#maritn

“In reality or in my head?” Because they are different things right now. Plus, Martin hadn’t been able to be there for Lando’s first win— had missed it by a race— so he has a few ideas in mind now.

Lando hums, letting out a quiet grunt when Jon must stretch a less-than-loose muscle. “Go on, give me your ideal outcome, and I’ll tell you if it’s too out there.” He tips his head to the side enough to fully catch Martin’s eye. There’s a genuine glint that greets him— like Lando might very well agree to whatever Martin says. He can’t help but laugh to himself.

Martin flicks his gaze up to Jon.

“Mate, as long as it’s not about your literal sex life, I don’t care what the hell you two talk about while I’m here. You should know that by now,” Jon laughs. 

In that case. “If you must know, I would sprint down to parc fermé with the team. And then I would kiss you in front of all the cameras. Everyone else gets to do it, why not us?”

Lando’s eyes somehow soften further. “Is this in a universe where we’re already out?”

Martin shakes his head. “No, it’s in this one. Just finally put the rumors to rest.”

“Well, who knows, maybe I’ll be so high on success that I’ll let you do it.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but Martin can tell Lando is actually thinking about it. He’d practically told Kym Illman to fuck off earlier, but here Lando is contemplating concretely outing them. Martin almost pushes himself out of his chair to crowd Lando against the table, Jon’s presence be damned.

“Guess you gotta win then.”

The part Martin doesn’t love as much about watching Lando get ready for a race is that he can tell when the nerves start to set in. Never too much but enough that means he’s aware of his mortality even as protected as they are. He watches as the twitch in Lando’s jaw gets a bit more defined, watches as he wipes his hands down the front of his suit more often, and swipes his hands around his neck and face while he thinks through his strategy. As the seconds tick by, Lando chews a bit more at his thumb.

They’re about to finally leave the hospitality building and cross over to the garage when Martin shoots his hand out to Lando’s shoulder to prevent him from following Jon so closely. Lando turns a questioning look on him but doesn’t pull away.

“Hang back for a second, yeah?”

He nods, Jon leaves, and then it’s just the two of them surrounded by temporary walls with a gradually growing din of noise just beyond.

“What’s up?” Lando asks first. Martin almost doesn’t hear him because he gets sidetracked watching Lando’s tongue dart to swipe at the corners of his mouth.

Martin shakes himself out of it because now is not the time. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Take a second to breathe because I know you forget to in the buildup.”

Understanding dawns on Lando’s face, and he smiles softly. He steps closer, reaching up to pluck Martin’s hand off his arm and holds it for himself. “Thank you for the reminder. Believe it or not, I still get a bit more nervous with you around than I should. You’d think I’d get over it after two years.”

“What? Really? For what?”

Lando shrugs, looking sheepish. “I don’t know. At first, it was because you were so cool, you know? Knew my name… wanted to hang out with me... Then it was because I had a stupid crush, and now I think it’s because I don’t trust myself not to do something stupid.”

“Are you saying I’m no longer cool?” Martin asks in exchange for not unpacking all of that right now. Plus, Lando doesn’t have to know he harbors his own anxieties, particularly at the race starts.

“No, you’re actually very lame, if you must know.”

Martin scoffs and pulls Lando into as tight of a hug as he dares. He fits his hands across Lando’s shoulder blades and tucks his face into Lando’s neck like they so often do. Lando only takes a few seconds to respond in kind before he’s gripping Martin’s just as tightly. The warmth of Lando’s body is overwhelming as usual, the weight of his hands comforting as they rock back and forth for a few moments.

“You’ve got this,” Martin whispers fiercely into Lando’s skin. And I’ll still kiss you if you come second or third, if you want. I think either of those will also get a big reaction from people.”

Lando gently knocks his head sideways into Martin’s and chuckles. “Don’t tempt me or I might actually do it.”