#quadrant fic

You huffed, and started to get out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower."

"No, baby, I'm just kidding."

Max grabbed hold of your hand before you even fully got to your feet. He tugged you back onto the mattress, pushed you down and hovered over you.

"You're too late. The moment is gone," you said.

"I'm sorry."

He tried to kiss you but only got your cheek when you turned your head to the side.

"Baby, don't be like that. C'mon."

He kissed your neck and your breath caught in your throat because you were just a girl. You were just a weak girl when it came to Max.

"I love you," he said into the skin of your neck.

"Hm," you pretended to consider it, "Apology accepted. Lay down, drama queen."

You pushed at Max's shoulder and he let you get on top of him. You grabbed a hair tie from the nightstand to pull your hair back with.

Max let his hands slide under your shirt—which was actually his shirt, which was why he was only in his sleep shorts at the moment. He freely let himself feel you up as you tied your hair up, squeezing your thighs and hips, your ass and up to your boobs.

"You've got to stop groping me if you want me to give you a blowjob."

"But you know how much I love groping you."

You laughed and pulled his hands out of your shirt. You intertwined your fingers with his, leaned down to kiss his nose.

"You're really making it seem like you don't want me to suck you off."

"I never said that."

You kissed the knuckles on each of Max's hands before shimmying further down the bed, pulling the blankets with you. Soon, the only sounds in the room were Max's sighs of pleasure and the lewd, wet noises coming from your mouth.

Then, someone with the spare keycard to Max's hotel room unlocked the door and entered without knocking.

"Max, mate, the plane's leaving at ten, not eleven, apparently. I tried texting you in the group chat but—what. The. Fuck."

Thank god Lando was a naturally loud individual, giving just enough time for you to sit up and wipe your mouth, for Max to pull his shorts back up. You both faced Lando with similar caught expressions, still tangled up in bed together but thankfully without your lips currently around Max’s dick.

"Are you actually kidding me? My sister? What the fuck, mate?"

You jumped in to try and defuse the situation before it escalated. "Lando, just wait a second. Let me explain—"

Lando cut you a harsh glare. "I'm not fucking talking to you. We can talk about you acting like a slag later."

You drew back, more than a little hurt at your twin's words and the tone in which he said them.

"Don't talk to her like that," Max stood up for you.

"That's really what you're worried about right now?"

"That you're calling your sister a slag? Yeah, it is."

"What the fuck is going on? You get busy with the one girl that has always been off limits and you think you're some sort of knight in shining armor?"

"Let's just all wait a second. Yeah? Let's just take a breath."

“Shut up, Y/N.”

“Lando, if you think—“

“Please don’t argue, Max—“

“He’s being a fucking dick to you, Y/N—“

“I’m being the dick? You’re shagging my sister—“

“That’s no excuse to talk to her like that—“

“It’s not like that—“

“How long has this been going on?”

“Lando, just listen—“

“Ten months.”

You close your eyes.

“TEN MONTHS!”

The flight back home was going to be a long one.

.

“You really don’t have to come.”

“Do you not want me to?”

“No, I do but… Lando is going to be there.”

“And you don’t trust him not to cause a scene?”

“I don’t know if I trust either of you not to get into a shouting match in front of our parents.”

You were already dressed and ready to go to your parents for dinner. You sat on the bathroom counter as Max finished getting ready. He was fixing his hair, the last step before he would be done, also.

You watched as the gentle, concentrated furrow in his brow deepened to one of anger. “He called you a slag, Y/N. I don’t care if he’s your brother; that’s not okay.”

“He said I was acting like a slag—“

“Same difference.”

“—and he didn’t mean it. He was just caught off guard. I did go behind his back…”

“Don’t paint him as the victim. Admittedly, we probably should have told him sooner but that doesn’t mean he gets it be a dick about it.”

Max momentarily abandoned his hair to squeeze your knee.

“You have to stop making excuses for him.”

“He’s my brother.”

“And he has always walked all over you. When was the last time he properly apologized to you for anything?"

“Max…”

This wasn’t the first time Max had brought this up and every time, you deflected or excused everything Max tried to shine a light on. Lando was Max’s best friend but he was your brother, your twin brother. You had never not known him.

Lando was integral in who you were as a person. You were made as a pair. You grew up as a pair. You had always had each other. He was your built in best friend. You always had his back, no matter what.

If you were a pushover, if you let Lando tease you and speak to you in ways you’d never let anyone else, if you tolerated things from him you that you shouldn’t, then that was your decision.

Max didn’t understand that. He didn’t seem capable of understanding the complex workings of your relationship with your twin. You would do anything for Lando, regardless of what it would mean for you, and you were fine with that.

That was how it had always been: Lando, the showman, and you, the supportive sister. Even back when you were karting together, Lando was out front and you were playing defense to protect his position.

You celebrated his victories more than you ever celebrated your own but that was fine. He was your brother and you loved him.

“Okay, fine. Whatever,” Max relented on that front. “But this is a step too far. He doesn’t get to act like a petulant little kid because I’m dating you. Calling you names and running away to Monaco when he’s meant to be filming with Quadrant. He’s being ridiculous.”

Some part of you knew the punishment of Lando ignoring you for the past month didn’t fit the crime of not telling him you were dating Max. The bigger, more conscious part of you felt like carving “traitor” into your forearm with a steak knife and hoping the pain would make your brother forgive you.

Your messages to Lando had become a wall of blue, full of apologies, begging to let you explain, attempts at striking up a conversation like normal, asking if he had meant to cancel your plane ticket to the Azerbaijan Grand Prix followed by even more apologies and then congratulations on a race well done.

You played with your fingers the whole car ride. Max reached over at one point after you had started picking at your cuticles to kiss the back of your hand and hold it the rest of the way, making idle talk that did nothing to distract you from what you were headed towards.

After Lando found you two in Max’s hotel room and the ensuing argument got heated on both of the boys’ sides, Max stayed with you for a few days. When he finally went back to his and Lando’s London flat hoping to talk things out before filming for Quadrant, Lando had cleared out.

He posted a rather passive aggressive Instagram story a few days later about “real friends” featuring some other F1 drivers all holding padel rackets. Max had not been happy when he found you torn up over it, shedding tears over the fear that you had lost your brother.

You had always been sensitive. Quick to cry, quick to care, quick to get attached, quick to get hurt. Lando poked fun at you for it your entire lives but he was also the first to jump in and defend you whenever anyone else said anything to you.

Lando’s distance over the last few weeks hurt. Like, physically hurt. You would see something that you thought he would find funny and go to text him about it just to remember he was giving you the silent treatment and your chest would hurt for the next several hours as you waited on a reply that never came.

Despite it all, when you saw Lando stood in the kitchen with your mom, the first time you had seen him in over three weeks, you couldn't help but smile.

He was halfway to returning it, as if on instinct alone. Then, he noticed Max at your back and his face fell devoid of any sort of pleased emotion. Your own smile fell, chest starting to ache again.

“Y/N darling, there you are.” Your mom came over to hug you and kiss your cheek, then did the same to Max. “And Max! Your best be treating my girl right.”

"Of course, Mrs Norris."

"Stop it with that; I've told you to call me Cisca."

"Mum knows?" Lando said. "You already told mum? Did she know before I did?"

You drew a sharp breath. It was difficult to talk to Lando when his tone was both wounded and accusatory.

"She called me not long after you boys had your spat," your mom explained, "Told me all about her and Max and I couldn't be more pleased. I always knew you fancied him, Y/N, even back in your karting days."

"Muuuum," you groaned, embarrassed even if Max already knew how long you had been crushing on him.

Max laughed and kissed your cheek. "The Shield fancied me."

"Shut up."

“The Shield” was the cringe-worthy nickname that karting media outlets had given you back in the day on account of how difficult it was to overtake you. So much of your karting career had been defense for Lando but you always felt a little victorious whenever you made a boy mad about getting beat by you simply because he couldn't get around you.

You could have gone far in racing if you hadn't quit after a single season of F4.

Lando gagged at Max's display of affection.

Max zeroed in on him, eyes sharp and mouth opening to call him out. You caught his shirt between your fingers, silently reminding him that he had promised not to start a fight. He looked mighty unhappy about it, but Max let his chest deflate and followed you into the dining room to help your other siblings set the table.

Ten minutes later, you all sat down to eat.

This was not the first time Max had dinner with your family. It had become such a common occurrence that it didn't cross any of your minds that your typical seating arrangement had your dad at one head of the table, your mom at the other, your older brother and sisters on one side, and you, Lando, and Max on the other, in that order, always with Lando between you.

Even dating Max, you didn’t think to sit next to him because that was Lando’s seat. It didn’t even cross your mind that it might not have been the best decision to sit your twin next to his best friend who had gone behind his back to date you for months without telling him but it was too late for that.

Lando was the last to sit down after going to retrieve the forgotten napkins. You considered swapping seats last minute as he hesitated over the dining room threshold, then thought better of making a scene and resigned yourself to a torturous dinner without being able to hold Max's hand through it all.

After getting caught by Lando, you had told your mom about you and Max. She had obviously clued your father in but you weren't sure which of your siblings knew the full extent of what went down when Lando found out.

Oliver and Cisca seemed oblivious enough, even if they were casting confused glances at you, Lando and, Max, trying to figure out why the three of you weren't speaking to each other. However, Flo was keeping an awfully watchful eye on your twin and boyfriend, as though waiting for the show to begin.

Table talk was casual and nearly pleasant. With Lando uncharacteristically silent beside you, and Max refusing to so much as look at his best friend, you couldn't fully enjoy spending time with your family while they were all together.

Max caught your eye behind Lando. He gave you a smile, one you couldn't quite return. Lando leaned back and got in the way of your eyeline to Max. You turned back to your food, continuing to pick at the delicious pork your mom had cooked but not able to enjoy it.

"Max, what of you?"

"Sorry?" Max was about as clueless to the conversation at hand as you were.

"Do you have plans to visit Monaco any more this year?"

They must have been talking about the trip your parents and youngest sister would be taking to Monaco during Cisca's summer break. You had planned on taking time off work to go with them, as well as with Max later in the year, closer to the end of the F1 season to attend a few races and help film some Quadrant content.

"Are you and Y/N going sometime together, possibly?"

It was a harmless enough suggestion from your mother. She probably only wanted to try and get Lando and Max to say a word to each other.

Then, despite having already agreed to house both of you later in the year, Lando said, "They haven't mentioned anything."

You really were not enjoying this dinner.

It was getting harder and harder to have all your siblings in the same place as you all got older. Only Cisca lived at home now and she was going off to uni in Manchester next year.

You missed when being with your family was easy, when you didn't even have to think about it. You missed your childhood bedroom that was now the second guest bedroom, your and Lando's bunk beds long gone.

You missed your brother terribly, even if it had only been about three and a half weeks since contact was cut. You didn't want to lose him to something like this but at the same time, you couldn't imagine letting Max go.

Max made you so happy. Couldn't Lando see that? Couldn't he see how in love you were? Couldn't he accept your and Max's relationship for the sake of not wanting to lose his twin sister and best friend?

You would do anything for Lando. You had given up so much for him. You supported him at every twist and turn of your lives. You just wanted things to be okay again.

"Y/N darling, what’s wrong?"

Your mom’s question was quiet, meant to not attract anyone’s attention. But Lando and Max were both quiet, too, in unsettling amounts from the two of them. They both looked at you just in time to see you wiping at your cheek.

"I'm fine."

Except you weren't fine. You were sad and nostalgic and sick of feeling that way and now you were all teary. You just wanted a nice dinner with your family where the two men you loved most in the world acted normal and you didn't start randomly crying at the dining table.

Lando put his hand on your arm. "Y/N/N, are you alright?"

Like his touch finally shook loose something inside you that you had been holding back since the hotel argument or maybe even longer, you rounded on your twin brother.

"No, I'm not alright! How could I be alright when you're acting like this?"

Lando immediately threw his walls back up, going on defense. "You and Max went behind my back."

"And that means you get to throw a month long hissy fit over it?"

"You've been dating for ten months!"

"It's actually eleven, now, mate."

Lando turned to shoot a glare at your boyfriend. "Shut up, Max."

"Stop being a dick, Lando! Just stop! Yes, we should have told you sooner. Yes, I'm sorry you found out like you did. But that doesn't mean you get to treat me, treat us like this."

"How am I supposed to react?"

"You're supposed to get over the initial shock and be happy that two of the people you care about are happy together."

(On the other side of the table, Cisca leaned closer to Oliver. "When did Y/N and Max start dating?"

"I think he said eleven months ago."

"That long and they haven't told us?"

Flo shushed them both. "Shut up; I'm trying to watch.")

"How am I meant to be happy about you two lying to me for the last year?" Lando demanded.

"I have been trying to apologize and talk to you about that for the last month and you haven't let me! You ran off to Monaco, ditched your Quadrant responsibilities, and left me thinking that I'd ruined things forever. That's such a dick move, Lando! Fuck—"

You were crying again. You wiped angrily at your cheeks, wanting to be taken seriously and get your point across but it was difficult when you had tears running down your face.

"You can't just ditch me like that when things get rough. It's not fair when I've been there with you through everything. I have never not supported you. I have always been there for you. I quit racing so that you wouldn't get passed over. But the second I do something you don't like, you can't give me even an ounce of support in return."

"What do you mean you quit racing so I wouldn't get passed over?"

Your chest went still, blood running cold. Shit. Shit shit shit, Lando was never meant to know about that. You had never planned on telling him. Never ever. Not even when you were old and saggy and there would be no consequences. You were meant to take that secret to the grave.

"That's not what's important. I don't understand—"

"What did you mean, Y/N?"

You gulped. "It's nothing. It was a long time ago, anyway. It doesn't matter."

"Y/N."

.

"Me? You want to sign me?"

The Josef Kaufmann Racing representative grinned at your bewilderment. "Yes, you."

"No way. Are you serious?"

"Completely. It obviously won't be set in stone today and we'll need to speak with your parent or guardian but Carlin would be lucky to have you on our roster next season."

"Oh my god. No way!"

You had been worried about next season as all the 2015 series were nearing their ends and you had yet to have been scouted by any teams. Your contract with Mücke Motorsport was coming to an end after this season but now you had been offered a seat in the next level of racing, at the same team your brother was in talks with, no less.

"Oh, this is great! Lando and I will still be on the same team. You know, my brother and I have always walked about being on the same F1 team. That would be crazy, obviously, but this is just like that but on a smaller scale."

"We'd not be giving your brother a seat."

Your excitement was gone in an instant. "Sorry?"

"Lando wouldn't have the seat in Formula Renault. It would be yours, instead."

"You're offering me... my brother's seat."

"That is correct."

Just like that, you let your career die. "I don't want it, then."

The rep blinked at you. "What?"

"Give the seat to Lando. He's who you want. He's the better driver. He has always finished before me."

"He would not have if you were not defending his position. Josef Kaufmann would rather have you driving for them next year."

"I don't want the seat. Give it to Lando. I was planning on quitting racing, anyway. Sign Lando for next year. He'll do well for you."

.

"Y/N, what the actual fuck?"

You ducked your head. "Don't blow it out of proportion."

"You gave away you entire racing career at the drop of a hat because you didn't want to take a seat that I hadn't even been signed for yet? You— Why would you do that?"

"Because you're my brother."

Behind Lando, Max was staring at you, wide-eyed. All around the table, your family openly stared at you in shock, not quite able to believe the real reason you had suddenly dropped out of racing.

The reason you had given was that you had gotten bored of it. That you had only ever gotten into it because of Lando. That you didn’t want to constantly be in competition with your brother. That when Lando got famous, you didn’t want to be his lesser racing counterpart.

There may have been some truth in those excuses but the whole truth was this: you had been offered the seat Lando was negotiating for and you would not take it from him. You loved racing; you did not love it more than you loved your brother.

“Y/N, I… I honestly don’t even know what to say.”

“You could start with an apology,” Max offered.

“To both of us,” you added.

Max leaned back in his chair. “I’m good back here. Worry about me later.”

“No, she’s right,” Lando said. “I’ve been a real dick to both of you over the last few weeks. You guys didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve always had Max as my chosen best friend and you, Y/N, as my built in best friend but then you guys started getting closer. Then, I found out you’re together and it’s like, what do you need me for if you have each other?”

Any anger you may have been holding onto melted into sympathy. “Aw, Lando—“

“You are so fucking thick, mate,” Max cut in. “You think I’m going to treat my girlfriend the same way I treat your dumbass? I need a platonic best friend just as much as I need a romantic one.”

You laughed at the face Lando pulled.

“If you start referring to us as your platonic and romantic best friends, I’m fleeing to Monaco again.”

“It’s too late. It’s already started, platonic best friend.”

“Eugh, this is terrible. Go back to being awkward acquaintances, please.”

“I love her, mate. There’s no going back from that.”

You loved Max. Wholly and truly you did. How well he got along with Lando was just the icing on the cake, another thing to add onto the list of reasons you were stupidly in love with him.

Your lovesick expression must have been quite obvious because suddenly Lando was shoving your head to the side with a hand over your face.

“Oh my god, don’t look at him like that—I’m gonna barf.”

(Oliver had gone back to his food.

Cisca was still watching, confused. “Wait, so Y/N and Max have been dating for eleven months and not even Lando knew? Why?”

“Apparently, it was an oversight.”

Flo speared an asparagus. “This is better than any TV show I’ve watched all year.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Oliver said.

“I’m the only one enjoying this the correct amount. I’ve been waiting for Lando to stop cockblocking Y/N and Max since 2014. I am allowed to be entertained by their drama.”)

“Can we circle back to the whole quit racing because of Lando thing?” Max asked, “Because what the fuck, babe?”

“You quit racing, too!”

“Because I was burnt out, not because I would rather throw my entire career away than make my brother momentarily unhappy while other teams jumped at the opportunity to sign him up.”

“It’s fine! I mean, look at where Lando is now. Season number five of Formula One! It all worked out in the end.”

.

“Are you really okay with us being together?”

You stood outside with Lando and Max after dinner had finished up. Your parents were loading the dishwasher, Oliver was driving off down the street, and Flo was finishing up doing something with Cisca inside. The three of you were finally able to talk privately.

Lando was quiet for a while after your question. He still seemed a little hesitant but it wasn’t anywhere near how he had reacted in the hotel. He glanced down at where you were holding Max’s hand, then looked away, still thinking.

“You’re not allowed to have sex while I’m in the flat,” is what Lando eventually decided on saying.

Max, unimpressed, said, “It’s a bit late for that, mate.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands.

Lando yelled his displeasure quite loudly. Max just laughed at him, not at all apologetic.

Even if your face was burning, at least you knew things would be okay. You had your brother back. Max had his best friend back. And Lando had both of you back.