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Chapter 4: "Behind Closed Doors"

-Pov. Oscar-

The tension between Lando and me had been simmering for months now, but we’d both gotten really good at pretending. To everyone else, we were just two drivers—sometimes rivals, sometimes teammates—but never anything more than that.

But behind closed doors, it was a different story.

I hated how we had to keep things hidden. It made every glance, every accidental touch in the paddock feel like a secret we couldn’t let slip. It was suffocating. Yet, I couldn’t stop. Every stolen moment with him, every time our eyes met when no one was looking—it was addicting.

Today was no different.

We were back at the hotel after a long day of media, both exhausted but buzzing from the adrenaline. I was halfway through peeling off my race suit when I heard the knock at my door. My heart skipped a beat.

It was him. I knew it before I even opened the door.

Lando stood there, wearing a hoodie and that familiar, crooked grin that drove me crazy. His eyes flicked over me—taking in my half-undressed state—and I felt a heat rising in my chest.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked, like we weren’t both fully aware of why he was really here.

I stepped aside, letting him in without a word. The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence between us was thick, heavy with the weight of everything we couldn’t say.

For a moment, we just stood there, the distance between us small but somehow too far. I didn’t know what to do—whether to keep playing it cool, like this was normal, or to give in to the need pulling at me.

Lando seemed to be thinking the same thing because he closed the gap between us with one slow, deliberate step. His hand brushed against mine, and I could feel the electric current that always sparked between us, even with just the lightest touch.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said, his voice low.

I shrugged, trying to act indifferent. “Tired.”

“Liar.”

I shot him a look, but he just smiled. Lando always knew how to see right through me, and it pissed me off. Yet, it was also why I couldn’t stay away. He didn’t let me hide behind the walls I built.

“I hate this,” I muttered, my frustration slipping out before I could stop it.

Lando raised an eyebrow, his expression softening. “What? The sneaking around?”

I nodded, running a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the weight of it all. “It’s just… exhausting. Always pretending, always keeping everything hidden.”

He sighed, stepping even closer until our foreheads were almost touching. “Yeah, I know.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words, the tension between us almost unbearable. Lando’s hand slid up my arm, slow and deliberate, until his fingers found mine, squeezing gently.

“I hate it too,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “But we can’t… we can’t let anyone know.”

“I know,” I muttered. “But sometimes… I don’t want to care anymore.”

His eyes met mine, and for the first time in a long time, I saw a flicker of uncertainty there. Lando wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability—he thrived on confidence, charm, and humor. But here, in this moment, we were both exposed.

“Do you ever wish things were different?” I asked quietly, not sure if I even wanted an answer.

Lando’s gaze softened, and he leaned in, his breath warm against my skin. “All the time.”

Before I could say anything else, he kissed me—soft, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if this was what I needed right now. But it was. God, it was.

I kissed him back, harder than I meant to, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The weight of everything else faded away, leaving just the two of us in this moment, stealing time from the world outside.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathing heavily, Lando rested his forehead against mine, his hands still gripping the sides of my face.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, his voice rough. “We always do.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that we could keep this up—this balancing act between what we had and the public personas we had to maintain. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t sustainable. Something would give eventually.

But for now, I let myself get lost in him. In the way he looked at me, like I was the only person who mattered. In the way his hands never strayed far, always keeping me anchored to him.

I didn’t know how long we had, how long we could keep pretending. But in this moment, behind closed doors, it was enough.

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