#requested!

It was a muggy, grey late-September morning. Hugging your windbreaker closer, you took another hit of the cigarette as the familiar maroon Beamer whipped into the store parking lot. Steve stepped out, swiftly running his fingers through his already mussed-up hair. Yet no matter how many times he seemed to mess it up, his hair always seemed to fall perfectly into place. An annoying little detail you first noticed when you met him two years ago, yet it had grown into a familiar sight. 

“Sorry for the delay. My alarm…” He tossed you a smile that begged forgiveness while carding through his key ring. There was still a touch of tiredness in the gravel of his voice.

You simply shrugged your shoulders, tossing the cigarette butt to the ground and crushing it with the toe of your shoe, “ ‘s fine, Keith knows you’re the one with the key anyway.”

Steve finally unlocked the door and held it open for you. His brown eyes flicked over your frame in concern as you moved inside, “I thought you quit smoking.”

“Just bummed one of my mom,” You called back as you shrugged off your jacket, “Don’t sound so concerned.”

While you made your way to the front counter, Steve was only a few steps behind, “But I am concerned for you— I mean, for you and Max. Between moving and school. Plus, it’s been three months since Bill—”

“I really don’t need a Steve Harrington pep talk right now,” You swiftly cut him off, the familiar Mayfield glare halting him when he attempted to continue. 

Steve swallowed down his words, brown eyes falling to the floor. You couldn’t tell if it was discernment or disappointment, but you didn’t care to find out. He just nodded and tried to brush it off, “Right, I’m gonna go get everything turned on in the back.”

He prodded into the inventory room, leaving you to set up shop for the day. 

— — —

October came, and with it, the first winds of the cold. Your mother’s drinking habits had become progressively worse. Max had freshly dumped Lucas and shut herself off from the world, while you were just trying to coast through your senior year of high school. Homecoming was around the corner, and you made a pact with your little sister to stay home and watch Top Gun instead. It was better than being stuck outside in the bleachers, watching the popular athletes and their girlfriends flaunt their idealistic relationships. 

It was Thursday night before the big game. Robin had begged you to come at least watch the marching band’s halftime performance. You explained to her that while you would love to come support her, you and Max had plans. When she couldn’t convince you, she simply thanked you for covering her shift at Family Video tonight while she had band practice. You brushed it off, merely explaining that you need the money anyway. 

You’re working with Steve that night, and it’s surprisingly dull for a Thursday. Usually, you’d have at least a family or two, maybe some young people picking out a date night flick, but this evening had only presented a series of returns. The most excitement you had was some asshole knocking over a cardboard stand-up when you informed him that Family Video did not have an adult section at this location. 

“I’m just saying that we could probably close, like, thirty minutes early and everything would be fine,” You attempted to convince Steve while shelving a stack of returns. 

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes, “No, it would be just my luck that Keith or some customer comes by and we get caught.”

“Wow, you’re losing your rebellious teenage flair,” You smirked in his direction and shrugged, “Fine, I’ll just leave you to it. Punch out for me when you leave.”

You started to take off your uniform vest and make your way to the backroom. Steve slid around from the counter and blocked your path, “Why are you so eager to get home?”

“I like being home,” You shrugged in reply. 

Steve’s brow furrowed, “Uh, yeah, right. You’ve never been a homebody, Mayfield.”

“Well, I’m just tired. Long day,” Your tone had a slight trace of defensiveness in it that Steve immediately latched on to.

He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly not convinced, “So you and Max are just planning to be hermits forever?”

“What?” You scoffed, “Don’t sound so ridiculous—”

“Cut the crap,” Steve held his ground, “Lucas told me all about how Max broke up with him when he came over to practice for basketball tryouts. And then I had to find out from Dustin that you dropped out of the Yearbook Committee.” 

Your posture straightened at the silent accusation in his voice, “So you’re using the party to spy on Max and me? Don’t be such a stalker.”

“Yes, because we’re worried about you two,” Steve’s frustration boiled over, his large hand raking through his hair, “I’m worried about you.”

You steeled yourself, eyes cutting down to the ground as you remained nonchalant, “Yeah? Well, I don’t need your pity or your worry. We’re fine, Steve. I’m fine.”

With that, you brushed past him to exit through the back and biked home.

— — — 

November had been the worst month. Mom nearly got a DUI, while Max had pulled entirely out of any extracurriculars. You were trying to forge a path ahead, a way out of Hawkins, which meant all your free time was spent on college applications. The school counselor and admins seemed to coddle you and Max, and it irked you in different ways. Ms. Kelly told you that it was okay to consider a gap year and that it might be an easier transition to stay in Hawkins and find a full-time job. You, however, thought it was bullshit. 

“I just can’t believe that she thinks that I can’t go to a nice college away from this hellhole,” You seethed to Robin and Steve while rewinding another tape. You didn’t tell them everything, but you didn’t mind confiding in them with the little things. “I’m not holding out for Emerson or Notre Dame, but I could at least get into Tech. Any idiot can get into Tech.”

You missed the way Steve’s stance stiffened. Robin tossed him an apologetic look because she knew you hadn’t met it like that. It was supposed to be just a statement, not an attack on Steve. 

While ignorant of their silent conversation, you ejected the tape from the machine and returned it to its sleeve. You swirled around in the chair, quite a few tapes in your arms, “Like, what does she want me to do? I don’t want to take a gap year, only never to leave Hawkins. I mean, who in their right mind wants to stick around here after graduation?”

Without a word, Steve dismissed himself to the break room. You shot him a look of confusion, eyes shifting to Robin once he was out of sight, “Is he on his period?”

Robin smacked her hand over her forehead, “Mayfield… I need you to rewind and think about everything you said in the past five minutes.”

Your brows knitted together in contemplation. 

“Wow, you really— okay,” Robin sighed, and gestured towards the door Steve had left through, “You totally just back-handed Steve.”’

“What? No, Robin, c’mon,” You huffed but thought through your earlier sentiment, “I didn’t mean it like that. It wasn’t supposed to be an insult to Steve. He’s figuring out what he wants from life. I know that I want to go to college.”

The remainder of the shift held a strange tension. You didn’t know whether to apologize or simply act like the whole thing never happened. 

— — — 

December was uncharacteristically quiet. Mom had told you and Max that she would be working Christmas Eve and Christmas Day for the overtime pay. Max informed you that she wasn’t in the spirit for decorating, or shopping, or anything really. At this point, all your college applications were completed, and you didn’t have anything else but work to occupy your free time. You accepted every shift offered whenever a co-worker mentioned spending the holidays with their family or wanting to go ice-skating or stare at Christmas lights. The only downside was that it meant more time with Steve and his own persistent silence…

It was a quiet Thursday night, and the same night as the Hawkins Tree Lighting, which meant zero customers. You were unsure why Keith simply refused to close shop early, but you didn’t press him. If you had to be stuck with Steve for another agonizingly slow hour and get paid for it, then that was just what you were going to do. 

You were in the Kids section, placing tapes back on the shelves while Steve remained at the counter. He continued to click through the tv channels, refusing to put on another holiday flick after the last one finished. You swore he was at least on his third rotation through the channels. 

“What are you even searching for?” You finally broke the silence, your irritation reaching its peak. 

Steve sighed and leaned back against the countertop, “Hmm, I figured that the tree lighting might be on the local news.”

With a roll of your eyes, you marched back over to the counter, “We live in Hawkins, Steve. Channel four doesn’t drive out to hick-ville unless there’s a crime, a conspiracy, or both.”

He shot you a glare from across the counter, “Well, sorry for trying to bring a little joy to your shift. Do you even remember what that is? Joy, fun, happiness?”

Your brow furrowed at his jab, “Yeah. I do. But there hasn’t exactly been anything to be happy about lately, has there?”

Steve scoffed and turned the TV off, “Huh, sure. But you’ll get an acceptance letter from some fancy college soon, and just leave the rest of us idiots behind. Probably just run right back to California.”

Your posture straightened as the subject reverted to your frustrated rant from the previous month. You swallowed down your guilt, just hoping to make it through the conversation without fanning the flame, “I didn’t mean it like that, Steve. You… grew up here, and you like Hawkins, most days. I was forced to move here with my mom, and her shitty new husband, and his shitty son…”

Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself to continue, “It’s never been about going back to California or leaving Hawkins, I…”

Steve heard the crack in your voice and instantly knew you were trying to apologize and bridge the gap between you. He quickly rounded the counter, but stopped just a couple of inches from touching you. He didn’t want to press his luck. So he waited for you to continue opening up. 

“I want to live without this… anger. Ever since my parents started fighting, I’ve just been so angry every day,” You hand shook as the words kept pouring out, “It got worse when they divorced, worse when my mom met Neil, worse when we moved here, worse when Billy died, worse when I cut you off, worse with Max shutting me out; it just keeps getting worse and I’m starting to wonder if I even deserve better.”

Sometime during your little rant, your shaky hand latched onto Steve’s for stability, rather than the counter. Your eyes trailed up to meet his, where he looked completely prepared to whisk you out of Hawkins himself. He remained silent while pulling you against his chest and into a tight hug. And somewhere in that silence, you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes before burying your face into Steve’s chest, allowing them to flow freely. 

He could’ve hugged you for five minutes or five hours. Time seemed to move differently when his large palms rubbed soothing circles against your back, “You deserve the world and more. You deserve every drop of love and more. You deserve to feel peace. You deserve happiness…”

Your face nuzzled against the scratchy fabric of the green Family Video vest, drying your cheeks. A small sniffle escaped you, cracking Steve’s heart open a little further. With a tremble in his bottom lip, he continued, “And… I still want to be the one to show you happiness… to give you some semblance of peace.”

A sentimental smile teased at the corner of your mouth. You cocked your head to the side and released the breath you were holding, “I don’t know if I can give you the same things.”

“That’s okay,” He quickly replied, “I don’t need you to be perfect or at your best. I just want you back. That’s enough for me.”

His words sank in, but you knew that they were more desperate than truthful. He didn’t realize that there would still be trouble ahead, where you shut him out again. Still, you didn’t call him on it. Instead, you rested your head against his chest once more, hugging him closer — your silent answer.

Option two, always a proven winner.

“An event?” You repeat, pressing for more information. Lando rolls onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow.

“Right, it’s more of a gala. Black tie, formal wear, all that shit. Will you come with me?”

“Am I allowed to ask what for before I give my answer?”

Lando’s whole face scrunches up, lip curling up on one side as he thinks. “M’not sure, actually. A charity, most likely. Charlotte told me it would be best if I brought someone along.”

“Then why don’t you take Max?” You’re only half joking with the suggestion, and he lets out a sharp laugh, throwing his head back.

“I would, but Max isn’t as effortlessly charming as you. Or as pretty.” He grins boyishly, tilting his head to the side, batting his eyes. You fight an amused smile of your own. “Look, don’t tell him, but you’re my best friend, yeah? I thought it’d be much more exciting if I got you to come with me instead of being bored out of my mind all night, third wheeling Oscar and his girlfriend.”

“Oh, so you’re asking me to be your pity date.”

“Exactly. You get it.” He yelps when you jab your socked foot into his ribs, getting this look in his eye much like a kicked puppy. “I’m kidding, my god, you violent one. I’m asking you because you’re the only one I’d have fun with if I have to be meeting and greeting and kissing ass for hours.”

“That’s surprisingly nice of you to say, Lando.”

“Thank you, I really—wait, surprising? What d’you mean surprising, I’m a very nice person!”

“Yes, of course you are.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “I feel like you’re not being sincere, but I’ll let it slide this time because I need you. Are you saying yes, you’ll help me out?”

"I dunno…seems pretty painful to sit through."

"Please?" His lower lip juts out, hands clasped under his chin. You never could last very long before giving in to his pleas.

"Yeah, alright, fine. You know what they say—misery loves company, and all that.” You wave around an aimless hand. “But I need to get a dress. I don’t think any of the ones I have are gala worthy.”

“Yes! Yes, of course, buy a dress, buy five dresses, whatever you need! Use my card.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

Lando leans in closer, eyes gleaming. “Buy whatever you want. On me.”

“You sure do know the way to a girl’s heart.”

He shrugs, winks at you. “So I’ve been told.”

That makes you roll your eyes playfully. You're no stranger to the narrative of his irresistable charm, but you know better.

Yes, Lando is charming, but it isn't his charm that made you fall in love with him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. His ability to remain the person he was before the fame and money. How, really, he's just a normal, flawed, extremely dorky guy who happens to have one of the most high profile jobs in the world.

After everything, he's still Lando. He's still the boy you fell in love with.

Lando reaches out and bumps your cheek gently with his knuckles, smiling genuinely as he rolls himself off the bed and heads for the door. "Seriously, thank you. I owe you one."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I want something expensive."

"Oi, try not to break my bank account, yeah?"

"I'm sorry, are you not a gazillionaire with nineteen cars living in a tax free haven for the super rich?" You call after him, only teasing.

Lando's head pokes back into the room immediately. "I only have sixteen cars, thank you very much!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Sixteen cars, of course," You correct, holding your hands up in mock surrender.

His nose and brows scrunch adorably as he sticks his tongue out at you. "You're so mean to me! I'm going home."

"Don't forget to lock the front door on your way out!"

"I forgot my key one fucking time!" He huffs, scowling. You break into a cackle at his utterly outraged tone of voice. Having these feelings for Lando makes poking fun at him all the time even better. "I'll text you the details soon, and…thanks again. It'll be fun, I promise."

"I'll take your word for that."

Lando shoots you one more heartstopping grin before disappearing from sight, and you hear the door slam shut in the distance soon after.

Sighing loudly, you flop back onto your bed spread eagle, staring up at the ceiling.

What in the world have you just gotten yourself into?

-------

You manage to keep your deal with Lando under wraps for all of twenty four hours.

But in your defense, coffee and pastries with Lily is the perfect opportunity to get in a good yap session, and maybe some advice. She's been busy playing in golf tournaments across the world the last few weeks, so you haven't seen her in far too long.

“I may have done something bad,” You blurt, even before Lily has a chance to put the cups down.

She raises a brow at you, warily curious, and rightfully so. Your being in love with Lando for this long has been the topic of conversation between the two of you (sometimes three if Alex is around and eavesdropping) many times.

“Uh oh. What happened, babe?”

“Lando asked me to be his date to a gala and I said yes.”

Her perfect brows fly sky high. “Whoa! Date, like date date???”

“Yes? No? I don’t know. I don't think so. More like he didn't want to go alone.”

"And he asked you…why?"

"Said it'd be more fun with me than anyone else."

"And you believe him?"

Your shoulders creep up towards your ears before dropping down in a shrug. "Yeah, I do, I think. He always complains about being bored out of his mind at these things, I figured he just wanted some company to make the night a little less painful."

Lily doesn't say anything, just picks up her matcha latte and takes a sip. She might not have said a word, but her eyes speak volumes.

"What? What's that look?" You whine. She shakes her head. "Lils, just tell me what you're thinking."

"Are you actually going to listen to me this time?"

"Yes!" She raises a brow, and your nose wrinkles. "Okay, maybe. What is it?"

"He likes you."

"No, he doesn't."

"See! You said you'd listen and you aren't. I don't even know why I bother at this point!"

"Because I make your life better and you love me."

"Yes, that, but, you're kind of blind when it comes to Lando. He's your best friend, I get it, but there's something there. And I know you hate to hear it, but that's just what I see. Alex agrees."

"Oh, does he now?"

Meanwhile, in a padel court across town, Alex Albon sits on a bench lacing his trainers tightly. Lando sits on the court in front of him, stretching out his hamstrings in a poor attempt at touching his toes.

"I might've done something bad." Lando's sheepish voice has the taller man looking up curiously for him to continue. "I asked her to be my date to an event."

"An event?" Alex repeats, squinting. "Like, a work thing?"

"Yeah, like, a charity gala."

"Oh my god, a gala? Mate, you didn't."

"I did."

"And did she say yes? I'm assuming she did."

"She agreed, yeah. I'm excited, I just…I really don't want to mess anything up. You know how I feel about her," Lando sighs, tossing a padel ball in hand.

Alex's lips press into a sly smile. "Oh, I'm well aware."

"So, what do I do?"

"Be a good date? I dunno what to tell you, mate."

"Fucking obviously I'll be a good date!"

"Lando's got a date?" George's voice comes out of nowhere, startling Lando. He has to fight the urge to groan, because George Russell is a notoriously bad secret keeper. Half of Monaco will know soon enough, he's sure.

Alex grins wickedly. "Sure does, and guess who it's with?"

George pauses a beat, hand on his hip, head cocked to the side. Alex raises a brow at his friend, sending a silent message. Then, "Oh my god, really? Finally?"

"Fuck off, how'd you know?"

"Buddy, everyone knows. Except her, apparently."

Lando groans, slapping the ground with an open palm. "Was this a bad idea?"

"Do you not want to go with her?" Alex asks. Lando wrinkles his nose.

"Of course I do," He says. No hesitation. Good. "I've actually had dreams about it. They always ended with—"

George interrupts before he can get any farther, holding up a firm hand. "No! No, we do not need to hear about how your dreams of the girl you're in love with end, thank you very much."

"Not like that, you muppet! I just—" Lando sighs, dragging his hands back through his hair. "I thought our first date would be different. I thought I would've been man enough to actually tell her how I feel about her instead of hiding behind a fake date."

"But it's not a fake date though, is it? It's not like you made up an entire gala just to get her to go out with you," Alex muses, shrugging. Then he zeroes in on Lando with an expectant stare. "You didn't, right?"

"Of course I didn't! It's a real thing. I just didn't tell her I didn't actually need to bring a date." It's true. He didn't lie, but he also didn't tell you the full truth.

"Then you're fine, mate! Quit worrying and let things fall into place the way they're meant to be!"

"And finish up your stretching, we've only got the court booked for an hour," chimes in George, waving his racket in the air. Lando rolls his eyes at both of his friends and climbs to his feet.

Nothing to distract himself from the consequences of his own actions than beating them both at padel.

Not two hours later, Lando's phone buzzes with a message.

Carlos: You finally ask her on a date and I have to hear it from Alex? I thought we were friends, cabrón.

Lando actually groans out loud this time. He'd expected George to be the blabbermouth, not Alex. And Carlos isn't good at keeping secrets either.

So much for it being under the radar.

-------

The days before the gala pass by surprisingly quickly. Before you know it, the day is upon you and you're nearly ready to go. You've set up shop in Lando's guest bedroom.

Your hair and makeup are as good as they're going to get without a miracle, and your dress is on.

Well, almost on. No matter how far you stretch your fingers, you can't reach the zipper at the back.

"Are you done yet?" Lando calls from another room. He'd probably finished up getting ready ages ago, the bastard. "I've already watched the plant on my kitchen counter sprout flowers and then wilt. Twice."

"Almost!" You reply, ignoring his sarcastic wit. "Can you come here?"

Footsteps sound out and get closer, and then you see Lando step into the doorway through the mirror in front of you. If you weren't nervous enough, the sight of him looking devastatingly handsome in a sleek black suit certainly doesn't help.

“Mind giving me a hand with this?” You ask sheepishly, shooting him a helpless look. “I can’t reach the zipper.”

“Skill issue,” He snickers, though he doesn't hesitate in padding over to you to help. The way his eyes drag their way down your body, taking in the silhouette of the dress with some look in his eye you can’t quite put your finger on, isn’t lost on you.

You clear your throat slightly, and his gaze snaps to yours, cheeks flushing a little pink at the prospect of getting caught checking you out.

“This—erm, it’s a nice dress. You look really…nice. Good choice.”

“Must be if it's got you staring at me like that. Close your mouth, Lan, you might catch flies."

"M'not—I'm not staring, I'm—I'm just admiring what I paid for, that's all."

"Sure, you are."

"I am!" He insists. A red flush is starting to creep up his neck, one that you can't help but snicker at. He sees this and huffs, rolling his eyes. "Shut up."

You open your mouth to poke even more fun at him, but then his fingers brush the small of your back where he goes to take hold of your dress zipper and your voice dies in your throat. Even the softest touch feels like a volt of electricity along your skin, a golden tattoo zipping its way along your body, even more so as he drags the zipper upwards.

Part of you thinks he's going slowly like this on purpose, torturing you just because he can.

In the mirror, you can see him behind you, lower lip drawn between his teeth with his brows furrowed in the utmost focus. Surely doing up a zipper doesn't require this much focus, but you won't complain.

When he gets to the top of the dress, you're expecting him to let go, to step back and tell you he's done, but he…doesn't.

Instead, gentle fingers trace along your upper back, along your shoulder and down your arm to the crook of your elbow. Lando's chin dips down towards the back of your shoulder, so close you feel his ragged breath ghosting over your bare skin.

Before his lips make contact, he freezes. Then his eyes flick up to yours in the reflection and he gives his head a little shake, blinking a few times.

"You're all good," He mumbles, mouth pressing into a tight smile.

You turn around to check out the zipper for yourself, and find yourself closer to Lando than you expect, not more than a foot of space between the two of you. Your breath catches in your chest at the look in his eyes.

To put it plainly, he looks like he wants to devour you.

If you were bolder, you'd let him. But you aren't, so you focus on something else.

"Your tie is crooked," You note, trying hard not to sound too choked.

That breaks the charged moment immediately.

Lando groans. "What? Damnit, I thought I got it right this time." He nearly goes cross eyed trying to look at the knot at the base of his throat, fiddling with it to try and straighten it out, unfortunately with no luck. "Would you mind?"

Wordlessly, you readjust the knot to its perfect place with shaky hands.

You aren't sure what makes you tug him closer by the smooth material, especially when you'd just ruined the same moment mere seconds ago. Your body seems to be doing whatever it wants despite the alarm bells going off in your brain.

Lando's your friend. Your best friend. The one who knows you almost as well as you know yourself, who's been by your side through every heartbreak, every mistake. Through every earthquake that has shaken your life, he's been the one constant that's kept you tethered when all you can think to do is run.

You can't ruin what you have right now for what could possibly be. It's selfish of you for the thought to even cross your mind.

"We should go," You say abruptly, stepping back. Lando rocks forward on his feet just the slightest bit as if he wants to follow, but he refrains. "Wouldn't want to be late."

He lets out a deep breath, shoulders straightening. "Definitely would not want that."

"I'll drive?"

"Yeah, right. Don't make me laugh too hard, I'll crease my shirt," He snorts. "Alright, let's go. I've got some people to schmooze."

The ride to the gala is short, not nearly enough time to give yourself a mental pep talk, and before you know it, you're there.

"Stop overthinking."

"I'm not," You insist, tearing your eyes away from the swarm of flashing cameras just outside the car. Crowds are inevitable when it comes to events like these, but that doesn't mean you have to like it. Lando doesn't look like he believes you one bit. "Alright, fine, maybe a little."

He slides a palm over your knee, thumb rubbing a few comforting swipes. "Don't worry about them. Just focus on me."

Then he's gone, slipping out of the car with the practiced ease of someone who's done this many times before, only to reappear around your side a second later.

You hesitate when he pulls open your door, only a moment, but Lando smiles reassuringly. "You got this," He mouths, holding out his hand.

You trust Lando with every fiber of your being. You trust that if you fall, or stumble, or make a complete fool of yourself, he'll be right there with you. It's just always been that way.

So, despite every part of you telling you to run away, that this isn't your place and you're above your head, you put your hand in his.

Your senses feel magnified by a thousand as soon as you step outside the car. You feel the focus of a hundred cameras turn on you immediately, the glare of their lights turning the grand staircase entrance blinding.

Through it all, you feel Lando's hand tight around yours. He has the other one at the small of your back too, guiding you towards the building quickly but calmly.

Your eyes stay trained on the ground in front of you, but even that doesn't stop your heel from getting caught under the hem of your dress before you've had the sense to pull it up.

Maybe floor length wasn't the way to go for tonight.

And that's just fucking great. You aren't even in the building yet and you've already embarrassed yourself.

Lando's already on it before you can even blink, stooping down to fix it with gentle hands. He gets the silky material unstuck and straightens back up in one smooth motion. You're almost amazed.

This Lando is far different than the one you know. Then you realize, he's been trained this way. Trained to maintain a perfect facade, to problem solve and recorrect on the fly because it's his reputation on the line.

"All good?" He murmurs, eyes searching yours.

You manage a quick nod and a grateful squeeze of his arm. "All good."

Before you know it, you're inside. It's much calmer than all the clamor outside, but somehow, it doesn't bring you any comfort. If anything, it feels much more daunting.

Lando nudges you with an elbow. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Not bad? I nearly ate shit."

"But you didn't."

"Yeah, only 'cause of you," You chuckle. "I didn't know you could be so smooth."

"That is rude! I'm extremely smooth, if you must know," Lando gasps, dramatically offended. When all you do is raise an unimpressed brow, he scowls. "Oh, shut up. C'mon, let's go inside. Charlotte'll have my head if I show up late. Again."

The moment you walk into the vast room, you're taken aback at just how many people are here. It suddenly occurs to you, you're probably the most uninteresting person in this place.

Lando sucks in air between his teeth, grimacing slightly. "Shit, sorry, I've got—I need to go for a second."

"Lando—" You hiss, panicked. He can't possibly be abandoning you right now, when you've quite literally just gotten here. It's like leaving a baby seal alone right in the middle of pack of killer whales.

"I'll only be a few minutes, I promise, and if anyone comes over, just be yourself and they'll love you."

He's already stepping away before you can say another word, arm falling from where it'd been curled around your waist. You glare at him, but all he does is shoot you a reassuring grin and a thumbs up as he backpedals away.

You recompose yourself, chin up and shoulders back like you belong here. Like you're not sorely out of your depth.

Still, you can't help but notice the whispers and stares aimed your way—both in Lando's absence and when he inevitably makes his way back to you. They only grow when he's his usual self towards you as the night stretches on, but you don't bring it up with him. It seems silly to. You've been part of his life long enough to know this is normal for the people he chooses to spend his time with, and he has bigger things to worry about than what people are saying about you.

Later on, you find yourself in the company of Oscar and Lily, glad to finally see some familiar faces among the sea of side-eyeing strangers whilst Lando is off chatting up more potential sponsors.

"So, Lando finally told you his big secret, huh?' Oscar says jovially, grinning proudly.

Your head tilts in confusion. As far as you're aware, Lando didn't keep secrets from you. He never has, always saying he trusts you with anything and everything. And as far as you're aware, that hadn't changed.

"Erm, sorry—what?"

"A little offended I had to overhear someone talking about it instead of getting the news myself, but hey, better late than never."

Again, you ask. "Oscar, what are you talking about?"

Lily gives Oscar's arm a little tug and a look that screams stop. "Osc, maybe we should talk about something else?"

His features wrinkle in such a way that makes you feel like you're missing a large chunk of information. "That you and Lando are dating. I was wondering when he'd finally tell you."

"Oh! We're not—" You pause, brows furrowing. "Wait. Tell me what?"

"That he has feelings for you."

And all of a sudden, the world flips upside down.

You inhale sharply. "Um, sorry, I need to—"

You don't think you even finish your half assed excuse before you break away from the conversation. Your head spins with an entire barrage of thoughts, one after the other, after the other, until they all start to jumble together but one.

Lando has feelings for you. Or, might have feelings for you, depending on how much trust you put in Oscar Piastri a few champagnes in.

Either way, this changes everything.

Either way, your relationship will never be the same.

Off to the side, you half see Lando stepping away from whatever conversation he'd been in, eyes glued to you as you hurry out of the hall as quick as your heels can take you. Which is to say, not very fast. You've barely made it down the corridor when he calls after you, but you don't stop, you keep walking.

You only stop when you're pulled to one, Lando's fingers wrapping around your wrist. Not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to put a stop to your escape plan. You turn to him, eyes hard, jaw tight, and his brows furrow.

"Where are you going?" He asks, clearly confused. There's something cautious swirling in his eyes too. Worry.

"I need some air."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"I was just talking to Oscar."

The corner of Lando's mouth quirks up into an amused half smirk. "Fun conversation that was, I bet."

"He told me something."

"Was it about turtles? 'Cause I keep telling him—"

"He said you have feelings for me, Lando," You blurt.

The expression that crosses his face would've been comical had you not been grappling with the realization yourself.

A tic goes off in Lando's jaw. He drags a hand forward through his carefully styled curls, ruining them by scrunching up the front part in his fist tightly. "He—fuck, he said that? Just now?"

You can't help but let your voice waver. "Is it true?"

All this time you've spent silently pining, desperately waiting for him to see you the way you see him, it's killing you. You're trying your hardest to hold back from him, but you don't want him like a best friend. You want more, you've wanted more for ages now.

And now, to find out he might want the same thing as you…it feels like some sort of cruel prank.

"At the beginning of all this, you said you owe me one, so I'm cashing it in now. You owe me the truth, Lando. Is what Oscar said true?"

Lando's mouth opens, closes, opens again. Then he jerks his head in the direction you'd been headed, expression unreadable, hands shoving into his trouser pockets. "Still wanna get that air?"

"You still haven't answered my question."

"I will. I promise. Just…come with me?"

And so you do. You follow him until he reaches a set of glass doors that lead out to a balcony, through those doors out into the nippy British air. Part of you regrets not bringing something to cover up from the chill, the other part welcomes the coolness against your hot skin.

Lando wanders away from you, towards the edge, and braces his elbows against the stone railing.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" He asks softly.

You scoff, shaking your head. "Way to change the subject."

"No, I'm not, I'm—hear me out, please?"

"Fine. Yeah, I remember. Max's birthday party. You were bald."

Lando lets out a snort. "I wasn't bald. My hair was buzzed. Which I did for charity, might I add. And you had bleached hair, so I wasn't the only one with a questionable hairstyle."

"What was wrong with my hair?" You huff, crossing your arms. He shakes his head.

"Nothing. You looked…fuck, you were still the prettiest girl in the room. And I—I'd never really believed in love at first sight before then. Always thought it was just one of those stories people told without any actual truth in it, to like, make them feel better about themselves, or something. But then I saw you, and everything I'd convinced myself didn't actually exist just poofed away," He says quietly, not looking at you, but out into the darkness of the night. "And I've spent every day of every week, month, year, ever since then telling myself to ignore my feelings, to just…be your best friend, because that's all I'd ever be. But I'm tired of pretending. I'm in love with you. I always have been."

All you can do is gape at him, unmoving, unreacting. Because what the fuck are you supposed to do when the boy you've been in love with for ages actually tells you he feels the same way about you?

This is uncharted territory, all of it.

It feels foreign—this realization that you could finally have him in all the ways you've wanted. Not just his friendship. All of him. You didn't think the day would ever come, and now that it has, every word you've wanted to say to him has disappeared from your mind.

The chatter from inside seems louder even from this far away, as does the sound of traffic from down below in this thick silence. You're staring at Lando and he's staring right back at you now, waiting for a response.

Then he says your name, and it feels like everything just stops. It's never sounded nicer coming from anyone else than him.

You blink. He's still looking at you, watercolor eyes wide with hope. Or confusion at your sudden mute state. Most likely both.

Your mouth opens, but still nothing comes out. Lando shifts on his feet, gaze growing less and less hopeful with every second that ticks by without you saying anything.

"I am quite literally baring my entire heart and soul to you right now, but sure. Take your time. I'll just be shitting myself over here."

Words won't do your feelings justice, but you know what will.

You grab him by the elbow before he can begin to make his defeated retreat, pulling him back towards you. Your lips crash against his before you can really even register what you're doing, hands tugging at the front of his suit jacket to bring him closer to you.

It doesn't even take a second for Lando to kiss you back with just as much enthusiasm, if not more than what you're giving him. He kisses you like he's been waiting ages to, finger splaying across your back to bring you even closer.

There's that zip of electricity racing through your veins again, that flickering burn that begins under his palms and spreads like wildfire. You've felt it so many times before and always willed the feelings to go away, but now…now, you don't have to anymore.

He pulls back after what seems like forever but still not long enough, putting enough space between the two of you to catch your gaze.

"Please tell me that meant what I think it means," He murmurs, breath coming in short pants. His tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously.

"What do you think?"

"Just humor me."

"You're really gonna make me say it?" You chuckle, smoothing a hand down his tie. Lando pinches your side gently with expectantly raised brows. "Oh my god, fine! I love you, Lando. I think I always have, I was just…scared. I still am."

"That's okay. I'm scared too. Like, borderline shit my trousers scared of fucking this up. But we'll figure it out, slowly. Together. I know we will."

"You're hot when you're confident."

He kisses you again now, this one wildly different from the last. This one is hungry, passionate. Less like a confession of love and more like desperation from waiting far too long.

"Jesus, this fucking dress," He groans, breathless, fingers tracing the hill of your hip almost shaky. "I can't even think straight anymore. If we weren't here right now, I'd take it right off you."

"Why do you think I bought it, you muppet?" You hum against the shell of his ear, dragging a hand over his broad shoulder and up around to cup his jaw.

His head tips forward, nose pressing into the crook of your neck as a shaky exhale escapes him. "Fuck."

"Leaving now doesn't sound like a bad idea, does it?"

"It sounds perfect. But we can't. Not yet, there's some sort of award I've got to give out."

You huff quietly. "Can't Oscar do it?"

"If I could get him to do it alone, I would, believe me."

"I'll bribe him," You insist. "Unrelated, but can I borrow your credit card again?"

Lando presses his lips to your pulse point and your knees nearly give out. "Stop being smart," He mutters.

"I know you don't mean that."

"No, I don't. But the sooner we go back inside, the faster I take care of business, and then we can ditch everyone here and go home. I've got something other business to take care of there."

"Oh?"

Lando blinks. "You. It's you."

"Yeah, I got that, thanks. You really aren't that good at flirting, are you?"

"Not really, no. Been a while. Y'know, since I've been so busy being secretly in love with you for years. Now I'm starting to think I should've just sucked it up and told you ages ago, we could've saved loads of time."

"The journey is worth the wait, haven't you heard?" You tease, shrugging. A grin splits Lando's face, and it's like you've just witnessed pure sunlight in the dark of night.

"Yeah," He says, leaning in close for another kiss. "Well worth it, I'd say."