“Where’s your hotel?” Lando asked, his eyes locked on Daniel’s mouth.
“About fifteen minutes by car,” Daniel replied, the words heavy on his tongue. It was starting to get hard not to stumble over his words, especially with the way Lando was staring at him.
“That’s closer than mine,” Lando said, eyes flicking back to his mouth.
Daniel swallowed. “Do you want me to call an Uber?”
Lando looked back up at his eyes. “Do it.”
OR: The one where Daniel and Lando were inevitable.
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(f1 rpf race roll for japanese gp 2025, P2 and P5, replaced P5 (George) with an ex driver as per the rule of the week -> Lando Norris x Daniel Ricciardo; chat fic ish; crossposted on ao3)
Circles
Lando gets Daniel's message when he's in the cab with his assistant hours after his P2 in the Japanese GP, so he has a moment to actually look at it. He tries not to be too embarrassed about having been left on read last time he texted him.
Oh, Lando was sure Dan had "loads to do" during the Melbourne race week. "Loads" probably being Max. It's not like Lando hadn't seen the videos of them playing paddle, Max still laughing himself to the floor over Daniel's jokes, even after all these years. Of course Lando would always lose out to Maxy. He couldn't even say he was disappointed or surprised.
Lando's about to type his thanks and move on when Daniel sends another message right away.
It throws Lando right into a caughing fit. Not only is that a fucking strong thing to say but also its blatantly not true. He wonders if Daniel really thinks that or if he just says it to tease him or maybe to absolve himself of some guilt.
Besides that, Daniel has to know that Carlos isn't fucking him, because if Carlos was fucking him, he wouldn't be fucking Charles, and Daniel can't seriously think that, despite old times, Max would still put up with him if Charles was on the table. He doesn't say that because he's not mean like that.
Lando doesn't– Lando's not hung up on Daniel. Hell, he's not even really hung up on Carlos and that was something else entirely. Daniel's just a good lad and then also everyone is a little bit worried about how he's doing, so Lando genuinely just would've liked to hang out for a bit. And whether it's Daniel, or Carlos, or whatever, it just fucking hurts sometimes to never be anyone's number one.
Oscar, is what his brain supplies at the same time as Daniel suggests Oscar, too, ignoring Lando's subtle accusation.
Lando thinks of kind eyes and exasperated laughs and blushed cheeks. Of neverending strings of funfacts and those fucking dainty hands. Oh how he wishes. That's definitely not what he wants to tell Daniel, though.
The reply doesn't take long and it's exactly what was to be expected.
Lando shoves his phone into his bag, turning his attention to the itinerary his assistant wants to go through. Bloody Australians.
His phone vibrates again when Lando's about to go to sleep hours later. He picks it up from his nightstand on the offchance that it's not just another congratulatory message.
Well, this is definitely a surprise. Lando scrolls back up, rereads the I think this is your season to get past Max line, that probably should've alerted him to his assumptions being off right away. And fuck, maybe Danny is right.
Lando gives him a thumbs up reaction and closes his eyes. Maybe it is.
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