Flight Attendant - Lando norris fanfic

23 - Celebrations

Race day at Silverstone had an energy I'd never felt before. The morning air was alive with excitement and anticipation. The grandstands were packed with Lando's fans, British flags waving in the breeze, and everywhere I looked, there was an endless sea of papaya—the unmistakable color of McLaren. Today was Lando's day. He was on pole, set to start from the front of the grid at his home Grand Prix, and the buzz around the track was electric. It was as if the entire circuit was holding its breath, waiting for the lights to go out.

I stood in the McLaren garage, my heart pounding in my chest. It was a strange mixture of pride and nerves, knowing that Lando had everything riding on this race. Silverstone was special to him, and winning here would mean the world. I glanced at Max, who was standing next to me, his eyes fixed on the screens showing the live feed of the track. He gave me a reassuring smile, sensing my nerves.

"Don't worry," he said, leaning in slightly so I could hear him over the noise. "Lando's got this."

I nodded, wanting to believe him, but there was a nervous knot in my stomach that wouldn't go away. Lando had been so focused this weekend, more determined than I'd ever seen him. The pressure of racing at his home track was immense, and while I knew he was capable, I couldn't help but feel the weight of it too.

The roar of the engines revving on the grid pulled me back to the present. The five red lights lit up, and my breath caught in my throat. I watched the screens as Lando's car sat at the front of the grid, the papaya-orange McLaren gleaming in the sunlight.

Then, the lights went out, and they were off.

The sound was deafening, a wall of noise that vibrated through the garage and shook me to my core. Lando had a good start, holding onto his position as they charged into the first corner. My eyes were glued to the screen, following every movement, every shift in the battle for position.

The race was intense, with several close calls and wheel-to-wheel battles. At one point, I saw Lando defending hard against a charging Ferrari, the red car breathing down his neck. My heart was in my mouth as they went side by side through the corners, neither driver willing to back down. But Lando held firm, his car dancing on the edge of control as he defended his lead lap after lap.

Beside me, Max was calm, his eyes darting between the screens. He'd been around motorsport long enough to know when a driver was in control, and right now, Lando was in the zone. But even still, I couldn't relax. Every time Lando came into a corner, I found myself holding my breath, praying he'd make it through cleanly.

As the race neared its final laps, the tension in the garage was palpable. Lando had pulled out a decent gap, but in Formula 1, nothing is guaranteed until the checkered flag falls. I could see the engineers and mechanics in the garage tensing, their eyes glued to the monitors, silently willing him to make it to the end.

"C'mon, Lando," I whispered under my breath, my fingers clenched into fists at my sides.

The final lap came, and the entire garage seemed to collectively hold its breath. Lando was still in the lead, his car flying through the final corners, and then, before I could process it, he crossed the finish line.

The garage erupted in cheers, the noise almost overwhelming. I felt a rush of relief and joy flood through me as I watched the McLaren team celebrate. Lando had done it. He had won his home race at Silverstone.

Max turned to me, a wide grin on his face. "Told you he had it."

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride. "Yeah, you did."

The celebrations in the garage were wild. Everyone was cheering, hugging, and high-fiving, the energy electric with victory. Lando pulled his car into the pit lane, the British flag waving from the stands, and I watched on the screens as he climbed out of the car, his face lit up with pure joy. This win meant everything to him, and seeing him so happy filled me with an overwhelming sense of pride and love.

After the post-race interviews and the podium celebrations, Lando finally made his way back to the garage. The moment he saw me, he broke into a huge smile, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"You did it!" I said, unable to contain my joy as I threw my arms around him.

He hugged me tightly, his face still flushed from the race. "We did it," he murmured against my ear, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for being here."

We spent some time celebrating with the team, but after a while, Lando pulled me aside, his hand gently taking mine. "Let's get out of here," he whispered, his voice soft but filled with a quiet intensity.

I nodded, understanding what he meant. The team would keep celebrating long into the night, but right now, all I wanted was to be with him. Just the two of us, away from the noise and the cameras. We left the garage, slipping away from the paddock and making our way back to the hotel.

Back at the hotel, the atmosphere felt different. The energy of the race had left both of us buzzing, but now there was a calm between us, a sense of peace that came from knowing the day had ended perfectly. Lando had won, and we were finally alone.

I stood by the window, looking out at the lights of the city in the distance. My mind was racing, but not with thoughts of the race. Instead, I found myself thinking about Lando, about us, and about how much things had changed since we first met. There was a moment of clarity, a sense of certainty that I hadn't felt before. I turned to face him, my heart beating a little faster.

"Lando," I began, my voice soft but steady. He looked up at me from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression attentive. "I've been thinking... about us."

His eyes softened, and he stood up, walking over to me. "What about us?"

I took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and certainty. "I think I'm ready to take the next step... with you."

Lando's gaze held mine, his expression gentle but filled with emotion. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for," he said softly, his hands reaching out to cup my face.

I shook my head, my heart swelling with affection for him. "I am ready. I want this... I want you."

For a moment, Lando just looked at me, his eyes searching mine as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Then, he leaned in and kissed me, softly at first, but with a tenderness that took my breath away. His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me closer as the kiss deepened, and I felt the world around us melt away.

We moved slowly, almost cautiously, as if we both understood the significance of this moment. There was no rush, no urgency—just a quiet, shared understanding that this was something we both needed. Lando's touch was gentle, his hands exploring my body with a tenderness that made my heart race.

Every moment felt deliberate, every touch filled with care and affection. It was as if we were speaking without words, telling each other everything we felt through the way we moved together. His hands traced the contours of my body, and I felt a warmth spread through me, not just from the physical connection, but from the emotional intimacy we were sharing.

When we finally came together, it was slow, almost reverent. Lando's eyes never left mine, and in that moment, I felt completely seen, completely understood. There was a vulnerability between us, but it wasn't frightening. It felt right. It felt like this was where we were meant to be, with each other, in this moment.

As we moved together, I felt an overwhelming sense of closeness, a connection that went beyond the physical. It was as if we were sharing something deeper, something that had been building between us for a long time. And when we finally reached that peak, it wasn't just about the pleasure—it was about us, about everything we had been through and everything we were building together.

Afterward, we lay together, our bodies tangled in the sheets, the sound of our breathing the only thing breaking the silence. Lando's arm was wrapped around me, his fingers gently tracing circles on my skin. I turned to look at him, my heart full.

"I love you," I whispered, the words coming out naturally, without hesitation.

Lando's eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss me again, his lips brushing mine in the sweetest, most tender way. "I love you too," he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion.

In that moment, I knew that this was the beginning of something new for us. Something deeper, something stronger. And for the first time, I didn't feel like an outsider in Lando's world. I felt like I was exactly where I belonged—right here, with him.