Pit Stop of the Heart -Daniel Ricciardo bxb

Crossing the Threshold *smut*

The walk back to the hotel was quieter than before, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt deliberate, like neither of them wanted to disrupt whatever had just started to bloom between them. Daniel's hand occasionally brushed against Lucas's as they walked side by side, their pace slower than it had been earlier in the night.

When they reached the hotel lobby, Daniel hesitated, glancing at the elevator. His heart was racing again, the nerves bubbling up like they always did before he made a bold move. He turned to Lucas, his voice soft but steady.

"You, uh, wanna come up for a bit? I've got drinks in the minibar. Nothing fancy, but..." He trailed off, his grin a little sheepish, unsure how Lucas would take the invitation.

Lucas's expression didn't shift immediately, but after a moment, a small smile curved his lips. "Yeah," he said, his voice even. "I'd like that."

Daniel exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Cool," he said, trying to sound casual. "Let's go."

...

The elevator ride was quiet, the soft hum of the machinery filling the space as they ascended. Daniel stole a glance at Lucas, who stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the glowing numbers above the door. Despite his calm demeanour, there was something in Lucas's posture—a slight tension, a stillness—that told Daniel he wasn't the only one feeling the weight of the moment.

When the elevator dinged, Daniel led the way down the hall to his room, fumbling briefly with the key card before finally getting the door open. He stepped aside to let Lucas in first, the space suddenly feeling smaller now that they were both inside.

"It's not much," Daniel said, closing the door behind them. "Just your standard-issue hotel room."

Lucas chuckled lightly, glancing around. "It's fine. I'm not here for the decor."

Daniel laughed, the sound easing some of the tension he hadn't realised was building. He walked over to the minibar, pulling out a couple of small bottles. "Vodka or whiskey?" he asked, holding them up.

"Vodka," Lucas said, settling onto the small couch by the window.

Daniel poured the drinks into glasses and carried them over, handing one to Lucas before sitting down beside him. The couch was small, their knees almost brushing, and the proximity made Daniel's pulse quicken again.

They sipped their drinks in silence for a moment, the city lights twinkling outside the window. Daniel wasn't sure what to say. The kiss from earlier was still fresh in his mind, and the weight of Lucas's presence so close was enough to make his thoughts scatter.

"You're nervous," Lucas said suddenly, his voice quiet but certain.

Daniel blinked, caught off guard. "What? No. I'm—" He stopped, realising there was no point in lying. "Okay, maybe a little."

Lucas smiled, setting his glass down on the coffee table. "You don't have to be. It's just me."

"That's kind of the problem," Daniel muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're the reason I'm nervous."

Lucas's smile softened, and he turned slightly, his body angling toward Daniel. "Why?"

Daniel hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He set his own glass down, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I guess... this feels different. Like, with you, it's not just about... you know, messing around. It's more than that."

Lucas studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned back slightly, his voice calm but firm. "Good. Because I'm not interested in messing around either."