falling for your enemy II Lando Norris

5. good night

Ashton's POV

He goes wide-eyed, and I can't tell if it's horror or something else. He's giving me all sorts of expressions, but damned if I can read any of them. Lando might show every emotion under the sun, but for a guy who "hates" me, he sure seems to care a lot about what I do.

"What?" I finally say, a little unnerved by his wide-eyed stare.

"Who just... sleeps naked?" he asks, sounding almost scandalized.

"I do," I reply, watching as he processes this like it's the most shocking news he's ever heard. His gaze drops momentarily to my blanket-covered lower half, and he raises an eyebrow. "Is there something about being naked around people that you just... enjoy?"

"Only around you," I joke, enjoying the way he looks even more horrified. He stares at me, jaw slightly open, so I laugh. "Relax, Norris, it's a joke."

A few seconds pass, and finally, he crawls under the covers, muttering something under his breath as he flips off the lights. Good. It's not hard to get comfortable on this bed, which feels like a cloud compared to that ugly couch in the living room. I close my eyes, hearing him shift beside me but ignoring it.

Lights out and away we go. Good night to you too, I guess.

Lando's POV

I can't sleep. I reach out my hand and pick up my phone to check the time. 00:28. Fuck. I guess beginning-of-season nerves are still getting to me even after six years in this sport. A naked, sleeping man next to me is definitely not helping either.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, only to turn my head and stare at Ashton's back instead.

Nice back.

NO.

I look back at the ceiling. Usually, when I can't sleep, I just get myself off real quick, and that does the trick. I can't really do that right now, can I? But now that I've thought about it, I'm horny. Again.

I let out a groan and slide my hand across my face. God, I'm a mess. I look back to my right. Yep, he's still here. Didn't magically vanish. And he's naked underneath.

Oh, fuck me.

I roll onto my stomach and press my face into the pillow. It's comfortable and all, but I need to pull back because I can't breathe. I turn on my side, facing his back.

His goddamn back.

"Can you stop fucking moving, man?" he mutters, catching me off guard. I lift an eyebrow at the unexpected sound, surprised he's even still awake. Maybe I woke him.

I roll back onto my back, and at the same moment, Ashton shifts onto his side, now facing me. My gaze lands on his face, and for some reason, my breath catches slightly. He holds eye contact, and suddenly, it feels like we're stuck in some sort of weird staring contest.

I don't look away, and neither does he. He's stubborn like that. Guess I am too.

Next thing I know, his lips are on mine, and suddenly he's half on top of me, his bare chest pressing into mine. I freeze, completely thrown. My brain's scrambling to make sense of it—this isn't happening, this shouldn't be happening. I mean, I'm straight, right? Yet somehow, I'm not exactly pulling away.

For a second, my hands even move to his sides, and I'm kissing him back, which only adds to the confusion spinning in my head. I keep telling myself that this has to feel wrong, that any second now I'll snap out of it, but it's... it's not feeling wrong. His mouth on mine, the warmth of his body—it's overwhelming in a way I can't just dismiss, no matter how much I want to.