Formula 1 | One Shots (1)

A High Performance Athlete | Lando Norris

Authors Note: This storyline was requested by: p4l_taylorsversion13

Lando flufffff and chaos hehe
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Lando woke up to the sunlight hitting his face, his head throbbing. He squinted, trying to make sense of where he was. The room was a mess, clothes thrown across the floor, a pairs of shoes tossed into the corner, and mostly empty bottles of champagne on the scattered around. He groaned, rubbing his temples as he tried to piece together the night before.

Lando shifted under the sheets, feeling something move next to him. He turned to find Cara, her hair a tangled mess and her face half buried in a pillow. She let out a soft groan as she started to stir, her hand covering her face from the sunlight.

"Morning, love," Lando mumbled. His throat was a goner. 

Cara cracked one eye open, wincing at the brightness. "Ugh, turn off the sun, please," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He let out a laugh that quickly turned into another groan as the movement made his headache worse. "I feel like I got run over by my own car," Lando complained, clutching his head. He attempted to sit up, but the spinning room forced him to sink back onto the bed.

"What...what even happened last night?" Cara asked, struggling to piece together the events as she pushed herself up slightly, her head in her hands.

Lando glanced around, his mind drawing a complete blank. "I...have no idea. Last thing I remember was...the club? And maybe shots?" 

He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the fog in his brain. He caught a glimpse of the empty pizza box near the door and the two party hats that somehow made their way onto the lamp.

Cara groaned again, running a hand through her messy hair. "Yeah, shots...bad idea. I don't remember anything after that. Like, nothing."

"Same here." He moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he leaned his forehead against her shoulder. "Guess we really went all out, huh?"

She gave a small laugh, which quickly turned into another wince. "Apparently. But judging by the state of this room...we had fun?"

Lando pulled back to give the room another look, catching sight of a half eaten birthday cake on the floor with he number 81. He raised an eyebrow, smirking to himself. "Yeah, I think we had a bit too much fun."

Cara tilted her head to look at the cake, her brows furrowing. "Is that...birthday cake? With Oscar's number on it?"

"I think so." He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to piece together how the cake got there. "I don't remember ordering it, though. And it's not Osc's birthday anytime soon."

They exchanged a look, then both burst into laughter, their headaches momentarily forgotten. It was ridiculous, the two of them waking up with no memory of the chaos they'd caused. But despite the pounding in their heads and the uncertainty about last night's events, Lando felt good knowing they had fun together.

"Let's make a pact," Cara said, turning to face him. "Next time, no shots."

He nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Deal." He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the pain in his head for just a moment. "But first, how about some greasy room service breakfast? And can you order me a glass of milk?"

"Sounds like a plan...milk boy," she giggled.

Lando stumbled out of bed, ruffling his curls as he made his way to the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, wild bedhead, dark circles under his eyes, and red kiss mark from Cara's lipstick smudged on his cheek. "I look like a zombie," he muttered, trying to splash some water on his face in a desperate attempt to wake up.