hole-in-the-wall bar you and your work friend had once found a few months back. It was quaint in the way that it felt intentional; the owners, being the older millennials they were through and through, were able to curate the bar to make it look effortlessly cozy. Warm lights hung low over wooden tables and second-hand stools that didn’t match at all. Thrifted decor that made you wish you’d gotten your hands on it first to keep in your home, but no matter how many times you asked, they’d never tell where they got it from. The playlist humming in the back that always added the right ambiance to any topic of discussion.
“You seriously need to go on vacation,” your work friend, Sunny, exclaimed as she eyed you taking a huge sip of your drink. “I can’t remember the last time you took time off for yourself and actually relaxed.”
Offended, you remarked, “No, there was that one time back in December, remember?”
“That was a sick day,” she deadpanned.
“That counts! Plus, I need to make sure the projections and future forecasts are perfect so that the Eden Young acquisition goes according to plan, so I can prove to that buzzed out-cokehead bastard that I know what I’m doing.” You tip your glass over to down the rest of the wine before smacking your lips again, tasting the citrus and spice coat your mouth again. “Plus, relationships are exhausting. I don’t have the energy for that right now.”
This work week couldn’t have gotten any more hectic than it already had been for you as you decided to give yourself more work than your boss had ever expected, and mostly out of your own free will, and slightly to spite the one person you’d been competing against your whole career since you’d first joined the firm. Sunny rolled her eyes, clearly not having heard this the first time.
“Never mind, you need a vacation, and you seriously need to get laid to get whatever this hatred is in your system out.” She pulled out her phone, showing her lockscreen picture of her and her partner, “I mean, look at me and Roxanne! We never got along, and then one day, I got my shit rocked by them, and now we’ve been living together happily for three years.”
“You left your boyfriend during a date and then had sex with them in the bathroom.”
“Thank fuck I did, I don’t know how much longer we could have gone lying to each other.”
You nodded in understanding, “Tris was a good guy; he looks happy with his boyfriend now.” To which Sunny hummed in agreement. Behind you, the door swung open, letting in a sharp gust of cold and the sound of laughter that didn’t belong in a place this calm. Snow scattered across the entryway as two figures stepped inside, shaking off the storm like they weren’t already a nuisance.
Sunny smirked at you.
“Speaking of buzzed-out cokehead bastards, yours just walked in with his little minion.”
You groaned and turned to the bartender with a look of desperation and quiet resignation, sliding your empty glass across the counter. “Espresso martini, please. And triple the amount of vodka.”
The bartender glanced over your shoulder, then back at you, lips twitching. “Rough night?”
“You have no idea,” you muttered.
Rafe Cameron’s voice carried easily through the bar, low and confident, saying something smug enough that it made Sunny snort into her drink. She leaned closer to you, stage-whispering, “Wow. Even his entrance is obnoxious.”
“Please don’t let him see us,” you murmured.
Rafe had immediately spotted you from the entrance of the bar, your silhouette ingrained far too well in his mind. Though it was cold outside, seeing you made the weather feel incomparably warmer, as you never greeted him with the kindness he’s seen you've shown others. Still, riling you up was always fun, even if you managed to get on his nerves with the silent competition that happened between you two, if it meant he got the opportunity to talk to you.
He hated how much he wanted that and hated even more how you consumed his thoughts all the time. The way every giggle you let out while talking to that one analyst from the financial planning and analysis team made his heart race and fester with jealousy – not from the fact that you were enjoying your job, but that he wasn’t the one who was able to get that reaction out from you and instead are met with witty remarks and not-so-subtle eyerolls that he wished he could get out of you through other ways.
There’d been one too many times where he wanted to bang his head into the wall, getting frustrated from when you’d give him a hard time with any joint projects within the team from how stubborn you were with him. Then, heading home wired from the interaction itself, ultimately giving into the urge and jerking off to the sight of you earlier as you were bent over conference tables as you drew out merger tactics.
Your drink was shortly handed to you, along with two shots of tequila. You looked up at the bartender, as he winked at you. “On the house, thought you might need it.”
Right when you and Sunny went to clink your glasses, a familiar scent of pinewood cut through the air.
“Not even an hour off the clock and you’re already downing shots like you’re in a sorority. Have some decorum.”
Slowly, you turned your head. Rafe stood far too close for comfort, jacket shrugged open, eyes flicking between the shots and your expression with clear amusement. Bryan, his little minion, a data analyst who laughed a second too late at everything Rafe said—hovered just behind him, already nursing a beer and pretending not to stare.
You downed the shot in one go, then the second, slamming the glass back onto the bar with a sharp clink before finally looking at him.
Your hand stilled mid-air. Sunny, on the other hand, turned with open interest, eyes flicking between the shots, your frozen expression, and the man now standing far too close to you.
Rafe had shed his coat, the first few buttons of his button-up undone casually like he wasn’t the source of half your professional stress. Snow still clung to the dark fabric at his collar, melting slowly, and when you finally glanced at him, his gaze was already on you with a look of amusement.
You tipped the shot back in one smooth motion, then the second, slamming the empty glass onto the bar before turning to face him fully.
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you asked coolly, your eyes narrowing in on him as he took in your appearance after work. “No one at home to annoy with your snark and flaunt daddy’s money? How do you even know about Bar Poet?”
“Everyone knows about Bar Poet.”
“What? No, no one does.”
Rafe sighed your name in pity and annoyance, a tone you knew all too well and had grown to have a hate-love relationship with. “Then why the fuck is it on the New York Times ‘Top Ten Bars in the City’?”
Sheepishly looking away, you took a sip of your espresso martini before taking in the scene outside. The snowfall had started to pick up, the streets becoming visibly more white as it gusts through. Winters in the city were great, except only when you were in the comfort of your condo, which you couldn’t wait to get to. The idea of a scorching hot bath, the bath salts you’d bought sitting in your bag, and your current read was calling your name, and with Rafe looming over you, it was the only thing that would probably get you through the rest of your evening.
Rafe purposefully hovered over you as he gave his order to the bartender, smirking at the blush creeping up your face as you became acutely aware of just how little space there was between your bodies. You felt an unusual pressure from the core between your thighs grow warm, heat blossoming from the He could feel the heat radiating off you, close enough to notice the way it mixed with the scent of vanilla and something warm, like amber, from your perfume that he’d grown accustomed to.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said Rafe didn’t look at least a bit more different here today than he usually did. He usually did a good job of not letting his
“Relax, Princess,” he said, “we’re only here for a drink anyway.”
“I’ll go grab us a table,” Bryan stated, before Sunny mercifully—or maybe maliciously—decided to fill the silence and grabbed his arm.
“Stay! Look, there’s so much space, and a little birdie told me you saw the bossman at Pilates,” she teased, grinning as she tugged him back toward the bar stool next to her.
Bryan coughed awkwardly, cheeks flushing as he shot Rafe a look. “I, uh—purely coincidental,” he said quickly, suddenly very invested in the condensation on his glass.
“What do you mean it was coincidental? Hiding something, Bryan?” You smirked.
Rafe snorted, rolling his shoulders as the conversation bored him already. “If Bryan’s hiding anything, it’s how he somehow manages to complain about the workload while still never being the one who actually gets blamed when shit hits the fan.”
You shot him a look. “Like how you always send emails at seven o’clock in the morning and then complain that no one respects your time?”
“I work,” Rafe shot back smoothly, “relentlessly. It’s exhausting carrying half the firm on my back and being the only one that the boss can truly rely on.”
“Oh my god,” you muttered into your drink.
“Plus, if you ever did notice, I’m always working late. I couldn’t even remember what my apartment looked like at one point. I don’t recall seeing you at the office until then.”
“That’s because I sit at a focus pod so I don’t have to hear you, Cameron.”
Sunny pointed her finger at you, quick to your defence. “She also hasn’t taken a day off since ever!”
“That’s crazy,” Bryan said, “especially considering Jason always lets Rafe take extra time off.”
“That’s because I work my ass off hard enough for Jason to notice.”
“And the rest of us don’t?” You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed in a V-shape as you studied whatever audacity he had in him to overlook everyone else’s efforts.
“Not as hard as me,” Rafe shrugged nonchalantly, his arms slightly brushing against yours, burning this path into your skin while you tried to tell yourself to get over it. “The numbers speak for themselves.”
“Listen, I get that it’s tiring to be the boss’ pet and constantly dick ride him, but can you not go three seconds without talking about it?" You turn around to face him,
“Careful,” he said lightly, tilting his head toward you. “For someone who claims she doesn’t care, you’re awfully invested in my work ethic.”
Bryan snorted into his beer. “God, you two need to fuck each other before either one of you chokes the other one out.”
“That’s what I said!” Sunny exclaimed, “There’s more sexual tension between these two than there was in the entire 50 Shades of Grey series.”
You scoffed. “Excuse me?”
Rafe blinked once, like the idea had genuinely caught him off guard—though not for the reason anyone else would assume. He recovered quickly, leaning back against the bar. “That’s never gonna happen, Bryan.”
“Yeah,” you said flatly. “I’ll never sleep with someone who probably jerks off to his quarterly performance review.”
A slow smile spread across his face, not because he was offended or embarrassed, but worse. He was actually amused. He leaned in just enough that only you could really feel it.
“Funny,” he murmured. “You don’t want to sleep with me, but you’ve clearly spent some time thinking about it.” His eyes dropped briefly to your mouth before coming back up. “Makes me wonder who’s actually interested here.”
You carefully looked at Rafe, taking in his current state —at the loosened tie, the faint flush in his cheeks from the cold, the way his attention stayed fixed on you no matter who else was talking. It only made the knot in your chest tighten and burn from the inside, from both embarrassment and exasperation. There were one too many times where you’d woken up, heaving for air and sweating profusely from a wet dream, where Rafe had his head between your legs as an apology for the way he’d irritated you at work, or how he’d done the one thing that you’d never forgive him for, no matter how many times you’d thought about how his lips would mould against yours.
“Can you just…not? I’ve had a long week,” you said flatly. “And you’re not helping.”
You looked away, your eyes meeting the bartender’s softened ones, looking back at you. He leaned over the counter, his voice soft as he set another napkin down in front of you, “If it makes you feel any better, you’re the highlight of my day whenever you come in.”
On the napkin was his name, Ryan, and a phone number scribbled in blue ink. You blinked, clearly off guard because he’d remembered you while you barely even knew his name. Heat crept up your neck, a soft laugh slipping out before you could stop it. “That’s very kind of you.”
From beside you, Rafe stiffened. “Hey,” he said coolly, looking at the bartender with a tight jaw and narrowed eyes. “Quit flirting with your customers and focus on making my drink.”
You looked at Rafe like he’d grown three heads as you contemplated ripping his off. The smug smirk on his face added fuel to the growing hatred you had for him. “Rafe!”
“What? Pretty sure I ordered first.”
Sunny’s eyes were practically sparkling at the whole interaction, while Bryan suddenly found his beer even more interesting than it was before. You cleared your throat, overwhelmed by the attention and all the alcohol in your system that was starting to make Rafe’s irritation feel oddly personal as you thought more about it. “I- uh, I’ll be right back.”
You slid off the stool, grabbing your bag a little too quickly as you walked off, trying to ignore the set of eyes you knew were watching you as you went down the narrow hallways. It wasn’t like it happened the first time, every time you had something good happen to you, whether it be praise for your work or a good moment between a coworker and yourself, Rafe had always stepped in and burst your bubble in some way. He’d always managed to take something that was specifically yours and then turn it around for it to be his, leaving no room for you to feel pride in any sort of form. Yet, some part of you kept pulling you back into the cycle in hopes of one day getting your payback and proving him wrong, slightly because while your ego was bruised, it was also so that the younger you, who’d fought tooth and nail to get to where you were now, didn’t sacrifice her own mental sanity for nothing.
Looking into the bathroom mirror, you composed yourself before getting a message from Sunny.
Sunny: Hey, im SO soz but i have to run bc Rox had an emergency! lmk when you get home!!!
“Great,” you muttered to yourself as you braced for whatever was on the other side of the door, “how am I gonna sneak past them?”
Just as you walked out, you collided with a firm frame, only for it to be Rafe’s when you looked up.
“You alright?” Rafe’s voice was low as he steadied you with his hands on your arms, the heat from his arms burning through the fabric of your shirt as if they were made of fire.
“I don’t need your concern, Cameron. I really don’t have the energy for you anymore tonight,” you said, voice as cold as ice as you attempted to push away from him.
“Liar.”
“Yeah? First, you intrude my space after work with whatever audacity you have. Then, you miraculously have the ability to trample over whatever good thing happens to me. And you still expect me to have any energy left for you tonight?”
“Is this what this is about?” Rafe raised an eyebrow, though it was obvious that he was smug about it. “You’re mad that I cockblocked you and that bartender?”
“Oh, don’t try to fucking patronize me.” You leaned in closer, hissing, “This is more than just that, and you know it. You think everything revolves around you, but God forbid the office’s nepo-baby isn’t the centre of attention.”
“I am not a nepo-baby,” he shot back. “He was flirting with you while he was working on the clock. He wasn’t doing his fucking job like he should have and gotten me my drink before.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now? You don’t get to have an opinion about who I talk to or who talks to me.”
“I wasn’t giving an opinion.”
“You literally told him to focus on your drink like-”
“Because he was looking at you like-”
“Like what?” you challenged, stepping closer without realizing it. You both had gotten closer to each other without even realizing it, to the point where you could feel him breathing in the same air as you, focusing on how he took deeper breaths from the exchange. “Like someone who actually enjoys my company? Like someone who actually wants to know me? Sorry that’s such a foreign concept to you, Rafe, but it’s how relationships start.”
His hands flexed at his sides.
“Don’t,” he warned quietly.
“Don’t what? Point out that you can’t stand someone else getting the attention you never got from a girl? That you can’t stand when I-”
You were suddenly caught off by Rafe as he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you like it was his first and last time. It was anything but gentle, the months of pent-up frustration and unspoken tension pouring into it as his hand braced against the wall beside your head as if he needed the support to keep himself from topping you both to the ground. For a split second, you froze, your mind in disbelief that Rafe, the one person who vexed you, who knew how to get you riled up, who you truly despised, was the one who was kissing you.
Then the anger melted straight into heat, feeling yourself melt like butter into the kiss. You slightly gasped into the kiss as he began to move his lips against yours, swiping this against the seams of your lips and tasting the bitterness of coffee on yours. You curled your fingers into this shirt before you could think better of it, slightly moaning against Rafe’s lips.
Rafe initially couldn’t fathom that he’d gone ahead and kissed you mid-conversation, but was even more confused now as he felt you kiss him back. His heart beat faster than it possibly could, his thoughts ran faster though as he felt the softness of your lips move against yours and your hands now placed against his chest. Admittedly, while Rafe was annoyed that he still hadn’t gotten his drink, seeing the bartender be able to flirt with you so effortlessly sparked a possessive flame in him that set off his reaction. You’d never felt at ease with him like you did with a complete stranger, and you’d definitely never give the same doe-eyed look that you’d seen you give to the bartender. He was tired of losing against everyone for someone he was always bickering with for something he wasn’t even sure how it’d started in the first place.
As his body pressed flush against yours, the unmistakable hardness between you made your breath catch. Heat pooled low in your stomach, your hips moving before you could stop yourself, seeking friction against him.
Rafe’s hand slid to the small of your back, fingers spreading wide as he dragged you closer, eliminating whatever space had been left between your bodies. A quiet sound left his throat when you moved against him again — approval, hunger, something darker — and he answered by rolling his hips slowly into yours in return.
“Ahem.” Your heads whipped to a woman with irritation painted on her face, waiting to get to the bathroom door, “Can I… go in?”
You both muttered your apologies and stepped to the side, clearly even more frustrated than before.
“I- fuck,” Rafe breathed out, “You’re coming home with me.” His thumb brushed over your jutted out bottom lip, slow as if he was tracing where he’d left his mark.
Your mind was so hazed over from the alcohol, and even moreso from the intoxicating kiss you both had just shared, you simply nodded your head and picked up your bag from the floor where they’d dropped it. “What about Bryan?”
“He left early, can’t remember what he said though.”
“I’ll just uh,” you looked towards the bar, Ryan’s back was towards you as he helped another customer. “Pay my tab an-”
“Already handled it. C’mon.”
Rafe grabbed your hand, picking up the rest of whatever was left at your spots and heading back out into the cold as the snowfall began to pick up. Even through the limited visibility ahead of you, Rafe’s hand hadn’t let go of you once as he guided you through the city.
Rafe’s lips had barely left you once since you’d entered the building, from the moment the elevator doors slid shut, he was on you. Your back hit the mirrored wall with a dull thud as his mouth crashed against yours, a messy, desperate clash of teeth and tongues as either of you tried to fight for dominance. You hadn’t realized that the elevators had stopped until a bell chimed and Rafe’s face whipped behind to see who’d interrupted. A teenager, no older than sixteen, stared with his mouth agape at the sight of Rafe with his hand on your chest and one of your legs hiked up. Rafe just shot the kid a filthy smirk over your shoulder before the doors closed again.
By the time you stumbled into his apartment, neither of you were pretending this was anything but inevitable. Your bag hit the floor somewhere near the entryway as his coat followed. You barely registered moving down the hallway before the back of your knees hit the mattress. You landed on Rafe’s bed with a soft bounce, the expensive sheets cool against your flushed skin as he trailed his kisses from behind your ear to your neck. He inhaled the smell of your shampoo, citrusy and fresh, while his hands made work of pulling off your shirt. Rafe felt like he was experiencing sex for the first time all over again as his eyes quickly took in the state you were in, your lips swollen, eyes full of need. It was almost like he had complete reign over you, but he still was at your mercy if you wanted him to since he’d never imagined that he’d get to have you in his bed, let alone even kiss you.
You smirked, noticing that Rafe was spacing out, “Cat finally got your tongue?”
Rafe pinched your nipple through your bra, making you arch against his body. “You have such a fuckin’ mouth on you, even in bed.”
“And you aren’t doing anything,” you countered, as you undid your bra and threw it to the side. “I could’ve gotten myself to cum by now.”
Rafe followed, stripping himself quickly while throwing in, “So that’s why you’re always in a mood, because no one’s ever been able to get you off.”
“Shut up, I could make you cum before I do - oh my god,” you breathed out just as Rafe took your breast in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple. Your nails dug into his shoulders, a sharp, satisfying pain that made him hiss.
"You talk too much, princess," he snarled, yanking your dress pants down your legs. He hooked his fingers into your panties and tore them, the flimsy fabric giving way with a sharp sound. "Always have something to say." He spread your thighs roughly, his gaze dropping to the slick heat between them. A cruel, triumphant smile twisted his lips. "Look at you. Already soakin’ for me."
"Go to hell," you breathed, but it came out as a moan as he dragged a finger through your folds, circling your clit without giving you the friction you desperately craved. It was a power play, and you both knew it. He wanted you begging for more, and oddly enough, something in you wanted to see how long you could make him make you work for it before he broke and caved in on himself. Rafe continued to collect the slick that’d collected between your thighs, feeling you become wetter. His finger continued its maddening dance, a slow, deliberate circle that never quite touched the pulsing, sensitive nub at your core. Your hips bucked involuntarily, trying to chase the friction, to force his hand where you needed it most. You breathed out his name, feel frustrated from the building tension yet with not going further like you needed him to. “Faster, please.”
“Saying please?” He shifted, his knee pressing between your thighs, forcing them wider. He lowered his head, his lips brushing against yours, a feather light touch that was more torment to you than comfort. “That’s a first, princess.”
"Asshole," you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders, hard enough to draw blood hoping it hurt. Then Rafe’s hand came down, landing a sharp, stinging slap directly onto your exposed pussy. The jolt was electric, a bolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure intermingled with pain that shot straight to your core. You cried out, your forehead resting against the cool glass as your body trembled.
"Oh my god," your voice a ragged whisper.
He obliged. Another sharp slap, then another, until you were a quivering mess, your body humming with a desperate, frantic energy. "You like that, don't you?" he taunted, his voice akin to a dark caress. "Look at you," he snarled in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "All high and mighty, but you're dripping for me, aren't you? So desperate for my cock you can't even think straight."
Rafe wasn't wrong. You could feel the slickness coating your inner thighs, a humiliating betrayal of your body's desire. He ran his fingers through your drenched folds, a cruel, exploratory touch that had you writhing against the glass. "So fucking wet from jus’ that," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Jesus." He brought his slick fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a groan of pure satisfaction. The sight was so obscene, so possessive, it made your knees weak.
“You taste so fuckin’ good, just as good as you look.” Rafe inserted a finger into you, pumping in and out as he leaned in to kiss you again. You could taste yourself on his tongue, feeling dirty about the whole ordeal. It wasn’t long until Rafe pushed another finger into you, coaxing you that you’d been ready for it because of how wet you were. Though you had no capability to think, this was the wettest and most turned on you’d been since forever.
You pulsed around his fingers, gripping onto them, and he kept moving, and felt the tension in the apex of your tights becoming tighter when you realized that he’d been close to getting you to cum first. It pained you to have to deny your own orgasm, but you’d be damned if you let Rafe win; it’d give him the ego boost you couldn’t afford to give, even on your deathbed.
In an instant, you pulled yourself away from the kiss and guided Rafe’s hands out of you before sinking to the ground and onto the plush carpet. It almost pained you to have to ruin them, knowing you were dripping of arousal on what felt like a designer carpet, but once you’d remembered that Rafe had come from money, it didn’t feel as bad. Rafe watched you through hooded eyes and the lingering thought of how angelic you looked at that moment as you freed his cock from his boxers, your hands wrapping around the base of it, and it slightly twitched — thick, long, and flushed in a deep shade. The head was already leaking with beads of precum that’d evidently been smeared, and you guided it to your mouth.
Rafe couldn’t wait any longer, thus fisting his hand into your hair and shoving himself inside. He moaned at the feeling of your warm mouth enveloped around his cock, and even moreso melting at the sight of your current state—the way your lips stretched around him as he guided you up and down, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged, tears springing to your eyes, but you didn't pull away. You took it, taking him deeper, relaxing your throat to accommodate his brutal size. He set a punishing rhythm, fucking your face with a raw, primal need. "That's it, princess," he grunted, his hips pistoning. "Shit, if I’d known how good you were with your mouth, I’d have shut you up a long time ago." You slapped one of his thighs, looking up at him in annoyance.
He pulled you off him, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to the glistening head of his cock. He hauled you to your feet and threw you onto the bed, making you bounce on the mattress. You scrambled to your hands and knees, but he was on you before you could get away. He covered your body with his, his weight a delicious, suffocating pressure, and lined himself up with your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through your soaked folds to tease you.
"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice a low growl against your ear. "Beg for it."
"Fuck you," you spat, pushing back against him, trying to impale yourself on his cock.
He huffed out a controlled breath and grabbed your hips, stilling your movements. "God, I have to do everything, don’t I, Princess?" He delivered a sharp, stinging slap to your ass. "C’mon. Beg," he commanded again, his voice leaving no room for argument. Rafe pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that stole your breath. He saw everything—the desperation, the hate, the reluctant desire. He saw you, completely undone, and he loved it.
You tried your best to move, you really did, but Rafe’s grip was too strong. Though you kept a grip on yourself, refusing to give in as you were somewhat eager to see if his walls would crack just enough for you to take charge. While Rafe wasn’t used to his conquests in bed ever disobeying him, he felt himself throb even more at how you’d always managed to put up a fight and in a way, it fascinated him even more to see the lengths you’d go to get the orgasm he so desperately wanted you to have first. He landed another smack to your ass again, your skin feeling like it was on fire, before picking you up and placing you to the side.
You stared at him, confused as he moved away from the bed, “Wh-what? Where are you going?”
Rafe shrugged, “You don’t want to beg, and I’m not gonna give an orgasm to someone who’s bein’ a brat.”
“Fine,” you lay down on the bed while looking at him, “then I guess you don’t mind if I get myself off to the thought of Ryan.”
“Excuse me?” He felt the same jealousy burn in him again, but tried to keep his cool. His eyes followed to where you started to rub circles against your clit, before looking back into yours. Neither of you broke eye contact, but rather, you let out a lazy, yet daunting, smile as your fingers began to get to work. It was a calculated risk, but as soon as you noticed the flash of fury in Rafe’s eyes, it all became worth it. His composure that he often held, the one that could never falter, soon crumbled to dust. He was no longer the detached observer; he was a man possessed.
Your fingers dipped lower, gathering your slickness before returning to your clit, rubbing a little faster, a little harder. You let out a soft, breathy moan, a sound you knew would drive him insane. "He probably would have done anything I asked."
That did it. A low, guttural growl ripped from Rafe's chest, a sound of pure, primal rage. He was looming over you in the second, putting your movements to a halt as he kissed you again, almost like he was taking possession of you. Rafe rubbed his length through your folds, lubing himself with your slick, and in with one brutal, unforgiving thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.
You screamed, a raw, guttural sound of pure ecstasy as he split you open. Rafe gave you no time to adjust, setting a fast pace from the very beginning. Each thrust was a punishment, a claim, a reminder of every hateful word you'd ever exchanged. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a lewd, percussive rhythm that was the soundtrack to your destruction. He reached around and found your clit, his fingers rubbing tight, merciless circles. The dual stimulation was too much.
“Cum for me,” he demanded.
“You cum first,” you spat back. He increased the pressure on your clit, thrusting harder than he was doing before. His touch was rough and insistent, matching the brutal pace of his hips. The dual stimulation was a sensory overload, a delicious, agonizing assault on your senses. The anger, the jealousy, the hate—it was all melting away, consumed by the white-hot fire of his possession.
“I’m gonna count to five, and then you’re gonna cum.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Oh, trust me,” Rafe smirked. “You will.”
Rafe’s grip on your hip tightened, his other hand fisting in the hair at the nape of your neck, tilting your head back. His body was a hard line against yours, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.
“One,” he gritted out, his voice a low growl as he drove into you with a sharp, powerful thrust that stole your breath. The pressure built instantly, a familiar tension building up again in your belly. He didn't give you a chance to adjust before he moved again.
“Two,” he counted, the sound rough and possessive. This thrust was deeper, harder, designed to push you closer to that edge. A desperate cry escaped your lips, your nails digging into the sweat-slick skin of his back. He paused for a fraction of a second, letting the anticipation hang in the air before his hips snapped forward again.
“Three.” The word was punctuated by a thrust that hit that perfect spot deep inside you, making your vision blur with pleasure. The coil in your stomach tightened to an almost painful degree, your entire body trembling with the need for release.
“Four,” he snarled, his rhythm becoming erratic, his control clearly fraying. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your broken moans and his harsh breathing. You were right there, teetering on the precipice, waiting for the final push.
“Five.” The last number was a guttural declaration as he slammed into you one final, brutal time, holding himself deep as he whispered against your lips, “Cum for me, princess. Show me who you belong to.” His words were your undoing. Your orgasm tore through you, a violent, convulsive wave that ripped a scream from your lungs. Your body spasmed, your vision going white as pleasure, sharp and absolute, consumed you. Wave after wave of intense, overwhelming pleasure pulsed through you, leaving you a shaking, breathless mess in his arms. He fucked you through it, his thrusts becoming erratic, his breathing ragged in your ear as he chased his own release.
"Mine," he grunted, his grip on your hips tightening painfully. "You're fucking mine."
With a final, guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came, his hot release flooding you. He collapsed to your side, your body already missing the way his kept you warm, then pulled you over to face him. He kissed you again, slower and more intense, like you’d vanish if he stopped. You explored him, tasting the Jack Daniels that was left on his tongue from the bar, memorizing the texture of his lips, the sharp edge of his teeth. You rocked your hips again, a slow, deliberate grind that had him groaning into your mouth before pulling away.
Rafe stroked your hair, his touch surprisingly gentle. The silence was heavy, thick with the unspoken truth that had just been violently fucked into existence. It wasn’t long until your felt your eyes begin to close, your mind succumbing to the rest it so desperately needed.
The first thing you noticed was pure white light seeping through the windows and a type of silence you hadn’t heard in years. The sheets were softer, heavier, and more luxurious than the ones you’d bought from a department store before moving here, smelling faintly of something unfamiliar, like cedar and laundry detergent instead of your usual lavender.
Your eyes opened slowly, confusion knitting your brows together as you took in the unfamiliar ceiling, the unfamiliar bedding, the unfamiliar sunlight filtering through curtains that definitely did not exist in your apartment. Then you felt the weight and the steady heat of another body pressed against yours. An arm draped over your stomach and soft snores that hummed close to your ear. Carefully turning your head, you moved to see where you were — and nearly choked.
Rafe was blissfully sleeping right next to you. Naked. Just like you.
“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, elongating the word as the reality of your situation settled in, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
It almost made you scream, dread filling you as you tried to navigate how you’d leave without waking him up. As slowly as you could, you lifted Rafe’s arm off of you and quickly placed a pillow underneath it before moving away. Looking around, it terrified you how minimalistic and lifeless his apartment looked, almost as if it had replicated itself from American Psycho. Almost like it was a reflection of Rafe himself, cold, calculated, and anything but lively. You made quick work to get dressed when you looked to see Rafe’s button-up from last night lying next to your blouse on the ground. As a final fuck you, you slipped it on and grabbed yours and headed out, grabbing your bag and coat on the way that you’d put on in the lobby to not waste another second.
Though you could barely tell what you’d even seen of the apartment last night, stepping through the hallway, it became apparent that you’d set foot in only a fraction of what seemingly looked like a mansion. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the living space, sunlight pouring in over sleek furniture that looked like it belonged in a showroom rather than somewhere someone lived.
“No wonder he forgot what his apartment looked like,” you muttered to yourself as you walked to the door, where a singular picture frame hung on a small corner of the wall next to the entrance. In it held a picture of Rafe, who looked no older than four, being held by a woman who looked exactly like Rafe.
His child-like eyes were soft, much softer than the hard ones that you were used to seeing all the time, and a genuine smile that held happiness that could only stem from the joy of being young and naive. It made your heart ache to wonder what happened to have turned that little boy into someone who was no different from a robot, or how this was the same person who you held resentment for, when he was someone’s baby.
Your stomach twisted unexpectedly. You’d always assumed Rafe lived the way he came off to be, loud and chaotic, but instead, the apartment felt quiet and controlled. Even more so lonely, like he’d been put in the most luxurious, minimalistic jail for a crime he’d never confess to. You were snapped out of your thoughts when someone started knocking at the door, scaring you because if Rafe woke up and caught you sneaking out, you’d be in even deeper in a mess than you already were. So you did the most logical thing.
You opened the door.
On the other end was a man who looked to be a part of the building’s management team, staring at you in the same way you were at him. You leaned against the doorframe, trying to look as natural a homeowner as possible.
“H-hey,” you glanced down to find his nametag, only to realize he didn’t have one. “What brings you here?”
“Good morning, miss,” he said cautiously, “I just came with an important message if I could just let t-”
“You can let me know! Matter of fact, I was just about to head out, let me grab my things, and we go.”
“Well, miss, I wish I could, but I really need to tel-”
“Yeah, no, yeah, I’ll hear you out. Don’t worry. Just need to get this other—umph—heel on, and we’ll go. Sorry, what did you say your name wa-”
“Hey, Louis.” Your face dropped as you froze up. If someone were pumping a cooling agent into your bloodstream, you could definitely feel it with the way your blood ran cold. Rafe came up behind you, his hand on the small of your back as he came to the doorframe to speak directly to the man who was clearly judging you now. His voice, thick with sleep, rasped, “I see you’ve met my…friend. Is everything okay?”
“Ah, yes, she’s quite the talker. I just wanted to personally let you know that we’re advising everyone to stay inside due to the weather and our ability to get out.”
“What do you mean?”
“The doors are blocked, we’ve been snowed in.”
“What?” You yelped, “You mean I’m stuck here?”
“Uh, yes? Were you not aware that there was a snowstorm today? It was all over the news.”
“Okay, thank you for letting us know, Louis,” Rafe interjected, “Have a good day.” With that, you were pulled back into the apartment and the door shut. Rafe was now leaning against the hallway wall, blocking you from going any further. His shirtless frame, messy hair, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips threw you off. You could tell he was eyeing you, taking in the sight of his shirt on your body, then back to your face.
“It’s one thing to leave someone alone in bed, acting like last night never happened,” he started, the corner of his mouth twitched, “Stealing my clothes as well? I must say, that’s very bold of you to do.”
“Had to give you the whole experience,” you sarcastically shot back before pushing him aside to look out of the windows to assess the situation. A quiet huff of amusement left him, but it faded just as quickly when he glanced toward the windows.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “About that.”
You looked out to see nothing but snow, not just falling, but piling. Thick white sheets that had already blanketed the streets below more than it already had last night, cars barely visible, wind still whipping flakes sideways against the glass.
“No,” you breathed.
Rafe dragged a hand down his face. “Storm warning came in overnight. Roads are shut down.”
You turned slowly toward him. “You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was, princess.”
The realization settled between you both, “I’m stuck with…you? For the next two days?” You panicked.
“Not how I wanted to spend the only days I have away from you, either.”
You ignored him, trying to find a way out, “There has to be an Uber available for me to go-” you were cut short again when you saw that there were no rides available. “I was supposed to go house-sitting for my sister. Ugh.”
“Is that why you looked like you’re carrying a duffle bag at work, but you still wanted to take my Tom Ford?”
“It does not look that big.”
“I can see three sets of clothes packed in there right now. But yeah, by all means, take the shirt I bought with my own money.”
“You’re not gonna die without it, you fuckin’ crybaby. And yes, she’s gone to Mexico to meet her boyfriend’s parents.” You stared out, trying to figure out how to get out of here to not only save yourself from the impending truth about how you’d slept with Rafe, but also that you enjoyed it to the point where you felt yourself heating up at the thought of last night. Rafe walked away, overwhelmed that you were not only wearing his shirt like he’d once dreamed of, but that he’d have to spend two days with you even though you both couldn’t stand to be around one another.
It wasn’t until moments later when Rafe walked up and offered you a protein bar, “It’s for breakfast.”
You stared at it, “You don’t have any food in the house?”
“I do, but the chef I hired won’t be able to come in so...”
“And you don’t know how to cook?” You stared at him incredulously, wondering how he could live in such a place, with the most beautiful kitchen you’d ever seen, and not even use it. “You have groceries, just make something.”
“I don’t have time for that.”
“You know damn well you do,” you replied, walking over to open the fridge, with you being met with rows of neatly organized containers and glass bottles of green juice. Typical, you thought to yourself. There was enough food to feed a family of five.
“If I did, I wouldn’t have hired someone,” he said defensively behind you. You turned, brows raised. “And now you have all the time in the world, yet you’re relying on a protein bar.”
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you move around his kitchen like you belonged there, opening cabinets to pull out a pan, then tying your hair back with the elastic from your wrist.
Something in his chest tightened once he realized what you were about to do. No one had ever willingly done anything for him before without expecting something in return, at least not since his mother passed.
“You don’t have to—” he started.
“I know,” you cut him off. “I want to.”
Rafe went quiet, before you spoke up again. “But you’re going to do it with me.”
The rest of the day went by with both of you actively avoiding each other, except every single opportunity between you two led to both of you irritating each other.
You both were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, Rafe mindlessly scrolling on his phone while you watched TV.
“You breath loud” he said without looking up.
You turned slowly, “I do not breath loudly. Have you heard yourself snore?”
“Someone paid attention last night,” Rafe smirked. You shook your head, looking away from him and returning back to where you’d left off. “What are you even watching?”
“You hate it.”
“Put it back on,” he said when you reached for the remote.
Oddly enough, Rafe had offered to make you coffee as a way to warm you both up, but your skepticism made you follow him into the kitchen when he was taking too long. On the counter, a mug, handthrown and nothing like the aesthetic that Rafe had going on in this place, was set.
You grabbed it without thinking twice, hoping it’d be a quick exit for you to get back to your book, when you took a sip and immediately grimaced.
“Jesus, Rafe, this tastes like—”
“That’s mine.”
You froze mid-sentence. Slowly, you looked down at the mug in your hand, seeing nothing but black coffee swirling in its confinements, then back up at him. He was leaning against the counter, holding another cup that was identical to yours except your coffee was lighter.
“My sister, Wheezie, she got into pottery and sent this over to me a while back,” He walked over to you, holding your coffee mug out. “Made yours with cream and sugar.”
“You couldn’t label it?” you muttered, suddenly very aware of where your lips had just been.
“You didn’t ask.”
You scoffed, but handed the mug to Rafe in exchange for your drink. You watched as he turned it slightly in his hand, almost deliberately aligning it, then lifted the mug to his mouth and drank from the exact same spot your lips had just touched.
Your stomach flipped.
“That’s disgusting,” you said, but your voice came out thinner than you intended. Rafe lowered the mug, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth.
“Didn’t seem to bother you five seconds ago.”
Heat crept up your neck.
“You’re insufferable.” You took a sip from the mug, painted to look whimsical as ever, and smiled a little, “But your sister has a talent for painting though.”
Rafe’s phone buzzed once, and a couple more times afterwards, making you slightly annoyed as you continued to read your book.
Then he laughed, though it wasn’t in his usual sharp, detached huff, but something lighter. Warmer. The kind of laugh you’d heard before, back when boys thought they were subtle about having a crush. Your stomach twisted as it lingered over the possibility that all this time, Rafe was infatuated with someone else while you’d slept with him. Even worse, you’d began to feel warmer towards Rafe, where his glance made you slightly weak in the knees instead of digging your nails into the palms as you’d clenched your fists. Perhaps Sunny had been right, you did need to get laid, but getting laid by Rafe was not what you anticipated that she meant.
You glanced over, “Who’s that?”
“Why do you care?”
“You’re smiling at your screen! You never smile, period.”
Rafe turned to look at you and rolled his eyes, “So? It’s none of your business.”
You looked away, your cheeks blushing in embarrassment. Rafe was right, it really was none of your business and the fact that you cared more than you should have for someone you thought you despised mortified you.
It wasn’t until a bit later when he spoke up, “It was a picture of my niece from my sister, if you were wondering.”
Walking into the living room, you found Rafe doing push-ups on the floor. Shirtless.
Of course.
You rolled your eyes as you walked over to grab your laptop from your bag. “Is this really necessary?”
“Yes, I can’t miss a single day.”
“You live in this big ass fancy apartment and they don’t have a gym here?”
“It’s not like the one I go to,” he pushed up. The muscles on his back flexed as he continued his movements, making your mouth go slightly dry. He looked back up at you, sweat droplets dragging down his forehead and he noticed you in a trance. “You staring?”
“What? No, I’m judging you and your lack of form.”
“Sure you are.”
You grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at his head, but to your surprise, he caught it mid-air without breaking form.
“Don’t you have anything else to do?” He said between reps, his voice heavy.
He dropped to the floor again, slower this time. You hated how your eyes followed the movement, seeing his back flex made you wonder about what it felt to have touched them last night. The way his short spurts of breath and heavy whimpering reminded you of what you’d heard as Rafe thrusted into you made confused all over again, so you grabbed your things and walked away.
“You folded that wrong.” Rafe said, watching you handle his laundry.
“It’s a towel, Rafe, how else does one fold it?”
“It has a system,” he walked over to the living room where you’d set up his laundry, grabbing it from you and rolling it up, “and don’t touch my stuff.”
“You left it in the dryer for God knows how long,” you fussed, “I need to do mine too if I’m stuck here. Instead of being a tad bit grateful that I’m keeping this place functional, you keep bitching at me.”
“I’m not the one with a stick up her ass,” Rafe shot back, completely unbothered, hands shoved into his sweatpants pockets.
You scoffed. “Please. If anyone here has a stick up their ass, it’s—”
Something cold smacked into the side of your shoulder.
You froze. Slowly, you looked down to find snow, packed into a neat little ball, already crumbling against your sweater.
Rafe stood three feet away by the balcony, lips pressed together like he was trying not to smile. Your jaw dropped. “Did you just—”
Another snowball hit you. This time square in the chest, making you gasp.
“Oh, my- RAFE!”
You lunged for the small pile of snow gathered along the balcony edge, scooping some up and launching it at him. He dodged the first one easily, laughing which only made you more determined.
“I am hilarious,” he said, ducking again, then retaliating with one that caught your hip. “You’re just mad you’re losing.”
“I am not—”
You stepped forward too fast.
Your sock hit melted slush.
The world tilted.
There was a split second where you realized you were going down—followed immediately by the impact of Rafe grabbing for you, which only made both of you lose balance entirely. You landed on your back with a startled gasp, feeling the impact of the hard surface beneath you, only for Rafe to land on top of you. Neither of you moved, simply looking each other in the eyes. Rafe broke contact first, just to glance down at your lips, though you caught it. Snowflakes drifted down around you as the wind blew some threw the open balcony door. Rafe’s weight braced on his forearms so he didn’t crush you, but still close enough that you could feel his breath against your cheek.
Then you started laughing. You weren’t even sure why, maybe from the adrenaline, or perhaps the absurdity of this situation as a whole was insane enough. Rafe blinked down at you—and then he laughed too. A warm, genuine laugh, eliciting the same way you felt when you saw his baby picture of him, almost as if you wanted to take him in your arms and tell him that he’s okay, that he doesn’t need to keep playing the cold, restrained person he always came off as.
Soon, your laughter faded when you realized how close your faces where. You could see the tiny scare near his eyebrow, the way his pupils were blown wider than normal, and the faint baby pink flush in his cheeks from the cold. Your voice came out softer than you meant. “I… have bath salts.”
His brows pulled together slightly. “What?”
“In my bag,” you clarified, suddenly very aware of his hands still planted on either side of you. “If you… wanted to warm up together. Since this is technically your fault.”
A beat.
Then his mouth tilted into that slow, dangerous smile you were starting to recognize.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, okay.”
The bathroom filled with steam quickly, the large tub taking longer than expected to fill. You both hovered in that awkward not-awkward space of pretending this was normal while absolutely knowing it wasn’t.
“You’re getting in with your clothes on?” Rafe asked, nodding towards your discarded sweater.
“They’re underwear,” you said defensively. “And you’re literally wearing sweatpants.”
“They come off.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday,” you scoffed as you stepped out of your sweatpants and placed them to the side. “No need to be a smartass.”
“Pretty sure I can be anything I want in my house, princeess.” You hated how easily your body betrayed you, the way your pulse softened instead of spiking like it would when he’d call you that in the office.
A few minutes and Rafe dumping more than half of your bottle of bath salts later, you both were in the tub, him in his boxer briefs, you in underwear and a thin tank, knees bumping occasionally under the water as lavender-scented steam curled between you two. For once, neither of you were talking, afraid to ruin an intimate moment as this that’d come after a day of banter and snark thrown at each other.
Rafe sat across from you, arms resting loosely along the sides of the tub, but his shoulders stayed tight — like he was hyperaware of every inch of space between you, or the way your bodies would accidentally touch and then immediately pull away from each other. Even then, Rafe would count the seconds until it’d happen again. His eyes were fixed on his thumbs as he twiddled them to distract himself from staring at your features and wondering how he’d carve them if he’d been a sculptor back in the sixteenth century. He was feeling more vulnerable than he’d ever felt since he’d moved away from his hometown.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like, he should’ve been more resentful towards you. He should have just stayed in his home office and let you roam about like he wasn’t even there, that’s what he would’ve done at the office. Instead, he found himself wanting to be around you all the time, like leaving you to be on your own wasn’t an option, even if it meant bickering with you all the time. Bickering was barely an issue to him anymore, Rafe enjoyed it because at least it meant someone paid attention to him past the surface level and materialism that he had to offer. You’d spent the day in his kitchen, on his couch, arguing with him, laughing at him, even laughing with him. Being forced to exist in a space that had never felt like anything more than a hotel room that he happened to call home, until now.
Rafe loved the way you fought him, even if it peeved him a little. He loved how you never folded when he pushed, and he pushed you a lot more than he should, just to see if you’d still be there after. He loved when you’d call him out when he knew he deserved it. He loved the way you never thought twice to speak your mind during business meetings, even having a civil argument that he knew he would’ve fumbled if he let his emotions get the best of him. He loved how you’d always leave at 2:30 to grab an iced latte with Sunny but still stay late to make up for the time you’d wasted.
Love. Rafe loved you. Yet, you’d never know it.
The worst part was knowing you reacted to him the way he’d reacted to everyone else, but he couldn’t understand what made you resent him in the first place. Every bite in your tone was something he’d handed to you first. He hated that about himself. He hated that the best day he’d had in years had been spent doing nothing but arguing and cooking and throwing snow at each other like children.
Rafe hesitated to speak up and ask why you felt the way you did, afraid that he’d say the wrong thing and you’d leave him to cool in the steaming mist. He glanced at you through the steam, only to find you staring at the water, absentmindedly dragging your fingers through it. You would never realize that you’d shifted something inside him just by staying, and he knew he’d forever yearn for the chance to explain how he adored you in ways he’d only ever seen his mother adored in, or how he had the same glint in his eyes like his sister, Sarah, did when she met her partner. You’d never understand why he’d felt so at peace just laying in your arms, even if it was a night you both did on a spur, or how his hand molded the small dip of your back so perfectly, that he’d keep it there forever, even if it meant using superglue.
His train of thought finally stopped in its tracks when you’d spoken up, “Who’s the woman with you in that picture?”
Rafe looked up again to see you looking at him with a curious look, making him almost soften from the inside from how innocent and real it made you look, though, it felt far more dangerous than any insult you’d ever thrown at him.
“Which one?”
You looked at him knowingly, almost as if you could sense the internal battle of thoughts that were in his mind. You softly replied, not wanting to come off as snarky as you usually did. “You know which one I’m talking about.”
His chest loosened. “That’s my mom,” he said, voice softer than he intended. Something in your expression shifted — subtle, but he caught it. The tension in your shoulders stayed, but your mouth parted just slightly like you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until now.
“Oh.”
“She died when I was younger. It’s one of my favourite pictures I took before leaving my hometown.” He paused, watching you process it.
“I’m so sorry, Rafe.”
Rafe shrugged it off and looked away, his jaw tightening for a moment like he was bracing for impact. “She was the only one who ever really believed in me. Like, even if I’d been scared to do something, she never let me feel doubt in myself.
“Mom kind of just made me feel like I… belonged, y’know? Sarah had my dad on her side, but with Mom, I knew she was in my corner. But she never chose between us. She used to always tell me how she hopes I’m just as good of a person in the future.”
He chuckled to himself over the irony of it all, “Guess I screwed that up when she died. It was like everything flipped and I kept tripping over myself for everything I did.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t like that,” you tried to reassure him, the gesture feeling foreign to do it to him, specifically, “
“No, it was-” Rafe cut himself off and huffed a breath. He tried to steady himself as he continued. “My dad… He was nothing like her.” He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers dragging slowly as though the words weighed like burdens on his neck that he kept holding up.
“After she died, I was just- I felt SO alone and it didn’t help that he’d dialled in on me and held it against me. Every mistake I made, every time I screwed up… he made sure I didn’t forget it.” His throat worked around the next sentence. “And I gave him plenty to work with.”
You didn’t say anything but swish through the spacious bathtub to sit next to him, the water’s rippling slowing as you settled next to him. Close enough that he felt the warmth of you, close that he didn’t feel alone with the memories he was recounting.
“I’m not proud of the stuff I did,” he said quietly. “The drugs, the fights… losing control all the damn time. I was out of hand. And he’d look at me like I wasn’t just disappointing him — like I was confirming everything he already believed.” Rafe could already hear the scold and lectures that Ward had given him, replaying like a vinyl that set to play any time through his brain at any given moment.
“I know I deserved him to lash at me, I had to be straightened out. But I just wanted my dad… I just wanted him to at least try to make it feel like mom wasn’t gone.” His fingers curled at his sides. You reached out, your hand brushing his arm, but it was enough for him that he felt it all the way down to his chest.
“He got me this job kind of as repayment for a favour he’d done for Jason a while back. For once in my life, it’s the real chance I’ve gotten to make something of myself and prove that I’m not the screwup he decided I was. I don’t even care what I have to do to do it, I just want to prove him wrong, so he’d shut up and not see me as some fuck up.”
“Rafe,” you spoke up, “You don’t have to prove anything to someone who never tried to understand you.” His eyes flicked to yours, wary of you as he searched the slightest amount of sarcasm in your voice.
“But if you want to prove something to yourself?” you continued. “Then do it the way you want, not the way your dad wants you to.”
For a second, he didn’t move. Then his shoulders loosened, not from pain this time, but from being able to take off one of the weights he had on his shoulders and breathe a little better. “It’d been so many years, I almost forgot what her laugh sounded like,” he paused, “until I heard yours. You kind of have the same laugh as hers.”
Guilty and warmth bloomed in you, brewing low in your chest in a way that you hadn’t expected. Part of you made it feel adored that he’d specifically looked for your voice, that he actually liked it. Yet, it weighed on you that even with such a comparison, you thought of all the times he thought of his mother, hurting over her absence and having a painful reminder that he’d have to listen to without any control over it.
You swallowed, your chest tightening with a tenderness you weren’t ready for. “She sounds like someone anyone would’ve been lucky to know.”
All Rafe could do was nod, he could feel his pulse in his throat that signals the familiar edge of panic he’d get whenever he thought about his past. Vulnerability always felt like a mistake, so it was easier to push it down and be harsh to everyone else around him, because he’d indirectly just be disciplining himself to not be weak. He saw it though, the way you didn’t look at him and think he was weak as he poured his biggest flaw in him to you.
Rafe couldn’t tell if it was just his emotions getting in the way, or if his feelings for you had started to feel even more prevalent as he felt the water move between your bodies, becoming more aware that you were next to him, that you willingly moved to by his side. He wasn’t sure if he deserved that kind of steadiness from someone — but for the first time in a long while, he wanted to try. Wanted to be someone his mom would’ve recognized, someone she would’ve been proud of. Then he remembered how he got to this point in the first place, and took the leap of faith that he’d been hesitant to take for a while.
“Why do you hate me so much?” Rafe asked bluntly, wincing once he realized that he’d probably ruined the moment. He watched as you stopped your movements and looked at him like he’d said the most obvious thing ever.
“You don’t remember?”
“I- no? You keep acting so hostile towards me and I don’t even have a clue what I did.” Rafe felt helpless, not even remotely knowing what he might have done to you for him to make you act this way except compete against you to see who was better.
You scoffed to yourself, not believing that he wasn’t aware of it. Suddenly, you felt like you were in that meeting room all over again, sitting in the seat as you sank further into it. The harsh lights in your eyes that made blurred whatever happened afterwards, the tight knot in your throat and the way your palms had gone cold as you pretended that it all didn’t sting.
The memory hit you so sharply you almost forgot to breathe.
Of course he didn’t remember. Why would he? To him, it had probably been a gateway to where he was now versus your current position at work. Something he’d lobbed because he could — because he didn’t think anyone would take it to heart. His words replayed in your head as you imagined yourself back in that position, I don’t even care what I have to do to do it.
You lifted your eyes to his, your voice steady though your body clearly wasn’t. You could feel yourself shake even though the water hadn’t cooled yet. “Rafe, you don’t remember the Northland acquisition deal from three years ago when we both joined?”
You’d stayed overtime at the office three nights in a row this week alone, your eyes burning as you worked tirelessly on spreadsheets that bled into strategy trees, colorcoded tabs fanned across the table like ribs. You’d rehearsed contingencies until your voice went hoarse. Confidence exuded through you as you walked into the meeting room to present it to Jason, who directly managed over you, and two other executives from the company. It was going to work, you knew it, you had been at it for over a month.
The door opened, for you to find Rafe walking in, relaxed, his sleeves pushed up like he’d been here forever instead of six months like you’d been. “Hey, this for the meeting?”
You stood proud, smiling to yourself as you slid your desk across the deck. “This is the route that gets us to Northland without overpaying in year one-tiered earn-outs, a staggered approach over their governance, and lockup language that keeps their OFC on our side.”
Rafe hadn’t paid much attention, absentmindedly nodding to your words and skimming the first page. “Got it.”
Finally, the presentation started, but as soon as you’d gotten up to present your strategy, it’d immediately left when Rafe had gotten up faster and sauntered the front. It all shocked you that you’d stayed remained sat when everything inside you was screaming to get up and put him in his place, but instead, you were frozen.
“Rafe, what are you-”
Jason interjected in a tone that made you want to throw up as he called your name in a hushed tone, “Sit, let Rafe do his presentation.”
A wrecking ball hitting through bricks couldn’t cover half of what you felt at the moment.
Rafe talked clean and fast — your earnout ladder, your governance framework, your lockup clause. Your model numbers, your talking points, your risk table, everything that you’d lost sleep over was coming out of his mouth like he’d stuck his hands in the mud and did the dirty work. Jason nodded, pleased as he announced that he knew that taking him on the team. The CEO said it was brilliantly done, while the CFO said exactly what we needed. At the front of the room, Rafe was smug as he glowed with the praise he’d gotten. Not a single mention that you’d done the work left Rafe’s mouth, the praise didn’t drift your way. It moved around you, like current skirting a rock.
You sat still, your lips pressed together so tightly, you were afraid you’d bite through the skin. Your fingers pressed to the paper so they wouldn’t shake. When it ended, you blinked back the hot tears that welled in your eyes, managed a professional smile, and walked out of the door with resentment at Rafe brewing deep within you. For days, you told yourself you’d be fine, but every email that mentioned Northland, along with Rafe’s name written right after, was like a knife to the heart.
It wasn’t until you thought back to the last time you’d felt this defeated that sobered you up, numbed you from the name and months that came after the acquisition was complete, because you knew how to survive being erased once. Because not too long ago, someone who you’d given your heart, would diminish your hopes, saying you’d never make past a certain point because you weren’t built for the pressure. He’d said it like clockwork, as if it was a pacifier to sooth your ex from the fact that he’d been falling behind as you excelled in your field, and you’d still fight back every single time. But at night, when you’d look yourself in the mirror, it hurt to think that someone thought as lowly of you as he did.
You promised yourself then that you’d prove him that you weren’t the type to crack, and even more so, you promised yourself that you’d be proud of yourself, even if no one else said your name out loud.
Rafe looked down, telling you that he remembered the events of that day as clearly as you did, guilt twisting his stomach all over again like it did when he first stepped up in front of the room that day.
He remembered that day all too well, the way Ward had called, condescending him that if he didn’t have anything to show for this job, he was done for. With all the pent-up anger, he’d just looked at you, content and focused as you looked through your slides, he could feel your energy from behind the glass and see that you clearly belonged in that room more than he ever it. But as he looked at the text Ward had sent over that call, Rafe decided it was his moment to take. Back then, he’d told himself it didn’t matter. That you would tolerate him anyway if he tried to charm you just right, that you wouldn’t care, that it was just strategy and numbers and a clean presentation. But beneath all of that, buried under layers of pride and fear, was the part of him that wanted you to notice him — to see something in him worth looking twice at.
A part of him felt bad, especially when he’d been intrigued by you from the day he’d joined. Drawn to you in a way that irritated him as much as it scared him. You were sharp, unshakeable, impossible to ignore. He found himself watching you in meetings longer than he should, memorizing the way your eyebrow twitched when you disagreed with someone, the way you bit your lip as you were deep in thought.
But when he lifted his eyes to you after presenting, he couldn’t miss the glassy coat over your eyes. He realized that you had noticed him, just not in the way you wanted.
Your voice came out leveled, no bite like it usually did which made it worse.
“You used my strategy, Rafe. You took the deck off my desk while I was in the print room, changed the title slide, and pitched it. Jason and the execs all give you their respect, and you didn’t correct them once. You didn’t look at me. You just… took the win.”
Rafe breathed out, the sound low and uneven. He rubbed a hand over his face, a frustrated, ashamed drag. When he looked at you again, the defensiveness was gone; something raw sat in its place. “I did. I did look at you.” His voice cracked, almost too quietly to hear. “I shouldn’t have done that. Especially not you.”
You held his gaze, not daring to look away. “Do you know how much it hurts to see everything you worked on be blatantly taken from your hands and you don’t even get the simplest acknowledgement?” You curled up, your legs pulling themselves up to your chest as you wallowed in where you were three years ago.
“It cost me something to let you walk out of that room with it,” you whispered. “It cost me even more to keep showing up after to keep proving myself.”
The steam from the warm water died down, yet still, something heavy and thick with regret filled the atmosphere.
Rafe looked down at his hands, the bravado he always wore like armor had seams now. “I was desperate,” he said, this voice low and rough. “That’s not… I’m not saying it was okay. It wasn’t. I just, I’d gotten off of a call with my dad, and I wanted a win so bad that I didn’t think twice about who I was hurting. Not saying that my dad is an excuse either. I just, reacted irrationally.”
A beat passed by before Rafe spoke up again, “I’m sorry.”
You exhaled, not sure what to do with the ache his apology unlocked. “I worked for that acquisition deal,” you said, softer now. “Not just the hours, Rafe, years. Building myself back up after someone I trusted told me I wasn’t enough. I told myself I would never let anyone decide my ceiling again. And then you—” Your voice thinned, until you steadied it again. “You made me feel small. And I hated that I let you.”
Rafe closed his eyes for a second, like the only way to stand still was to shut something out. When he opened them, they were steady. The water between you quieted, now cold, but the warmth your bodies kept it bearable. He shifted closer, your arms pressed against each other, but it felt like they found shape with each other quickly. He was careful, like the space itself might shatter. “I can’t change that day,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “But I can change the next one.”
You studied him, the fight and the fear both visible now. The part of you that had learned to endure wanted to fold back into silence and keep moving. The part of you that had learned to be proud wanted the truth to land. “You want to prove your dad wrong,” you said. “I get that. I’ve been proving ghosts wrong my whole life.” You took a breath. “But if you want to prove something, do it on your own accords, on your own terms. Do it through a way that wouldn’t make you regret it after.”
Rafe’s expression shifted. not dramatically, but enough that you saw something crack open in him. Something he’d been holding back for far longer than he should have. He wet his lips, eyes flicking down, then back up at you like he wasn’t sure if he had the right to say the next words aloud. “You know… every time I look at you, I think about what I could’ve been if I wasn’t so damn stupid back then.”
You squinted at him, eyebrows furred together in a way that, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity in his voice.
He gave a small, humorless laugh. “Y’know I always notice you, right? Even when you give me the hardest time.” His fingers brushed the surface of the water, creating soft ripples between you.
“You walk into rooms like you already know what you’re worth.” His breath stuttered just slightly.
Your heart thudded once, hard.
Rafe swallowed, his voice dropping to something rougher. “You were the first person here who actually made me want to be better. Especially when I pretended you pissed me off.”
You felt a warmth rise in your chest, confusing and achingly familiar.
“And after the Northland acquisition,” he continued, softer now, “I kept telling myself you hated me because you saw right through me. Because you knew I wasn’t on your level.” His eyes searched yours, earnest in a way that made your throat tighten.
“But the truth is… I just wanted you to look at me the way you looked at your work. Like I mattered. I know my worth, but it crumbles when it comes to you, and I’d let it crumble at your mercy a thousand times over if it meant I could be in your presence all the time.” The confession hung between you, fragile and unguarded.
Before you could respond, Rafe took a slow breath, his hand hesitating in the water before settling gently at your waist. Not pulling — just making contact, asking for your permission without explicitly asking. “Tell me if this is too much,” he murmured.
You didn’t move away, you let the moment hold you both. And that was all the permission he needed. He guided you toward him, careful and deliberate, the water shifting around your hips as your knees brushed his. You felt the warmth of him beneath you, grounding and steady, as he pulled you onto his lap as though he’d imagined doing it a hundred times but never believed he’d actually be allowed. The movement sent a soft splash against the sides of the tub, ripples spreading around you in lazy circles.
Rafe’s breath hitched, his nose brushing yours, his forehead touching your own like he needed one more second to be sure. “I don’t want to keep messing this up,” he whispered, voice cracking just slightly. “Not with you.”
Your arms curled around his shoulders, drawing him closer. You didn’t have to say a word. He closed the last inch and kissed you—slow and reverent—like he’d been waiting for this since forever. The water stilled around you both, but everything inside you felt like it was finally moving. You returned his kiss, moving your lips around his like you were dancing around the confession. It wasn’t before long until his arms left your waist and traced a path of fire down to your thighs, moving your legs wrapping around his waist as he settled you against the thick, hard ridge of his cock. The friction was a delicious promise, a silent vow of what was to come.
The rest of the night dissolved into a hazy, feverish dream. The tension that had always coiled between you was gone, replaced by a profound, aching need to be close. Your clothes became a forgotten trail on the bathroom floor as he carried you to his bedroom, his gaze never leaving yours. He laid you down against his sheets like you were something precious.
Every kiss was softer, more apologetic than the last, a silent atonement for every harsh word ever spoken. Every thrust was slower, more deliberate, a prolonged act of worship rather than a claim of ownership. It was slow, like you both were taking the time to learn each other’s bodies. Rafe moved with an unhurried rhythm, hitting deep, forcing you to feel every thick inch of him as he stretched and filled you completely.
Every so often, Rafe’s lips would brush against your ear, whispering sweet nothings that made your inner walls clench around him as he hit your cervix.
"M' so sorry, princess."
"My girl," he groaned, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed impossibly deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. "Taking me so well."
And when you awoke in his arms the next morning, the world felt softer somehow — muted by snowfall and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. You didn’t question it. Didn’t question him. Instead, you burrowed closer, tucking your face into the warmth of his shoulder, letting sleep pull you under again like a tide you were finally willing to surrender to.
The rest of the weekend unfolded in that same suspended, dreamlike rhythm.
The banter never disappeared — it simply changed shape. Sharper edges softened into teasing smiles, insults dissolving into quiet laughter that lingered a little too long. You found yourselves tangled beneath the same blanket more often than not, knees brushing, shoulders pressed together while you traded stories about childhood embarrassments, nightmare clients, and the strange paths that had led you both here.
At some point, you realized you were memorizing him — the cadence of his voice when he talked about something he loved, the crease that formed between his brows when he concentrated, the way his hand would absentmindedly find your hip like it belonged there.
And when Rafe surprised you with dinner — something he’d cooked himself, unevenly chopped vegetables and all — it wasn’t the food that made your chest ache.
It was the quiet pride in his eyes when he set the plate down in front of you. Like you mattered more than anything he’d ever tried to win before.
It wasn’t until late in the evening when you’d gotten news that the snow had cleared up and you could safely head out now.
“I’ll just head home since the snow’s cleared,” you stated, packing whatever you’d taken out back into your bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“What? No, you can stay here, it’s just another night.” Rafe looked at you, what looked to me, an attempt at making puppy eyes. “Please?”
“You did not just try to make puppy eyes at me at your grown age.”
“Did it work?”
“…Yes.”
As soon as you’d both gotten to work, it was as if a switch had gone off, and Rafe was back to his usual self, either annoying you or being cocky. He was no longer the soft, vulnerable man you’d seen him as when you left the apartment together, nor the one who’d pressed sleepy kisses into your shoulder before you’d slipped out of bed that morning. By the time your elevator reach the floor to your office, he barely even looked at you.
Meetings came and went, emails flew back and forth within your circles, even conversations happened around you like you weren’t even there. If it’d been anyone else who’d done it, you would’ve brushed it off as normal workplace distance. But this was Rafe, the man who’d tried to convince you to skip work with him and pretend the snow caused your absence. It wasn’t until you skipped your daily coffee run with Sunny when she dropped your drink and stared at you, eyes wide and feral with curiosity.
“Something’s wrong. What happened during the snowstorm?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you continued to type before thanking her for the drink and grabbing, “It was just a regular-shmegular snow storm.” You thought you’d played it off as nonchalant as you possibly could as she eyed you up and down, her honey brown eyes taking in every single detail of your appearance.
“You got laid.”
You choked on your coffee. “What?”
“You’re glowing,” she whispered loudly. “Your hair looks suspiciously blown out better than usual. And you’re wearing the ‘I have secrets’ face. You got laid.”
“I did not—”
“You DID,” she emphasized. “My intuition does not lie, don’t lie to me.”
You glanced across the floor before you could stop yourself. Rafe was at his desk, jaw tight, shoulders squared, typing with aggressive precision like the keyboard had personally offended him. He didn’t look up once, though you could tell he was listening.
Your stomach sank, unsure why he’d pulled a 180 and suddenly acted like you no longer existed to him.
“…Okay maybe I did,” you muttered.
Sunny gasped like she’d just witnessed a solar eclipse. “WITH WHO? Was it the bartender guy?”
You didn’t answer, just simply looking down to avoid confirming or denying anything.
“Oh my God. It was!”
Suddenly, you both were started when Rafe had let out a huge huff and walked by your desk, still not making any eye contact with you.
The next three days were worse. If avoidance were an Olympic sport, Rafe would’ve taken gold. It was nothing but short replies and no eye contact. He’d even started delegating through others on the team instead of speaking to you directly. He was professional to the point of cruelty, which made the burden you’d had on you worsen as you stayed late finishing your latest project. You’d found yourself tuning out more and replaying the weekend over again, just to see if you’d overthought and misinterpreted anything. If the night in the bath was just purely out of frustration and you’d been vulnerable with each other out of obligation.
By the time the Eden-Young acquisition presentation arrived, you were running purely on spite and caffeine. The conference room was packed. The same two execs from the last time you’d presented, multiple financial planning analysts, and your boss at the head of the table.
You thought back to the last time you’d given a strategy rundown for a company this big, and remembered everything that transpired after. You worked hard to where you were today, and even if Rafe was in the room, looking at everywhere but you, you’d be damned if it dampened your performance. And so you did, you’d delivered your presentation almost flawlessly, the projections, integration strategy, and risk mitigation all outlinted to a tee. Weeks of work poured into twenty minutes.
When you finished, there was a brief silence. Then your boss nodded slowly, proud of how you’d done.
“Impressive. You’ve clearly been taking notes from Rafe.”
Though he’d given you the only thing you’d cared about, the words hit like a slap. All the effort you’d put in, just be credited to Rafe.
Before you could even react, Rafe spoke.
“That was all her.”
The room shifted, and suddenly all eyes were on Rafe or you. Your boss looked between you both. “Excuse me?”
Rafe leaned back slightly, completely calm. “The modeling, the integration timeline, the synergy assumptions — she did all of it. The work is hers. Just like the Northland acquisition.”
Your boss blinked, then nodded again, this time toward you.
“Well. Excellent work.”
Heat rushed to your face — pride, validation, and yet, confusion tangled underneath at the base. The man who had just given you public credit hadn’t spoken more than ten words to you all week, he hadn’t looked your way at all, he didn’t even acknowledge your existence. It made the praise feel heavier somehow, like a bouquet handed over a locked door. It was like he’d now sparked the firestarter in you, and before you knew it, you had the same resentment you’d held for him before.
Except this time, you were going to outright confront him.
You kept an eye out for when Rafe was about to leave, though he always left late. It wasn’t until he’d gotten up from his desk to head out when you grabbed his arm and pulled him into an empty conference room closeby.
“What the hell if your problem?” you demanded.
Rafe froze, surprised by the contact.
“You ignore me for three days,” you continued, voice tight. “and then suddenly you’re defending me in meetings like nothing happened? You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to pretend the weekend didn’t happen.”
His jaw locked just as his hand flexed open, itching to grab onto you. You couldn’t understand his constraint against you when you’d laid everything bare in front of him.
“I wasn’t pretending,” he said quietly.
“Really? Because it sure felt like—”
“I was trying to figure out if it was real.” That stopped you. You looked at Rafe, only to find him looking back at you with raw emotion and uncertainty. The tears you’d held back all week finally welled in the corner of your eyes as you could tell that he was being vulnerable again, that he truly was at a crossroads with himself.
“I needed to know,” he continued, voice lower, “that I wasn’t just… caught up in proximity. Or adrenaline. Or finally getting something I’ve wanted for years.” He swallowed. “I needed to know I wasn’t going to ruin you because I couldn’t separate work from… this.”
“Rafe—”
“I love you.”
The words landed heavy between you, but it made your heart begin to race faster than it had when you first saw him.
“I think I have for a while,” he admitted. “I just didn’t realize it wasn’t hate until you stayed. Until you didn’t leave Saturday morning. Until you were in my kitchen telling me I don’t know how to use my own stove.”
A shaky breath left him as he continued. “You’re the best part of my day,” he said. “Even when you’re yelling at me. Especially when you’re yelling at me. So, I took a few days to make sure I wasn’t about to screw this up.”
The silence stretched, only thing to be heard was your sniffles from your failed attempt at keeping your tears at bay. All this time, Rafe had been trying to figure out why he felt the way he did, but it hurt you more that he felt the need to step away just to save you from being hurt again.
As you wiped your tears with the back of your sleeve, you spoke up again. “You could have came to me, Rafe. We could have worked this out.”
“I know, but,” Rafe ran his hand through his buzzed hair, exasperated, “If I lose you, then I lose it all. No one’s ever made me this happy or anxious all at once, but.” He paused and looked at you, and with the way you looked at him earnestly, willing to hear him out even after what he’d done, Rafe felt himself falling in love with you all over again. “I want to love you the right way. However it is you want me to.”
You gently placed your palms on his cheeks, pulling his face closer as you softly placed a kiss on his lips as if it were a seal of confirmation that you, in fact, loved him as well. Even if you didn’t say it out loud.
“You don’t have to love me perfectly,” you whispered against his lips, your voice still fragile from crying. “You just have to love me the way you know how to. And honestly.”
The words seemed to land somewhere deep inside him, somewhere bruised and guarded that he didn’t let many people reach. His hands came up instinctively, wrapping around your wrists where they cradled his face, like he needed to anchor himself there. Relief flooded his face so quickly it almost made you laugh through the remnants of your tears. He leaned forward again, pressing another kiss to your lips, steadier this time, like something had finally clicked into place. You both were so enamoured with each other, you hadn’t realized a figure in the door way, gaping at the scene in front of her.
includes: friends to lovers, summer!lando, clueless reader and lando, pining, fluff, and a little angst
summary: when lando and you spend summer break together you don't expect italy to eventually hold such a special place in your heart... or lando and you go on vacation and everyone keeps thinking you're a couple.
playlist for the fic: spotify | apple music
masterlist
─── ༺❀༻ ───
It was the Monday before the Belgium Grand Prix when Lando asked – what are you doing for summer break?
The sun had started to set over the coast, its golden reflection rippling across the water and onto the balcony of Lando’s Monaco apartment. The same balcony that the two of you currently resided on, choosing to share the wicker couch instead of one of you sitting in one of the empty chairs.
You were sat sideways on the couch with your legs crossed, your view consisting more of Lando than the picturesque sunset over the sea. A cheap bottle of pink moscato, which was your favorite, was sitting on the table where Lando had his feet propped up.
He’d always complain about how sweet it was, but then drink more of it than you. In all reality, he’d actually grown to love it because of you, but he’d never tell you that. He’d only been able to find it at one place in Monaco, so when he knew you were coming to visit he always made sure to have a couple bottles on hand and maybe a bottle for himself when he was missing you.
Your eyes met his as you processed his question. This right now was your summer vacation. He surely knew that, right? “Summer break? I don’t have a summer break like you do, Lando.” It was true, you had barely managed to get this week off from work to be able to go to Belgium, let alone have a month off. “I figured me being here for a couple days then going to Belgium would be my vacation.”
A disapproving sigh escapes past his lips as he speaks. “That is not a vacation.”
“Well it sure as hell beats being stuck at an office in London.”
He downed the remainder of the wine in his glass and fully turned his body towards you. His arm resting across the back of the couch, his fingers nearly touching you. “I think you should come with me on vacation.”
You stifle a groan by taking a drink of your wine. “Lando, you know I don’t do Ibiza. It's not my kind of place, especially this time of year.” It was a beautiful place no doubt, but the big party scene was not your favorite. And the couple times you had gone with Lando and your shared friend group it was so chaotic and you had a hangover that lasted for what seemed like a week. So no– Ibiza and you weren’t the best of friends.
“Who said anything about Ibiza?” He’s got a smirk toying at the corners of his lips, you can tell by the way his upper lip twitches slightly. Not that you stare at his lips that much to be able to notice that kind of thing.
“Lando Norris not going to Ibiza during his summer break? Should I alert the press? Did you hit your head? Are you running a fever?” You lean forward to check his temperature, but he playfully swatted away your hand with a giggle before you could get close enough. “Have you broken the news to Fewt-”
That smirk had fully developed across his face as he cut you off. “Who said anything about Max?”
Now you really thought that he’d bumped his head or was slightly tipsy already. You cocked an eyebrow at him in question. “Where are you going then? Especially without Max?”
Lando leaned back, the wicker creaking beneath him, but his eyes were still trained on you. Golden hour had made them even more blue, resembling the crystal blue water that was just a short walk away. “I’m going wherever you want to go.”
“Lando.”
“Y/N.” He’s the one to cock an eyebrow now.
“I can’t go with you.”
His smirk had turned into a pout and he knew how to work those big blue eyes, especially on you. “Why not? Wherever you want to go– we will go. Not many people get that opportunity Y/N.”
You go to take another drink and realize your glass is empty, but before you can reach for the bottle Lando’s already got it in his hands, reaching over slightly to pour you another glass. “Who all is going then if Max isn’t going?”
He sets the bottle back down on the table, hesitating for a moment before speaking. You two are close, probably the closest friend he has compared to Max, but he worries that you won’t be up for what he’s about to suggest. “It would just be me and you.”
You feel your cheeks get hot at his proposal, but you shake it off, blaming it on the wine.
As much as the idea of Lando and you going on a trip together sounds amazing, you just don’t think you can make it work. You live a normal life and being able to just go on lavish trips at the drop of a hat is not something you get to experience, no matter how much Lando wants you to or you would like to.
“I would love to Lan, but I don't think I could get the time off again.” Your finger nervously circles the rim of the wine glass as you contemplate even bringing your other reason up. Mainly because you know what his answer will be, but against your better judgment you take another swig of the wine as liquid courage before telling him the embarrassing truth. “I also just can’t afford it.”
And without skipping a beat he blurts out. “I’ll pay.” You’re immediately shaking your head no, but before you can verbally deny his offer he’s speaking again “Seriously Y/N. I will pay. It’s not a big deal.”
Except him paying your way for this trip is a big deal. Just how it’s a big deal everytime you come and visit him in Monaco and he insists that you don’t spend a dime while you’re here. It’s bad enough that you stay at his place, let alone have him pay for your dinner every night. Or how he is always offering to fly you out to races on your free weekends. Or insisting that the random gifts he gives you don’t cost that much, like you can’t read the designer labels on the boxes or labels.
It makes you feel bad that you can’t offer the same back to him. The constant worry that he might think you are using him for his money makes your stomach hurt because it’s the last thing you’d ever do. He’s one of the most giving and kindest people you know and to be able to call him your best friend is something you treasure. And you truly hope he knows how much you appreciate everything he does for you, but how could he not when you tell him every chance you get.
“Lando, really I cannot let you pay for me to go on vacation. It’s one thing to let me crash at your apartment and for you to get me passes to races, which I appreciate more than you will ever know. But I draw the line at a whole vacation. I don’t want to seem like a freeloader who is using you, that’s honestly the la-”
“Oh my god will you just let me spoil you!” Lando had enough of your endless rambling. Your need to always try and decline his gifts or offerings until he convinces you that you are worthy of them drives him crazy. To Lando there isn’t a person on Earth who deserves everything and more than you. And the fact that he can afford to give you anything you’d ever want tickles him pink. Hell if it was possible, he’d buy you the whole damn universe, even if you hadn’t asked for it.
“I hate that you think– that I would think you’re using me. Never in a million years would I think that. You mean a lot to me Y/N, truly. You’re one the most important people in my life and you deserve everything and more that I give you. If I thought you were using me, I would not be asking you to go on vacation with me, believe me. I love having you around and with us not seeing each other like we used to, I figured a trip with just the two of us would be nice.”
He pauses for a moment as he scoots a little closer to you on the couch, your legs touching as the glow from the sun envelopes around you two. “Now please don’t try and worm your way out of this trip. I’ve missed you so much and if you don’t end up going I think you’re just gonna have to move in with me.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, but try not to let his heartfelt words get to your head. “How would I even get the time off work again? Tell them ‘Oh my famous F1 driver best friend wants to take me on a trip. Can I please have some more time off?’ I don’t think that would work.”
“Well I think it would work. Especially if you add in that I’m super hot.”
The giggles that come from you lets you know that you’ve drank your fair share of wine for the evening. “Oh I don’t think they would ever tell me no If I added that in.”
“If they do say no then just quit and I’ll get you a job somehow with McLaren or Quadrant or something. I just really want to go on this trip with you.”
You aren’t sure if it's the wine in your system or the fact that you want nothing more right now than to spend a week with Lando in some beautiful country, without a care in the world. But you ignore every responsible and logical part of you and tell him what he wants to hear.
“Alright. So where are we going then?”
His eyes light up and the smile that spreads across his face is comparable to that first win smile. “That’s all up to you baby.”
Both of your hearts skip a beat at the term of endearment that came from him. His because he can’t believe he let it slip and yours because you can’t believe he called you that so easily. But you both ignore it and you focus on the one place you’d had on your mind since he mentioned taking a trip.
“Italy?” You suggest with a hopeful smile on your face.
He fills up his glass with the last of the fruit juice like wine and holds it up towards you, your glasses clinking together in a toast. “Italy it is then.”
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Six days later an email notification pops up on your phone as you’re sitting in McLaren’s hospitality, talking with Lando’s Mom. You glance at who it’s from, not wanting to be rude and get on your phone mid conversation, but when you see your boss’s contact you can’t help but open it. “I’m sorry, it’s from work.” Cisca waved you off, the conversation had only consisted of why they couldn’t stock better snacks in hospitality, and she knew if work was emailing you on a Sunday it had to be important.
You had emailed them Monday night requesting the time off and when they hadn’t responded by Friday you figured they were denying it. Or firing you for requesting more time off while currently being on a vacation. So to be getting this email on a Sunday had you worried, but as your eyes scanned the email you couldn’t hold back the excitement. By some higher power unbestowed to you, they had granted you the time off.
“Never seen someone so excited over an email from work.” Cisca teased.
“Yeah. Honestly thought I was getting fired, but they approved my time off for the Italy trip Lando and I are taking.” You leaned back in the chair, relief finally washing over you.
“Just the two of you?” Cisca had her suspicions about her son’s feelings towards you and your feelings towards him. She’d secretly hoped the two of you would end up together the first time she met you years ago. She honestly thought you were his girlfriend that day and was surprised when he introduced you as his friend. Then she thought maybe he was hiding your relationship because she had never known her son to bring around a female friend like he had you.
You had attended family dinners, a couple holidays, races, and so many other things that just didn’t seem normal to bring a friend to. They had become so accustomed to you being around that when he finally said that he was bringing home his girlfriend for everyone to meet and you didn’t walk through the door— everyone was a little shell shocked. The relationship didn’t last long and she had her theories as to why. To Cisca there was just no way the two of you didn’t have feelings for eachother, she could see it plain as day, and it drove her crazy that the two of you didn’t see it.
“Yeah. At first I thought he was asking me to go to Ibiza again with everyone and you know me, it’s not my thing. But then he said we could go anywhere I wanted and that it was just me and him, so I chose Italy.” You gathered your things, eager to tell Lando the good news before race time. “You raised a good man, Cisca. I couldn’t ask for a better person in my life than him.”
There’s a smile on her face as she watches you talk about Lando, how your smile never falters and how that twinkle in your eye seems to get brighter the more you talk about him. “Thank you honey. You had better go tell him, hadn’t you?”
“I’ll be back!”
Thankfully Lando’s not that hard to find, he’s in the garage looking over some data on the monitors with Will when you spot him. You stand back out of the way, waiting until he’s done, but as soon as he turns to walk away you’re racing towards him. Your arms flinging around him from behind and you can feel him tense under you, but when he hears your laughter his muscles relax.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Lando asks as he turns around to face you, his hands lingering on your hips.
“Hmmm. It may have something to do with work approving my time off.”
That same smile from the other night finds its way onto his face and he’s pulling you into his arms, the two of you swaying back and forth as he nuzzles his head into your neck. “I knew they would approve it, it was meant to be.” His voice tickles your neck as he speaks causing a giggle to escape past your lips.
“Can’t believe we get to spend a week together in Italy.” You state as he releases you from his grip.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You furrow your eyebrows at him, still not sure that he wouldn’t rather be going to Ibiza with his friends.”You’re sure you’re not gonna miss Ibiza?”
His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt as he speaks– his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’d miss you more if I went.” And there isn’t a single ounce of doubt in his words. If he ended up going to Ibiza without you, he’d be at a club wondering what you were doing. Eventually downing one too many shots to try and numb that annoying ache in his chest that forms when you aren’t around. The one that even with you around this week, he had felt occasionally at the idea of you not being able to go to Italy.
The idea of him spending his summer break back in England had crossed his mind a couple times, especially if that meant he got to spend time with you. Luckily though fate was on his side today and he wouldn’t have to deal with that ache for the foreseeable future.
You can feel the slight blush on your cheeks as you process what Lando had said to you and you pray he doesn’t notice it. Just him simply saying he’d miss you if he went to Ibiza should not have you blushing, but here recently it seemed like that was all he could do was make you blush.
A familiar Australian accent hits your ears and around the corner comes Oscar, his hand clamping down on Lando’s shoulder as he comes up behind him. “Y/N. Haven’t seen you in awhile.” His bunny teeth showing as he flashes you a smile.
Your mouth barely opens to speak before Lando’s speaking for you. “I know. She’s been too busy working back in London to come see her favorite person.”
“I’m really such a horrible friend. I’m so sorry Oscar, I really should make more time to see you. In fact, how’s Australia this time of year? I think I might come visit you.” The playful smirk on your face and Oscar’s laugh does nothing to tell Lando that you’re just joking and like a little kid he’s got his arms crossed across his chest with a slight pout on his face.
“Um. I think I’m your favorite person Y/N. Plus you can’t even go to Australia because we are going to Italy.”
Oscar and you can’t help but laugh at Lando’s dramatics, but Oscar wants to tease Lando even further. He knows how his older teammate feels about you, even if Lando won’t give the idea any time of day when Oscar brings it up. Lando had confided in Oscar about his idea to take you on a trip, but Oscar didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. “Italy? Who’s all going? Maybe Lily and I could tag along?”
Lando’s eyes widen at Oscar’s suggestion, mainly because he knows you’d jump at any opportunity to spend time with Lily and this trip was meant to be just for the two of you. “It’s just gonna be me and Y/N…” He trials off, trying to figure out how to nicely tell Oscar that he can’t come.
“There's a month between Singapore and Austin. We should all plan something for then.” You chime in. As much as you would love to spend time with Oscar and Lily, you really want to have this trip just be Lando and you.
Lando’s surprised at you turning down Oscar’s suggestion, but smiles and nods towards Oscar, agreeing with your idea. “Yeah that sounds like a good idea.” Oscar states, a small smirk on his face as he eyes the two of you, fully knowing that you’ll come back from Italy together. And if you don’t Oscar thinks he may have to knock some sense into his teammate.
The driver’s parade was set to start soon, so you tell Oscar you’ll see him around and give Lando a hug, knowing you won’t see him again until after the race. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Be safe and good luck.”
Lando’s grip on you lingers, not wanting to fully let you go just yet, but when they get the final warning that it’s time to go he reluctantly frees you. A small frown on his face as he heads towards the track and you go back to hospitality.
The two McLaren drivers stood side by side on the flatbed of the moving truck, smiles on their faces as they waved at the fans in the grandstands. “Never seen two friends like you and Y/N go on a trip together– alone.” Oscar’s voice is low, there’s an interview going on to his left, but he’s loud enough that Lando can hear him.
Lando keeps looking straight forward as he speaks. “Don’t know what you mean by that.”
“I think you fully know what I mean.”
Max, who was on the other side of Lando, had been eavesdropping the whole time, and couldn’t help but put his two cents in. “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about. I just want to say, do us all a favor and finally tell her how you feel.”
Lando shook his head at the two drivers. You two were just very close best friends, there wasn’t anything he needed to admit to you. It was just a trip that two best friends were going on and there was nothing more to it– right?
─── ༺❀༻ ───
A week and a half later your plane touches down in Naples and even though the flight from London is only around three hours you want nothing more than to just get to the hotel and relax.
The Uber ride from the airport to the hotel thankfully doesn’t take long and you have no issue with sitting down in the lobby of the hotel with all the luggage while Lando checks you two in. You do notice that it’s taking quite a long time for Lando to check in and as you glance up from your phone towards the reception desk you see him talking with the worker and showing her something on his phone. Then with a sigh and a shake of his head he turns on his heel back towards you.
“Everything alright?” You ask.
He slips his phone back into his pocket and grabs his suitcase. “I booked us a two bedroom suite and they told me that all they have available is a one bedroom. Even though I showed them the booking on my phone, someone is already in it. So, I’ll just take the couch and you can have the bed.”
This place was fancy, and Lando had undoubtedly paid a pretty penny for the two nights that you were staying here. You would have thought they would have comped the room or something for their mistake. But by the displeased look on his face it didn’t seem they offered him anything but a sorry for the inconvenience.
Even with the hotel screwing up the room, the one you end up with is amazing and as you enter the room your jaw drops slightly at it. You set your bags down and explore the room further, taking in all the beautiful artwork on the walls and the natural light streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows. You enter a door to your left and it’s the bedroom, which is even better than the main room, mainly because of the huge balcony that overlooks the sea.
There’s a gentle breeze in the air as you lean against the railing, taking in the view and the hustle and bustle from the surrounding area.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” Lando’s voice makes you jump, you were so lost in your own little world you didn’t even hear him come out onto the balcony. You nod your head in agreement as he slots himself beside you, mimicking your actions of leaning on the railing. “And it’s not even the best part of our trip.”
“You know you didn’t have to get such a nice room, we are only in Naples for two days.” As much as you try not to feel guilty about him paying for all of this, you do.
“And what did I say a couple weeks ago?”
A groan emits from you as you remember his words to you in Monaco. “You said to let you spoil me.”
“Exactly. I just want you to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about how much everything costs. We are here to relax and have fun, which means figuring out what we want to do tonight.”
You ponder your endless options and all you really want to do is sit on this balcony and enjoy the view, but your stomach growling tells you maybe dinner would be a good idea first. “We are in Italy– how about getting some pizza and then just come back here and relax?” Lando agrees and while you’re freshening up he looks up good pizza places within walking distance.
You two are just about ready to leave when there's a knock on the door, followed by room service!
A confused look is shared between you two, but when Lando looks through the peephole there stands a worker with a room service cart. He opens the door and is greeted with a smile from the employee.
“From the hotel as an apology about the room.” The employee hands Lando an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne nestled in it. “Have a nice rest of your stay.”
Lando looks back at you with an amused look on his face as the guy quickly leaves, the wheels of the cart squeaking as he hurries down the hall. “Well, we have something to drink on the balcony later.” Lando states as he sets the bucket down on the coffee table.
“Champagne and pizza? No thanks.” You see there’s a card attached to the bottle and as you open the envelope and read the words written, your cheeks turn scarlet.
“What does it say?” Lando questions, moving to stand behind you so he can read it too. His eyes scan the letter and he soon finds himself in the same state as you. He clears his throat as he steps back, suddenly feeling too close to you at the moment.
to the happy couple,
we are so deeply sorry about the mix up with rooms and we hope you can accept our apologies. we’ve sent a bottle of the finest champagne that you can get in naples and have comped any room service you may order during your stay. as always if you need anything please don’t hesitate to call the front desk and once again we sincerely apologize for our mistake. we hope you enjoy your stay here and the city of naples.
The letter isn’t spoken about, actually what you two were addressed as isn’t spoken about, but you both agree that their actions were nice. The walk to the pizza place is quiet, the both of you occasionally pointing out things that you think are interesting or pretty, but both of your minds are preoccupied with being mistaken for a couple. Anyone else would have laughed it off, but clearly not the two of you.
By the time you’re back at the hotel and sat on the balcony with the pizza and champagne your conversation had returned to normal. You teasing Lando about not even drinking the glass he had poured for himself and him complaining about you insisting that you get a pizza that has peppers on it.
“You know what would make this evening even better?” The pizza is long gone and the two of you are sat admiring the painting in the sky left behind from the sun.
“Some pink moscato?” There’s a grin on his face as he says it. If there’s one thing he knows you love, it’s a glass of pink moscato on a balcony with a view.
You try to hide the smile on your face as you glance over at him, but he’s caught you. “You know me too well Norris.”
“Should’ve told that employee that we wanted a ten dollar bottle of wine instead of that champagne.” Lando jokes.
“Thought you didn’t like it? That it was too sweet?”
He shuffles slightly in his seat, fully knowing that you’d caught on to his facade. “I may have grown to love it.” He admits quietly.
You’d known for a while, but hearing him say it was much more satisfying. “Yeah. Kinda figured it out last year when you started drinking more of it than me.”
Nighttime draws near and once you start yawning, so does Lando, and after the fourth round of yawning Lando states that it’s time for bed. The subject the two of you hadn’t discussed any further than what was said in the lobby earlier. The guilt started to eat at you as you brushed your teeth, he’d invited you and is paying for everything and he doesn’t even get to sleep in a bed? What kind of friend were you?
Lando was making the couch up as you walked out of the bathroom and for this being a luxury hotel that couch looked stiff and seemed to be more for show than actual comfort. He already had a bad back and it looked like sleeping on that couch was going to have him trying to find a chiropractor tomorrow instead of sightseeing. “Lan. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
He doesn’t even look back at you, still occupied with trying to make the couch somewhat comfortable. “No. I’ll be fine. You take the bed.”
“Lando.”
“Y/N.”
“Lando, look at me.” You knew he wasn’t going to budge with the whole couch thing, so you thought of the next best thing. The two of you sharing the bed. It was plenty big and truly it shouldn’t be that big of a deal if you two shared it. You were grown adults and bestfriends, no one should have to sleep on the couch.
His focus tears away from the couch and over to you, who’s already in bed and under the covers. “Look at how big this bed is.” Your body extends over to the other side trying to show him just how big the bed is. “Just sleep in the bed with me, there is plenty of room.”
Your offer takes him by surprise and he stills for a moment, he’d love nothing more than to climb into that bed right now, but a part of his brain is telling him not to. And he’s about ready to tell you no once again until he makes eye contact with you. Those damn eyes of yours could be used in interrogation rooms across the world, one look into them and he’s crumbling like a poorly built sandcastle. The gentle pat on the empty side of the bed is what flattens the sandcastle and he’s mumbling out an okay before sliding under the sheets next to you.
The two of you don’t know what to do for a moment, both still and flat on your backs under the sheets, like if you moved an inch the gremlin under the bed was going to get you. But eventually Lando turns on his side, mumbling out a goodnight as he pulls the comforter closer to him. You take his actions as a sign for you to roll over too and you figured that falling asleep wouldn’t be an issue after all the yawning earlier, but you were wrong. You tried counting sheep, tried laying on your back, tried anything you could think of to fall asleep and nothing worked. It wasn’t like there was a major time difference between here and London, it was literally only an hour, so unfortunately jet lag could not be to blame.
Lando hadn’t moved the whole time and you figured he fell asleep as soon as he turned over, but you were bored and going a little crazy because even though you were tired, you couldn’t fall asleep. “Lando.” You whispered, but got no response. “Lando. Are you awake?” You whisper a little louder this time, but still no response. So with a defeated sigh you roll back over and shut your eyes, praying that this time you can go to sleep. But within a matter of seconds you feel the bed shift and Lando’s voice echoing through the room.
“I’m awake.”
You roll back over— the two of you now facing each other. “Why didn’t you answer me a minute ago?”
“I was trying to go to sleep myself.”
“Oh sorry. I’ll go out to the other room and watch some TV or something.” You barely move an inch before Lando’s got his fingers wrapped around your forearm, gently pulling you back towards him.
“No, don't leave.”
You can feel your heartbeat quickening as you realize just how close the two of you are. The glow from the moon cascades through the balcony doors allowing you to make out the moles on his face and those pretty long eyelashes of his that make his already breathtaking eyes seem even more beautiful. Sometimes you think he has stars in his eyes from the way that they sparkle. And as the two of you lay here right now, you realize the only reason that the moonlight is flooding into the room is because she’s looking for her lost stars that have found a home in Lando’s eyes.
“You got any ideas on how to fall asleep? I’ve tried just about everything in the book.” For some reason you're whispering and you wonder if it’s from how close you are to Lando’s face or how suddenly nervous you are to be this close to Lando.
He’s silent for a moment, the logical and sane part of him screaming at him to not even suggest what he’s been thinking about ever since climbing under these sheets. The mere idea of it being the thing that had prevented him from being fast asleep by now. But he’s got you at literal fingertips length and he thinks there may not be another opportunity like this again. So– he acts with his heart and not his brain.
“Come here.” He’s moved onto his back with his arm outstretched towards you.
“Huh?” You know exactly what he’s insinuating, but you can’t actually believe that he is.
“You wanted an idea on how to fall asleep and this is my idea. I’ll get you to fall asleep in no time.
“You think us cuddling is gonna get me to fall asleep?” You definitely hadn’t wondered what it would be like to be wrapped up in Lando’s arms before. How it would feel to have his fingertips trance mindless patterns across your skin or have your head on his chest. He was your best friend, which meant those thoughts had never crossed your mind– right?
He shrugs, trying to hide the nervousness in his demeanor, the mere thought of you denying him right now was enough to have him on the next flight back to Monaco in the morning. He should have never put himself in this situation, but god as soon as he climbed into this bed all he wanted to do was have you wrapped up in his arms.
It had consumed his brain, and then consumed it even more because why was he having this desire to have such a tender moment with his best friend? Though his brain stops spiraling when he feels the bed shift and you’re suddenly tucking yourself into his side, arm slung over his torso, and your head laying on his chest. The same chest that his heart is about ready to beat out of and he prays you can’t hear how hard it’s working.
But as you both get settled and Lando’s heartbeat finally mellows out he realizes just how right this feels, like the two of you were matching puzzle pieces. Any other girl he had cuddled with before now seemed to feel wrong because as far as he was concerned, nothing felt better than this. It felt natural and easy and he found himself drawing absent minded patterns on your side where your shirt had bunched up.
He’d spend the rest of his life here in this moment with you if he could. And when he hears your slight snores something short circuits in his brain and he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head mumbling out goodnight before he’s out like a light too. The moonlight blanketing over the two of you, who right now look more like lovers than best friends.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
The next morning you’re already up and ready for the day by the time Lando wakes up and he tries to hide the disappointment of not waking up next to you, already missing the feeling of having you so close. A feeling though nice, he knew it was one that he probably shouldn’t be feeling. He asks you if you slept well while he’s getting ready and you tell him yes, not going into very much detail, for your own sake and his.
The day is full of sightseeing and lots of walking, which is something that Lando likes to complain about. You visit Pompeii and a handful of other places for you and Lando to nerd out about and truly be tourists. You eat amazing food that Lando says his trainer will hate him for, but he justifies it with the excuse of being on vacation. Hundreds of pictures were taken, your phones already begging for more storage and it was only the first day of the trip. Lando even went as far as bringing an actual camera, stating that lando.jpg would be revived soon.
But in between the sightseeing, eating, and everything else– both of your brains immediately go back to the sleeping arrangements from last night. You both can’t stop thinking about it, but no one brings it up, almost like it’s something you should be ashamed of. No one wants to admit how right it felt to be in eachothers arms last night or how both of you probably had the best sleep of your lives.
You didn’t want to admit that when you woke up this morning to Lando spooning you, your stomach was doing flips over the realization that you had moved in the middle of the night and he had found his way back to you. So many thoughts and emotions running through your brains, yet you both think it’s better to just act like it's not a big deal.
Night falls once again and Lando crawls into bed next to you. You’re both absolutely spent after the eventful day you’ve had and Lando worries that you won’t need him to fall asleep, but his worries soon dissipate because you’re tucking yourself into his side as soon as he’s gotten himself comfortable. You’re like a moth to a flame– the consequences of these actions never even enter your mind as slowly feel yourself drifting off to sleep.
And when morning comes you don’t run away when you feel Lando’s arms around you, even with the butterflies making an appearance again. You enjoy your moment alone, the sun shining in through the windows, the sound of the city already alive, and the way Lando looks as he sleeps. It's truly a beautiful morning.
He wakes up not too long after you and there’s a funny feeling in his chest when he realizes that he’s gotten to wake up with you still in his arms. That you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. It all just feels so natural and right, that once again no words are spoken about this very non-platonic thing that is happening between you two.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
“We’ve got a little bit a drive ahead of us today.” Lando states as he comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Water droplets are scattered across his tan skin, his damp curls falling slightly onto his forehead. You’re trying not to stare, but good lord how could anyone not.
“It’s only like an hour.” You're still sitting in bed, propped up against the headboard as you now watch him rummage through his suitcase.
He holds up a shirt and shorts, silently asking for your opinion. You give him a nod of approval and he heads back to the bathroom to get dressed, but he leaves the door slightly cracked so he can still talk to you. “Yeah it was an hour. I’ve canceled the driver and made some new plans for today.”
“New plans?” You raise your voice slightly so he can hear you.
“It’s a surprise.” He peeks his head around the slightly open door— a mischievous smile painted across his face, before disappearing behind it once more. “So you had better start getting ready.” He commands as the door fully opens, revealing a fully dressed Lando.
A few short moments later a domestic scene plays out in the bathroom mirror. The double sinks both occupied, various hair products, makeup, and other random items are scattered across the counter. You’re watching Lando through the mirror as he tries to wrangle the mop of curls on his head, but everytime you look away he’s watching you brush your teeth or do your skincare. And the occasional times your eyes do meet in the mirror you’re both like little kids, eyes immediately darting away with smiles on your faces and little giggles echoing through the bathroom.
“You gonna tell me what the surprise is?” Patience had never been your strong suit and thus knowing about surprises was like a form of torture to you.
“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?” He’s still screwing with his hair, but he’s looking at you through the mirror.
“Oh come on, just tell me. Pretty pretty please?” You’ve come up behind him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you flash your best puppy dog eyes at him through the mirror. And for a split second Lando almost cracks– those puppy dog eyes working on him better than you would have ever thought.
“The faster we pack everything up, the faster you get the surprise.” He’s shocked his words come out smoothly, his brain still foggy from your pretty eyes and close contact.
Ten minutes later you’re walking out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, where Lando tells you to wait while he goes outside for a moment. You assume the surprise is outside and so you try to peek and see what’s out there, but he’s coming back in before you can get a good look.
“Alright let’s go.”
You don’t see anything that you would consider surprise worthy as you walk out the doors, but then Lando leads you towards the cars parked outside the hotel and stops in front of a vintage yellow Ferrari. Your eyes dart back and forth between Lando and the car, unsure if he was just stopping to admire it or if you were going to be riding in it. He answers your unasked question by opening the passenger side door, motioning for you to get in.
“Is this the surprise? Where did you even get this car from?” Your eyes widening over the car itself and the fact that he’d gone through the trouble of even finding the car.
“It’s part of the surprise-” He’s got a smirk on his face as he speaks “and I have my connections.” He motions once again for you to get into the car and this time you don’t oblige. The leather seat soft under your legs as you sit down, the car was surely close to 60 years old, yet still looked brand new.
Lando puts the luggage in the trunk while you're examining all of the car’s little quirks and details while you wait.
“Ok, you ready?” Lando asks as he gets in the driver's seat.
“Gonna tell me the other part of the surprise?”
He sighs, he wanted you to figure it out on your own, but you were so persistent sometimes. “You know how you’ve always talked about wanting to drive along the coast of Italy?” You nod, a smile already forming on your face as you realize what he’s planned for you. “Well, instead of just taking the straight shot over, we’re gonna take the long way all along the Amalfi coast. And I figured it was only fitting that we do it in a Ferrari, considering we are in Italy after all.”
You can’t wipe the smile off your face as you stare at Lando from the passenger seat. Sometimes you wondered if he was even listening to you when you spoke, but then he pulls stuff like this and you know that he’s always listening– remembering things that you care about or like. “God, I don’t deserve you.”
Thankfully the car is still parked because you’re pulling Lando into a bone crushing hug, your cheek smushed up against the side of his head, a giggle emitting from him as he tries to hug you back.
“When you told me your work approved the time off, I knew for sure that this was one thing that I wanted to make happen. That same night I was online trying to find a car to rent for the day, but then I saw this one for sale…” His words trail off and your jaw drops at the realization, but in all reality you know it’s a very Lando thing to do.
“And now we’re sitting in your newest baby?”
He’s got a sheepish look on his face as he speaks. “As soon as I saw it I knew it was the perfect car for this. Plus it’s the ultimate vacation souvenir!”
“You’re crazy.” He actually couldn’t be more perfect.
“Yeah, but you love me.” He teases as he starts the engine.
“Unfortunately.”
─── ༺❀༻ ───
The long winding road along the coast provided scenery that was beyond your wildest dreams. It was serene and picturesque– like something straight out of a movie. The bright blue water on one side of the road and the white stone mountains on the other. The various tunnels that somehow had even more breathtaking views on the other side of them. The handful of towns that you had to drive through, each of them more charming than the last, you only wished you had enough time to stay a week in all of them.
As simple as this was, you would have been more than content with this trip if you went home tomorrow, not that you wanted to, it was just that sometimes the simple things in life meant more than anything lavish to you. You weren’t hard to please, all you needed was Lando singing along to some song on the radio, beautiful scenery, and the wind blowing in your hair for you to be the happiest girl in the world right now.
The whole trip your attention was divided between the coastal beauty and the beauty in the driver's seat. You couldn’t help but glance over ever so often at Lando, especially when you’d hear him start to sing along to a song. He just looked so ethereal sitting next to you, one hand on the steering wheel– the other resting between you two.
There was a moment where you felt the sudden urge to reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, a moment of insanity you’d thought. It surely had nothing to do with how sunkissed he looked from only being in the sun one day, or how the wind had made his curls the perfect amount of messy, or how you’d catch him looking over at you with a smile on his face.
If only you knew that Lando had been fighting the urge to reach out and grab your hand too. He’d never seen you so ecstatic over something as simple as going for a drive, but he’d drive this car till he ran out of road or gas, whichever came first, just to see that smile of yours. The way your eyes sparkled in the sunlight and how you giggled at his singing was just an added bonus, but all of them made his chest feel funny. He’d been around the world more times than he could count, seen so many breathtaking places, but right now none of those places compared to the beauty that was sitting next to him in this car.
You’re in your own little world so much that you don’t even realize you’ve made it to your destination until Lando’s putting the car in park in front of a very luxurious looking villa. “We’ve arrived.” Lando states in a sing-song voice.
“Is this when you tell me Max and everyone else are actually coming too?” You question, flabbergasted over the size of the house. And you can tell what he’s thinking just by his facial expression. “Lando this place is huge just for the two of us.”
He rolls his eyes before getting out of the car to get luggage. “It’s actually a lot smaller than you think.”
When you step foot into the two story villa it immediately has that Mediterranean coast charm with intricate tile floors, artwork that adorns the walls, and windows with the most gorgeous views– needles to say you’re in love.
Then you take in just how big the place is with it’s one too many bedrooms and bathrooms and various other rooms that you probably won’t even use. Lando’s words echo in your head as you explore the house some more, and there’s nothing small about this place at all. “You’re such a liar Lan.” Your words are playful as you walk through one of the many french doors in the house that leads out to the back.
“Lie? I would nev-”
“Oh my god!” He’s cut off by you realizing that the backyard of this villa is nothing shy of paradise. A massive pergola covered part of the back of the house with vibrant bougainvillea lining the top and hanging down the sides. Various other flowers and plants are scattered strategically around the area. Under the pergola there's an outdoor kitchen and a large glass dining table, clearly meant to host a group of people, not two. Further out there’s a pool with sunbeds lined down one side of it– a poolside bar on the other.
All of these things are great, but the real show stopper is the view that this place has. From the front of the house you can’t really tell just how close you are to the water, but from out back it’s a completely different view. There’s a separate sitting area slightly further out from the pool. It’s got a little pergola of its own with couches and chairs and one of those fancy rock fire pits and that is where you get the best view.
It’s like something out of a nature documentary– it’s so perfect that it almost seems fake. The sea is so close that you can hear the waves crashing against the rocks and it’s just endless bright blue water for days. You thought the view in Naples was pretty, but this was breathtaking.
“Knew you’d love this place.” Lando states as he comes up beside you, acting like he hadn’t been lingering behind you the whole time, admiring the view (you) from afar.
It was true though, Lando knew as soon as he saw this place online that it was the one. It didn’t matter that he paid an astronomical amount for it or that the house was way too big for just the two of you. All it took was for him to see the view to know you’d be the happiest girl in the world here.
He could picture you two sitting out here in the evening, watching the sun set over the coast, undoubtedly with a bottle of pink moscato. You’d end up drinking one too many glasses and your cheeks would get red and you’d get the giggles.
As Lando stood here– eyes never leaving the beautiful scene in front of him. He can’t help but feel that funny feeling in his chest over how radiant and happy you look. And he thinks that if this house was for sale he’d buy it in a heartbeat, if that meant he got to see you like this all the time.
A smile finds its way onto your face as you glance over at the guy you call your best friend. “You weren’t lying when you said you were gonna spoil me, huh?” You gently nudge him with your elbow, your smile growing even bigger at his response.
“Only the best for my favorite person.” His smile is equally as big as you lean your head on his shoulder and in that moment he thinks that maybe the reserve driver could just finish out the season and he could just stay here with you.
That night as you both head to your rooms there’s an obvious tension in the air. You’re both slowly making your ascent up the stairs and lingering in the hall, trying to milk every last second until you inevitably have to go into your separate rooms.
After so long though, you’re the first to cave as your hand reaches for the doorknob. Your door creaks open and you’re mumbling out goodnight lan, i’ll see you in the morning before entering the room. Although you don’t close the door behind you and Lando takes that as an invitation to linger in your doorway. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know he’s there, you can feel his presence, and subconsciously you’ve left that door open for him.
“Goodnight Y/N.” You’ve got your back turned to him as you're digging through your suitcase for pajamas, but you can hear the slight grin he has on his face as he speaks.
The sight of Lando as you turn around has butterflies erupting in your stomach and it makes you feel weird to be feeling those things about your best friend. He’s leaned up against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and that grin that you’d sensed him having was still on his face as he looked at you. Your eyes scanned over him, focusing on little details like his hair still being wind tousled and how the tops of his cheeks were slightly burnt from the car ride today.
And for someone who claimed to not need a ton of sleep– he looked so sleepy as the two of you locked eyes. Those big blue eyes slowly blinking and drooping ever so slightly as his head now too rested against the door frame. He still donned the hoodie that you teased him about putting on earlier after his claims of it being chilly once the sun set, only adding to the sleepy look he had going on right now.
Someone had never looked so cozy and you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms, but that wasn’t going to happen tonight. You will tell him goodnight again and he’ll close the door behind him before shuffling over to his room. Your mind will be preoccupied with him as you get ready for bed, the image of him in your doorway forever burned into your mind as you brush your teeth. As you crawl into bed you won’t think about how cold the sheets feel or how you want to be cuddled up to your best friend. You won’t think about how it’s been two hours that you’ve laid here and sleep has yet to greet you. And you certainly won’t think about how you’d be fast asleep right now if Lando was beside you.
But unfortunately you do think about all those things and you’ve exhausted every resource to try and distract you from it. It was different at the hotel when there was only one bed, but now with multiple bedrooms to choose from there was no reason for the two of you to sleep in the same bed. Lines were already blurring between you two without either of you knowing it and if you chose to go seek solace with Lando then those lines would blur even more.
But you didn’t know that your actions would eventually have consequences and seconds later you’re throwing the covers off of you with only one destination in mind– Lando’s room. The journey though, is short lived because as soon as you open your door you’re met with a wide eyed Lando, his fist frozen in the air like he was getting ready to knock on your door.
The frozen fist moves to rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks to you. “Sorry, was coming to see if you were still awake.”
“I was coming to see if you were up too.” He’s still got that hoodie on from earlier, but you noticed he’d changed out his shorts for boxers. His hair was even more messy and you’d wondered if he had even fallen asleep yet. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
Lando shrugs. “Not really– kept tossing and turning.” He acts like the reason he can’t go to sleep isn’t right in front of him as he rests his head on the familiar door frame.
“Yeah I can tell by your hair.” You tease. He just gives you a half assed smile and when he doesn’t tease you back that’s when you realize just how tired he is. “You want to watch some TV or something? ”
He shakes his head no. The only thing he wants to do is go to sleep, but how can he when you’re not next to him? It was embarrassing to admit that only after two nights of sharing the same bed that he couldn’t sleep on his own, but here he was. His big bed felt too empty and he realized that even if he slept in a twin sized bed it would still feel empty without you next to him.
Not to mention he’d found comfort in you being his personal heater at night. It was no secret that Lando ran cold, often seen sporting a jacket during race weekends while his teammate was in shorts. So with his personal heater gone, he’d resorted to wearing a hoodie to bed, which didn’t come close to holding a candle to you.
When he finally worked up the courage to get up and go to your room he was pleasantly surprised to find you up too and facing the same problem as him. A little sliver of him hoping that it was the exact same problem and that you couldn’t sleep without him.
For a split second you caught his eyes looking past you and towards your bed. He couldn’t have made it any more obvious, but if was actually hinting at what you thought he was hinting at, then you weren’t going to pass up on the opportunity. It wasn’t a coincidence that he had come to your door and that you both had trouble sleeping in separate beds. So, you act on impulse and tell him come on just sleep in here tonight and like a little kid who’s gotten scared of the thunder at night he’s crawling into your bed in an instant.
It’s like you two are magnets– immediately finding your way to each other under the sheets and it doesn’t take long for the both of you to finally fall asleep. And some time in the middle of the night Lando had shed his hoodie, no longer needing it with you pressed against him. When you two wake in the morning with the sun streaming through the windows and sleepy smiles plastered on your faces, there’s an unspoken agreement that even with the plethora of beds in this house, you two would be sleeping in the same one every night.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Lando and you were best friends, nothing more. Nevermind the sharing a bed every night or the longing glances or the sometimes suggestive thoughts you had about him. So maybe your friendship wasn’t practical or normal, but there was nothing romantic going on between you two. It was something you had drilled into your head for some time now. You’d try to ignore the way your heart would speed up when you’d catch him looking at you or the way he always has to have physical contact with you. And any other crazy thoughts that you’d speculated about had always been pushed aside rather quickly. He was your best friend after all and once again nothing more.
Though over the course of the week you’d found yourself having a hard time in pushing aside those non platonic thoughts about Lando. There were instances you two had found yourselves in that you just couldn’t ignore.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
“What’s the plan for today?” You ask as the two of you are sitting outside the cutest little restaurant, enjoying brunch.
Lando finishes the last little bit of his eggs before answering you. “Well nothing that involves you getting behind a motor vehicle with the way you’ve been downing those bellinis.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. Yes, you’d had your fair share of bellinis, but they were so damn good and there really wasn’t that much alcohol in them for it to be an issue. “How about we just see where the day takes us?”
“Well I already had the idea of renting jet skis in my head, but I guess we’ll do what you suggested.” You joke.
Now Lando’s the one to roll his eyes at you as he flags down the waiter for the check. He doesn’t even look at it when it’s brought over, he just hands his card over like it’s nothing. It’s something that you still aren’t used to him doing even after knowing him for so long and you’re sure he’s gotten ripped off more times than he could imagine.
He quickly signs for it once the waiter comes back and with his card back in his wallet you’re free to go. Except when you stand up all those bellinis hit you and you’re a little unsteady on your feet, something that Lando clocks immediately. You aren’t drunk, just buzzed, but Lando isn’t going to let you live this down. “You wanted to rent jet skis huh?” He teases as he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you.
“Think we still could to be honest.” You’re confident in your ability to walk on your own, but Lando insists on keeping his hold on you.
“Well I don’t want to waste a day at the hospital, so let’s just look around at the shops.”
You’d passed them on your way to brunch and Lando had promised you’d come back to them. They were cute little stores, each one specializing in certain things. You took your time in each one, feeling the silky material of some of the dresses, admiring the leather detailing on the handbags, and gawking at the dazzling jewelry in the displays. Everything was quite luxurious and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on a certain bag and bracelet, but the price tags were all you had to see to know they weren’t coming home with you.
Lando had been watching you the whole time, fully prepared to be your bag boy and was ready to pull out his wallet whenever he’d see you pick something up. But much to his disappointment, all you did was look and after going through all the stores you left empty handed. “You didn’t see anything you wanted?” Lando asks as you continue down the street.
You simply shrug your shoulders at him. “Nothing that I couldn’t live without.” He doesn’t press the matter anymore, fully knowing that he’d be coming back sometime this week to get you that bag and bracelet that you kept circling back to.
The streets are charming and bright. It’s a place that you can’t help but feel alive in, especially as the summer sun beats down on you, but the light breeze coming in off the sea makes it bearable. Your buzz was long gone, but Lando still insisted that you link your arm with his as you stroll down the streets– just in case. You don’t oblige to his request, enjoying the feeling of holding onto his solid bicep as the sound of him slightly humming the song that was playing at brunch fills your ears.
A sense of peacefulness washes over you and it’s at this moment that you don’t feel like you’re on the arm of the famous Formula 1 driver Lando Norris. He doesn’t have a million cameras on him or people flocking to him for an autograph. It’s just you and your best friend Lando– the boy who was gagging when you teased the idea of ordering fish at dinner last night or who you laid in bed with this morning, watching dumb Tiktoks until you were both in tears laughing. It was nice for once, to just have Lando.
You’re just about ready to circle back to the villa when you hear a woman shouting in Italian from down the street. You’re not anywhere near fluent, but you recognize some basic words and what you’ve heard has you pulling Lando towards the voice.
Fior! Bei Fiori!
At the end of the street there stood the lady, who had a cart of the most vibrant fresh flowers. When she spotted the two of you approaching, a smile painted itself across her face. “I think your pretty girl deserves some flowers, don’t you?”
The corners of your mouth turn upwards and a smile is painted across your face. You can feel your cheeks getting warm at her statement, at the implication that you were Lando’s, but it’s his response that makes them comparable to the roses found on the cart.
Lando feels his chest get tight over the lady assuming the two of you were together. It’s nothing new, for people to assume that he’s with a girl just because he’s seen with one. Though for some reason when someone says it about you, it gets a reaction out of him. He’s grinning as he looks at you and then back to the sweet old lady. “You’re right, my pretty girl does deserve some flowers.”
The butterflies that erupted in your stomach at his words were embarrassing and not the appropriate reaction to be having over your best friend, but his comment wasn’t very platonic either. You’re blushing and grinning, probably very easily comparable to a school girl at the moment. He’s got a smug look on his face as he hands you of course the biggest bouquet the lady had. It’s truly a beautiful bouquet and it smells divine, it had anything you could have gotten at the shops beaten by a mile.
As you head back towards the villa you can’t wipe the smile off your face and you can’t stop thinking about my pretty girl. The words shamelessly repeating over and over again in your head. “So you think I’m pretty huh?” You tease.
Now Lando’s the one to blush and he hopes you just think it’s just from the heat and sun as you look at him. “Of course I do. I’d have to be blind to not think so.” He’s sincere with his words, he truly thinks you’re one of the most breathtaking women he’s ever met– intellectually and physically.
You lean your head on his arm, the same one you’ve still wrapped yourself around. “You sure know how to swoon 'em.”
“You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
And for the first time, for both of you, it feels weird and almost stings to hear the word best friend said out loud. Because deep down you know you’re way more than that.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Although you weren’t that much of a party girl you didn’t mind going out every once in a while. So when Lando suggested going out to one of the bars tonight it didn’t seem like a bad idea. You’d done your fair share of relaxing and to you that meant a night out deserved to be had.
With a final spritz of your perfume you’re ready to go and as you looked in the mirror one last time you couldn’t help but think damn, I look good. You found Lando waiting for you in the foyer, his head lifting up from his phone at the sound of your heels clicking down the stairs. “Might want to close your mouth before you attract flies Lan.” He hadn’t even realized he was in that much of a trance until you said something, he could feel his cheeks getting warm at getting caught.
You hook your arm with his as he leads you out the front door. “Sorry, you just look unreal tonight.”
“Well you don’t look too bad yourself.” He’d chosen his tried and true white button up, leaving the first few buttons undone, which revealed even more of his gorgeous tanned skin. How someone could make something as simple as a white button up shirt look so good was beyond you, but it was clearly something he was skilled at.
The bar you end up at is relatively small and you realize it must be the most popular one with how packed it is. It’s on the coast and there’s a gorgeous outdoor area that you are immediately drawn to, mainly because there’s slightly less people out here. It’s still a good time though and the people are somehow even more rowdy out here and you wonder if it’s the fresh air.
You’ve danced, drank, laughed, talked, everything you could think of on a night out. It's been nice, especially doing it all with Lando, who somehow through the course of the night has undone more buttons on his shirt and you think he might as well just undo them all. It’s clearly getting late from how the crowd is slowly starting to thin out, but you two are still having a ball, and you figure you’ll stay till they kick you out.
Lando’s gone inside to get you both another drink, which he easily could have gotten from the bartender out here, but he claimed that the guy didn’t know what he was doing. While you wait you venture off to a far corner of the patio that’s somewhat empty. There’s a couple people sitting in chairs sharing a cigarette, but other than that you’re alone. Even in the dark the view is amazing and as you lean on the railing a nice breeze comes in off the water. It’s relaxing and nice, especially when you’re that sticky kind of sweaty and a little more drunk than you realize.
“Absolutely beautiful.” You jump at the unfamiliar, yet familiar voice. It had been a minute since you’d heard another British accent besides Lando’s. When you turn around to put a face to the voice you aren’t expecting to see such a gorgeous man standing there. He’s really the whole package– stunning blue eyes, pretty smile, fluffy light brown hair, nice facial hair.
“Uh- yeah it is.” You assumed he was talking about the view.
“Can I join you?”
He’s cute and you wouldn’t mind some company, so you tell him yes.
“Where’d your boyfriend run off to?” He asks as he nurses his Corona.
“He’s not my boyfriend, but I’m not wrong in assuming you know who he is, right?” This guy is in his twenties and British, if he didn’t know who Lando was then he had to be living under a rock.
He takes a swig of his beer before responding. “I know who he is.”
You scoff, there was a big possibility that he was using you to get to meet Lando, it was something you’d dealt with many times before. Guys showing interest in you only in hopes of becoming Lando’s friend or even worse girls who would befriend you only to try and get with Lando. You weren’t some step on the ladder that led to Lando, you were your own person with feelings and a life, who deserved to have people like you for you, not who you knew.
Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the fact that you’re done being led on by people, but either way you confront the guy about it. “Are you using me to get to him?”
You hear him laugh a little and it lights a fire in you, but his words extinguish it before it gets out of control. “I was brave enough to come over here and willingly flirt with you before I even knew if he was your boyfriend or not. If I was trying to use you to get to him, I don’t think that would be a good plan. Which now that I know you’re not his girlfriend, kinda makes me think he’s an idiot. How could he have a girl like you in his life and not be madly in love with you?”
Your brain is fuzzy as you’re trying to process what he’s said. “Sorry wait- you were flirting with me?”
He’s got a cheeky grin on his face and he lets out a chuckle at your cluelessness. “When I said ‘absolutely beautiful’ I wasn’t talking about the view.”
“Oh.” You’d thought it was kind of weird for him to just randomly say that about the view, but for it to be aimed towards you was the last thing you had thought of. “Well, flirt all you want then.”
Not only did this place have one bartender that was incompetent, it seemed like all of them were. Lando had waited for what seemed like ages for a beer and a vodka cranberry. It wasn’t even that busy at the bar for it to be taking so long and at one point he contemplated just going behind the bar and doing it himself. By the time he finally got them he was surprised you hadn’t come looking for him, but when he made his way out onto the patio he saw exactly why you hadn’t.
Over in the corner Lando sees you doubled over laughing with some guy as he watches from afar. His grip on the glasses gets tighter as he sees you place your hand on the guy's arm. The tightness in his chest increases the longer he stands here and watches. It bothers him more than he cares to admit– to see you with some random guy. To hear that laugh of yours and him not being the source of it is driving him crazy. But what really sends him over the edge is when the guy tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear and without a second thought he’s storming over there.
Lando tries to play it cool as he approaches and he’s glad he’s got these drinks to use as an excuse. Your mid conversation when Lando interrupts, but he doesn’t care one bit. “Here’s your drink.” He says as he pushes the slightly watered down glass towards you.
“Oh thanks Lan.” You flash him a smile, but his face is emotionless and the fun light hearted atmosphere has suddenly turned awkward. For some reason you feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “Um, Lando this is-” You remember at that moment that you hadn’t even asked the guy his name, which to you makes this even more awkward.
“Harry.”
“Right. Lando, this is Harry.” You motion between the two men. “Harry, this is Lando.”
Harry extends a hand out to Lando and they very awkwardly shake hands. “Nice to meet you mate.”
Lando only nods his head at him before turning his focus back to you. “I think we should get going, they are gonna close soon.”
You think he’s joking, considering he’d waited all that time to get these drinks, and now he suddenly wants to leave. “I just got my drink, can we at least stay until I finish it?” It also feels rude to just abruptly leave in the middle of the conversation that you were enjoying with Harry. But Lando doesn’t know how to hide his emotions very well and by the look on his face you know he’s being serious.
“Well you can stay, but I’m leaving.” He knows he shouldn’t leave you alone with some guy you just met, but god he doesn’t think he can stand here and watch you flirt with him anymore than he already has. So, without hearing your response he starts making his way towards the exit.
A regretful look washes across your face as you look at Harry. “That was so rude of him, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s up with him, he never acts like that.” You take a big swig of your drink, fully knowing dealing with Lando is gonna be a pain. “It was really nice talking to you, but I better go hunt him down.”
He shrugs, clearly not as upset over this whole situation as Lando or you are. “No biggie, I’m sure we’ll see each other around. It’s a small place.” You bid him goodbye, but you don’t get very far before he’s hollering. “Can I at least get your Instagram?” Which has you coming back and quickly exchanging usernames before you're off again to find Lando.
You run into him in the bar and it looks like he was coming back out towards the patio. A look of relief washes over him when he sees you and he’s leading you away from the loud music and out the front exit before either of you can say anything. Only once the bass of the music is a faint sound in the distance does Lando speak up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with that guy. I was coming back in when you found me.”
“I appreciate you looking out for me, but you were kinda rude to him for no reason.”
Guess you were diving in head first with this.
Lando stops walking and turns to face you, a confused look on his face. “I wasn’t being rude.”
“Yes you were. We were having a conversation and you just butted in and demanded we leave. Not to mention you wouldn’t even speak to him. He was nice, you would have liked him if you gave him the time of day.”
“You barely know the guy, you talked to him for what ten-fifteen minutes? I just didn’t have a good feeling about him.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his dumb excuse. He shook the guy's hand and didn’t get a good feeling about him? Bullshit. “Well if you didn’t have a good feeling about him then why’d you leave me with him?” He’d started to walk again, but stopped dead in his tracks at your words, spinning on his heel to face you once again.
“I already told you I regretted leaving you. I just had to get out of there for a second.”
“Why?” You were being adamant, your arms crossed across your chest as you waited for his answer.
He knew exactly why, but he couldn’t tell you that, he hadn’t even fully accepted it himself. “I don’t know Y/N.”
You’re getting frustrated with him and these damn heels that you chose to wear are not making your mood any better. “There’s a reason for everything, Lando. How would you like it if I acted like you did tonight with a girl you were talking to? You’d be livid.”
He completely ignores your accusation and turns the conversation in another direction. It had been itching at him to know if you were just being nice or if you were actually interested in the guy, so he plucked up the courage to ask. “So you were flirting with him?”
The look on your face is one of pure confusion, but your tone is nothing but shitty. “I’m not sure how you jumped to that conclusion from what I said or why it’s really any of your concern, but yeah it was just some harmless flirting. I’m sorry for having a little fun!” You were thankful that it was late enough for the street to be relatively empty, the last thing that needed to happen was pictures or a video getting out of you two arguing. You were sure there were already rumors about you two being on vacation together, you could only imagine how this would be misconstrued.
Hearing that his best friend was potentially interested in someone else had his head spinning and he could no longer blame his reactions on the alcohol. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, ignore the way his heart raced when he looked at you. Or how he loved hearing that old lady call you his girl the other day.
It had been building up– festering almost this whole week and maybe subconsciously he wanted to go on this trip with you to see if there was some truth to what everyone had teased him about. He just didn’t think it would actually be true. Or that at two in the morning on a dimly lit street in Italy, during an argument, he would finally accept that he was in love with you.
But even with him realizing he’s in love with you, that doesn’t stop him from being an absolute idiot. “He was probably just using you to get to me.” Lando immediately regrets what he said as soon as it comes out of his mouth. He knows that's a sore subject for you and the look of hurt on your face makes his stomach churn.
“Now you’re just being mean.” You’re sure it’s a mixture of things that are contributing to the salty tears welling up in your eyes at the moment, but it’s Lando’s comment that actually makes them fall. You’re storming off before he can say anything, wishing you would have just stayed at the bar with Harry.
Lando knows he’s an idiot, but he also knows he’s the one who lit the match, which means he’s gotta be the one to put it out. “Y/N come on. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that.” He catches up with you rather quickly, your heels slowing you down.
“Just leave me be Lando.”
“Y/N. Stop walking for just a minute.” He’s grabbing at your arm, trying to halt your movement.
You stop and face him and for what it’s worth he does look sorry, but that doesn’t change how you feel. “What? You want to poke fun at me some more?”
“No I-”
“You know I was just having a little harmless fun with that guy, like you said I talked to him for what? Fifteen minutes? Nothing was going to come out of it. But is it really that far-fetched of an idea for a guy to actually be interested in me just for me? Am I that undesirable and unlovable for it to seem like a reality? Or was he like everyone else who’s used me and threw me away as soon as they got their five minutes of the almighty Lando Norris experience?”
The tears that slide down your cheeks are a mixture of anger and embarrassment and maybe you were being a little dramatic. Perhaps the multiple drinks you’d consumed weren’t helping either, but when the person you care about the most says something like that, something you’d confided in him about, it hurts.
Lando feels his heart break to hear you talk about yourself like that. All he wants to do is to scream out that you’re not undesirable or unlovable. He’s wanted you and loved you for some time now, the moment it started he’s not sure, but he knows it didn’t happen overnight. It’s always been there– he was just too blind to see it.
He’s not entirely sure on how to make this right, he knows he was an ass, but he also knows he can’t take back what’s been said. The worst part is that he knows exactly how you feel and somehow he still thought that was a good thing to throw in your face– all because he was jealous. He could deal with people trying to use him, he’d developed a sixth sense for them and never let it get too far, but you were too kind. Your big heart and trusting of others had gotten you burned one too many times and it hurt Lando even more to know that all that had happened because of him.
“I should have never said that to you. I know first hand how it feels to have people use me and the only reason you’ve had to deal with that is because of me. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Your sniffles fill the night air as you try to calm yourself down. While people used you to get to Lando, at least they didn’t want to be your friend to leech off your fame. Use you for your money and generosity, expecting paddock passes and some lavish lifestyle. People saw Lando as an object rather than a person more times than not. While your feelings were valid and Lando was still an ass for saying that, you realized to be in his shoes was worse. So, you wipe away your tears and accept his apology indirectly. “Think we’ve only got each other at this point.”
His voice is soft as he approaches you, his hand reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Don’t think I need anyone else but you.”
The tender moment has you turning to putty in his hands– the argument pushed to the back of your mind. His hand moves to cup your face and his tumb brushes gently across your cheek. You feel like time has frozen in this moment and for a split second you swear he looks at your lips, like he’s going to kiss you. The fact that this is your best friend is no concern to you at the moment. Then the moment between you two is ruined just as fast as it began, the sound of a very loud and drunk group of people leaving the bar up the street brings you both back to reality.
You back away from each other slowly, like you weren’t sure exactly what had just almost happened. You’d already resorted to blaming it on both of your emotions still running wild and the alcohol still coursing through your veins. The group of people are getting closer, their obnoxious singing getting louder as each second passes. They might not even know who Lando is, but you aren’t in the mood to wait around and find out, the last thing you want to deal with right now is drunk fans. “We’ve had too much to drink, my head and feet hurt. Let’s go home.” You grumble as you begin the trek home once again, your feet aching more and more with each step.
Lando stops for a moment and kicks off his shoes, he couldn’t let you walk in pain the whole way home. Especially after the pain he had caused moments ago. “Here put these on, your feet are killing you.” He hands you the white sneakers before squatting down in front of you to help you get your heels off.
Your feet already thank you as you slip on the oversized shoes that clomp on the stone street. And like a magnet you find yourself wrapping your arm around his as you walk down the street. You’re sure you two are a sight–you in shoes that are way too big and Lando only in socks as he holds your heels for you.
“You know you’re still an ass.” You tell him as you lean your head on his shoulder.
“I know.”
“You know you aren’t unloveable.” He hopes you know he’s being sincere, your words still replaying in his mind as you walk.
“I know.”
By the time you make it back to the villa you’re both exhausted. The alcohol, the argument, that moment between you two, the walk home– you were sure tomorrow morning would be a rough one. There aren’t many words spoken as you get ready for bed and as you slide under the covers next to Lando you can’t shake something from your mind from tonight, and it wasn’t the argument.
It was the fact that during the whole time you were chatting with Harry, you couldn’t help but compare him to Lando. There wasn’t the same sparkle in his eye like Lando, his smile wasn’t the same, his laugh. It seemed like everything that you noticed about this guy came second best to Lando. Sure you were having fun and he was nice, but not once had the thought of Lando slipped your mind. And even right now, with Lando next to you, you’re still somehow thinking about him.
It didn’t take long for Lando to fall asleep and you were on the verge of it when your phone went off on the nightstand. Usually, you would just ignore it, but something in you told you to see what it was.
harryinsta is now following you
You then see that he had sent you a DM and you’re expecting it to be about meeting up some time, which you were going to politely decline, but it’s quite the opposite.
harryintsa: i must have been mistaken earlier. lando's not an idiot.
yourinsta: huh?
harryinsta: he’s in love with you lol
Your heart nearly beats out of your chest as you read the message over and over again. Lando wasn’t in love with you, was he? Sure you’d heard it from just about everyone in your life that you two were in love with each other, but you always thought it was silly. You guys were just best friends is what you would always say, but to hear it come from a literal stranger was different.
You couldn’t lie that you hadn’t recently had your moments of perhaps thinking that he did, though you’d always talk yourself out of the idea. Although, if he was in love with you that may explain his behavior tonight. Or maybe it was just the alcohol like you’d originally thought. Then the tender moment you two shared entered your mind and suddenly the gears in your head are working overtime.
You locked your phone and sat it back down on the nightstand. Just from a simple DM you’d gone from being dead tired to now being wide awake– staring at the ceiling. You’re not sure how much time had passed as you laid there over analyzing every interaction with Lando. You were struggling enough trying to figure out the things you had recently felt about Lando, let alone the possibility that he was in love with you. All you knew for sure was that things weren’t the same between you two, you’d felt a shift when you were with him in Monaco before the Belgium GP. It had only amplified during this trip and you had a feeling that by the end of it things would be different.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Two days later you’re sunbathing on a comfy lounger on the beach, while Lando’s out in the water doing god knows what. You’d given up on watching him a while ago, deciding instead to be productive and try to catch up to Lando’s tan level. Which, after laying here for some time now, it seemed impossible. That boy could be in the sun for a day and have a glowing tan– you not so much.
Moments later you think a cloud has passed in front of the sun, but when you feel cool water droplets on your hot skin you peek open one eye to find a wet and grinning Lando standing over you. “Hi.”
“Hi.” You greet him back as you sit up, your smile matching his. “Did you have fun out there?”
“I had a lot of fun and the water felt amazing. You should have got in.”
“I will later.” You notice he’s got one of his hands behind his back like he’s hiding something. “Lan, what have you got?” He tries to play dumb for a moment, trying to wind you up, but he eventually caves and pulls a plastic pail from behind his back. “Please don’t tell me you stole that from a kid.” Your half joking and half being serious, because where the hell did he get that from?
“I did not steal it from a kid– I borrowed it.” The smile on his face never falls as he continues to speak. “They had a bunch of them. I don't think they’ll miss it. Plus I needed something to put your present in.”
You cock an eyebrow at him, curiosity written all over your face. “My present?”
He’s smiling so hard as he sits down at the end of the lounger that you think this must be the best present in the world. Seconds later the pail is turned upside down and out falls the prettiest seashells. Your heart swells when you realize all that time he had spent out in the water he was looking for shells– for you. There’s a light pink one that catches your eye and Lando notices when you reach for it.
“Knew you’d like that one.”
Of course he knew that, sometimes you think he knows you better than you know yourself. “Can’t believe you spent all that time finding them.”
He shrugs like it’s an everyday thing. “I knew it would make you happy, which meant I enjoyed doing it. Really only took me so long because I wanted them all to be perfect for you.”
The sun beating down on you feels cold with how hard you’re blushing. “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”
Lando starts to get shy when you get sappy, like he hadn’t just said the sweetest thing a second ago. He’s smiling, but focuses on carefully putting the shells back into the pail. “You’re my favorite person too.”
A while later you decide to open up the umbrella between the two loungers. You had chosen to give up on the tanning lifestyle and instead dive into a new book. While Lando was fast asleep on the lounger next to you, apparently all that hunting for shells had worn him out.
You’d noticed out of the corner of your eye awhile ago that a little boy kept glancing over in your direction, specifically at Lando. You knew he had to have been a fan or he was the kid Lando stole the pail from. The nervous glances back and forth tell you that thankfully he’s a fan and you think it’s the cutest thing. You’re in the middle of considering waking Lando up so the boy could come over when you hear a groan that is undoubtedly Lando awaking from his slumber.
“What are you looking at?” He asks as he rubs his eyes.
You nod your head in the direction of the boy who’s just seen that Lando is awake and is practically bouncing with glee. “Think you may have a fan.”
A big grin spreads across Lando’s face as he sees the little boy. Lando loved meeting all his fans, but meeting the kids was his favorite. He thinks a big part of the reason he always makes sure to find time for the younger fans was because he was that kid once. Before he was ever F1 driver Lando Norris, he was just a kid who finally got the chance to meet their idol and he knows that picture or an autograph means the world to them
Lando motions for the boy to come over and he’s instantly tugging on his Mom’s shirt to get her to come with him. She gives you guys a questioning look and when Lando motions again they both come over.
The little boy’s Italian accent is the cutest thing ever as he greets you two and you can tell just how much it means to him to be talking to Lando.
“What’s your name?” Lando asks as he signs a beach towel of all things.
“Luca and I’m seven!”
“Seven is a great age. You know I started karting when I was seven!”
Luca’s eyes get as wide as saucers as he glances back at his Mom, who is already shutting down any talk of Luca karting. “I told you possibly next year. You’re still my little baby. I don't want you getting hurt!”
Lando gives the Mom an apologetic look. “How about a picture?” Which easily takes Luca’s attention away from karting, as he’s already at Lando’s side with a big smile on his face before his Mom has her phone out.
They take a couple pictures and high fives are exchanged throughout their interaction. The whole thing is very sweet and you can’t help but look on in adoration, fully knowing that Lando would make a great Father one day.
You see that Luca keeps looking over at you and then back to Lando, but you don’t pay that much mind to it. You figured he was just nervous or something, but what comes out of his mouth next takes you by surprise.
“Your girlfriend is very pretty.”
You feel your heart skip a beat and you glance over at Lando to see what his reaction is. You prepare yourself for the worst, but in true Lando fashion he’s all smiles. In fact he’s sporting that full face smile of his and it makes you feel funny.
“Thank you buddy, I think so too.” He looks over at you with nothing but love in his eyes and you’re immediately looking away like some shy school girl.
Thankfully, the Mom comes to your aid and quickly changes the subject. “Ok Luca, you’ve bothered them enough. We should get back to our spot. Thank them for their time.”
His cute little voice mutters out grazie as he gives you a small wave goodbye.
“It was very nice to meet you, Luca.” Lando bids him farewell and you both wave back at the little boy.
As soon as they’re gone you’re immediately shoving your face back into your book, you don’t even want to talk about what had just happened. It was nothing really to be so worked up over, it was just a little kid who saw two people together and assumed they were together. It happens all the time. But it is a big deal when you find yourself liking being referred to as Lando’s girlfriend. It doesn’t help when neither of you deny it and correct the person. Lando likes to play into it and you love it too much to say anything.
Ever since getting that DM the other night your mind had been in a whirlwind over how Lando felt about you and how you felt about him. Hell you can’t even look at him right now, you’re so in your head that you’ve been staring at the same page for the last five minutes. You just wished the book you were reading could tell you how to come to terms with the fact that you’re in love with your best friend.
It was something you’d realized the other night while you were awake overthinking everything. Those feelings had always been there, but you had just pushed them aside, ignoring every little butterfly or rapid heartbeat. When they actually turned into romantic feelings you have no clue because as far as you knew, you and Lando had always been like this.
You two just dove in head first into the co-dependent friendship that was more like a relationship lifestyle. All those times you’d gone to his parents house for family dinners and holidays, both of you attached at the hip. How he wanted to ask you to move to Monaco with him and then almost didn’t even move because he said he’d miss you too much. The group vacations that always ended up with you two going off and doing your own thing. The texts from him every Wednesday before a race asking if he needed to get you a paddock pass and a flight. This trip in particular– sleeping in the same bed when you don’t have to, the cuddling, the getting mistaken for a couple three times so far, the fact that it was just you two alone on the trip.
It was all there the whole time and you wondered how you could have been so blind to not realize it sooner. You were in love with him. You loved his pretty eyes and curls and the way his real laugh only seemed to come out around you. You loved his big heart and his caring nature and sometimes you thought he was too nice to be a Formula 1 driver.
You loved everything about him and truth be told it made your stomach hurt from how much you loved him. You wanted to actually be his and be able to kiss those pink lips that you sometimes found yourself staring at. When people said you were his girlfriend you wanted it to actually be true and not have it be Lando just playing along. You were so down bad that you prayed that Harry was right and that Lando was actually in love with you too.
While you were freaking out, so was Lando. When you immediately went back to reading your book and not speaking a word, he figured he had weirded you out by basically implying that you were his girlfriend. He just figured it was easier to go along with what the kid thought than explain that you weren’t his girlfriend, but god does he wish you were. He didn’t know what to say to try and test the waters because he knew whatever he would say would come out awkward and he didn’t want to make things worse. So, once again it’s not talked about and you two pretend that it didn’t happen when you finally speak again.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
It’s the last day of the trip and you’re dreading going back to reality and away from this little slice of heaven. The only thing you have to look forward to is the supposed fancy dinner that Lando had planned for tonight, which was what you were currently getting ready for. Music plays through your phone and you softly sing along as you do your makeup. When you look up after digging in your makeup bag you spot Lando in the mirror, leaning against the door frame behind you. Your eyes lower and you see that he’s holding two gift bags.
"Those better be for your Mom.” You state as you put the finishing touches on your makeup.
“I think we both know they aren’t.” He sees you roll your eyes in the mirror and it only makes him want to spoil you more. “It’s our last day, I think you deserve a parting gift.”
You turn to face him as he makes his way over to you. “I haven’t gotten you a single thing this whole time. It makes me feel bad.”
Lando only shakes his head at you. “You being here with me is the best gift you could have ever gotten me. I truly don’t need anything else.” He hands you the bags. “Now open them please.”
A small smile finds its way onto your face as you take the bags from him. You decide to open the bigger bag first and once you pull out the tissue paper you know exactly what it is. It’s still in its dust bag, but you see the branding and your jaw is dropping before you even see the actual thing. “You did not get me this bag Lando!” You exclaim as you remove the dust bag and see that it’s the same bag you were eyeing at the store the other day.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Saw you eyeing it and knew I had to get it for you and before you say anything else open the other present.”
You set the handbag down and grab the smaller gift trying to figure out what else he could have possibly gotten you. When you open it and see the bracelet you were also looking at the other day you’re at a loss for words. “Lando Norris!” You could slap him, hug him, kiss him, and yell at him all at once. He’d dropped probably close to six grand on these two gifts and your head is spinning at the thought of it.
“Don’t even say anything about the price. I know you’re thinking it, but I wouldn’t have bought you them if I couldn’t afford it. I wanted you to have them, you deserve nice things.” You deserved a lot more than a handbag and a bracelet, but what he thought you deserved money couldn’t buy.
You know there's no use in fighting him on it, but you still feel bad that he just spends all this money on you. He takes the bracelet from the box and fastens it around your wrist, the diamonds glittering in the light as you move it around. It’s truly stunning and the handbag will go great with your outfit tonight. As soon as you two make eye contact again you’re pulling him into a bone crushing hug and you two stay like that for probably longer than necessary. “Thank you a million times Lan. I love them both so much.”
It’s time to leave for dinner shortly after that and when you arrive at the restaurant the host guides you back to a secluded corner. It’s a very romantic ambiance and you can’t help but feel like you’re on a date, which wouldn’t be a horrible thing. Moments later a waiter comes over with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “It’s on the house– for the special couple.”
There it is again and it seems like with each time it happens it makes your heart race even more. Lando shifts in his seat and you focus on the rising bubbles in the glasses as the waiter pours the champagne. Lando tells him thank you and your attention moves to the menu.
“What are you thinking about getting?” You ask, ignoring the obvious.
“Probably the steak.” He grabs the flute of champagne and takes a drink. “What was that? The fourth time now?”
You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you’re surprised he’s decided to talk about it. “Yeah it was.” You set the menu down and grab the other flute. “Think I’ll get the steak too.”
Dinner actually turns out to be an amazing time. The food is decadent and Lando and you have good conversations that don’t revolve around you two being mistaken for a couple or being in love with each other. When the waiter brings the bill you’re quite sad because that just means this trip is that much closer to being over.
You take your time heading back to the villa, trying to savor every last moment you’ve got here. The sun was low in the sky by the time you get back and you tell Lando just how you want to spend your final evening in Italy. You hurry and change into comfier clothes and take off all your makeup before heading to the spot with the best view out back. Lando makes his way out there not too long after you, but he’s got one more surprise for you.
“Don’t think the evening or this trip would be complete without this now would it?” He pulls a bottle of pink moscato from behind his back along with two wine glasses.
He knew you too well, but it was something you loved dearly about him. “You’re a man after my heart Norris.”
He hands you a glass as he sits down next to you, the sun just beginning to set on the horizon. “I try.”
There’s a comfortable silence between you two for a while and the only sound to be heard is from the waves below. It feels like paradise sitting here with this amazing view and the guy you love next to you. It’s probably boring to the majority of people, but this was everything you could ask for and more and the perfect way to end this amazing trip. You lean in closer to Lando, your head resting on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. A content sigh escapes past your lips as his thumb starts to draw mindless circles on your arm.
“Thank you again for everything. This trip was amazing and I’m glad we got to go together– just you and me.”
“I’m glad too. It was probably the best summer break trip I’ve had. Don’t think Ibiza will be seeing me for a while.”
You’re not even looking at him, but you can sense the smile on his face and you can’t help but laugh at his lie. “Yeah, and I don’t like pink moscato.”
“Alright so Ibiza will inevitably see me, but not as much as Italy.” He pauses for a moment, glancing down at you still resting on his shoulder, his heart swelling just by looking at you. “I think this may be our place now, just for the two of us.” His voice is soft when he says it, like he’s not sure if he wanted to say it outloud.
You lift your head up and are met with his piercing blue eyes staring back at you. He looked radiant as golden hour cascades over him and it’s like you’re in a trance as you look at him. You take in every last bit of him, all the little details about him that you’ve memorized over the years. The slight stubble on his face from not shaving for a couple days, the little moles, his long and somehow always curled eyelashes, those pink lips of his. He’s everything you could have ever dreamed of and more. You’ve had him at fingertip length for so long now and all you want to do is reach out for him, take what you want and never let go.
Lando feels his breath catch in his throat as you two make eye contact. You’d never looked more beautiful than in this moment and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take without you actually being his. You were the love of his life, his best friend, and everything he’s ever wanted. It may have taken him a long time to realize it, but he’s never felt like this about anyone before. You know each other like the back of your hands and it only makes sense that you’d be the one for him.
And it’s in this moment that it clicks for you two that it’s now or never. You’re never going to have a perfect moment like this again. It feels right, like the universe wants this moment to happen and if you let it go to waste you may never get the chance again. Lando takes his free hand and gently cups your face, his thumb ever so softly rubbing across your cheek. You’re practically putty in his hands and you feel like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. You want to scream out to him that you love him, that you want to be his, but you can barely get your brain to communicate with your mouth.
“Lan-”
That’s all you can get out before Lando’s leaning in and his lips are on yours. He tastes like the sugary sweet wine and his lips are soft as they move in sync with yours. Kissing him is even better than you’d imagined and as your hand reaches up to his neck you deepen the kiss. It feels like you two had kissed a thousand times before and as he pulls away you’re already left wanting more.
Your foreheads rest against each other, both of you breathless and a little light headed from that singular kiss. When you both actually internalize what’s just happened you’re both grinning, that then turns into laughing and it’s like music to both of your ears to hear each other laugh.
“I think that was a long time coming.” You state as you finally lean back onto the couch.
Lando reaches out for your hand, intertwining his with yours. “When did you realize?”
“That night when we got into that argument, which looking back now, you were totally jealous.”
“I was not jealous!” He tries to be serious, but the knowing look on your face has him cracking. “Ok I was jealous.”
“When did you realize?” You question.
“That same night. I couldn’t understand why you flirting with that guy bothered me so much. Well I guess now we know.”
“Yeah cause you’re in loooveee with me.” You’re laughing as you speak, but he shuts you up with another kiss and leaves you pouting when he pulls away.
“Only kissed you twice and you’re already pouting when I pull away? I think you’re in loooveee with me.”
You lean back in, capturing his lips in yet another kiss and you’re like teenagers who’ve gotten into their first relationship.
Lando sighs when you stop kissing him, he can’t believe he could have had this sooner if he would have just opened his eyes. “You think you could get another week off from work?”
You’d do anything to get another week in a paradise with him, but you know it’s not possible. “Hmm, why don’t you just spend a week in London with me?”
“Well you haven’t even told them that you now have a famous F1 driver boyfriend. Who if they didn’t know already is very needy and needs to see his girlfriend.” He teases.
“Well you forgot to add that you’re my hot and famous F1 driver boyfriend.” You counter back.
You’re both grinning like fools at each other and as you curl up into his side and take in the last sunset you’ll see in the place that now holds such a special place in both of your hearts, you’re glad you let him convince you to come on this trip.
As the sun finally sets over the water you actually say those three little words.
easy to please
lando norris x you
rating – mature (sexual themes, coarse language)
blurb for ✨monzamusings✨
thinking about u, the text read. above it, there was a photo – dark, a little bit blurry, possibly a figment of your weary imagination. a hand pressing down on black cotton, tanned and veiny – a hand you immediately recognised. fingers too, gripping the thin material and an outline that had you sitting up in bed, lazy smile slipping across your flushed cheeks as the picture came into focus. lip bitten.
baby, was all you sent in reply. your eyelids fluttered shut momentarily, loosing the battle to sleep until you felt your phone buzzing, resting in your slack hand. they were coming thick and fast and bringing you back into the present. your fingers tingled from the sensation when you held it up and nearly dropped the bright screen on your squinting forehead.
don’t baby me
i miss u
can i call please???? winky face emoji.
you sighed sharply into the plush pillow beside your head, wondering whether or not you had the energy for it. the appetite was always there. hell – all you could think about was him; even in the mundane moments, he was everywhere you looked – your work, your friends, the cheesy rom com that made you cry before wrapping yourself up in a blanket and falling asleep. you missed him. the back and forth, the will they won’t they bullshit nearly sending you into a spiral of complete and utter confusion. the future was uncertain; the distance between where you were and wherever he was in the world unbearable but what you did know was that you loved him, missed him. and he was yours.
heartbreakingly so.
alright romeo but make it quick
always am hehe. dickhead.
the phone call connected after one, maybe half a ring – there was no pretence anymore with you and lando. this was routine now, the late night calls across oceans, and it was always the same. whispered, i miss you's and i love you's, strangled moans, hands frantically chasing the high of what you knew felt like heaven together, by whatever means necessary, the best dirty talk you could ever imagine, barely tiding you over until you could be close enough to feel each other again.
“hi pretty girl.”
“hi boyfriend”
“ugh, i love it when you call me that. say it again…”
and you did, over and over until the late night giggles took hold and lando couldn’t breathe – the goofy smile scrunching the corners of his dry eyes, fatigue and exhaustion lingering in his hoarse voice.
“you should be sleeping.”
“i would be if you were here,” he stated matter of fact, not even a blinking, “i think i got used to having you with me over winter break… spoiled me too much and now i'm ruined for life.”
“so dramatic.”
“i’m being so real,” he yawned and by the soft grumble on the other end, he was definitely stretching out his sore, weary muscles like cat. there was a beat and a click of the tongue before lando spoke again, the ominous silence already making your eyes playfully roll.
“so… what are you wearing right now?”
“unbelievable…”
“you cant blame a man for asking, especially in my hour of need… show me pleeeeease” lando whined, toothy smile no doubt lining his chapped lips.
“what if I’m not wearing anything?” you taunted, snapping a quick photo and sending it through without a second thought.
lando quickly peaked, side-eyeing the screen sneakily and sighed when he realised you were pulling his chain, “i'm wearing some shirt you left behind because it’s hotter than satan's asshole here in london at the moment.”
he groaned more to himself than to you, eyes scanning your curves under the thin material, fixated on how unconstricted you were under the shirt he recognised, breasts pert. lando was restless and you really did deserve more than the desperado ‘what are you wearing’ pick up line but god, he wanted to know, no, he needed to know because if he didn't find out, he feared he may never recover.
after all, it was you that had him sick in love. and perpetually horny.
“think i might like you in my clothes more than naked…"
“you’re a sicko.”
“mmm you make me like this… and no bra, like are you trying to kill me?”
“always.”
you cupped your chest over his shirt and took another photo, teasing the gorgeous man waiting for your every move with bated breath. he’d sucked in his bottom lip, you could hear by how shallow his breathing had become, reminiscent of a panting dog – the sound alone quickened your heart rate. the image of him sitting in a hotel room alone, hand pressed to his aching cock thinking about you, parched to the point of a sleepless night was dizzying.
and it was easy with lando, the familiarity of his voice and the rhythm you effortlessly fell into. all remnants of consciousness melted away with him.
“wish i was there with you baby,” he whispered and you nodded, smiling, even though he couldn’t see how happy it made you to hear him say it.
“me too,” you sighed, relaxing into the stillness until your loud, obnoxious doorbell shook you from the peaceful silence.
“fuck!” you cursed, frozen in place.
“what?”
“someones at the door…”
“what time is it there?”
“like 11pm… should i ignore it?” you were already grabbing the cardigan you'd thrown over the end of your bed and halfway to the door, curiosity winning out.
“nah, nah. you’re on the phone with me – answer it,” he encouraged, “i wanna make sure it isn’t your side piece coming ‘round when i’m not there.”
“ha-ha, actually my other boyfriend is already here, i've been trying to get you off the phone this whole time...”
"hmm, lucky cunt." he mumbled.
lando made you brave, stupidly brave so you swung the door open without hesitation, locked and loaded with a line of interrogating questions for the person interrupting the precious time you had with the man you love.
but you were hearing double as you held the phone to your ear and looked up – you knew that mess of frazzled curls and tired eyes anywhere, peering back with a smile the size of the moon curling at the corners of his lips. he was bundled up in a hoodie, one you knew would feel warm to the touch and smelled like him.
you had to be dreaming.
“better go tell your other boyfriend to pack his shit and get the fuck out of our house.”
“lando…” tears welled in your eyes as you lunged into his open arms.
“hi pretty girl…” he chuckled, picking you up without hesitation and hooked your legs around his waist, carrying you over the threshold.
“why didn’t you say you were coming home?”
“surprises are sexy, no?” he asked, voice deliciously low. he knew your answer.
“very sexy.” you moaned and pressed firm, fiery kisses into his strong neck, “you’re so sexy – all of this is sexy… god, i love you.”
“love you too sweetheart – let’s go to bed.”
“to sleep?” you asked, with doe-eyes and a devilish grin.
“yeah, i flew eleven fuckin' hours to just sleep… oh and by the way," lando narrowed his eyes and pointed to the crinkled shirt hanging from your shoulders, you looked a mess.
"i want my shirt back right now.”
you hummed and twirled down the hallway, “you’re gonna have to pry it off my cold, horny body, norris…”
“mission accepted,” lando confidently stated, chest puffed as he started stripping his hoodie from his body and inched closer and closer to where you were stood and all you could do was admire the gorgeous man stalking towards you.
oh, and blink a few times to make sure you definitely weren't dreaming, "i can't believe you were sexting me in the back of a cab."
“i know," he chuckled, "it was getting a bit much by the end there, so i walked the last couple of blocks to calm myself down."
you couldn't suppress the moan building in your throat at his touch and his confession – your mind was running wild, "that's so hot."
"you are." he quipped, hands slowly tracing your sides and cupping your chest in his warm palms.
"this is way better than phone sex.”
lando shrugged as you ran your hands down his toned stomach, thumbs circling the indents just above his hips, “i’ll take anything with you – it’s all good to me.”
“you’re easy to please.”
“well, you make it easy – god, look at you,” he exhaled, brushing the loose strands of hair from your face and all you could do was smile.
“i’m glad you’re home, ya goof. it doesn't feel right without you here."
“me too, baby. meee too.” lando smiled and planted a longing kiss to your pouty lips.
more writing...
bit of backstory with this blurb; it was originally going to be a follow up to another fic i wrote called lost in japan and then got buried in the wip graveyard. somehow it resurfaced in my doc folder right when i needed it and i feel like it still kinda fits in the lost in japan universe - selfishly i love those characters. anyways, i hope you enjoyed it 💋
in which you’re on vacation with your ex boyfriend, the only man who’s been able to make you cum in recent times.
warnings; smut, unprotected sex, eavesdropping, cocky lando, ex lovers, conversations of masturbation and inability to orgasm, hair pulling, oral both receiving, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, choking ect.
it was a throw away question. one lando probably shouldn’t have brushed off.
“you’re sure you’re fine with her coming?” max had asked so casually despite it being on this tip of his tongue for the last hour, eyes not lifting from his phone to see the way lando looked at him with raised eyebrows.
the driver said your name in confusion, even chuckled. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” lando followed; a rhetorical question. he knew why max was asking such thing.
he watched as max shrugged, hummed mindlessly as if he didn’t have a response prepared.
“wouldn’t catch me wanting to share a roof with my ex,” max mused; putting his phone down and finally meeting lando’s eyes, glare more so, quick to put his hands up in defence. “just saying. something to think about,” max quickly added.
he had his best friends best interest at heart.
“so what? we tell her she can’t come?” lando scoffed, shaking his head as he leant back into the seat he was occupying. “we’re friends. hasn’t been an issue before.” lando dismissed.
and he wasn’t lying. you’d broken up almost a year ago, which was concerning at first considering you shared the same friend group. were friends before lovers.
but it worked, you’d remained friends. saw each other every now and then, in a group setting. you weren’t as close, obviously, but it wasn’t awkward.
“no i know,” max huffed; even rolling his eyes. “maybe two villa’s is something to think about, that’s all.” max shrugged once more. he wasn’t just thinking of lando, but you as well, his other dear friend.
the brit shook his head, not giving in to the worry max seemed to hold. “not necessary. no different than being at the same hotel.” lando concluded.
he’d seen you on nights out, had conversations with you on boats; you still got an invite and paddock pass to his home race.
there was nothing to worry about. if you two weren’t capable of being friends, such thing would’ve been exposed.
that’s what lando thought anyways.
standing on the deck of a ten bedroom villa in the south of france however, he realised maybe he should’ve considered max’s words more carefully.
small doses of you seemed to differ from your constant presence.
the break up was civil, lando was grateful for such thing. it’d been him who ended things, purely because he felt as if he couldn’t give you the time you deserve. it was a cop out, he feared, realising things were almost too good between the pair of you.
he wasn’t sure he could commit to putting you through a relationship where you wouldn’t get the time and treatment you deserved.
you took it well, an angel in fact; you wanted to hate him for it. but you couldn’t bring yourself too. selfless enough to put the peace of your mutual friends and him first. plus, losing him entirely left a bitter taste in your mouth.
you’d mourned the relationship, cried in private and cursed him to your best friend; and moved on. well, appeared to have.
it went unspoken, amongst the group; in front of you two at least, and between you two as well. not exactly something you were ready to laugh at yet. it just seemed to go… unaddressed.
until it was night two, dinner at a fancy restaurant with maybe a few too many bottles of wine meant piling into ubers to get back to the villa.
it sort of just happened, lando shuffling into the car behind you; leaving you in the middle of him and max; pietra on max’s lap and tom in the front.
your senses were consumed of him immediately, not able to avoid him considering you were practically pressed into his side in an attempt to give pietra enough room.
you glanced up at him once, smiling sheepishly to see his eyes already on you.
“you still wear it,” lando hummed casually, pinky finger reaching to brush over the bracelet he’d bought you a few months into your relationship, grazing your wrist as he did so.
your cheeks went a shade of pink at the observation, and if it weren’t for the fact you were wine drunk you probably would’ve made up an excuse as to why the piece of metal still found it’s way onto your wrist everyday.
“it’s my favourite,” you replied; glancing down at the piece as your hand moved to fiddle with it, small smile playing on your lips.
you missed the grin spread on lando’s face, a sense of pride fulfilling him as he recounted the stress it had caused him just picking out the damn bracelet. he was relieved to see you still wearing it, for some reason.
“i’ve got good taste.” lando bragged, eyes practically begging for yours to meet his again; smiling in amusement when they did as you nudged him.
you were suddenly even more aware of the closeness, the way your knees were touching, how his arm had stretched to rest over the headrest behind you. it was forced proximity sure, but an odd sense of familiarity that you hadn’t felt in a while was accompanying it.
“most of the time,” you mused, earning a nudge back ━ which had a giggle escaping you, one you attempted to hush; not wanting to draw attention to you and lando’s conversation.
if it did, the others in the car would’ve seen the way lando’s face lit up at the sound. he hadn’t made you laugh like that in months, he’d forgotten how good it felt to do so.
he’d almost forgotten how easy you were to be around. how easy it was to fall for you in the first place.
it was as if the universe was punishing him for such thing, because suddenly you were all he could think about once more.
that night, he was simply relaxing in his room; when you came waltzing in.
“p,” your voice hummed as you knocked; pushing the door open before lando could muster a response from inside. “do you have my top━ oh shit, sorry!” you’d cut yourself short when you found yourself standing in lando’s room. not pietra and max’s.
who was luckily just lounging on the bed in his joggers, not far from switching the lamp off and going to sleep.
but he had been shocked to see you enter his room in just a towel.
“you’re fine,” lando chuckled; having sit up. “we swapped rooms this morning… figured they should have a private bathroom,” lando explained; watching as your face softened in some sort of relief.
you hadn’t been crazy. regardless, still embarrassed; the redness on your cheeks clear as you nodded, cringing ever so slightly.
“right; my bad, sorry,” you repeated; not even wanting to imagine what else you could’ve walked in on.
lando simply chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes glanced over your figure just once; unable to help himself. having to swallow to not let himself think back to what he knows is underneath the towel keeping you modest.
“i’m gonna go,” you declared; sheepishly smiling as you turned on your heel; cringing once more now that you were out of sight, not hiding the urgency as you practically fled his room and slammed the door behind you.
lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until you left, body relaxing as he flopped back onto the mattress; a curse leaving his lips.
the next morning, you were there again. obviously. yet he couldn’t see you, nor could you see him. so technically he was eavesdropping; but it hadn’t been on purpose.
lando was out on his balcony first, which was above yours it appeared; mindlessly scrolling through his phone before arabella’s voice became audible, who you were rooming with this trip.
“since when did nicolas get ripped,” she’d posed to you, peering at the man who was dipping in the pool; your eyes following her gaze from where you both sat in deck chairs; smoothies in hand.
“he’s always been cute,” you pointed out; shrugging ever so slightly as you adjusted the sunglasses atop your head, rolling your eyes the moment you caught glance of arabella’s grin.
“and he’s always been into you.” arabella chimed, and you should’ve expected her to steer the conversation in such direction.
lando whoever, who hadn’t scrolled past the tik tok which was playing for the fourth time now, had not expected such words.
his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you and nicolas? yeah right. you two were close friends, he knew that much. but nothing more. surely not.
“we’re friends bella,” you dismissed; shaking your head. slightly flirty friends as of recent, you’d admit. but just friends.
“so? doesn’t have to stay that way,” arabella had grinned ━ and lando felt betrayed; as if it should be him the pair of you were talking about. not nicolas.
“yes it does.” you laughed. “i’m not dating within the friend group ever again,” you spoke in such certainty it had lando confused, he didn’t think it faired that bad the first time.
but he also wasn’t opposed to your declaration. not that he was close to nicolas, in fact he probably knew him the least. but he was a brother of a childhood friend, who’d tagged along the last few trips. and lando had no complaints of the guy.
“don’t be silly,” arabella huffed. “i’m not saying fall in love with him. just that he could end the sex drought you’re stuck in.” arabella hummed, your eyes widening as you hit her softly.
“what? no one can hear us!” arabella spoke dramatically, and you rolled your eyes; no argument because you figured she was right.
however she wasn’t, because lando was still listening. and his interest had suddenly spiked.
“i am not… stuck in a sex drought,” you huffed; not sounding one bit convincing as you glanced at the pool. “men just suck. i’ve given up on having an orgasm.” your words were dramatic, and playful, but still a bit of truth to them.
suddenly lando felt guilty for overhearing, or purposefully listening, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued.
your words made no sense to him; considering nights with you would always lead to multiple orgasms for both of you.
and it wasn’t as if you were short on options.
“gotta do everything yourself these days,” arabella sighed out dramtically in agreement; but she had a boyfriend, and your friendship with the girl wasn’t one for many secrets; you knew she was only ‘relating’ out of sympathy.
truth was; since lando, nothing or no one could compare. not even your own damn fingers.
“can’t even get myself off.” you huffed out almost ashamed, and you only whined when you met arabella’s shocked eyes and slack jaw.
lando suddenly felt intrusive, and flustered from the idea of you touching yourself; one he’d grown familiar with due to long distance. suddenly he was standing and ready to walk himself inside in his room.
“is your body like… broken?” arabella sounded bewildered, and you could only huff.
you’d blame it on stress, or any of your medication if it was possible; you’ve heard stories, knew there could be many reasons as to why your sex drive and urges have suddenly changed. none aligned with your circumstances however.
“just deprived i think,” you sighed.
lando needed to get his mind off your sexual need’s immediately, deciding to go on a run with max to occupy himself. to get you off his mind.
and it worked, until he got back to the villa. hot and out of breath, he found himself in the kitchen ━ pouring a glass of water with ice, eyes wandering out the fold out doors that exposed the luxurious back yard. decking, sun lounges, a pool; and his closest friends.
and his ex girlfriend. in a little bikini. with another man’s hands on her.
he couldn’t help but scoff at the sight, you resting on your stomach as nicolas rubbed sunscreen into your back ━ watching as you grinned and spoke up to him momentarily. you were flirting, he knew that look.
his takeaways from his… eavesdropping, was that you didn’t plan to pursue nicolas. so what the fuck was this?
he wanted to laugh, you were going to seek answers to your problems in nicolas? he almost felt offended; if you needed good sex so badly he felt as if he was the obvious candidate.
“careful mate, you’re staring,” max’s words snapped lando out of his thoughts; causing him to glare at the man quickly, bringing his glass to his lips, unaware that his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.
max’s amusement only escalated, eyebrows raising as he chuckled quietly.
“i wasn’t.” lando murmured, leaning back against the counter. “just didn’t know that was a thing,” he tried to shrug off; eyes returning to where you now sat up, rubbing sunscreen into nicolas’s back now.
had he been oblivious to the pair of you?
“i don’t think it is.” max shrugged, following lando’s gaze momentarily, not overanalysing the sight. everyone was friends here.
lando looked to max in doubt, to check if he was being serious.
“does it matter if it is?” max questioned, sassily too, almost a challenge; and lando was quick to scoff ━ mustering up the best chuckle he could to appear as unbothered as he wanted to be.
“no,” the mclaren driver answered almost too quickly, clearing his throat slightly. “i hope it is. would be a good match,” he overcompensated; left to only flip max off as he chuckled and hummed unconvincingly.
“whatever you say,” max mused.
lando wished he was being honest, but as time passed by it became quite clear he was lying.
dinner that night you were sat at opposite ends of the long table, like usual; regardless, lando’s eyes were trained on you for the majority of the night.
you and nicolas of course. who’d snagged the seat next to you.
forced to watch as you shared food, laughed and chattered away in your own little world.
lando felt sick from the sight; that used to be him. should be him. and while he could only blame himself for it not being him, it was a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.
he felt utterly helpless however, because there was nothing he could do.
he couldn’t even express his dismay to anyone as he watched nicolas help you in the car. left to watch as you both giggled and stumbled up to the villa ahead of the group.
he wanted to intervene, to make his presence known to hopefully at least make it awkward. but he couldn’t bring himself too.
not when you’d been such an angel in the breakup, made things so easy for him from the start of the relationship to now. it just wouldn’t be fair to ruin this for you.
even though it was all he wanted to do.
he noted how you two were first off to go ‘sleep’ that night, halfway through the movie that had been put on. and he suddenly wished he’d downed a few more glasses of red at the restaurant, maybe then he wouldn’t have the capacity to brainstorm up everything and anything you and nicolas could be doing tonight.
he wasn’t going to say it was what kept him up, tossing and turning and unable to fall asleep; but it definitely played on his mind.
it was starting to make sense to him at least; he hadn’t been around you without distractions since the breakup. it suddenly became clear how helpful those distractions are.
3:42 the clock read.
lando hadn’t gotten a second of shut eye, and after two hours of laying there; he conceded. deciding to get a glass of water as if that would be the solution to all his problems.
instead he was just met with the problem itself; you.
surprise, surprise. nicolas was not the answer to your prayers.
you were already keen to tell arabella ‘i told you so’ when you returned to your room. having spent the night in nicolas’.
he was a nice guy, until the clothes came off.
it was nothing new, you on top; he came. you didn’t. he then tried to get you to finish with his fingers, and you faked an orgasm when it became clear he wasn’t finding your clit any time soon.
your frustrations had now multiplied, it felt pathetic. you were ready to give up.
you snuck out the moment he fell asleep, in the kitchen to get a glass of water and for a few moments to yourself.
“shouldn’t be surprised you’re up,” lando made his presence known, having debated running back to his room when he noticed you occupying the kitchen.
typical.
“needed a drink,” you hummed sheepishly; and for some reason when your eyes met his you felt intimidated; as if you needed refuge, turning back around to the fridge to fill your cup up with ice.
maybe it was because you were already sexually frustrated. or the fact you were stood with your ex boyfriend after sneaking out of another guys room.
“same,” lando hummed; moving behind you to grab a glass for himself, and you could feel him waiting behind you as you poured water into the glass.
“nice night?” lando asked when you moved aside so he too could fill his glass, not looking at you for the time being so you wouldn’t decipher the motives in the question. he didn’t need you to know how concerned he was with your night.
you nodded quickly, humming as you still had a mouth full of water, leaning against the counter now.
“yeah, yeah,” you spoke; pursing your lips. it had been. until it wasn’t. “restaurant was lovely,” you smiled; shifting on your feet slightly as you took in his appearance, even in the dull lightly.
his messy curls that look slept on, slightly tired eyes. he looked cozy.
lando nodded, so much on the tip of his tongue. maybe if it was a different hour of the day he’d have the common sense to not speak his mind, but he was slightly sleep deprived and going insane from his own thoughts.
“you know my balcony is above yours,” lando told you; randomly, your eyebrows furrowing ━ coughing out a slight laugh. you weren’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, your guess was awkward silence. not him blurting out something… irrelevant.
it took a few moments for it to dawn on you, the slight curve of lando’s lips into a smirk causing your eyes to widen in realisation.
you’d only been out on the balcony once today.
“oh my god,” you mumbled; cringing as he chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. “shut up!” you whisper yelled, leaning forward to whack his arm, which only had him laughing once more as his hands flew up in defence.
“i wasn’t eavesdropping! i swear,” lando mused, shaking his head as your eyebrows raised.
“great, so you just happened to hear all about my sad sex life,” you huffed, and lando couldn’t help the small smile that was refusing to leave his lips; always having adored the sight of you flustered and sheepish.
it didn’t help, the sight of you wearing what seemed to be just an oversized shirt. reminiscent of how his shirts would drape over your body.
“yeah,” lando confirmed sympathetically, causing you to whack him again; no force in your actions as you groaned audibly.
you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather not hear that conversation; ever so grateful you hadn’t been completely honest with arabella.
you would die of humiliation if you’d told her how you compared every man to lando, how you found no one was able to make you feel anywhere near as good.
but regardless, there was a level of comfort. you trusted the man in front of you.
“nicolas though hm?” lando spoke light heartedly, reminding you of the man you’d just been in bed with.
was it bad he’d slipped your mind completely? having forgotten that he was who sparked such conversation this morning.
“did he make you cum?” his follow up question had you dumbfounded, having not expected such blunt words as your lips parted. “can i ask that?” lando added with a reassuring laugh. but you knew that look in his eyes.
they were darker than usual, he was staring at you intently; practically begging you to step closer.
“no,” you cleared your throat, opting for honesty. “he didn’t.” you huffed, eyes avoiding his for a moment as if you were ashamed. as if it was your fault.
the relief lando felt was pathetic, not that he wished a bad time upon you. or anyone for that matter. but god it felt like the door had been swung right open for him.
he was right; of course nicolas wasn’t going to do it for you.
“i know you can make yourself cum.” lando chimed, pushing himself off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you; ridding any distance as he stood in front of you. “used to be able to at least, seen it myself,” he told you as if you could forget.
you swallowed intently, the tension now almost suffocating. sleeping with an ex was something you swore against; recipe for disaster. but it seemed awfully appealing when it looked like lando did right now.
your cheeks were pink, thinking about the countless times you’d gotten yourself off on facetime calls with the driver, purely because neither of you could wait any longer to see one another again.
“not the same anymore.” your voice was barely above a whisper, it didn’t need to be; not when he was only centimetres away, looking down at you as if he was ready to ravish you.
lando’s eyebrow raised at that, eyes flickering across your face.
it wasn’t the same, you’d worked out the hard way. you only relied on your own devices when you had no other choice; and with that would be lando on the of phone with words of encouragement and direction.
“what, need me to talk you through it again?” his words were teasing as his hand moved to cup your cheek; your stomach turning at the thought. at the fact he seemed like he knew that would do it for you.
you let out a slight breath, shaking your head but you held little confidence in doing so.
“need me to touch you?” he added on, offer sounding almost like a request; words so hushed you could’ve missed them. but you didn’t, you heard him loud and clear.
his eyes were pouring into yours as if he pitied you, but the smirk on his face showed he wanted nothing more than to be the one to solve your problems.
you didn’t even need to think about it, no ifs or buts entering your mind; nothing could make the idea of him seem unappealing.
“please,” you mumbled; eyes pouring up into his, watching as a wicked grin spread on his features; one that made your knees weak.
it was all lando needed to hear, lips pressing against yours in an instant; it coming back to the pair of you quickly. feeling so natural, the way your body melted into his touch; the way your lips moved against each other.
your hands finding a grip on his shirt as his spread across your hips.
lando didn’t waste any time; he wanted to make you cum.
he wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like a challenge, or because he missed you; but god did he want nothing more than to make you feel good:
his knee pushed between your thighs first, your legs spreading; immediately aware of the finger he was tracing up your inner thigh.
as much as lando missed the feeling of your lips against his, he loved watching you react to every touch and feeling. pulling away but not creating much distance as his fingers brushed over your clothed folds.
you took a sharp breath, shifting your weight to lean against the counter as the anticipation built within, eyes locked on his as he teasingly brushed your clothed clit as well.
he could feel your soaked panties, a wet patch that you knew wasn’t there when you first entered the kitchen.
“you know it doesn’t make sense,” lando started speaking through a breath; his fingers pushing your panties aside with ease, swiping through your folds; spreading your wetness to your clit. “because you’re always so easy for me baby,” he practically cooed as he slipped two fingers inside you.
your jaw fell slack, hips pushing against his hand lightly as you whimpered; cheeks hinting at his taunting words which you’d almost forgotten about and how crazy they drove you.
his free hand returned to your cheek, cupping the side of your face and adjusting your head to ensure you were looking up at him; his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazed down at you.
“so responsive,” he added in a hum; looking incredibly smug, thumb settling on your clit ━ and the moan that escaped you as he circled your sensitive bud had lando’s jaw clenching. he’d missed your pretty sounds.
he was toying with you, teasing. his fingers moving slowly, thumb only lightly circling your clit. yet you hadn’t felt this good in fucking forever, face contorting in pleasure proving such thing.
lando could get lost in the sight, not able to help himself from wanting to give you more.
his fingers gradually picked up the pace, thumb applying more pressure now; but it was when he curled his fingers, grazing that spot he never failed to miss, that you hadn’t been able to find, that a slightly louder moan escaped you.
“ah, ah,” lando hushed you; tapping your cheek lightly. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando hummed through heavy breaths, hating that he had to ask such thing of you.
he wanted to hear you lose control, hear you scream his name like you had countless of times. but he’d hate to be interrupted and have the current sight cut short.
you whined quietly at the request, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep any noise at bay; knowing you had no choice. waking anyone up would be less than ideal.
but somehow, the thought of being caught was the least of your concerns.
your back arched when he added a third, thumb still expertly playing with your clit; your quiet whimpers and moans were growing in volume once more.
lando took matters into his own hands, the hand cupping your cheek shifting so he could tap his pointer finger on your bottom lip; and he had to shut himself up this time as you invited two digits past your lips without second thought.
“fuck,” he mumbled out; eyes fixated on the way you looked up at him with his fingers in your mouth; so similar to the sight of when you’d suck him off. his hard on was almost painful.
your moans were muffled now, thankfully, as your hips pushed forward once more; slowly losing control over your body as the pleasure continued to build.
you’d made a mess on your thighs, his fingers working in and out of you perfectly; beginning to curl his fingers repeatedly had your eyes rolling back.
“yeah, right there baby?” lando mumbled; despite you unable to respond. “gonna make a mess on my fingers yeah? think you deserve to cum,” he smirked ━ and if you could’ve you would’ve cried out, nodding quickly at his words.
your stomach tightened, it was sudden; more sudden than you remembered, lando having caught on to the fact you were cumming before you did; squeezing his fingers as you came undone.
his body was practically holding you up against the counter, vision going white for a moment as your muffled moans filled the air, hips bucking involuntarily once more.
lando wanted to curse himself for ever depriving himself of such thing, watching as you shook in front of him; fingers moving to let you ride out your high, until he was pulling them from your panties, and mouth respectively.
your eyes fluttered open, nothing but awe as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes; panting ever so lightly.
he was smiling cockily, if he didn’t know the root of your issue before, he did now. the way you needed him.
you couldn’t even crush his inflating ego, not when he’d made you cum so hard in a matter of minutes; giving you what you’d been chasing the past few months.
he was about to kiss you again, after moments of admiring your face; but the sound of a door shutting had the moment ruined, reminding both you and him of where you are and what you’re meant to be.
definitely not meant to be caught having a moment at 4 in the morning.
lando was quick in taking a few large strides across the kitchen, positioning himself on the other side of the island as you quickly tugged your shirt down and ran your hand through your hair.
when pietra walked in, it was an innocent sight. plenty of distance between the pair of you, not enough lights on to expose your flushed cheeks or lando’s glistening fingers.
you pretended to be surprised as you brought your glass to your lips, leaning against the counter because your legs were still shaky, lando nodding towards the blonde.
“can’t sleep?” lando hummed in question.
“need to fill my water up.” pietra nodded with a smile, eyes flickering between you in suspicion for a brief moment as she realised this was almost an awkward thing to walk in on. you and him.
if only she knew.
you nodded in agreement, raising your glass of water as lando let out a small chuckle.
“if you need a late night snack, the donuts are great,” lando spoke again; your eyes falling onto him, and you were sure your face was bright red as you watched him bring his fingers to his lips; licking them clean.
you coughed on air, playing it off as if your water went down the wrong way; pietra oblivious as she nodded with a smile.
“i’ll keep that in mind.”
the smirk he’d sent you was sickening, and with that he was saying good night and excusing himself.
lando ended up needing a cold shower that night, with his own hand and images of you burned into his mind.
you were hoping your head would be clear when you woke up, but it was only more scrambled.
you’d gotten what you wanted, was it greedy to only want more?
“good night?” arabella had questioned you, sitting next to you on the long dining table; bowls of cereal in front of pair of you; and the smirk on her face was quite telling.
except she didn’t know the half of it.
“yeah, yeah it was good,” you hummed; eyes shifting to the other end of the table; where lando sat, already staring at you. the mischievous glint in his eye had you looking away quickly, the sly smirk not helping you in trying to play it cool to arabella.
you knew he was listening.
“did your… problem get solved?” arabella attempted to ask without outing you, so oblivious to the fact lando could easily piece together her words.
your eyes narrowed towards her, as if to say ‘shut up.’ which she only looked back at you with wide eyes, finding herself quite discrete.
“well?” arabella pushed, whisper yelling.
“yes,” you huffed; in hopes she would shut up, you could feel lando’s eyes burning into you. the man who solved your problem, unbeknownst to arabella who thought it was nicolas who was responsible.
“ah! how exciting,” arabella grinned; standing up and taking her bowel to the kitchen, only then did you let your eyes fall back on the british driver.
who looked oh so amused, you had to flee; following in the girls steps.
it set the tone for the next few days; longing looks, tempting smirks and lingering touches.
you couldn’t bring yourself to go out of your way and seek more of him; despite how much you wanted it. nicolas had been forgotten about, failing to explain your sudden interest and now lack of in the guy.
lando was all you could think about. how couldn’t you? he’d fingered you in the kitchen, bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm you’d been craving; one you hadn’t experienced since him. and once again, it had gone unaddressed.
the tension was clear; you got peace from the fact he was in the same boat as you.
you hated that he’d walked off so smug that night and you yourself had nothing to brag about, left to accept the fact that you needed him. had missed him.
and he knew it.
so maybe you were tactical, every day the dresses got shorter. bikini’s got smaller. you wanted to see him squirm.
which was easy.
it was ridiculous, how often you felt his gaze burning into you; feeling the heat on your skin from such thing. you’d blame the hot summer sun for the the constant blush on your cheeks but in reality it was him.
made to feel better by the way his jaw was constantly clenched. hands fiddling with one another. leg bouncing impatiently because he was furious with the fact you were no longer his, he couldn’t whisk you away and tear your clothes off like he wanted too.
left to simply stare. dwell on the facts. wish that he somehow gets a moment alone with you again.
there were sliding doors.
two minutes alone underneath the cabin on a boat, both trying to find something to drink. he swore you were about to kiss him before max came bouncing down the stairs.
you’d all gone out one night, somehow it was only you two left at the bar. lando was convinced this was it, he was going to drag you off to the bathroom.
but then arabella appeared, demanding shots.
you’d never admit that you went out to the kitchen most nights, hoping he too would be awake at such ridiculous hour again.
you tried not to get frustrated, even with the knowledge there was only a couple days till you’d be flying back home to reality.
finally however, you got lucky.
lando had gone on a run; unbeknownst to you, who had slept in.
you rejected plans of going to a winery, choosing for a day by the pool to save energy to go out tonight like planned.
your group of friends had attempted to protest your decision, but you insisted. bribed them with a promise you would do some baking while they were out.
that’s where lando found you.
stood in the kitchen. of course.
tiny bikini. typical.
and no one else in sight. lovely.
“smells fucking amazing.” lando hummed; slightly breathless as he sauntered into the kitchen, moving to stand against the island ━ a safe distance between the pair of you.
the voice had startled you, jumping slightly as you turned around.
you smiled appreciatively at his words, attempting to not stare at his exposed torso. tanned skin, beads of sweat decorating it. his muscles only more prominent as he crossed his arms, flexing invitingly.
“would feel bad letting such a big kitchen go to waste,” you explained; shrugging ever so slightly as your eyes returned to the chocolate chip cookies you were currently making. refuge from the sight of him.
he chuckled, and nodded; not that you saw. but his eyes didn’t leave you.
he should go up to his room.
“who’s home?” he couldn’t help but ask, feet planted. he wasn’t going anywhere.
the question had you facing what you were trying to ignore; the fact it was just the pair of you. it was dangerous knowledge.
“just us,” you spoke through a breath. if the tension wasn’t clear before, those two words had it falling upon the pair of you like bricks.
lando nodded once more, lips pursing. you were so tempting. this was what he’d been hoping for. he was impressed he even had the mental strength to consider running off. hiding in his room till your friends returned.
that idea didn’t last long though. moving towards you, you heard him approaching; his presence was demanding.
he was behind you, causing you to freeze. breath stuck in your throat.
“you’re driving me crazy.” he’d whispered, despite no fear of anyone overhearing; and you had to shut your eyes for a brief moment when his lips grazed your ear, ensuring you knew just how in reach he was.
you found some solace in his words, confirming your suspicions. reassuring to know you weren’t the only one going crazy. the only one feeling nostalgic.
“how so?” you played dumb, bottom lip rolling through your teeth ━ regardless your head tilted aside as his lips grazed your skin again, his breath fanning your skin.
you heard him grunt, and it would’ve made you giggle if you weren’t fighting off the urge to jump his bones.
“don’t act like it’s not on purpose.” lando huffed, hands moving to play with the fiddling strings of your bikini, fingertips only just brushing your skin.
you had to draw in another breath, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. you needed some sort of power, just a physical reminder that he too was struggling despite his admission.
so you turned on your feet, eyes flickering up to his as you shrugged your shoulders; breaths slightly irregular from the closeness. right in front of you. trapping you against the counter.
“know you haven’t forgotten that all you need to do is use your words if you want me to fuck you,” lando spoke before you could, oozing cockiness despite his wandering eyes and tense jaw; his patience wearing thin.
once more you were cornered in the kitchen by his attractive frame and blunt words that had your thighs squeezing together.
“goes both ways,” you chimed; worried if you didn’t speak now you wouldn’t get a word in. you knew how this went; it was only a matter of time till you were a mess in his hands.
his eyebrows raised, he even scoffed; if he wasn’t so eager for you to go on he would’ve reminded you it didn’t.
lando always had a kink for making you beg.
“i already got what i wanted,” you hummed; hands moving to rest on his toned abdomen, running down and across the muscles before finding the waistband of his joggers. “something you want?”
your teasing tone had lando remembering just how worked up you got him, how frustrating and almost annoying you were. how annoying it was to deal with your antics that was.
“the other night was more than enough for me baby,” lando mused; not cracking, even with your hands on his body. “always look so pretty when you cum.”
you wish his words didn’t have such a visible effect on you. how flustered you got clear by the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, even while you stood here playing with the waistband of his pants.
it was pathetic; neither of you wanting to crack first, wasting precious time because you both really thought you were above this.
able to be friends. exes who wouldn’t go back to each other.
you knew he wasn’t entirely lying; of course you could remember how you were gifted a man who got off from getting you off. how he’d spent nights with his head just buried between your thighs. making you cum countless of times before he got his dick wet.
“cold shower treat you well?” you huffed; not letting him get away with such thing. as if he wasn’t standing here with the need to fuck you.
he smirked at your words, your attitude more so; the playful banter having been something he’d missed. something that wasn’t the same since things became platonic.
“did the job.” he laughed, hands still ghosting over your hips. “jealous i can still get myself off?” he couldn’t help but chuckle; and your jaw dropped at him using confidential information against you.
your hands still on his stomach, whacking lightly which he only chuckled harder at; and if you weren’t embarrassed you’d be taking in the way the smile was lighting up his face.
“that was not something you’re meant to use against me,” you practically grumbled; eyes narrowing up at him and he practically awed at the sight, adoring eyes and all as his hand moved to cup your cheek. his grin not matching the sympathetic eyes.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled jokingly as he leant forward; not giving you time to reply as he put the both of you out of your misery, lips connecting with yours.
it wasn’t what you’d both expected, the kiss to finally ease the tension that had been building ever since a few nights ago in the same spot; the kiss was slow. passionate and deep, but not rushed.
it didn’t last long; but was nice in the moment however. to feel him.
the urge to feel more however was soon too prominent.
your hands that had linked behind his neck soon tangled in his hair. the grip he had on your waist soon moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh within his hold which had you leaning into him.
he lazily dragged you back with him, his back hitting the kitchen island as he practically held you against his body; lips moving in sync.
you felt his hard on with the movement, contained by his joggers; your own excitement jumping as your hands left his hair to snake down between your bodies; palming him.
the groan against your lips only motivated you; and while you wish you could do what he does, stand here and tease him; you were too keen to get your hands on him. to hear more of those pretty sounds he makes.
so you simply smiled up at him as you pulled away; bending down and settling on your knees; hands tugging his pants and underwear down with you; revealing his cock.
his breaths were a lot heavier as he watched you, leaning back against the counter ever so slightly, gaze fixed downwards as a small smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth.
he hissed as your small hand wrapped around him; thumb swirling the precum ━ you loving every bit of knowing how turned you got him from just a few words and the sight of you.
he wouldn’t ever deny it either; no one did it for him like you did.
“look so pretty on your knees,” lando praised; eager to gain back some control, despite knowing he’d do anything you asked of him right now; your hand feeling much than his did the other night.
you were eager to continue to please, so you didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth. it was as if he knew such thing, by the way his eyes were peering down at you.
his head fell back at the sensation, one he’d missed ━ arms flexing as he gripped the counter; a few curses strung together tumbling from his lips as you practically took him in whole first go.
his tip hitting the back of your throat did little to deter you. it was natural, as if you’d done such thing only a few days ago; not months ━ second nature as your tongue swirled his cock.
your eyes remained up, looking through your lashes as your head bobbed ━ knees uncomfortably shifting against the tiles but it was the last thing on your mind with the beautiful man above you.
taking in the way his abs flexed, neck strained and lips parted as you sucked him off ━ gagging occasionally but both of you knew that was no issue.
“missed this fucking mouth,” lando grunted, hand moving to tangle in your hair; both to keep it out of your way and to just have some sort of hold on you.
he was blindsided with pleasure, more than he remembered he’d be. your bikini did little to leave much to the imagination from his angle, watching as your breasts bounced with every movement. matched with your doe eyes, his jaw was slack.
you hummed as he tugged your hair lightly, the sensation one you always welcomed; and he too was reminded of such as he felt the vibrations around him. tugging again with a little more force.
his groans were gradually becoming more regular, hips bucking once or twice ━ pushing his cock further down your throat each time.
“just like that baby, always so good for me,” lando breathed, eyes screwing such momentarily as his head fell back once more.
you almost whined at the vision, wanting to scramble to your feet and kiss at his skin, feel all over him.
and he’d be happy to let you, he was hesitant in having you get him off first regardless; you hadn’t left much room for argument with good reason.
but right now he had no complaints, moans growing slightly louder in volume ━ grip tightening on the strands of your hair. he didn’t give you any warning as he came, but you didn’t need any.
the way he twitched in your mouth, you didn’t miss a beat ━ swallowing all you could; revelling in the way your name left his lips.
your mouth left him with a pop, gazing up at him to meet his adoring eyes, staring down at you as if you were the greatest thing to grace the earth.
because he did think of you as such. you continued to amaze him, he didn’t grow immune to such thing; just had managed to avoid the fact for a while now.
you stood to your feet, relieving your knees of the discomfort; a coy smile plastered on your lips at him panting and flustered.
you felt even, for the other night; reassured you weren’t the only one in need.
lando couldn’t complain either, couldn’t throw a playful comment towards you ━ not when you stood there with messy hair and swollen lips. all he could think about was turning you into a whiny mess, desperate to have you at his mercy again.
it was clear neither of you knew what to say in the few moments of silence; shamelessly admiring the other, catching your breaths. it wasn’t awkward however.
you were happy to feel his lips on yours once more ━ his hands not shy in wandering your body this time, sliding down to your thighs and hoisting you up immediately.
he was swift in turning around and placing you on the counter, stood between your legs as he hummed against your lips.
it wasn’t until his mouth ducked to your neck, then your collar bones, becoming harder to ignore as your head fell back, growing hot from the kisses he placed where-ever he could, that you spoke up.
“should go to your room,” you managed to get out, watching him through hooded eyes as he simply grabbed the material of your bikini to let your breasts fall free, kissing at the skin of them afterwards.
it wasn’t that you were worried on being walked in on, you had the house to yourselves for at least a couple more hours. you knew that. more so just the knowledge this wasn’t your house.
his eyebrows raised as he looked back up at you, hand sprawling over your stomach as he pushed you back slightly; your body blindly following the suggestion as you leant back on your hands.
“i paid for this villa baby, if i wanna fuck you on the counter i will,” lando murmured, hands spreading your thighs further apart; putting you in no position to argue you.
how could you? his words sounded like a promise, one you could only hope he would keep.
you nodded pathetically, suddenly aware of his hands resting high up on your inner thighs; suddenly aware of your own arousal and need for him.
he discarded of your bikini bottoms with ease, admiring your frame for a few moments as his hand reached to squeeze your breast, nipple rolling through his fingers moments later.
“lando,” you breathed; almost in warning, almost a whine. your legs were still spread and you were already resisting the urge to squirm. your patience non existent.
he only grinned, a slight chuckle maybe as his hands pushed your legs further apart once more.
“i got you baby,” lando hummed. “always so needy for me, you need me yeah? don’t you?” he spoke teasingly, tone painfully sweet as his fingers traced over your soaked folds.
you wanted to curse his obvious teasing, point out how you hadn’t been so cruel. but you knew it’d be no use.
you were scared to admit such thing, huffing as your hips bucked upwards momentarily.
“want to hear you say it.” lando grunted when he realised you weren’t planning on speaking; pinching your clit to get his point across, a strangled moan escaping you as your lips parted, falling into submission.
“need you.” you whined almost shamefully, head falling back as if the ceiling would offer you refuge from his hard stare. “please,”
your pleas were always music to his ears, so much so he debated with the idea of teasing you some more; to draw more whines and please out of you. but the way you were spread for him, so ready; he couldn’t help himself any longer.
you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud; not expecting such feeling as your eyes rolled back.
his hands manoeuvred your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders; giving him full access to your core as sweet moans started to escape you.
“o-oh my god,” you whimpered; eyes flickering to the sight of his head between your thighs ━ back arching as his tongue swiped through your folds, assaulting your cunt relentlessly as if he was starved.
you’d been reminded of how good his fingers were; so much so you hadn’t even considered getting his tongue again.
his large hands were squeezing your thighs, a bruising grip to keep you in place; eating you out expertly.
“lando━ feels so good,” you moaned as if that wasn’t clear by the way your hips were pushing against his hold. your right hand left the counter, moving to tangle in his curls, something to grab.
his blue eyes ventured to the sight of you momentarily, and he groaned into your cunt as he took note of the way your face was contorting in pleasure, how your body flinched with every move he made.
whimpers and moans were free falling, lando enjoying every single one ━ glad you could be as loud as you wanted, as loud as he made you.
you knew you were approaching your high shamefully fast, but had little room to care when you’d failed to reach it so much recently.
lando knew your body too well, could tell by the way you were tugging on his curls and creating more force against the hold he had on your thighs that you were about to cum.
he wanted you to let go, tongue flicking and nose bumping your clit ━ you orgasmed hard, suddenly; cumming on his tongue with what almost sounded like a squeal.
he didn’t stop, letting you ride out your high ━ before pulling away, wiping at the corners of his mouth.
you were mistaken however in thinking you would have time to catch your breath, not getting a word out before lando was moving only one leg off his shoulder and sliding two fingers into your entrance suddenly; thumb landing on your sensitive clit.
your body almost didn’t know how to react, falling back onto your hands that found the counter you sat upon once more to stabilise yourself.
“s’ too much,” you whimpered ━ legs attempting to squeeze shut, failing with the angle caused by one leg draped over lando’s shoulder, which allowed his fingers to hit deep within you.
lando hummed in amusement, knowing how much you could take. knowing you always said that, just to whine and cry out if he were to stop.
“too much?” he mocked; fingers curling and your body jerking. “want me to stop?” he breathed; smirking oh so cockily because he knew the answer. chuckling as you shook your head ‘no’ incredibly quickly.
“didn’t think so,” he huffed; thumb speeding up on your clit, rolling over the bud continuously. it was pure ecstasy, the overstimulation overwhelming your entire body.
his breaths were heavy as he admired you, the way you were shaking beneath him. reminiscent of how easily he could you like this, of the nights he made you cum four or five times before fucking you.
it killed him he didn’t have the time to do so again. but he couldn’t possibly complain right now.
“making a mess baby, all over my fingers,” lando spoke; the filthy sounds of his fingers moving in out of you filling the room, and you weren’t sure you’d last much longer when he entered a third. “so greedy. gonna cum again aren’t you?”
it was like he was three steps ahead of your body, leaving you to whine and nod pathetically.
“yeah? that what you want? to cum again?” lando spoke once more; watching as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut and it satisfied him to see you feel the pleasure he was giving.
he was hard again, purely from his name sounding so fucking incredible as you moaned and moaned, from the perfection you were.
his hand grasping your cheek had your eyes flying open as lando tilted your head forwards to look at him, eyebrows raised in expectance.
“words pretty girl,” lando reminded, chin still between his thumb and index finger ━ struggling to focus on him with the numbing pleasure that was causing tears to form.
you nodded, before processing what he’d said. words. right.
“please lando,” you gasped; eyes pouring into his, pleading with his as your back arched and legs shook. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself. “gonna cum,” you whined.
lando felt it had been far too long to be cruel, so he simply hummed in appreciation; smiling lazily as he pushed you over the edge as he curled his fingers once more.
your vision went white, screaming his name as you came again, all over his fingers.
lando’s bottom lip rolled through his teeth at the sight, able to take in every moment, no restraint for either of you and it felt fucking amazing.
his hands gently moved your leg off his shoulder, stood between them as his hands massaged your thighs comfortingly, giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath.
your eyes fluttered open, and immediately you were smiling stupidly at the sight of lando; his own grin mirroring yours as he hummed quietly.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered; unable to stop the compliment from escaping him, and your smile only grew; knowing you’d disagree if you caught sight of your tangled hair and flushed cheeks. 
it had your stomach flipping, men compliment you all the time. only lando would gain such a reaction.
“got another one in you?” his question was gentle; the sparkle in his eye daring, and you had no hesitation in nodding.
“need you inside me,” you mumbled, causing the driver’s smirk to return to its rightful place ━ glad your wants were shared.
you may have gone a long time without, but your stamina hadn’t faulted.
lando was tugging you to the edge of the counter at that, and you easily got lost in the kiss that he placed upon your lips; rough and messy as you melted into his hold.
it’d caught you by surprise, when he tugged you down onto your feet, spun your round and bent you over the marble surface; a gasp escaping you.
“missed you so much,” lando sighed; ushering your legs apart as your breath hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to focus on, his words, your position or the feeling of his hands on your ass.
the confession wasn’t one you’d hold onto, you knew better than to cling to words uttered during sex. but god it felt great to hear.
“missed you too,” you assured him back, moan slipping past your lips as you felt his tip press against your folds; but he made no further movements.
your hips shook slightly, attempting to entice him ━ so needy despite having cum twice already. you just wanted him. all of him.
his hand moved up your back, tangling in your hair and creating a makeshift pony tail ━ one he tugged on immediately, your head snapping up.
“what did i say earlier? about using your words?” lando leant forward, lips grazing your ear; cock pressed against your entrance, causing you to cry out.
your body was overstimulated, tired; tired of his teasing. out of practice to predict his wants.
“want you to fuck me,” you whined quickly, rushing your words out as your hips pressed backwards. “need you lan, please,” you whimpered; sounding oh so desperate lando couldn’t possibly deny you.
he entered you without any more warning, bottoming out as your walls wrapped around him; your gasps intertwining as you gripped the counter below you.
the cool surface against your front did little to cool you down, moaning at the feeling of being so full. full of him again, after so long.
too long.
“always take me so well,” lando grunted in your ear; giving you a few moments to adjust before he was dropping your hair and standing up straight ━ hands finding your hips now.
his thrusts were harsh, rough and deep; not too slow or too fast, ensuring you felt every inch of him as your aching cunt squeezed him.
every move had your body jolting, moans escaping you; the counter and lando the only reason your legs were able to stay upright.
“so-so good,” you stumbled out, eyes rolling back as your body fell limp, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling. what you’d been deprived of and craving.
the driver too was losing himself in the feeling, head thrown back as he moved in and out of you ━ sounds of skin slapping filling up the large and empty space.
it was a mutual feeling, as to why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. how on earth you two had been in such close proximity throughout the months and not gotten to this point yet.
safe to say keeping your distance now would be difficult.
lando felt the need to be closer, as if he needed more of you despite having you already at his mercy.
his hand found your neck with ease, wrapping around your throat and guiding your head up ━ causing you to stand up right, back against his chest.
he didn’t apply pressure, yet, but just the feeling of his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck had your legs feeling weaker; split open on his cock meaning lando’s body was the only thing holding you up now.
“feel good?” lando’s question was just him chasing praise, knowing you were fucked stupid; but he couldn’t help but want to remind you just who was the reason you could barely form sentences.
you nodded as much as you could in his hold. always nodding, he could ask or say anything and you’d find a way to say yes.
“only i can make you feel this good hm? only i can make you cum?” lando didn’t stop running his mouth, basking in the fact it was him that had the tears spilling out of your eyes. a sense of pride washing over him.
you choked out a yes, his thrusts having only gotten faster ━ and when his hand applied pressure to your neck you were almost certain you were in heaven.
“so perfect, so fucking perfect for me baby,” lando grunted in praise; and the kiss he pressed to your shoulder blade was a vast contrast to the treatment of your cunt.
it really was too much, the few tears and whimpers made that clear to lando; you were only moments away from cumming again and the thought alone had his own high dawning on him.
“come on angel, cum on my cock. cum for me,” he was speaking in your ear again; and you practically screamed as your third orgasm hit ━ body falling limp in his hold.
the way your walls squeezed him had him cumming with you, groaning as his forehead rested on your shoulder ━ erratic breaths filling the room as he stilled inside you.
all his touches were suddenly delicate, pulling out of you as he moved you to lean against the counter, still holding you up slightly as you caught your breath.
it was a comfortable silence, his hands ghosting over your waist as you pressed your eyes shut for a few moments.
you’d expected some sort of regret. an immediate now what? for one of you to panic or flee.
but instead, neither of you wanted the moment to end.
“want to join me for a shower?” lando broke the silence, a half smile that had you feeling an odd sense of relief.
one he felt too when you smiled right back, and nodded in agreement.
he’d chuckled, you would even go as far as to say he was grinning; hands grasping your thighs and picking you up with ease, carrying you off towards the bathroom.
when your friends returned you had been on the sofa, lando out by the pool ━ strategically placed to avoid suspicion, already under the assumption someone would’ve brought up the fact it happened to be you two who stayed back today.
chatter filled the room immediately, lando trudging in to greet everyone. you having stayed seated, purely because you didn’t trust your legs.
“burnt cookies y/n?” max had spoke across the room; having been first to stumble upon the overdone batch sat on the kitchen island you’d spent the last 15 minutes sanitising.
your cheeks flushed, purely because you could sense lando’s eyes burning into you.
you could picture the cocky smirk plastered on his face.
“yeah. my bad,” you laughed sheepishly.
and you were glad to be the only one paying attention when lando passed the back of the couch, finger grazing your shoulder as he did so.
“my bad,” he corrected; your eyes meeting his smug ones in passing.
━━
a/n: did y’all miss my shitty endings???
anyways idk what this is but here it is
unedited atm so apologies xox
as always appreciate feedback so so much, love u all and hope u enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
i love the angst!
like what would charles and y/n do when they fight> headcannon form thanks!
charles leclerc x fem!reader - when they're angry at eachother
message from anon - Hi! Can you change it to - what would charles and y/n do to take care of eachother when they fight.
Y/N picks up Charles' favorite takeout even though he's being a grumpy git about the whole fight, leaving it on the counter with a silent "don't starve yourself" note.
Charles makes sure to leave the coffee pot full despite their argument, knowing a good night's sleep after a fight is out of the question.
In the midst of their cold war, Y/N remembers Charles hates showering with cold water and adjusts the thermostat before he gets in.
Charles, despite being fuming, remembers Y/N's forgotten project deadline and discreetly reminds a colleague to forward her the missing data.
Y/N, while stewing, notices Charles hasn't packed his lucky socks and throws them in his bag with a glare that says "don't mess up without them."
Charles, after a particularly heated exchange, sets the alarm on Y/N's phone a few minutes earlier than usual, a silent "I don't want you to be late" tucked away.
Y/N, even though they haven't spoken in hours, leaves a box of Charles' favorite chocolates by his side of the bed with a small, defiant, "there."
Charles, in a fit of stubbornness, puts on a new movie Y/N had been wanting to see, silently inviting her to join him on the couch.
In the middle of a tense stand-off at the grocery store, Y/N grabs Charles' favorite cereal despite his earlier grumbling about needing a healthier option.
During a heated argument at a cafe, Charles, mid-sentence, notices Y/N forgot her usual sugar packets and flags down the waiter for her.
Charles, mid-scoff at Y/N's comment, sees a street vendor selling her favorite flower and impulsively buys a bouquet, shoving it into her hand with a mumbled "kiss me now?"
In the middle of a tense breakfast, Y/N catches Charles wincing at a sore muscle and, pride swallowing her anger, reaches across the table to discreetly offer him a pain reliever.
Charles, while pretending to be engrossed in his phone at a cafe, flags down their usual waiter with a subtle nod, knowing Y/N will - forget to order her favorite latte in their current state.
During a heated argument at a gas station, Y/N, fuming, grabs the pump and fills Charles' car with gas anyway, throwing him the keys with a grumble.
Charles, after a particularly stubborn silence, walks past Y/N "accidentally" bumping into her shoulder, dropping a new book he knows she's been eyeing.
a bonus scene of charles apologising and y/n apologising :
⋆ charles saying sorry : The air crackled with unspoken apologies in their apartment. Charles, ever the racer, paced like a caged lion, while Y/N pretended to be engrossed in a book, the furrow in her brow a dead giveaway of her lingering annoyance. Finally, Charles couldn't take it anymore. He tiptoed closer, the floorboards groaning under his weight.
Y/N held her breath, pretending not to notice. Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest that smelled faintly of engine oil and his signature cologne.
"Alright, alright," Charles mumbled against her hair, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "I messed up. Big time."
Y/N bit her lip, torn between holding a grudge and melting in his embrace.
Charles, sensing her hesitation, nuzzled his face into her hair. He inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of her shampoo and vanilla body lotion a soothing balm to his racing heart. "You smell like sunshine," he murmured, his voice husky.
A soft smile tugged at Y/N's lips. "That's not exactly an apology, Leclerc," she teased, her voice barely a whisper.
Charles chuckled, a rich sound that vibrated against her back. "Fine," he sighed, tilting her head back with a gentle finger under her chin. His eyes, the color of the Monegasque sky after a summer rain, held a plea that was hard to resist. "I'm truly sorry, Y/N. Can you ever forgive this stubborn Monegasque?"
Y/N looked into his eyes, the anger slowly dissolving into a puddle of affection. "Maybe," she said, her voice playful.
Charles, unable to wait any longer, leaned in and captured her lips in a soft kiss. It started slow and sweet, a gentle apology that spoke volumes. Then, as his frustration melted away, the kiss deepened, a silent promise that they'd work through anything together.
When they finally broke apart, both breathless and smiling, Y/N snuggled back into his embrace. "Just promise you'll think twice before doing that again," she muttered, her voice muffled against his chest.
Charles chuckled, tightening his hold on her. "Scout's honor," he whispered, and for now, in the warmth of his arms, Y/N knew she believed him.
⋆ y/n saying sorry : The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy like a Monaco summer night. Y/N sat huddled on the couch, stealing glances at Charles slumped in the armchair across from her. The air hung heavy with unspoken apologies.
She couldn't hold out any longer. With a sigh, she rose and padded over to him. Charles moved slightly but Y/N surprised him. She launched herself onto his lap, burying her face in his chest.
"Charles," she mumbled, her voice muffled by his t-shirt. Her arms wrapped around him like a koala's, leaving him no room to escape.
He stiffened for a moment, unsure how to react. Then, a small smile played on his lips. "Alright, alright," he chuckled, his voice warm despite the tension. "What's this about, then?"
Y/N squeezed him tighter. "Sorry," she mumbled, the word muffled against his shirt.
Charles felt a wave of warmth wash over him. He knew that was her way of apologizing, stubborn and sweet all at once.
"Come on, Y/N," he teased, trying to peek around her head. "You gotta say it where I can hear you."
Y/N remained stubbornly silent, her grip unwavering. "Sorry," she repeated, a little louder this time.
Charles couldn't help but chuckle again. He placed a hand on her back, gently stroking it. "Alright, alright, I get it. You're sorry."
But Y/N wasn't finished. "No," she mumbled, her voice firm. "Look at me and say it's okay."
Charles sighed, a happy sound. He reached up with his other hand, tilting her chin up until their eyes met.
Her eyes, usually full of fire, were soft with regret now. "I messed up," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Can you forgive me?"
Charles could resist anything except Y/N like this. He leaned down, his lips brushing hers. "Yeah," he murmured against her mouth. "It's okay."
The moment he said the words, Y/N's face broke into a radiant smile. Before he could react further, she peppered his face with kisses, small, quick pecks that chased away the last remnants of their argument.
Charles laughed, pulling her even closer. "Alright, alright, I get it," he said, his voice thick with amusement. "You're forgiven."
Y/N snuggled into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips. In the quiet of their home, surrounded by the warmth of his love, the fight already felt like a distant memory.
Being a young adult is so strange. You enter a coffee shop. The 20 year old girl waiting behind you cried all night because she just came to a new city for university and she feels so alone. That 27 year old guy over there works a job he is overqualified for, he lives with his parents and wants to move out but doesn't know what to do about it. That one 24 year old dude already has a car, a house, and a job waiting for him once he graduates thanks to his dad's connections. The 26 year old barista couldn't complete his higher education because he has to work and take care of his family. The 28 year old girl sitting next to you has no friends to go out with so she is texting her mother. That couple (both 25 years old) are married and the girl is pregnant. The 29 year old writing something on her laptop has realized that she chose the wrong major so she is trying to start all over. We are not alone in this, but we are actually so alone. Do you feel me
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: best friends who have feelings for each other !! scary !! \ word count: 1.1k
warnings: there's like 2 sentences of steam but they literally just make out idk ! if u don't like cheesy men or reader being oblivious ... this will not be 4 u !notes: i wrote this because i cannot sleep so if it makes no sense... blame the lack of sleep not me ! feel free to leave any feedback here !
your fingernails dug into the plam of your hand, eyebrows creasing together as you stared at your best friend, the person that you would sacrifice anything for... hell, the person that you would go to jail for. you coud pinpoint the exact day things began to change, and that was the day that you friendship with charles had begun to turn into something far from platonic.
it was barley a year ago, you and charles had decided to go to a party, and maybe it was a bad idea when charles had been insisting that he needed the time to recouperate... but what better way to recouperate than with some alcohol and some quality time with friends and strangers alike?
♡♡♡
your hands had begun to get cold from the condensation that was forming on the outside of your glass, a pout taking over your glossed lips. "charlie," you drew out the last syllable, standing on your tiptoes so that he could maybe hear you over the music. "i'm bored." you hummed, head turning to the side as you stared him down.
"and what am i supposed to do about that, mon loulou?" he questioned back, raising an amused eyebrow at you as your shoulders shrugged at the taller male. "can we dance, do something please! i'm dying over here!" your dramatics didn't go unnoticed, charles letting out a laugh at your actions.
his hand grabbed yours, pulling you towards the crowded dance floor. your hips swayed easily to the music, the feeling of charles behind you wasn't foreign. it wasn't weird for best friends to be grinding on each other in the middle of a dance floor, right? because for you and charles, it definitely wasn't. the feeling of his hands on your waist caused you to throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as the two of you danced until your boredom was somewhat satiated.
shortly after, though, you began to feel overheated - the alcohol you had consumed too quickly hitting you like a ton of bricks. "charlie," his nickname came out like a whimper, your cheeks flushing. "i'm hot, can we go outside, please?" you asked the question as you were already moving away from him, eyeing the door that led to a balcony.
you let out a relieved sigh as the cooler air hit your sweaty skin, hands coming up to run through your hair. "i dunno what happened," you laughed, leaning against the railing. "i was fine and then i got hot, and not in a good way..." you joked as charles slotted himself next to you, your head resting on his shoulders. your eyes closed, listening to him speak as you hummed out responses, only half way listening.
one thing led to another, and you found your lips on charles', you hands in his hair and his hands placed firmly on your hips, not letting you move away - not like you wanted to. the feeling of his lips against yours was something you hadn't really thought of before, but... they were something unlike any one else you had ever kissed. they were soft, gentle... and all you knew in that moment was that you wanted to keep kissing the boy you had considered your best friend.
charles pulled away though, a bit too soon for your liking as you let out a whine of protest. "i," he bit his lip, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. you tried to decipher what emotion he was feeling, but his face was eerily empty. "we should go back inside." he stepped away from you, shoving his hands into his pockets. you stayed quiet, eyes finding the floor as you nodded your head. what the fuck just happened?
as soon as you got inside, you ordered yourself an uber, saying your goodbyes to your (very tipsy) friends who had tried to get you to stay longer, but you made up something about not feeling good, not like it was a lie, though. the feeling of regret, the feeling of unwantedness... it had you feeling sick to your stomach.
♡♡♡
"you wanted me to take that as a sign you had feeling for me?" the quesiton came out before you could stop it, a hand slapping over your mouth as you laughed. "you ran away from me, charles!"
"i was... embarassed, okay?" one of his hands came up and scratched the back of his neck. "i didn't want my first time kissing you to be on the balcony at some club, mon ange. it should've been something more important than that. but you really didn't think anything was different after vegas?"
♡♡♡
what happens in vegas, stays in vegas? or at least that's what they said... and that's what you told yourself as you led charles to your hotel room feeling the urge to congratulate him for making the podium.
his lips were on your neck as soon as the door was shut, your back snugly pushed against the wall. a whimper passed through your lips as his teeth grazed a sensitive spot, your hands pulling at whatever they could find purchase on.
"charlie, i need more..."
"oh, mon ange, you're going to get plenty."
♡♡♡
thinking back on the memory of vegas, you felt heat creep up into your chest and your cheeks. did you really miss these signs of charles trying to make moves on you..? there's no way, right? "what happens in vegas stays in vegas!" you counter, holding your hands up in defense.
"mon ange." he deadpans, a look of are you dumb? crossing his features.
"okay, okay... maybe i should've looked more into it but you know how i am!" you step closer to him, a hand reaching out to graze at his forearm. "but, charlie... if you really wanted to be with me you should've just told me..." you let out a giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "or, i dunno, asked me on a date? or just plain asked me out?" there's a teasing edge to your tone, a smile pulling at your lips.
"i'm not doing that," he scoffs, his hands pulling at your waist to pull you close to him. "you're mine, mon ange... you might not have realized it, but, it's gonna be me and you for however long your willing to deal with me." he leans down to kiss you, but you reach a hand up to stop him.
"that was the cheesiest shit i've ever heard, charles." you make a mock disgusted face before dropping your hand. "but, you can kiss me now, if you'd like.."
in which you work in a man’s world, and loving your competitor is a lot more damning for you than charles.
warnings; smut, driver!reader, themes of sexism and misogyny and touches on inequality, angst, lotta tension tbh, she’s kinda long, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praise, degradation like once, public sex, jealousy and maybe a bad friend reader if u squint, haas suck, manifested monaco win for charles :p
lovelorn and nobody knows
love thorns all over this rose,
i’ll pay the price, you won’t
you’d overcome enough challenges in your life.
you’d constantly proven everyone wrong, do what those said you can’t ━ every step and move you made was met with criticism instead of praise. doubt instead of belief.
you found a way. you broke the records, created your own more so. first modern day female f1 driver, and you didn’t intend to be the last.
haas wasn’t where you wanted to be, and while most expected you to be happy with just having a seat; that’s not why you were here. you didn’t fall in love with the sport to just become a driver.
you wanted to win. podiums, wins, championships. like the other 19 drivers ━ you all wanted the same thing.
for some reason you were the only one who got laughed at when speaking on such wants.
but you got used to the laughter, to the unamused or unimpressed journalists ━ this was a man’s world.
that didn’t scare you as a 14 year old girl, and it wouldn’t scare you now.
all these challenges and obstacles that you overcame, all the doubt and hate you shook off; yet there was a certain something you just couldn’t shake.
certain someone more so.
it killed you inside that a man of all things could cause you so much grief, so much internal conflict.
for some reason when it came to charles, you just couldn’t resist. putting your career first, which you’d done all your life, suddenly became difficult.
you didn’t show it, you also weren’t too hard on yourself. it was unfair to be in this position in the first place. to have to be so aware of your relation to the driver, any other drivers of that matter, was a circumstance only you found yourself in.
friendships and banters amongst any other pairings on the grid was adored; snatched up by social media and cameras.
your friendships caused headlines and unwanted press apparently.
it was something you picked up on quickly, the obsession of romance and the assumption that you wanted to sleep with every damn man you raced alongside.
you laughed at it, spoke down on such thing; then didn’t give it any of your time.
until suddenly the rumours were true; charles leclerc had somehow weaselled his way past every barrier and wall you put up.
it wasn’t something you accepted quickly. and once you caught wind of your stupid little heart and it’s fondness of the monegasque you were quick to try put the friendship and it’s entirety six feet under.
this worked, for a few months.
charles had been confused ━ under the assumption you two were at the bare minimum friends. as good as friends as two drivers could get at least. then suddenly you avoided him as if he was carrying the plague.
he couldn’t question it however; it’d be pathetic. to ask you why you refused to meet his eyes in press conferences and drivers briefings anymore.
why you avoided whatever side of the drivers parade truck he was on. why you couldn’t spare him more than a ‘hello’ in passing these days.
he interacted less with other drivers, and didn’t question them. so he couldn’t question you.
las vegas however, was your downfall.
drinking was unavoidable ━ daniel had made you promise to go out with him the moment you congratulated him on his return; and if it hadn’t been him, you knew someone would’ve of.
with daniel, there was max. that was fine; you got on well with max.
then there were talks lando would make it out, despite having gone to hospital; you knew a couple other drivers would also be in the same club you were. an entry fee so high, everyone around you was oozing importance and wealth.
it shouldn’t have surprised you when suddenly charles appeared at an already drunk daniel’s side; loud laughter and murmurs of a prior vegas trip giving you enough time to down your drink in preparation to be in his presence.
you couldn’t run, not when stood in a group of four; silver slip dress doing little to allow you to blend in with the crowd around you.
you felt his gaze on you before your eyes met his, almost as if it was causing heat on your skin ━ demanding you to look at him.
his eyes had met yours with a slight twinkle, slightly hooded and telling you that he too had enough alcohol running in his veins; and the lazy smile he flashed you had your own lips curving upwards with little resistance.
it was embarassing the way your cheeks went a tint of pink as you watched him weave around daniel who was now speaking to max, too engrossed in a story to care about the way charles moved him out of the way, to stand next to you.
immediately you were aware of his hand finding the small of your back as your body became aware of the closeness of him, breath getting caught in your throat as he leant down towards your ear.
“you look incredible,” the compliment was genuine; the smile accompanying his words rendering you unable to find room to complain.
suddenly it was too hot in here. you’d like to blame the alcohol, or the stuffy club. but the man to your left was the only reason you suddenly craved fresh air.
“thank you,” you hummed, not creating distance between the pair of you despite the idea crossing your mind. he was too close, you should step away. but his cologne smelt incredible. and his hand was still lingering on your back lightly.
his smile only grew at your response, having expected you to wiggle away and disappear into the crowd.
the conversation was harmless, it always had been; but speaking with charles was just a reminder that he was one of the good ones.
he’d only ever been kind to you; kind to everyone. one of the first to speak with you like any other driver, speak about racing and your careers without undermining you.
the more time you spent with him the more clear it became that he was flawless. and oh so tempting.
maybe you would’ve ended the conversation when daniel gave you an out, interrupting the pair of you. but it was with shots on a tray next to him.
three shots later and the four of you were all cringing, scrambling to find chasers; charles offering you a lime that you quickly took ━ managing to squirt lime juice everywhere but your mouth.
it had the pair of you erupting into giggles, your hands quickly landing on his shirt which was now speckled in droplets.
“i’m so sorry!” you exasperated, only now becoming aware of the way you were struggling to stand up straight. using his chest to balance you momentarily.
he wasn’t doing any better, telling you it was fine through his own laughter; his hand lifting to your face ━ thumb brushing a few droplets off your cheek as he too swayed side to side.
your eyes met, both drunken and amused ━ and suddenly all rational thoughts had left your body.
“we need another.” you declared, hand grasping around his forearm; watching as his lips parted to disagree. but he couldn’t. a good time too tempting to resist right now.
max and daniel were long forgotten as you weaved through the crowd to the bar to sought after shots of your own; unable to identify the moment your hands had taken grasp of each other.
it was a fun two hours; innocent as well, flirtatious maybe but his hand didn’t stoop lower than your back ━ drinks consistently being poured; drivers, personnel, sponsors and fans rotating through. but you didn’t leave charles side.
you weren’t on edge either, not thinking about the what ifs. about tomorrow or the next week. just enjoying the moment.
time had gone incredibly quickly. you lost track of how many hours had been spent at the bar, how many drinks you’d downed.
charles too, until you were leaning further and further into his side. his intake stopped the moment he realised you were now struggling to stand straight.
the thought entered his mind to find a member of your team, haas or personal, to help you get you to your room soon.
he was drunk, there was no doubt about it. but he was attempting to sober up in your presence.
when you spilt a drink over the bar however, he took responsibility and declared your night was over.
it was a struggle, as his hands clasped around your arms and attempted to push you towards the exit ━ quickly realising he too was struggling to walk straight.
he’d managed however, getting you into the back of his drivers car not as easy with you dropping your phone. then him his wallet, resulting in drunken giggles and mumbles as you finally got buckled in and situated.
most of the car ride was filled with you rambling, charles more than happy to let you speak. he’d missed hearing from you ━ even if he could barely make sense and keep up with your story.
it wasn’t until you were stumbling in the hotel, through the underground entrance thankfully, and into the elevator that there was moments of silence.
you leaned back against the wall, watching as charles pressed the buttons. admiring more so, head titled aside as you gazed over the ferarri driver.
only then did you realise you shouldn’t be in this position. because all you wanted to do was get your hands on him. admire him up close, the distance of the elevator a rude difference to how the night had been spent.
your arms reached upwards, practically beckoning him over; and with an amused smile he easily fell into place ━ approaching you as his hand pressed against the wall beside your head, eyebrows raising upwards in curiosity as he peered down at you.
your arms wrapped around his neck naturally, neither of you phased from the new closeness and comfortability ━ your eyes flickering over his face, lingering on his lips for a few moments too long.
“i want to kiss you,” the words escaped your lips without any thought; it was as if a weight was lifted off your chest. some form of confession quite relieving.
charles hummed at your words, smirking even as he let out a breathy chuckle.
“yeah?” he teased ━ his breath fanning your face, and you nodded without any hesitation. it’s not what you wanted that had you not making any movements.
“mhm,” you sighed, head falling back; charles having not expected the huff of disappointment. you missed the way his eyebrows furrowed for a split second. if he was sober maybe he’d pick up on your internal conflict.
“kiss me then,” charles chimed, hand finding the side of your head; cupping your cheek so delicately you could only lean into the embrace.
never had you called on such will power and mental strength, fighting every instinct and nerve in your body that was practically yearning for him. begging you to put yourself out of your misery for once and rid the distance between the pair of you.
but you hadn’t come so far for nothing. you could only make so many drunken decisions.
“i can’t,” the words were painful to say, even the slight numbness that alcohol brought; you felt every sting of the sentence.
you watched the way his lips only curved upwards, he hadn’t picked up on the seriousness of your words.
“why not?” the question was teasing, his thumb caressing your cheek making it difficult to stick to your guns.
you looked at him as if he should know; because you’d hope he’d have some sort of idea. maybe if you could see straight you would’ve realised that charles reality wasn’t the same of yours.
“people will talk.” it sounded pathetic when you said it out loud, the sentence sobering you up enough to realise such thing. you weren’t one to usually care what people thought, so the way his smile faltered made sense.
charles took a few moments to process your words ━ he would’ve stepped away if it weren’t for your arms around him.
he wanted to point out that you two were in fact alone, but he knew what you meant. no secret was kept secret for long in the world of f1.
“let them.” charles attempted to dismiss, a cheesy smile to match, one that had you smiling as well. but it wasn’t the grin you’d been carrying all night. it was a sympathetic one almost.
charles was putting some pieces together now, as much as he could at least. your avoidance of him was making more sense with the words currently leaving your lips.
“wouldn’t fair well for me,” you mumbled; the disappointment clear in your tone. the annoyance at the fact there was clearly something stopping you. your mood was falling, charles noticed that easily.
and while he himself wasn’t overjoyed with how the night was concluding, he wouldn’t let it be ruined.
“it’s okay,” charles reassured quickly, his lips pressing to your forehead delicately instead ━ you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, he didn’t want you to feel as if you needed too. “let’s get you to bed.” he grinned.
the affectionate action caught you off guard, left speechless as his hand grasped yours and began to directing you out of the elevator. it only having you feeling regret and self pity for letting the moment escape your fingertips.
which only piled on you tenfold when he left your hotel room barely after making it two steps inside.
climbing into the sheets alone had never been so painful.
painful. a good word to describe the next few interactions with charles.
abu dhabi had you on edge. you didn’t know how to face him.
it was typical, finding yourself sat next to him in the drivers press conference. feeling as if every journalist in the room would take note of the exchanging glances, the way your eyes would quickly find something else if his met yours. the way you listened to him speak a little too intently.
charles however had no worries. not a thought in his mind as he shamelessly admired you, listening to every answer you gave. watching as you reacted to the words of other drivers or questions that weren’t to do with you. he couldn’t look away.
you’d avoided him all morning and yesterday; having not caught you after vegas.
charles was used to such behaviour, except now, he knew why. and your reasoning wasn’t good enough to him.
you two could be friends; it didn’t need to be one extreme or the other. so he had no shame in putting in effort to deter yours.
it was frustrating, almost as if every corner you turned he was there. all weekend, if you were not in the haas hospitality or your motor home, charles was near.
it was no coincidence, leaving the press pen at the same time; passing him after any interview, stuck next to him at the drivers briefing.
you couldn’t avoid the conversation, every moment with him was just pushing you further to the edge ━ your self control was hanging by a very thin thread and you were almost ready to cut it every time those damn green eyes linger on yours.
when you arrived at your hotel after qualifying, it was easy to spot him waiting in the lobby. an odd sight considering the lurking fans.
it made sense however, when charles beelined towards the elevator the moment you did.
you had to hold your breath as you both got inside, biting down on the inside of your cheek to not allow your own frustration bubble over.
“what are you doing?” the question was asked through gritted teeth, and the confusion that masked charles face did little to convince you he was as clueless as he looked.
the twinkle of amusement in his eye revealed enough.
“what do you mean?” the question was almost a challenge, charles peering down at you inquisitively - as if he didn’t know the answer himself.
you took a breath, shaking your head ever so slightly.
to put it simply, you were annoyed. at the world for putting you in this position, at yourself for getting to this point, and him for making it more difficult than it had to be.
“you’re stalking me.” you accused; eyes narrowing into a glare; one that intensified as his own lips curved upwards, and if you weren’t so focused on being annoyed you would’ve swooned over the dimples that lined his cheeks in doing so.
“i am not stalking you,” charles mused, laughing at the accusation as he leant against the wall behind him.
you expected more of an explanation ━ your own eyes trained ahead of you at the elevator doors that remained shut. looking at him was too risky.
“you are. you’re everywhere.” you huffed; not pleased with how clear the frustration was in your tone.
charles wasn’t phased, not in the slightest ━ the grin hadn’t left his face; almost as if any conversation with you was more than enough. even if you were huffing and puffing.
he wasn’t sure how the infatuation had spiralled so quickly; maybe he just wanted what he couldn’t have. the man wasn’t too use to rejection, and last week definitely stumped him.
or maybe he just refused to let you run away from what you clearly both see. feel. there was a connection here, he was sure of it.
“are we not friends?” charles question had you drawing a deep breath, suddenly aware of how slow these elevators were. and recognising the first flaw with being blessed with a penthouse room.
“of course we’re friends.” you rolled your eyes, speaking with such certainty as if you needed to remind yourself. friends.
you two were friends at most, that’s all you’d allow the pair of you to be.
“then you shouldn’t actively avoid me.” charles hummed, no shame in calling out your obvious behaviour that he’d let go on for too long.
it was humorous, the way your jaw dropped in offence at the accusation you knew was true.
“i do not.” your voice went up an octave, not even you could believe your own lie ━ nor try to sell it, avoiding his eye now as your leg began to bounce impatiently. it was becoming suffocating, in an enclosed space with him.
“you do.” charles mocked your voice ever so slightly, but the smile that went along with it left you no room to complain as you glanced over at him; your own lips curving upwards for a mere second.
you had nothing to say. to you it was clear, he knew where you stood. but you weren’t budging. it’s not like you wanted to deprive yourself of him; but you refused to sacrifice your career for a man. call it paranoia; but you don’t want to find out the consequences of adding truth to rumours.
“you don’t trust yourself around me.” charles had you read, and he wanted you to know it.
you two could be, should be, able to be friends at least. the monegasque was unsure as to why he was so set on such thing; some of you, was better than none.
“don’t flatter yourself.” you mumbled, attempting to dismiss his words; he was right. hit the nail on the head actually, but you wouldn’t admit that.
“we can be friends.” charles huffed when he realised he was straying from his original intentions; he didn’t want to provoke or tempt you. just make it clear there can be a platonic relationship here. you shouldn’t be scared of that.
“we are.” you reminded, eyebrows raising as you looked up at him; finally holding eye contact with the driver for more than a few seconds.
“then stop avoiding me.” charles repeated; and he’d be ashamed of how desperate he sounded if he had any room to care. but you were more of a pressing issue.
if he hadn’t called you out on a whole range of fronts you would’ve commented on his desperation; the elevator ding beating you to it regardless as the doors slid open.
“fine. only because you care so much,” your reply was playful; attempting to sound amused and unbothered ━ maybe that would distract from the fact you were agreeing with him.
you only had another day of being around him, you could easily do a day with him. las vegas was an example of your strength and will.
but as his grin widened, dimples and all, green eyes still pouring into yours as he backed out of the elevator; you knew it was never going to be easy.
the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air
everyone wants him, that was my crime
the wrong place at the right time
of course it wasn’t easy.
you’d kept true to your word, he’d called you out so you finally relented.
the only solace you found in allowing yourself to get closer to charles was the fact you were right.
every moment spent with him felt like a ticking time bomb. you were cracking, you knew it. deep down you knew it was only a matter of time until you shattered and he’d be there to pick up every piece.
at first you’d coincidentally ran into him at your favourite cafe in monaco. not the first time you’d seen him there; but the first time he signalled you to sit down.
it was harmless at first, a quick catch up. one you’d have with any other colleague you’d bump into in public during winter break.
but there was something about seeing him in such casual attire, hoodie and sweats portraying him in a new light you couldn’t help but take a liking too.
what should’ve been five minutes of small talk was two hours of conversation; two hours of mind numbing tension, pretending to not notice the way his eyes would linger on your lips every now and then. or acting oblivious to the way you laughed at every second word that left his lips.
he parted with an offer to go on a run together sometime, and you accepted with the assumption it would be an empty gesture. a plan that never gets put in place.
but then he texted you a few days later; and suddenly you were struggling to find excuses to reject the offer. struggling to find the want too.
a run wasn’t dangerous. you’d both be pre-occupied.
and you were, until you were standing there puffed; exhausted and puffed; and struggling to not grow further flustered of the sight of a sweaty charles.
muscles flexing against the tight shirt, hair messier than usual; cheeks slightly flushed.
inviting him up to your place for a drink wasn’t your intention, but your mouth was a step ahead of your brain.
uncharted territory had now been crossed. messages were swapped regularly, weekly runs together was almost routine. then hours of conversation at either your apartment or his.
if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you definitely had now. it was beyond physical attraction. and it was mutual.
it was the way you found yourself always ensuring you had the biscuits he’d practically raided the first time he was over, always in an unopened packet awaiting him.
the way he found himself buying the lime flavoured water you preferred to drink after exercising; knowing your odd quirk of not being keen on regular water.
the way he came over with your coffee order and a chocolate croissant from your shared favourite cafe when you bailed on your run, apologising to him because you’d become run down with a cold.
“you didn’t have to do that,” you’d sniffled, heart fluttering at the kind gesture.
“what else are friends for,” charles had practically cheesed.
you’d like to convince yourself he was still at a safe distance, it made it easier to ignore the fact this wouldn’t last forever.
the limbo state was not ideal to neither of you, but it was much better than doing what you felt was inevitable. avoiding him again.
except that would just be much harder this time. before it was a crush; now you were swoon. you counted down the days to see him. awaited his name to appear on your phone.
there’d been close calls; moments where you thought one of you would crack.
like the time you struggled to grab a glass out of his cupboard, tippy toes and all it was out of reach.
you felt him behind you before seeing him, hand finding your hip as his other arm simply reached over you to grab a glass; quick to turn on your feet you hadn’t expected him so close.
“thanks,” you had mumbled, clearly flustered as you looked up at him ━ trapped between his frame and the counter; eyes finding his lips immediately.
silence fell over the pair of you, awaiting one of you to make a move.
you were glad charles had cleared his throat and stepped aside, returning to a safe distance ━ because you didn’t think you’d be capable of such thing in that moment.
charles questioned how he managed to do such thing, each and every time you got close to him he doubted how long he could resist being selfish.
he’d failed to realise back in abu dhabi that he neither could trust himself around you. he’d put in so much effort to prove to you that friends was possible, so naive to the fact it may be worse than before.
while he loved your company, it was a cruel reminder that you had ruled out the possibility of this going further. any dreams or fantasies of more would always stay that way; dreams. not reality.
it frustrated him beyond belief, not that he showed it. the way you gazed up at him through your pretty eyes; as if you’d do anything he asked. the way you always leant towards him when you laughed; how easily he could make you laugh.
and he couldn’t do anything about it. because he wasn’t selfish, you feared the consequences of being with him so he would not push you to face them.
deep down however, the pair of you knew it could only be a matter of time.
yet it still stung how easily it could’ve been avoided.
you weren’t meant to go out tonight, it had been a last minute and spontaneous decision; pressured by your friends who insisted, claiming you missed too many girls nights as it is. that winter break was there time to make up for all you miss while away during the season.
you got kicked out of the first bar you found yourself in, all because one of your friends picked a fight with the bartender; but that didn’t bother you in the moment.
on to the next.
it took a whole eight minutes being at the club, one you had subtlety name dropped to get yourself and your friends into, to spot charles in the crowd.
your friends eyes had found him first; your own merely following theirs in curiosity, and you were grateful that all four of you were preoccupied looking at the driver so they would fail to realise your own longing.
“i have not seen him in ages,” your friend stella spoke first; clueless to the developed friendship between the pair of you. you hadn’t really told anyone, call it trust issues.
“we should go say hi,” stella continued; looking at you all with hopefulness; eyes having lit up and appearing incredibly eager.
you couldn’t think of a worse idea. alcohol and charles almost ruined you once; and that was a few months ago. you didn’t think you had that much self control left.
“we have our own driver right here,” your friend had joked, rejecting the idea as she nudged your arm; purely because she wanted a girls night. and you laughed at the stupidity, ready to play along for your own selfish interests.
“unfortunately y/n, you’re not one stella can sleep with again,” your other friend joked through a smirk, alcohol causing word vomit, because by the way stella quickly slapped her arm told you that information she didn’t want shared.
the revelation had your face falling flat, not able to hide such thing as you pursed your lips in thought.
“you and charles?” the words escaped your lips with too much interest but you couldn’t stop yourself. suddenly needing to know more.
stella had let out an exasperated sigh.
you were grateful to know your friend beside you who rejected the idea of speaking to him was as shocked as you.
“ages ago.” stella tried to downplay, waving the idea off. although then she peered over her shoulder to look at the driver again, an innocent smile spreading across her face.
you nodded slightly, trying to muster a fake smile. you couldn’t be mad; it wouldn’t be rational to be mad. even in the slightest.
“i’m gonna go talk to him.” stella announced, and you could only swallow intently as your friend whined about it being girls night, watching as stella promised she’d be back before weaving through the crowd.
you were staring, but you didn’t care.
left to watch as stella made her presence known. watch as charles face lit up at the familiar face, embrace her quickly and introduce her to those he was stood with.
you could tell he was slightly tipsy, the way he was swaying side to side; even with his arm now draped around stella’s shoulders.
the sight made you sick. jealousy was an ugly trait but you’d never embraced it like you were now.
jealous of the fact your friend didn’t have to worry in going after what she wanted. jealous that she could quite happily cling to charles without worrying who saw.
your mood had plummeted, there was no hiding it. your friends definitely noticing but not questioning as they too glanced over at stella to note her progress.
it wasn’t until charles’ eyes found yours across the room that you looked away.
not in shame, you didn’t care that he knew you were watching; but more so to not make it clear how annoyed you were from the sight alone.
charles tensed up the moment he saw you ━ he hadn’t known you were here. and now that he did, the company he was with suddenly wasn’t good enough.
he’d picked up on your cold stare though; the way you failed to offer him your usual sweet smile.
suddenly he felt guilty, quick to remind himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
the driver distracted himself momentarily, tuning back into the conversation that was going on around him. but his mind was now elsewhere. you were consuming his thoughts now.
intentions to keep his distance were thrown out the window when he noticed you in his peripheral; standing at the bar alone.
he shouldn’t approach you; but the idea of letting you sit there and think he would rather spend his time with the blonde on his arm than you didn’t sit well with him either.
so he found himself excusing himself, heading to the bar where you stood.
you’d grabbed your drink, and the moment you turned around to head back to your seat and continue your moping, you’d spotted charles headed straight towards you.
a creature of habit; avoid him was your first thought. so you attempted to pretend to not see him, a sudden sense of urgency as you headed back to the booth your two friends were still sat at.
charles picked up on such thing however, his own urgency increasing as he managed to get ahead of you; practically cutting you off.
you’d been so desperate in your attempts to avoid him and his eyes that you collided, your drink taking the brunt of the hit as it fell to the ground; pouring ice and liquid on the floor, thankfully missing the pair of you.
you were quick to glare up at him, made to watch as he put his hands up in innocence and let out a quick and not too meaningful ‘sorry.’
you didn’t want to speak to him. he was an easy target for your current anger, so stepping around him was easy; you’d go without your drink for now, wanting to return to the safety of your booth.
but charles didn’t think that was fair.
he’d grabbed your arm before you made it two steps away; your name falling from his lips almost in warning.
“you don’t get to be mad at me.” charles huffed, it wasn’t fair. you told him that friends was the only possibility, so you had no reason to be glaring daggers and avoiding him as if he’d done something wrong.
he was right, you knew he was right. you weren’t even mad at him. but you were mad; fed up with the constant deprival you had to put yourself through, at how much you cared about what people would say ━ that you couldn’t put you and him out of your shared misery.
but unfortunately you had nothing else to aim your anger at; it was just you and charles in this position, meaning he fell into your firing line.
“i think you care too much about what i think of you.” you tried to dismiss his comment; not wanting to admit he was right, calling out his constant efforts of chasing you.
you watched as his jaw tensed, the breath he let out and his eyes drifting aside as he tried to rationalise his thoughts before he said something he’d regret.
“i didn’t know you knew stella.” charles huffed; deciding on what could be a civil approach. he didn’t need to explain himself, but that would be easier than playing into your game and letting you try create a rift between the pair of you.
you wanted to throw the words back at his face; but you stopped yourself. neither he nor stella owed you any loyalty when it came to one another; definitely not back then, so you couldn’t use it against him.
“it doesn’t matter.” you tried to sound calm, remove yourself from the animosity you held. if you could just get away from him, go home, and pretend this never happened.
“it clearly does.” charles didn’t miss a beat; it would have been easier to blindly believe you but how was that possible when you were refusing to meet his eyes and running away from him.
you shook your head, not knowing what to say because you couldn’t disagree there. he was right; like usual, surprise, surprise. truths were harder to ignore when it was coming from his mouth.
“it shouldn’t.” you spoke simply, before turning on your heel and heading towards the bathroom now; anywhere to get away. the thread was getting thinner, you didn’t trust yourself around him.
he’d debated on following you for a couple seconds, knowing what he should do. return to his friends. to stella; there was no complications there.
but yet he found himself just a few steps behind you, refusing to let you get the last word. to let you fall back into your old habits of avoiding him.
a part of you knew he was following you, or maybe that’s what you wanted to believe. your want to get away from him was just a product of self preservation, not true desire.
so you weren’t surprised to hear your name once you were about to reach the bathroom. turning around to face him with a sigh. you should’ve pretended to not hear him.
“what are you doing?” you huffed; looking at him with lost eyes because you were running out of things to say or do, unsure where to go from here.
“what do you want?” charles question caught you off guard, alongside the fact he took maybe one or two steps too many when catching up to you ━ so close and you couldn’t find the strength to create any distance.
you pursed your lips, shaking your head ever so slightly.
the lack of an answer spoke for itself, you knew what you wanted. him. but admitting such thing would be dangerous.
“you know we can’t━” you started to say, needing to remind yourself that as tempting as he was right now it wasn’t possible.
he cut you off however. charles knew what you thought; what you presumed others would think.
“i don’t care about anyone else. what do you want?” charles repeated, speaking with such intent it would’ve been intimidating if your mind wasn’t a scramble of thoughts.
he was practically begging you to spell it out for him; to face the truth of the matter. if you could look him in the eye and tell him you were happy with what you both had right now, he’d walk away.
but you were never going to do that. you could only bend so far.
you finally snapped.
connecting your lips with his was the easiest option, and the moment you did it was as if nothing else mattered. relief washing over the pair of you, as if a giant weight was suddenly lifted.
there’d been the slightest amount of hesitant in the action, but that was forgotten immediately.
it was rushed and messy at first, months worth of tension bubbling to the surface as your hands both pawed at one another eagerly; grabbing whatever you could.
having your hands on him wasn’t something you’d take for granted; gripping his shirt; moving to his biceps before wrapping around his neck.
his intentions were similar to yours, his large hands sprawling amongst the sides of your waist ━ not bothered by the way it caused your dress to bunch ever so slightly. he tugged you closer too, as if he was scared you’d leave his grasp.
he managed to back you into the bathroom without disconnecting your lips; hand only leaving your waist to fiddle blindly with the lock.
the kiss was still messy, eager and heated; gasping into his mouth when your back suddenly hit the wall. charles body enclosing you immediately, your legs suddenly feeling week as his hips pressed forward against yours.
it was not surprising that it didn’t stop their, neither of you were stopping now that the ice had been broken.
the night concluding with your hands spread on the wall ahead of you as charles pounded you from behind, dress bunched around your waist and panties pulled aside.
“gotta be quiet mon amour,” he’d whispered into your ear after your moans continued to grow in volume ━ his hand then moving to your jaw, sliding two fingers past your lips to shut you up.
you would’ve died happily in that moment, moments away from the best orgasm of your life.
no matter what happened, you wouldn’t be regretting it.
and I break down, then he's pullin' me in
in a world of boys, he's a gentleman
you hadn’t seen charles since that night in monaco.
he’d left for maranello not too long after, then you spent the rest of break in america; the season approaching relatively quickly.
messages were swapped, but nothing more.
testing was hectic, you didn’t get to see him or spend time with him even if you wanted too.
you weren’t sure you wanted to however. you missed him, that had been mutually expressed over text. but both you and he were scared; unsure how to navigate what happens now.
because unfortunately the circumstances hadn’t changed, you’d just gotten a taste of one another.
by the time it was raceday at bahrain, all excitement for the start of the season had left your body.
thursday set the tone; all your hard work, months of avoidance and deprival ━ it suddenly meant nothing.
you first caught wind of such in the press conference, sat alongside max, lewis, lando, carlos and alex.
when you finally got asked a question, your breath got stuck in your throat.
“did you enjoy your winter break? a new trainer in charles it seems?”
the question was posed so innocently, you knew the tone. the cheery and amused light heartedness to mask the undertones; it was accusing. you knew it was; any girl would get it.
you knew photos were circulating of you and charles running around monaco, but that wasn’t an issue. there were photos of you and daniel out for lunch as well. ones of you and toto exchanging hello’s.
what a headline; you got along with people you worked with.
“uh yeah,” you laughed off; biting your tongue, like usual. you knew when to pick your battles. “i’m no good at padel so, stuck to running.” you hummed, left to watch as the journalist nodded almost unconvinced.
it was a sinking feeling; they knew, everyone knew. it’d somehow got out. that you’d slept together. paranoia; you had to remind yourself. they couldn’t know.
“is it difficult to have relations off track with competitors?” he was looking you dead in the eye as he posed another question to you, and it hit a nerve.
you shifted ever so slightly in your seat. you hadn’t faced these sort of questions since your rookie year, when journalists didn’t realise what they should and shouldn’t imply.
you had to hold back a scoff; biting down on the inside of your cheek.
“is that a question for all of us or just me?” you practically challenged, and the awkwardness that fell over the room only had the pit in your stomach growing.
it was as if they all knew something you didn’t.
that was all you were asked, all you could think about as you sat on the couch, itching to get out of this damn room.
but that was just the start.
entering the haas hospitality your gut feeling made sense when you were faced with the entirety of the press team awaiting you.
granted, the press team was only four people. but you only ever really dealt with your own press officer if it was without warning.
the whole conversation was a blur, you felt sick the moment it begun.
‘we need to have a meeting,’
‘there’s photos of you and leclerc,’
‘damming to your reputation. our reputation,’
‘unacceptable behaviour and a breach of contract,’
‘negotiating to not let mainstream media run with it,’
‘we’re opening our own private investigation.’
you were being spoken at, no room to reply, no ounce of sympathy. you could feel the disgust as they spoke. as if you’d actually done something wrong.
“investigation?” you repeated in confusion, bewildered as you glanced between the lot of them.
you didn’t know what to say. or do.
deny? beg them to cover it up? apologise?
you felt like that 13 year old girl again, that anything you said wouldn’t matter. keeping your mouth shut as they broke out in chatter again.
short. blunt. your own press officer not even sticking around as they the dispersed, even mentioning that gene would probably be calling later.
you felt like you were going to throw up the moment you got into the privacy of your drivers room, it only taking a few seconds to find the photos flooding your timeline.
monaco. it was undeniable. it was definitely him, definitely you, kissing.
you held back your tears, determined to not let the comments ruin you. your press teams words lingering, but you pushed them back.
the day dragged, you were on edge; one wrong move and an on pour of tears would arise to the surface. just needed to wait till you were in the privacy of your hotel room.
these people would not see you cry.
you hadn’t expected the cold shoulder from your own team. but it was your manager that was the tip of the iceberg.
you hadn’t seen him all day, a close friend you’d consider him, he’d been with you since f3.
“where have you been?” you breathed as you climbed into the car, more than relieved to be leaving the track. and hopefully every conversation that was had.
“cleaning your mess.” he’d muttered in annoyance, and you couldn’t help but shake your head as your jaw clenched.
“not you too,” it was an attempt of a joke, head resting against the window. “don’t know why people are acting like i shared the teams 3 year plan with the enemy,” you huffed.
but you were only met with silence, causing your eyes to glance to your manager who was focused on his laptop in his lap.
“i mean it jason. the way i was treated today was━” you began to speak up at his silence, anger was easier than the self pity.
“what did you expect?” his question was venomous, shutting you up quickly as you stared at him with a slack jaw. it took a few moments to process, how he was on side with them.
or more importantly, not on your side. the guy who you pay to be on your side.
“for my personal life to remain personal.” you spoke like it was obvious.
you had feared this, yes, but that didn’t mean it was right. maybe you held onto hope your lack of faith in the world was misplaced. but everyone was proving you right.
he shook his head simply, so disappointingly you had to laugh, eyes gazing back out the window as you rapidly approached the hotel.
“i thought you didn’t want to be known for this.” his comment was a throw away one, but it cut you deep. his insinuation one he knew would sting, so you didn’t hide the fact it did.
“known for what?” you spoke through gritted teeth; if he wanted to insult you he better not half ass it.
there was moment of silence, hesitance; but not long enough.
“sleeping around.” he shrugged, still typing away on his computer. “great way to halt contract talks. i mean come on y/n,” he groaned.
you weren’t sure if he was right, you’d like to think your talent would over shine paddock gossip. but if he was right, the problem should lie with teams misogyny. not your sex life.
you highly doubt ferarri will hesitate resigning charles because of the matter.
you didn’t say another word, not trusting your voice; it was too much. felt like you were being attacked from every angle. ambushed even.
you’d slammed the door the moment you got out the car, urgently getting inside the hotel; managing to find the elevator through blurry eyes, tears threatening to spill.
almost there.
the elevator ride was testing, the silence made your short breaths and sniffles hard to ignore as you tiptoed on the line of breaking.
the final straw however, was charles himself leaving his hotel room as you navigated your way to yours.
your name had never sounded so delicate coming from his lips, as if he knew that you were fragile, sympathetic eyes as he took a few steps towards you.
“don’t━” you breathed out, voice breaking on you before you could say his name. your hand raising to tell him to stay where he was.
the first tear fell, silently.
“i’m so sorry,” he breathed out; cautiously stepping forwards despite your action. it broke him, the sight of you. he’d never seen you so upset.
overjoyed, pissed off, ecstatic, confused, riled up; he’d seen it all. but never had he seen you cry.
“you’re the last person i want to see right now.” you managed to get out.
lie.
complete lie, but unfortunately once more he was an easy target. the face of today’s events and the reason for fractures in practically every professional relationship you’d formed over the years.
charles didn’t take your words to heart, watching as you fumbled to find your room key; your shaky hands had him frowning, behind you now as he grabbed your arm when you took a step inside.
“please,” charles sighed; desperate for you to let him help. let him comfort you. he felt responsible, but it wasn’t guilt that was pushing him towards you.
just the need to ensure you were okay.
he’d barely received a slap on the wrist. told by his press team to ‘be more careful next time.’ and reminded issues would arise if talks of strategy and racing came to light.
that was that. his day went on. he almost got ahead of himself, optimistic the day could end with him showing up at your door to tell you that you never had anything to worry about.
but word spread quickly in the paddock, and charles caught onto the double standards incredibly quickly with how you were being spoken about in comparison to him.
you didn’t trust your voice once more, simply shaking your head ‘no’ as you got inside, attempting to shake his grasp.
he didn’t let you however, which was almost a relief.
the door shut behind the pair of you, charles tugging you towards his chest immediately.
you had no more strength, no fight left; simply letting him do so as the tears poured.
your head met his chest, arms clinging to his shirt as his arms went around you; holding you close as he mumbled encouraging words.
he felt like a safe place, allowing you to be weak and vulnerable with no fear for the first time in a long time.
quiet sobs and sniffles escaped you as you shook in his hold. it wasn’t just a days worth of torment, no, but all the other shit you put up with from the start of your career.
charles wasn’t sure what to say, just that it’d be okay. let it out. i’ve got you.
his hand was running through your hair delicately, and you somehow register the multiple kisses he pressed to the top of your head; such subtle actions that managed to slow your heart rate.
“i’m so sorry,” charles words were whispered, it was what brought you out of your own head; teary eyed peering up at him as you shook your head.
this wasn’t his fault.
“not your fault,” you spoke through a deep breath, starting to gain your composure. still timid, but you’d gotten the tears out.
“it’s not yours either.” charles spoke in certainty, sounding pissed off. because he was. and it made your stomach flip.
it was the bare minimum, but hearing someone be in your corner was exactly what you needed. the fact it was charles was just a bonus.
“i mean it’s more my fault than yours. i didn’t leave you alone, putain, i am sorry,” he began to ramble. the guilt was eating him alive. you’d tried to avoid this ━ he couldn’t help but feel as if he threw you into the lions den.
you disagreed however. deep down, this all felt inevitable. like it was a matter of when, not if. you were so scared of this happening because apart of you knew there was no avoiding it.
“i don’t regret it.” you told him in certainty, hand moving to cup his cheek; offering a sad smile. “it’s just━ not fair.” you mumbled.
his smile mirrored yours, lacking the usual brightness it held as thumb lifted to your cheeks; brushing away the tears staining your skin.
“it’s gonna be okay. i’ll fix this.” charles promised, but it wasn’t a promise he could keep. you knew that, your head tilting aside as you sighed.
his intentions were pure, held your best interest at heart.
“m’ just gonna have to let it blow over.” you told him, taking a sharp inhale. that didn’t answer the question that lingered between the pair of you.
what this was. what you two were.
he nodded ever so slightly, frustration growing at the fact he couldn’t fix it himself. he wanted to help. to rid you both of the outside noise and judgmental opinions.
“but i think━” you’d cut yourself off, you didn’t want to say it.
he knew however, by the way your grip had tightened on his shirt. the way your eyes held sympathy and sorrow. he knew what you were going to say.
“i know,” charles sighed; nodding in reassurance.
this needed to stop. whatever this was, it couldn’t go further. not for now at least; charles knew that.
rumours won’t die down if there is still truth to them.
your bottom lip quivered slightly at the sight of the sad smile he showed you; the way he was so willing to comply.
you hated the fact you both had to suffer, all for what?
“i’ll stay away, i promise,” charles hummed; biting down on the inside of his cheek as he ran his fingers through your hair once more.
you still had no words, because it was the last thing you wanted. yet somehow was what you needed.
you’d like to say to hell with it, to tell him you didn’t care. that you could be together, and figure out the latter.
but today had been hell; you weren’t sure it was something you could get used too.
“thank you,” you whispered out; charles only response was pulling you close once more, knowing when he let you go, it would be for good.
he had to let you go.
but if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us
if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once
charles stayed true to his word.
it was obvious, the way you two steered clear of each other.
talk of you and him died down, the paddock found something else to focus on within a couple weeks; and it was just another story for the history books that would be brought up every now and then.
their was awkwardness in the team however.
their investigation closed with no findings, something you laughed at.
a motivator; to get the fuck out of there.
it paid off, comfortably beating your teammate. dragging the car into the points most weeks.
talks with mercedes was going well, progressing nicely ━ you wanted to emphasise to your manager that charles hadn’t been mentioned once from them either.
but you weren’t going to dwell on the past.
not audibly at least.
charles was a sacrifice you hated making, and it was mutual.
it was cruel, the way you were too scared to meet his eye if cameras were around. scared one wrong move and you’d be jumped on by prying eyes and gossipers.
charles too shared your fear; he didn’t want to put you in a compromising position. and while it was physically painful to cut you off completely, he managed.
none was easier than some, it seemed.
it was laughable, how the pair of you actually believed the avoidance would stick this time. that it would actually work.
couldn’t even make it to summer break, a few months apart was bound to be all you could endure.
monaco, a race you’ll never forget.
your signing with mercedes was announced on the thursday; a milestone in your career, a highlight.
you were ecstatic, nay-sayers and doubters did little to dull your mood ━ nothing would ruin such an achievement.
but it motivated you.
you heard it all before, when you signed with haas. how it was a PR move, not on merit. for the money you would bring in. the commercial value.
it was the same thing, and the need to prove people wrong was always a blessing when you got in the car.
it’d been a wet qualifying, playing into your favour. putting the car into p3 meant everything would’ve had fallen into place. and it did.
you were overjoyed, the smile had not been wiped off your face. you were proving that contract was yours based off your talent.
you went on to hold onto p3 in the race and secure a podium, you were high off adrenaline and excitement the moment you got out of the car.
you’d handled the pressure, failed to make a mistake; blessed to have had your best qualifying at the hardest place to overtake.
the other headline of the weekend?
charles had finally won his home race.
he wasn’t on your mind, not as you shared the podium. or as you faced the media together afterwards.
you cared deeply for charles, but this was your childhood dream. years worth of hard-work had finally paid off. being near him wasn’t hard, for once, because you had way too many things to currently be happy about.
it was civi and casual, friendly; in the cool down room, on the podium; in the interview.
it wasn’t until later that night, on a random super-yacht, surrounded by drunken socialites and f1 personalities that temptation reached you once more.
you’d barely had a drink, being pulled in every way and direction; talking to many that you didn’t have time to sip the half full glass in your hand.
charles knew this; he’d been watching you all night.
his dream had come true, winning in monaco; in front of his home fans.
call him greedy for wanting more as he stood on the yacht, surrounded by his friends as his eyes settled on you.
he couldn’t help but think of the only way to make this night perfect; you.
the praise and congratulations from everyone else was nice, but he was dying to hear it from you.
to congratulate you as well. on your podium. on your contract.
he thought he was over it, the unfairness of it all. but this was a new challenge.
watching as you stood there, hugging everyone. beaming and laughing, as you should.
would it be so wrong for him to congratulate you as well? to steal a couple minutes of your time? he’d promised to stay away, but this had to be an exception.
right?
so charles went against his word, weaving through the crowd the moment you caught a break in conversations.
uncharacteristically dismissing those who tried to speak to him as he set on his way towards you, nothing would stop him.
“hey,” charles made his presence known; capturing your attention; and the way your eyes lit up and lips curved upwards, he wanted to kill whoever had deprived him of such sight for however many months.
“hi!” you couldn’t help but sound surprised, pleasantly surprised.
you’d been wanting to talk to him; which wasn’t anything new. needing to talk to him however, just unsure how to navigate such thing.
“congratulations. sure you’ve heard it all, but you deserve this.” charles words were genuine; smiling down at you proudly, and while you had heard it all the past couple hours; it meant more coming from him. “the contract as well. huge news,” he added.
your nose scrunched up slightly, grinning ━ pure happiness present because you really were oh so happy.
“thank you,” you smiled; nodding appreciatively. “i should say the same to you. i know how much this win means to you,” you spoke; and charles could only smile at the way you sounded so sincere.
“thank you,” his turn to offer thanks, a silence falling over the pair of you.
that was all you should say, all you were sure was excusable.
it was clear, the way you both had so much on the tip of your tongue; too scared to let it out. neither wanting to be the one to crack. to undone all the hard work.
charles so desperately wanted to rant his heart out, remind both you and himself that the past few months had been undeserved torture. and he was convinced he was going to for a moment.
but he couldn’t. he wouldn’t be selfish with you.
“well i’ll see you━” charles had cleared his throat, ready to do the right thing. to walk away, like he promised he would.
but you cut him off. scared if you didn’t tell him now, you never would.
“wait.” you interrupted, pursing your lips; and he was happy to shut up. he didn’t need any convincing to stay put.
“i uh, with my mercedes contract…” you trailed off; biting your lip. “i made it clear, what expectations would be of me. on and off track, obviously. like anyone would,” you rambled slightly; nervously even.
charles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you nervous.
you were nervous because of what you were implying.
you’d made it clear you didn’t want to be held to any individual expectations off track, that your relations with others wouldn’t concern the team if it didn’t jeopardise the team.
you were grateful, how understanding mercedes were. a breath of fresh air really. so much you’d basically outright told them that you didn’t want you and charles to be an issue, if anything were to arise between the pair of you.
you’d figured if you had a team that backed you, handling outside noise and assumptions would be made a lot easier.
“me and you, it wouldn’t be an issue.” you summed up; practically spitting it out. it felt weird, suddenly lacking confidence as you referenced a ‘you and him.’ worried that ship had sailed.
you watched as his eyebrows raised, lips parting in surprise.
he hadn’t expected you to say such thing, the one thing he’d dreamt of you saying one too many times.
“if that uh, you know. ever happens, i don’t know,” you added on; feeling the need to back pedal, not wanting to come off headstrong. it was the reason for your hesitance. you and charles had never discussed what you were, because it never seemed possible.
charles wasn’t sure what to say. his first instinct was to kiss you; because it seemed as if this was the best night of his life, with all his hopes and dreams coming true.
but his care for you trumped all.
“people will still talk,” he couldn’t help but remind softly. not to argue against you, but to ensure you knew exactly what you were implying. he knew the rush you were feeling, first podium. fresh off multiple highs, he didn’t want you to come crashing down tomorrow and regret these words tonight.
he didn’t know you’d already assessed all your options, weighed up the two cons. your mind had been made up, you just needed to bite the bullet.
you’d already been through it, called every name in the book. may as well make it all for something.
“let them.” you breathed out, a shy smile following suit, mischievous almost, quoting him from that night in vegas. you’d said it with confidence, such conviction he knew you meant it.
his smile was bright, practically beaming at you as he nodded. unsure what to do next, but he didn’t care. he liked the way things were looking.
he hadn’t expected you to kiss him, in the middle of the crowded floor, but god he wasn’t complaining ━ hands finding the small of your back as yours wrapped around his neck.
you’d pulled away shortly afterwards, not creating any distance as your foreheads touched.
“if you still want this of course,” you spoke; just above a whisper, realising you hadn’t really let him confirm he still wanted this.
he’d laughed, at the idea alone he didn’t. shaking his head at the thought as he brought his hand up to cup your face.
“all i could think about tonight, was that the only thing that would make today truely perfect, would be sharing it with you.” charles confessed; taking in the way you lit up at his words, watching as any last doubts or fears vanished from your frame.
you were relaxed, happy and carefree; not one bit of energy spent on anyone around you. who saw, who cared; it meant nothing to you.
you giggled as you pressed your lips to his again, passionately this time; charles leaning over you as he held your body close to his, smiling against your pink lips.
it felt incredibly cliche, as if you were the only two people on the yacht in the moment.
he’d murmured something about getting out of here only moments later, you being quick to agree.
patience was something you’d both demonstrated incredibly well over the last year; safe to say you both had none left to spare.
navigating the crowd hand in hand almost felt like a rush, relieving to not care as you followed him off the yacht; giddy like teenagers as you climbed into the back of a car.
he’d barely gotten his address out before you were on him again, lips pressed against his as you gripped his shirt.
charles hand tangled in your hair, revelling in the way your lips felt against his. he’d spent many nights recounting your night together; attempting to cling to the feeling and pleasure it brought. this was ten times better than what his imagination could produce.
the only time you kept your hands off him was the short walk from the car to the elevator of his apartment complex, the moment the doors slid shut you found yourself pressed against the wall ━ his hands gripping your hips and lips attacking your neck.
you became breathless quickly, satisfied hums escaping you; head tilting back to give him as much access as he wanted.
“have i ever told you how beautiful you are mon ange,” charles sighed against your skin; only lifting his head when he heard the doors ring open.
you smiled at him stupidly, taking in the sight. his pretty green eyes, slightly swollen lips and tussled hair. more beautiful than anything you’d ever seen before.
“come on,” you mused with a blush, urging him to head to his room; in quick pursuit.
you’d barley gotten your heels off once inside when charles was snaking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up as your legs wrapped around his waist.
it didn’t feel really; finally able to have you like this.
“gonna make you feel so good,” charles murmured against your lips as he navigated his way through the apartment, hands squeezing your ass which granted a gasp from you. “deserve so much more than a quickie in the bathroom,” he commented.
while your first time together was more than satisfying, it was rushed. muffled moans and chasing release desperately with fear the moment could’ve been ruined in any moment.
tonight you were all his. no need to keep you quiet, no limit to the positions he could put you in.
he sat at the end of his bed; you not taking long to get comfortable in his lap as your lips moved roughly against his; hips grinding as you did so.
“you won,” you breathed out as you shifted your attention up his jaw, teeth catching his ear momentarily as you kissed at the skin of his neck. “let me make you feel good,” you whispered; charles head tilting back as he audibly groaned. “you deserve it,”
charles always loved praise, his ego thrived on it. but god, hearing it from you? his pants were feeling way too tight.
he couldn’t say no to you, not that’d he’d ever want too.
you didn’t give him any time to reply regardless, climbing off his lap and standing between his legs momentarily, hands holding onto his knees as you pressed one lingering kiss to his lips.
sinking to your knees, you were incredibly eager. a scenario you’d play out too many times as your hands got to work in freeing his cock.
charles lips parted as he rested back on his hands, head tilted downwards as he watched you intently ━ biting down on the inside of his cheek at the sight alone.
his breaths only got heavier as you spat in your hand and jacked him off a couple times, hissing as your thumb rolled over his tip.
the sight was better than you could imagine, as you took him in your mouth and watched his head fall back. his clenched jaw, neck muscles and arms flexing as he groaned.
it had your thighs clenching together, not wasting time in bobbing your head; taking as much of him as you could; hitting the back of your throat each time but it did little to deter you.
“putain,” charles grunted under his breath ━ forcing himself to tilt his head back down to watch you work, hand gathering your hair in a makeshift pony tail. and the way his lips curved into a smirk when your eyes met his had your thighs clenching once more.
“there you go pretty girl, taking me so well,” charles huffed ━ noting the way you gagged around him every now and then, yet showed no signs of slowing down. “mouth is fucking heaven,”
his praise only encouraged you further, doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes; tears welling in your eyes.
your hand was holding his thigh for support, watchinf as he busied himself momentarily by ridding himself of his shirt ━ revealing his toned torso flexing with each sharp breath he took.
“pull your dress down,” his words were direct, a clear demand and with him staring down at you like he was ready to ruin you, you didn’t need to be told twice. tugging your dress down to free your breasts.
his admiring eyes raked your body shamelessly, pleasure only increasing from the sight. you were fucking perfect, and he couldn’t believe this was real.
it was as if you caught on to the moment, reading him perfectly as your efforts picked up ━ keen to make him cum.
and by the way he was starting to tug on your hair, you knew he was close.
he came in your mouth moments later with little warning, and you were practically squirming in your place as you licked him clean.
“you’re perfect,” charles breathed after catching his breath, which happened incredibly quickly; signalling you to climb back into his lap.
you giggled as you did so, grinning as you pressed your lips to his once more; straddling him with ease as your hands spread across his toned chest ━ happy to touch him now that he was back in reach.
his hand moved up your leg, pushing your panties aside and cupping your cunt with little warning; causing you to moan into his mouth.
“you’re fucking soaked,” charles spoke, pulling back to watch your face contort in pleasure; watch as you became putty in his hold. “barely touched you yet baby,” he cooed ━ you couldn’t help but whine, hips bucking against his hand as he circled your clit.
he took in every feature on your pretty face, able to live in the moment and not be rushed like last time. make you feel everything he wanted you too.
“who would’ve guessed you were such a slut,” charles mused; practically toying with you. he couldn’t help himself, not when you looked so pretty panting and whimpering in his lap.
“for you.” you whimpered, hand gripping his bicep tightly as your hips moved against his hand; yearning for more.
he grinned widely at that, rewarding your words as a finger pushed past your folds unexpectedly.
“all for me.” charles hummed in agreement, words still slightly breathless himself as his other hand moved to cup the side of your face, making avoiding his eyes impossible. “all mine.”
the statement had your stomach flipping, words you could used to. something you’d know a long time, but hearing it out loud was so refreshing.
you were his. he was yours.
“please charles,” you whined out impatiently, his toying with your cunt felt good; but you need more, your thighs a painted mess along with his hand by now.
your plea had him hardening again, words sounding so alluring coming from your lips.
“what do you want mon amour?” charles spoke through a breath, eyes gazing over you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. because you were. “tell me, i’ll give it to you,” he promised; thumb grazing your cheek; such a delicate action that didn’t correlate with his thumb teasing your clit expertly.
you whimpered again, cheeks a tint of pink as your eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but they found charles gaze once more.
“all of you,” you spoke. “wanna feel you,” you sighed; his cock was pressing against your inner thigh ━ not helping with the urge to feel him inside you.
his lips curved upwards, pleased with your answer; and unable to deny himself any longer either. you’d both been through enough torture, he wouldn’t be delaying this any longer.
“want me to fuck you yeah?” charles paraphrased for you, hand leaving your cunt to find your waist; lifting you off his lap with ease and laying you beside him.
he was hovering over you within seconds, leaving you to nod eagerly below him. your hands found the hem of your dress, tugging it up and over your head as if that would help entice him.
but he didn’t need any help; he doesn’t think he’d last another second without being inside you.
he slid inside you without another word, your gasps intertwining as your own head fell back against his pillow; eyes fluttering shut at the stretch.
he gave you a moment to adjust, his head falling into the crook of your neck; light kisses peppered on your skin, a contrast to the way he was about to fuck you.
your hands tugging on his hair told him you wanted more; thrusting into you slowly and deeply at first, your mouth fell agape at the angle it hit ━ moans beginning to fall from your lips.
“charles, fuck,” you mumbled ━ fingers moving down his back, sure to leave marks as he gradually picked up the pace.
his thrusts got quicker, but not softer; fucking you into the mattress, all you could do was whimper and moan ━ eyes rolling back at the pleasuring sensation.
“so perfect for me,” charles grunted; the way you were squeezing him was better than he remembered, keeping his focus on your own pleasure because if not, he’d probably cum within moments.
“oh my god,” you all but practically squealed when he moved your leg over his shoulder, feeling as if he was splitting you open; you bit down on your lip to try shut up the now constant sounds.
charles wasn’t having a bar of it however.
“ah, ah,” charles breathed; hand moving to tap your cheek. “wanna hear you gorgeous girl. every fucking sound,” charles told you; eyes pouring into yours which made it clear he wasn’t joking.
you nodded weakly, on cue charles delivering a harsher thrust that had you choking out a moan once more.
it didn’t take long, for you to get brought to the edge; stomach growing tight as your eyes rolled back once more. cumming without warning, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling.
a moment of weakness for charles, watching as you shook beneath him and screamed his name; squeezing him suddenly, he almost came too. he didn’t though thankfully, because his focus was still you.
you weren’t prepared for him to not relent, instead feeling his hand snake between your bodies and find your clit, eyes flying open.
“o-oh,” you gasped, the onslaught of pleasure hard to cope with as your hands gripped onto his back tightly, nails digging into his skin as he smirked down at you.
“take it baby,” charles grunted; eyebrows raising momentarily. “too much?” his question was teasing, and he couldn’t help the breathy chuckle when you shook your head; scared he’d stop. you didn’t want him to stop.
you weren’t sure you could take it, but you were going to try. you’d do anything for him when he was touching you like this.
“so good,” you moaned; tears welling in your eyes quickly from the overstimulation, body jolting with every thrust which hadn’t relented.
his stamina impressive, having not slowed down nor gotten sloppy as he pounded into you.
you were struggling to keep your eyes open now, lost in the pleasure. but charles wanted to watch you, and wanted you to watch him as you pushed you over the edge once more.
“look at me baby,” charles grunted; pinching your clit lightly which had your eyes flying open, meeting his. “gonna watch me as you cum again yeah?” charles told you, his own breaths heavier now as he struggled to not let himself revel in the feeling of you.
you nodded, again, like a broken record; all your effort focused on watching him as your face contorted in pleasure. maybe even a tear or two fell, the familiar feeling washing over you again suddenly as he delivered another harsh thrust. and another. and suddenly it was as if he found new energy somewhere.
you all but screamed his name as you came again suddenly, coming undone on his cock. he was close behind, unable to resist with the way your walls squeezed him again.
your heavy breaths filled the room as charles helped you both ride out your highs, before sliding out of you, he remained above you regardless.
he was looking at you in awe, hand pushing some of your hair away that had gotten stuck to your forehead, earning a lazy smile from you in return.
“i could get used to that,” your words broke the silence; eyes flickering to his lips which gave charles the hint to place a kiss on your lips, a delicate one unlike those shared earlier.
he’d chuckled at your words afterwards, humming in agreement as his hand ran up and down your side comfortingly.
“me too,” charles agreed with a grin; pressing yet another kiss to your lips, a longer one this time; passionate and slow. enjoying the moment. the peace of it all.
when you pulled away moments later, you practically beamed as you urged him off of you; moving to straddle him instead.
you had a lot of time to make up for.
━━━━━
a/n: oh she’s bACK BACK CHARLES FIC YAY
hope u liked, still rusty lol i don’t rlly like the smut but i did enjoy writing the angst hehe
unedited sorry i’ll get to that later like usual oOps
as always feedback is always greatly encouraged and appreciated, means the world to me so pls share ur thoughts 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
Charles has been frustrated with the team's strategies and the results he's been getting lately so you find a way to cheer him up
Note: english is not my first language. I was going to write it earlier on the week, but then I felt like I a jinxing it so I stopped... but after today, I think it's a good place to start...
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions Jules Bianchi
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
Another race weekend where he was out qualified by his team-mate left Charles with the feeling that if it came to it, he was almost one hundred percent sure they would ask them to swap positions.
Points for the team would be important anyway and they came away with a good amount and the car showed to be competitive enough considering the RedBull dominance on the grid, but the frustration was still there.
With the team and with himself.
They told him they'd keep him - there wasn't a quesion put down about his contract -, Il Predestinato wasn't something he carried lightly but often times it was confusing. Without the support and appreciation from inside the team, it was proving difficult to achieve their goals.
His childhood dream was driving for Ferrari and Suzuka always carried a heavier weight for him. As he took off his helmet and was faced with the number 17 on the side, he apoligised. To Jules, who he wanted to make proud every day but even more on this particular track. To his fans, who deserved better than this. To you, who were there for him, arms open for a hug and a shoulder where he could cry and let his feelings out on, to hold him and remind him every single time that all of the nonsense commentators and the media still had the audacity to say about him despite his continous shows of intelligence, skill and talent, and to love him.
The way you loved him was something he had never felt before and had never thought he deserved.
The face you were giving everyone in the garage that dared look at you wasn't unfortunately a rare occurrence, hence the fact that so very few team members approached you, "Charles is just finishing his interviews, he should be here soon", Silvia said before excusing herself from the garage.
You walked to your boyfriend's driver room, knowing he would end up in there soon enough after greeting the mechanics and engineers.
He stepped inside the room less than fifteen minutes later, finding your embrace immediately as his arms wrapped around your waist, "it's not fair that this keeps happening", he mumbled.
"I know it isn't", you kissed his stubbly cheek while rubbing his back soothingly.
"I thought I could've done so much better, for the fans, for you, for Jules", he hiccuped, letting himself be vulnerable after bottling up everything he was feeling.
"You did us proud, Charles - he is always so proud of you", you cupped hisface in your hands as you hoped the words got through to him, "okay?".
The flight back home had Charles sleeping most of the time, the whole rush of the weekend catching up with his body as he slept with his head on your thighs, your fingers playing with his locks while you arranged your schedule for the week ahead.
"I was thinking we could spend some time together today", you said over the phone, hoping he hadn't booked anything since you made sure that Andrea and Joris had cleared his schedule so you could make this happen without a hitch.
"You don't have work?", Charles asked, "no, I arranged a few things and a meeting got cancelled", you explained.
"Good, I don't have anything to do either, I was just going to stay home, but being with you sounds much nicer, my place or your place?", he wondered.
"My place, please", you replied immediately, "I just want to change my clothes and I'm feeling like spending the afternoon in", you tried, hoping he would catch on and not mess up your surprise.
"Okay, amour! Do you need me to pick you up from work?", Charles asked and you heard a small smile on his face. You weren't sure why, but Charles really got a kick out of dropping you off and picking you up from work, so you felt bad for the answer you were giving him, "it's okay, you can meet me there, I'm already walking", you said as you drove out of the shop and headed home. It was an inoffensive lie but you kept telling yourself it was for a greater good.
"Okay, I'll meet you there in twenty minutes or so", he said, "Je t'aime, mon amour".
Riccardo seemed to have parked the car at the front of your building, making you get the bag out of your car trunk and join him and his family, "hey guys! Thank you for coming to this", you smiled, touching Chiara's foot softly and getting a giggle out of the little girl.
"No worries, this is such a nice idea and we're happy to help!", Marta said, letting you walk up to the door so you could get to your apartment.
"For the first time in my life, I'm the first one somewhere, and then they showed up too!", Joris said as the rest of the group you invited stood up from the hallway floor.
"I'm sorry for making you wait, but I had to pick these up and then the call with Charles had to be done at the precise time so he wouldn't get here before I did!", you explained, unlocking the door and letting them in.
"So we're fine to wait, but Charles can't wait for you?", Joris teased, making kissing noises as you shook your head, "privileges of being my boyfriend - it is what it is!", you chuckled.
Delegating the small tasks you left for the last minute, Charles' text saying he had just parked the car was enough to capture you attention, "quick quick, go hide in the living room - careful with the board game boxes! He's coming up!", you ushered your friends to the living room before your boyfriend knocked on your door.
"Hello, my love", you said, kissing his lips and pulling him inside the supposedly quiet apartment.
"Hey, gorgeous girl - I missed you", he squeezed you tight once you closed the door, "I was getting in my he - what's that?", Charles asked as a noise came from the living room.
Chiara squealed loudly enough for him to hear, so in part your surprise was not such a surprise, "you're not alone?", he mused.
Lacing your hand in his, you pulled him to the living room as everyone jumped out of their places to greet him!
"Surprise - ish!", you waved your hands as if you were announcing some great show, "I gathered all your favourite people - Lorenzo is coming with Charlotte in a bit, he just picked her up from work and your mother also had a cliente so she'll arrive a little later. Arthur is in the bathroom?", you wondered as you saw him walk out and pat his brother's back, not missing the truly surprised look on his face as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, "you're the best, amour, thank you", he whispered.
You had food laid out in the coffee table and drinks in the kitchen where everybody could serve themselves so you could have your dining table available for the board and card games you were playing along with some building blocks for Chiara who was immediately stolen from her parents once your boyfriend saw her.
"Do we want to make a castle? Or maybe a rollercoaster?", Charles mused with the little girl sitting on his lap, still keeping an eye on his Monopoly game to make sure no one was missing any of the payments on his properties, "Good job, chérie!", he congratulated her, kissing her chubby cheek.
"Do you want me to get you guys anything? I'm already going to the kitchen", you wondered, "can you fill this up for us, please?", Marta asked as she handed you the orange juice jug, "yes, of course!", you grabbed it.
"This was a great idea, Y/N", Lorenzo said whole he poured himself a drink as you stepped into the kitchen, "he's been in his head a lot recently", he began.
"It's not much, really, it was quite easy to put everything together and you being here was very kind", you brushed it off.
"Y/N, gathering his favourite people to do something he loves apart from racing may seem simple but it's what he needs right now - don't underestimate yourself or the ability you have to bring him back to a good mental space", he rubbed your shoulder before going back to open the door, "it's our mother", he excused himself.
You set the jug on the table and took Chiara from your boyfriend's arms, volunteering to change her nappy in your bedroom.
Charles hugged his mother tight, "Hello, mon petit", she cupped his face and kissed his cheek, "I'm not little anymore", Charles blushed, "you and your brothers will always be my little boys, I don't care how old or how tall you get", she smiled, greeting everyone else in the room.
His favourite people were all in the same place, Charles thought. Some were playing cards, some were just chatting and you just picked his friends' daughter to change her nappy like she was your own.
"Do you have room for one more? I'm usually pretty good at this!", Lorenzo said as he sat at the dining table, "you take my game - it's not too bad, just make sure Marta pays up what she owes me - two hotels in my blue cards", Charles raised his eyebrows, "I know you were counting on your daughter's cuteness to distract me, but I have excellent vision", he smirked.
Charles walked to your bedroom, seeing you close the diaper bag as Chiara kicked the air, layed on top of your comforter and giggling at the story you were telling her, "and then I had to tell the lady 'that won't do, because I have my boyfriend's family and our friends over for dinner and I can't have too little food! Even if I have left overs for weeks!' because that's what's right, right? She also had this very fluffy bread that was still warm from the oven so I asked her if she could add that because I knew you'd like it - bread is the best, isn't it, cutie?", you spoke.
You were it, he had known that for a long time.
You were the one he wanted to grow old with and go through every challenge life wanted to throw at you, because he knew you both could face them if you were there.
"And who is that spying on us, hm? It's Charles! Let's go and give Charles a big hug and many kisses!", you smiled, picking her up and approaching your boyfriend, cuddling into his chest as you kept the little girl on your arms, kissing his chest while Chiara palmed his face and giggled when Charles pretended to eat her fingers, "yummy fingers, nom, nom, nom".
"I need to get started on dinner - I'm doing that roast you really like", you offered, "I already prepped most of it, just need to cut up the veggies and then put in the oven, simple as that".
"C'mon, Chiara - I bet my mother is wondering where you are because she'll want a cuddle", Charles took her from your arms, "I'll be back for you", Charles slapped your butt playfully.
You were seasoning the food on the trays, making sure you weren't forgetting anything when your boyfriend walked up to join you, wrapping his arms around your waist, "thank you for this, I really needed it", he kissed under your ear, turning you around to face him and kissing your lips properly, "it's fine", you scoffed.
"No, I really needed it - it's easy to lose sight of these things and these moments", he began, "I was home and getting way too much into my own head and I wouldn't got to anyone unless they asked about it", he admitted, squeezing your body closer to his.
"I'm glad you liked it, it's truly nothing but I'm glad you're happy", you smiled, "I can't control what goes on your mind all the time but I'm going to make sure that whenever you're near me and say silly things about doubting yourself, I will always help you see the truth and work it out with you - no down talking about yourself when you're with me, understood?", you stated firmly almost like you were lecturing him.
"I know, amour", he giggled, kissing your forehead and then littering some more kisses on your face and making you break out in laughter loudly.
The dinner was great and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves as they ate the meal and spoke about whatever came to mind, summer plans already in discussion.
Charles was helping you put away the plates when he decided he would voice the thoughts running through his head. Usually at this time of the day he was already knee deep into strategies and failed attempts, but this time was different.
"I want this every day", Charles said with a big smile on his face.
"Well, not all of us have your schedule, it would be lovely, but maybe making it a weekly thing? Monthly maybe with your schedule?", you tried, not wanting to kick his idea straight to the trash.
"I don't mean that - I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I was wondering if you'd like to move in with me", Charles clarified, "there's no point to keep two places when realistically, we spend most times at eachother's place - you're down to what? Sleeping two nights here per week?", he noted as you smiled.
"You want to move in together?", you checked and he nodded, "yes, I do - honestly, I've thinking we keep my place since you're renting here and that way you'd be closer to work, too", he suggested.
"Sounds good to me", you smiled, kissing his lips, sealing the deal.
"I don't want to be far away from you when we don't have to be, and this way you can save on rent, too!", he added and before you truly lectured him, he caught you ahead, "I know you won't let me pay for things on my own and we will find some arrangement for that, I was just saying you won't have to keep paying your landlord", he smiled.
"I mean it when I say I want to split expenses, okay?", you argued, "unless you start going with expensive caviar or any of that crazy expensive stuff - my salary can't take that", you joked.
"When have you ever seen that in my fridge?", he threw his head back as he laughed.
"I'm only joking, handsome - I can't wait to move in with you", you hugged him, "I love you, Charles, can't wait to be your new roomie".
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