Nothing Like A Rom-Com [F1 ships]

-Chapter 1-

I, Lando Norris, am a man about to lose my dignity.

"Go on then," A tall Aussie man, by the name of Daniel Ricciardo, shoves a microphone into my hands, smirking.

I pass a quick glance of pleading at Carlos, hoping he can help me out of this.

"A dare's a dare," the Spaniard replies pulling his phone out of his pocket, very obviously, wanting to record this mess about to unfold.

That son of a bitch. I walk over to the karaoke stage seriously considering murder.

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After my absolutly amazing preformance of 'Part Of Your World' from the little mermaid, I'm now sat back at the bar with the others. This was meant to be a fun night with a couple of drinks, but, as per usual, it wasn't a couple of drinks. We were fucking drunk. This is gonna suck in the moring.

"Now, I belive it's my turn," I say assesing my options of who to tortue. A smirk grows on my face. "Carlos, dare or drink?"

"Dare," Carlos says, his eyes narrowing. My smirk is now a giant, toothy, smile.

"You better be all warmed up, cause' for five minuets a random generator will give you dance moves. And you're doing this on the karaoke stage." Payback bitch. Next time you should help my sorry ass.

Charles, George and Alex all snorted in unison.

"¡Malditos cabrones! ¿Por qué todavía salgo contigo?" Carlos mumbled under his breath as he aproached the stage.

Ah, yes, vengance is sweet.

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Music blaring? Check. The rest of the twitch quartet and Daniel helping me read out the moves? Affirmative. Carlos' ass shaking? Definetly.

"Hip thrust! Hip thrust!" Daniel yells out.

"Twerk!" Charles yells not long after.

"Are you sure this is randomised, Lando?" Carlos asks me, mid twerk. I have to hand it to him, even though it's most probably the alcohol running through his system, Carlos is pouring his soul into this preformance.

"I think so," I say, tapping the screen so that the next move pops up.

"Hip thrust!" George yells.

"Worm!" Alex says.

If we didn't have the attention of the bar after my preformance we definetly did now. Luckily, the bar was mostly empty (due to it being a Thursday evening) apart form the bartenders and a few people who booked private rooms in the restraunt side of the bar. I think the bartenders thinks that we are meantally ill, which, they are not far off. I mean, come on, we're making a near 30 year old man twerk on a stage.

"Your five minutes are up," I say putting Carlos out of his misery.

Carlos came down from the stage, giving me an intense glare. To be fair, I deserved it.

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Eventually, we found our way bowiling alley, which we then proceeded to book out. We then played a round of strip bowling. The premise of strip bowling is simple, every time you get the ball into the gutter, you strip an item of clothing. Of course, the first ball I bowled rolled right into the fucking gutter. I really need to stop drinking my problems away.

One shoe gone.

George was next. His first bowl was amazing leaving one pin on the very far left. On his second bowl, however, the ball went into the gutter, bearly missing the pin. "Fucking shit," he mumbles removing his shoe.

Carlos went soon after, hitting a strike. What the actual fuck?

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Half an hour later, here is the staus of evryone's state.

Me: I only have my pants on. The pants are beltless.

Carlos: He is only missing one shoe.

George: No shoes. No shirt.

Alex: He is barefoot.

Daniel: He is missing his shoes, and his pants are beltless.

Charles: He's... down to his boxers. In his defence this is his first time bowling.

"Anddd, Charles is out!" Alex anounces. "Sorry Charles," he adds sympathetically.

"What?" Charles says visbly confunsed. "I thought we were out when we were ass naked!"

"You baisically are ass naked," retorts Carlos. "And I don't actually want to see your ass."

Daniel snorts. "No one does, mate."

Charles gives in, stepping aside from the lane and sitting on the couches.

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Five minutes later, and I had joined Charles on the couch, also only in my boxers.

"Good game," I told Charles sitting down.

"Good game," he replied.

"This hangover is going to be wicked."

"Tell me about it."

I know that sitting on this couch until either Alex or Carlos loses is going to take a while, so I propose a game idea to Charles. "Wanna play truth or truth?"

"Why not," the Monogasque replies.

"Lando, truth or truth?"

"Tough choice," I joke. "Truth."

"When will you stop pining for Oscar, and just confess your feelings? I don't think it's healthy for you mate."

I stare blankly at Charles. I always forget how philosophical he gets when he's drunk. "Uhm..." is all I manage to say.

"Mate, have you even told him that you're gay?"

"Well, I was going to tell him..."

"But?"

"I might've tried to tell him way drunker than I am now. He couldn't understand a word."

"Jesus Lando."

I roll my eyes.

"You'll thank me for this free therapy later," Charles says.

"I doubt that," I tell him, rolling my eyes. I pick up an unopened beer off the table and nearly finish it in one go.

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And that is the end of the first chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed. The strip bowling was inspired by the 'Inheritance Games'