Chapter Text
Lando knew his race was fucked as soon as he locked up going into the turn.
He wasn’t fully prepared for the impact that followed, though.
The wall rushed at him in the span of a single blink, and he barely had enough time to let go of the wheel before the collision. And he collided hard. His helmet bounced off the edge of the cockpit, and he felt his stomach swoop as the car moved in some sort of direction it wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t even sure if he was spinning or flipping – he’d shut his eyes reflexively.
The tossing and crashing seemed to stretch on for an eternity, and when he was finally still, he kept his eyes shut for a moment because he didn’t think it was really over. The roar he was hearing could’ve been from the track or just echoing in his own ears. He was almost afraid to move.
When he finally opened his eyes, there was a piece of metal sticking out just a few inches from his eyes.
He couldn’t repress the instinct to flinch away from it, bumping his already-sore shoulder in the process. He had no idea what the shard was from, but that didn’t change the fact that it could’ve gone straight into his head. His helmet was pretty tough, but with enough force behind a projectile, it wasn’t invincible.
He reached out a hand to grab the edge of the cockpit, catching his glove on the torn metal and nearly cutting his hand. He was about to pull himself out when he finally registered something else: he was still in the middle of the track.
He instantly retracted back into his seat, breathing fast. He could just see a yellow flag being frantically waved from the corner of his eye, but was that enough to slow traffic in time? There had been a huge clog of cars not far behind him. Sure enough, just a heartbeat later, an Alpine roared by, followed by an Aston Martin. They were going slower than usual, but that speed was still more than enough to kill him on the spot.
“Lando, can you hear us? Are you okay?” his radio crackled. He had no idea how long someone had been trying to call for him. It took him three tries to hit the button to answer with his shaking hands.
“I-I th-think I’m okay,” he stammered, trying to calm his breathing so he could actually speak. He had no idea how true his statement actually was – what could the adrenaline rush be hiding? “I’m still in the c-car, I –”
Another car flashed by, an RB, and he gasped and flinched in fear. What if someone crashed into him before he could get out? The car definitely wouldn’t survive that in one piece. He wasn’t sure if he would, either.
“Lando, the marshalls are on their way,” his engineer told him. “Just three more cars have to pass and you can get out safely.”
Three more cars was about three too many for Lando. He was terrified that at any moment, there would be another impact and that would be it for him. He prayed to any god that would listen that Martijn wasn’t watching the race right now. If he was, he hoped the cameras were focused somewhere else. If he was about to die, he didn’t want Martijn to see it.
He looked at the piece of metal pointing at him and tried not to imagine what it might puncture if there was another impact, as the two Williams and finally a Haas whisked by a bit too close for comfort.
When he finally heard the words “all clear” a few moments later, he was scrambling out of the car before he could even identify who had said it. He wasn’t sure how he stayed steady on his feet long enough for a marshall to guide him to the wall, but as soon as he was off the track, he was leaning against the nearest surface and trying not to groan in pain.
Everything hurt so much. His arms, his hands, his legs, his ribs. Nothing felt broken, but he was pretty sure that under his race suit, he was covered from head to toe in bruises. He already knew he was going to wake up completely stiff and sore tomorrow. But at least he would wake up.
If the cameras hadn’t been on him before, they almost definitely were now. He made an effort to stand up as straight as he could and started walking towards the medical car. The race was only halfway done, so he would probably still be stuck at the track for a while. Oscar was still in contention to finish on the podium, and then there was debrief later. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his hotel and fall into Martijn’s arms instead.
He wondered how much Martijn had seen. He wondered how scared he had been.
He wondered which of them would break first when he came home.
–
Oscar insisted on driving him back to the hotel.
“Get in the car,” he’d said unceremoniously, cutting in front of Lando to open the door for him. Lando normally would have protested, but he didn’t have the energy this time. Which was probably a sign that getting a ride was a better idea than driving himself anyway. Even with debrief postponed until tomorrow for him, he was exhausted.
Oscar had finished second today, and Lando was genuinely happy for him. But his own afternoon had been spent in the medical center, so he was struggling to be as demonstrative with his happiness as usual. He'd been prescribed painkillers and told to go to a hospital if he experienced any symptoms of a concussion or other issues. Hopefully he didn't get any nightmares about the crash on top of everything else . . . but he already knew that he probably would.
Normally, when the two of them shared a car, Lando was the chattier of the two. Tonight things were reversed. Lando was too sore and sullen to talk, and Oscar was clearly worried about him, which led to him trying to fill the awkward silence.
“Do you, uh, have any plans for tonight?” he asked. “Like, with Martijn?”
Oscar knew about their relationship, kind of by accident (Lando really needed to remember to lock the door to his driver’s room more often), but Lando trusted him wholeheartedly with the secret. Honestly, Lando would probably trust him with almost anything, even covering up a murder. After the whole Logan-getting-dumped-by-Williams thing, he wouldn’t be surprised if Oscar had some plans for hiding a body already.
“I dunno,” Lando mumbled. “He called earlier to check on me, but we couldn't talk long. I’m sure he's gonna wanna check me over and try to talk about it, but I just wanna rest tonight.”
“Does he know how bad it was?” Oscar asked.
Lando shuffled his shoulders a bit, wincing. He'd seen the replays of the crash, so he knew that from nearly every angle, it hadn't looked nearly as scary as it had felt. What had felt like getting tossed and spun like he was in a blender had really just been some big spins, and none of the cameras had captured the fractured metal that could have impaled him. Not to mention they had cut away for several seconds to record other people's reactions instead, so most people watching the broadcast probably had no idea how bad it could have been. Lando had told the team what it had felt like to him, so they knew it had been worse than it looked, but for anyone else watching . . .
“Maybe?” he finally admitted. “I’m not sure how much the cameras showed. But if he was watching my onboards, he might know.”
Oscar's expression was mostly unreadable, as usual, but as they pulled in front of the hotel, Lando saw him press his lips together for a moment. A little bit of worry peeked through his usually well-schooled mask. Before they got out of the car, he stopped Lando with a hand on his arm.
“I obviously don’t know how you guys deal with stuff like this,” he said, “but personally, I don’t think you should hide this or downplay it. That’ll just blow up in your face in the long run. Just be honest with him if he asks about it.”
“Mhm,” Lando hummed in response. He knew Oscar’s advice was good, and probably what he should do if he wanted to keep his relationship with Martijn strong. But he also didn’t want to scare Martijn any more than he already had been. He’d have to play it by ear.
The two of them walked into the lobby and to the elevator, hitting the buttons for their respective floors. Lando got off first, thanking Oscar for the ride before stepping out. His hotel room was only a few short strides away.
He stopped in front of the door, his keycard in his hand. Okay. Deep breaths. He was fine. He and Martijn would be fine.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The scent of one of his favorite comfort meals wafted from the kitchen, and he could hear Martijn humming to himself from here. He set his bag down with a thunk and sighed, his shoulders sagging. Now that his body knew he was home and safe, every tense muscle relaxed, and he winced at the soreness that sat deep in his bones.
“Lando, is that you?” Martijn called out. Lando took a deep breath. He was fine – he could do this.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he confirmed. As soon as his sentence was finished, he heard footsteps and Martijn whisked around the corner.
Martijn opened his arms, and it was almost instinctive for Lando to burrow into his embrace. He didn’t care that he was sore as hell and completely exhausted – this was the only place he wanted to be.
“Are you okay, love?” Martijn asked softly. With his face buried in his neck, Lando couldn’t see his expression, but he didn’t sound scared or upset. Just caring and concerned.
“Yeah,” Lando said, slightly lying. As gentle as he knew Martijn was trying to be, his touch was still just enough to make his bruises throb. His voice was impressively steady, considering that images of the crash were starting to flash through his mind again. He’d been really close to not coming home tonight.
He leaned back and opened his mouth to elaborate, to explain that yeah, the crash was really scary but he was okay, he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen again but at least he was okay now. But he didn’t get a chance before Martijn spoke again.
“Well, I’m glad,” he said. He picked up his hand and pressed a kiss to his fingers. “I know it wasn’t a bad crash, but I can still pamper you tonight, right?”
Lando froze. Martijn’s words hit him like a speeding car.
He didn’t know how bad the crash had been at all.
He must not have been watching his onboards then. He must have seen the regular broadcast, which hadn't shown the full extent. Or maybe the cameras hadn't shown the crash at all – he had no idea what had actually been broadcast. Maybe Martijn had only heard about the crash secondhand. Whatever had happened, he clearly didn’t have the faintest idea how bad it could have been.
He was under the assumption that Lando had just gotten bumped around, maybe a little bruised, and all he needed was a relaxing evening. He had no idea that there was a chance Lando might not have come home at all.
He looked so calm, so caring, not that worried at all. How would he react if he knew how bad it could have been? How could Lando tell him that? How could he do that to him?
He had to pretend nothing was wrong. He had to pretend he was okay.
Which, if Martijn’s expression was anything to go by, he was already failing at.
“Lando?” Martijn asked, brows furrowing in worry. “Are you okay?”
Lando flinched, stepping back a bit. He had grown tense again, and his heart was beating faster. “U-um,” he stammered. “I’m f-fine, don’t worry.”
He reacted very unconvincingly, and Martijn only looked more concerned now. He reached out a hand, cautiously, to grab his shoulder again. “Lan –”
His fingers accidentally pressed right into one of Lando’s bruises, and before he could stop himself, he swatted Martijn’s hand away with a yelp of pain. Then his eyes widened and he staggered back another step, trying not to tremble as he clutched his shoulder. Martijn was staring back at him wide-eyed. There was no way he didn't know something was wrong now.
I can't tell him, I can't tell him, I can't tell him, Lando mentally chanted over and over. He'll be scared, he'll be upset, it'll hurt him, I can't do that to him, I can't tell him . . .
Martijn held his hands out non-threateningly, making no move to touch Lando again but staying close to him. “Lando,” he said slowly, “what's wrong?”
Lando gulped in panic. “Um,” he stammered, his voice cracking. I can't tell him, I can't tell him. “N-nothing. It – it wasn't bad. Nothing is wrong. I just . . . o-overreacted.”
Even he knew that he was being completely unconvincing. Martijn gave him a look, and it made want to shrink in on himself and hide in shame.
Martijn stepped closer, cautiously clasping his hand again. Lando's trembling was obvious. “Please don't lie to me,” he begged softly.
Lando sniffled and lowered his eyes. They had promised never to lie to each other, especially not over big things like this. And here he was, trying to lie through his teeth about the fact that he could have died today. Martijn was a forgiving person, but lying about something like that might be too much.
He didn't want to scare him. He didn't want to hurt him. But if he lied, he would drive him away and hurt him anyway.
Lando sniffled again, and felt tears start to burn his eyes. It just added to his overall misery. He knew he wasn't going to get away with lying to Martijn – and after how his pitiful attempt had made his heart hurt, he didn't want to anyway. But that didn't make the words any easier to get out.
He wasn't brave enough to look Martijn in the eye as he finally confessed. “I - I d-don’t think I’m okay,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “The . . . the c-crash was bad. R-really bad. I was . . . I was terrified.”
He began to cry, tears dripping down his cheeks as his breath hitched. He felt Martijn tug him, gently, and he slumped back into his embrace with a breathy sob.
“I th-thought I might not m-make it out,” he whimpered in between sobs. “Th-the cockpit was all b-broken, a-and I was in the m-middle of the track . . . i-if I’d gotten hit, I . . .”
“Shh, shh,” Martijn soothed him. His voice sounded a lot thicker than before, and Lando felt guilty for being the reason he felt that way. “Don't say it. It didn't happen, okay? I can't imagine how scared you were, but you're okay now, schatje. You're okay.”
Lando sobbed again at the term of endearment, because he could still imagine an alternate reality where he'd died and Martijn had lost his “treasure” forever. It was his favorite of Martijn's pet names for him, but right now, it just made him cry harder.
Martijn cradled the back of Lando's head, threading his fingers through the tousled curls. He let Lando clutch him and cry for a few minutes, waiting for him to calm down and catch his breath before he spoke again. “I'm so sorry, Lando. I had no idea it was so much scarier than it looked. How can I help?”
Lando hugged him tighter, burying his face into his neck. “Don't apologize,” he mumbled. “Just hold me.”
Martijn gave him a gentle squeeze of comfort, clearly trying not to squeeze too hard by mistake. Lando wished he knew what he was thinking. Was he falling into a mental spiral, imagining scarier and scarier versions of what could have happened today? Was he trying to think about anything else so he could stay strong?
What Lando did know was that Martijn wouldn’t blame him for things that were out of his control or pull away because of the fear of something worse happening someday. He would do just what he was doing now: holding Lando close and making sure his love for him was known.
“Dinner should be just about done. Are you hungry?” Martijn finally asked quietly. Lando could hear the worry in his voice, thin but there.
“Yeah,” he admitted. He felt totally drained, and while he wasn’t super hungry, he’d probably feel better if he ate something.
He didn’t want to release his hold on Martijn, but unfortunately, they couldn’t walk to the kitchen this way. They reluctantly let go of each other but kept their hands clasped while they walked back to the kitchen.
Martijn kissed Lando gently before quickly checking the stove and pulling out the plates and silverware. A few minutes later, he had their food plated and handed Lando his meal. “Let’s sit.”
They took their usual spots at the table, but Martijn dragged his chair around to sit next to Lando instead of across from him. Their shoulders kept bumping from how close they were. But Lando clung to every little bit of contact. He needed it after today.
If it hadn't been one of his comfort meals, Lando might not have eaten more than a few bites. Luckily, he was able to get down about two-thirds of it before his body decided that that was enough. He was still too shaken up and tense to eat a full meal. He felt bad wasting any of it, but Martijn kissed his worries away while he cleaned up and put the leftovers away.
“Tonight is about what you need,” he said. “Not about what you think you need. If this is all you can eat for now, then that's okay.”
Lando insisted on helping, even just a little bit, and helped place the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Once he was done, he straightened up, wincing in pain as the sore muscles in his back flexed. He really wanted to do nothing for the rest of the evening, but he didn’t know if Martijn had plans. If he wanted to stay up and watch a movie or something, or talk about the events of the day, he’d keep himself up, but . . .
A hand on his back startled him. “Sorry,” Martijn apologized quickly, starting to pull his hand away, but Lando leaned in to keep him close instead.
“I, uh, I just wanted to ask if you’d like a bath?” Martijn asked, tentative and nervous. “I know you must be sore . . .”
Lando shrugged his shoulders a bit. “Uh, I am, yeah. But you probably had plans for tonight . . .”
“My only plans were to spend time with you,” Martijn said. He reached out a hand to touch Lando’s chin, encouraging him to look up. “So right now, things are going exactly to plan.”
Lando hesitated, but then smiled softly and gratefully. A bath sounded heavenly right now. And if Martijn was sincerely offering, he wasn’t going to turn it down.
He failed to factor in one thing, though, until after they’d stepped into the bathroom together. While Martijn was getting the water ready, Lando slowly peeled off his clothes. Every single muscle in his body felt like it was trying to rebel. And once he pulled his shirt off, it was pretty clear why, as a map of purple and blue bruises made themselves known.
Lando stilled for a moment, taking in the sight of his own skin – he’d seen the bruises earlier, but they hadn’t been this dark before. He was startled out of his thoughts by a soft gasp.
He nervously looked up, seeing Martijn staring at him. His expression had turned wide-eyed and worried again, and his lip started to wobble.
Lando’s heart clenched with guilt, even though he had nothing to feel guilty for. The accident had been just that – an accident. Not anyone’s fault, even his. “Marty, I –”
“Don’t. It . . . it’s just . . .,” he choked out, his voice thick and ragged. He stepped towards him slowly, hands trembling as he hesitantly reached out. He tangled his fingers with Lando’s, and his breath hitched as his eyes flickered down his body again. It seemed like the weight of what could have happened was finally hitting him. Or maybe seeing the bruises had finally been enough for his strong facade to crumble.
He bit his trembling lip, and Lando heard a whine that he tried and failed to swallow. Lando wanted to speak, to comfort him, but there was a growing lump in his own throat that threatened to swallow any words he tried to say.
Timidly, Martijn raised a hand and touched one of the bruises that stretched across his ribs, his touch so light that a puff of air would have been harsher. The contrast between his own pale, unblemished skin and the mottled purple of Lando’s skin was stark.
Martijn eventually met his eyes, unshed tears making them glisten. “I know you said you’re not okay,” he whispered, voice rough. “B-but can you tell me that you’re, y’know . . . okay?”
Lando swallowed, the sight of Martijn’s brimming tears making him want to cry himself. But he got out the words that Martijn needed to hear. “I’m okay,” he promised in a whisper.
Slowly, Martijn’s face crumbled into tears, and he sagged forward to hold Lando close. Lando wasn’t sure if he was crying in relief or the fear of what could have happened. At the moment, it didn’t really matter. Lando understood either way. He wanted to cry, too.
But with Martijn finally crumbling, he couldn’t let himself crumble in return. Even if he wanted to. Martijn had been strong for him so many times – it was the least he could do to return the favor now, even just for a few moments.
When Martijn finally let him go, he kept his eyes steadfastly focused on Lando’s face, avoiding any part of his body that was bruised. Sensing that he was still fragile, Lando leaned forward to kiss him comfortingly. Martijn’s lips still trembled faintly as he returned the kiss.
“I’m okay,” Lando whispered again. He stroked Martijn’s cheek, wiping his tears away. “You can take care of me now, okay? Will that make you feel better?”
Martijn nodded with a sniffle, hastily trying to compose himself. He insisted on helping Lando out of the rest of his clothes, even though the shirt had been the hardest to get off anyway. After helping Lando into the tub, he stripped off his own clothes and joined him before Lando could even say anything. He settled behind Lando and hugged him to his chest. Lando went more than willingly.
The bath felt nice, but Martijn’s arms felt nicer. Lando closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing in his hold. For the first time all day, all of the tension finally left his body. It might only be temporary relief until he did something to anger his muscles again, but for now, it felt like heaven.
Martijn kissed his temple, stroking his shoulder gently. “I love you,” he whispered, voice still faintly wobbly.
Lando opened his eyes, turning his head to look up at Martijn. He smiled, more honestly than he had all day. He overlapped his hand with Martijn’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I love you too,” he whispered back.
Things would go wrong. Things would be scary sometimes. He would get hurt, and the pieces of him would have to be picked up and carefully pieced back together. But he would always have Martijn to come back to, and he would always, always come back. That was a vow.