howdiditend
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Summary
“I guess we should just pretend to date, then?” Lando says easily.
“What?” Oscar asks. “You’re not serious?”
“Um, yeah I am, mate,” Lando says. “C’mon. It’s not like we can erase the kiss from anyone’s mind or socials. And I don’t want Zak to think you’re like playing mind games with me. I mean, you’re not right?”
“No,” Oscar exclaims, shaking his head. “Of course not.”
“Then, we might as well just lean in, right?” Lando says. “You’d look crazy if we just pretended it was some weird accident.”
Well, Oscar probably is for kissing his teammate like that.
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Oscar kisses Lando on the podium in front of the whole world. Which might be ok if they were dating. But they're not. Not even close. So now, they have to pretend to date to save both of their careers from Oscar's lapse in judgment. This means cute insta posts, joint interviews, the occasional public date, and shared hotel room.
It certainly doesn't mean exploring his newfound sexuality with his teammate. Or getting to know him on a deeper level. Or falling in love with him. All while leading the championship. Again.
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If Max wanted to be the father he told himself he was becoming, if he wanted to stand in the kitchen and actually hear Penelope ask him a question without irritation flickering first, he needed a valve, something to release the pressure, something to quiet the ringing long enough to think straight. Because love for the girls, for the life he’d built, meant nothing if he was never truly in the room with them.
He stared up at the ceiling, hands folded on his chest, the room still quiet in that stubborn way. It wouldn’t need to happen again. His head felt peaceful, manageable, for once.
He hadn’t felt like too much in George’s bed, though.
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After a championship-deciding crash leaves Charles Leclerc with no memory of his life, he rebuilds in a quiet town on the Provençal coast. His new neighbour introduces himself as Franz Herman — a Dutch driver with blue eyes who can't cook.
Series
- Part 7 of Like Fathers, Like Son
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"I'm saying," Oscar replied smoothly, not leaning back, "that you're a very loud addition to a very quiet sport."
Oscar Piastri is the Golden Boy of Tennis — calm, focused, and fiercely protective of his perfectly quiet life.
Lando Norris is a Formula 1 World Champion — chaotic, loud, and constantly living under the blinding lights of the paparazzi.When a chance encounter in Melbourne sparks an unlikely friendship, Lando decides the Prince of the Court needs a little chaos in his life. From the red clay of Paris to the deafening roar of the Silverstone paddock, keeping their distance quickly becomes the hardest game either of them has ever played.
Especially when the whole world is watching.
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"He’s a damn child. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about,” Jos spits, stabbing a finger at the conference table like it’s Charles himself.
Max sits, arms crossed, one knee bouncing under the table, eyes fixed somewhere in the middle distance.
Max Verstappen has spent his life fighting. For wins, for titles. Now, with two world championships under his belt, he’s fighting for his third against a new rival: rookie prodigy Charles Leclerc.