Lando’s head is heavy, but it’s not the hangover keeping him still.

It’s you.

You’re lying beside him, skin warm against his, the soft rise and fall of your breathing pressed into the space between his neck and shoulder. The sheets are half-off the bed, your leg tangled over his hip, and your hand still rests — possessive, relaxed — on his chest.

He exhales slowly. Carefully.

Because the memories are still very much alive in his body.

It started with a look.

That kind of look that doesn’t ask permission — it dares. You had your hand on his chest, pushing him backward as you stepped into him, all confidence and tension, and he hadn’t even kissed you yet but his heart was already pounding.

You told him he looked like trouble. He told you, “You have no idea.”

And then it was heat — your lips crashing into his, laughter between breaths, bodies moving fast and messy. Clothes dropped somewhere down the hallway. You backed him against the wall and pulled his shirt over his head like you’d been waiting weeks, not hours.

But the moment that stuck — the one that’s still stuck — was when you paused, just for a second, and looked at him like he was something worth getting lost in.

And that’s when he picked you up. Scooped you straight into his arms like instinct, like something he had to do, and carried you through the door, across the room, dropped you gently into the bed like you were something rare.

And then it wasn’t fast anymore.

It was everything.

Hands everywhere. Mouths open. Breath hot. You, beneath him, nails in his shoulder, gasping his name like you’d been holding it back for hours.

He remembers how you arched beneath him when he slowed down. How you whispered “don’t stop” when he teased. How your fingers twisted in the sheets when you lost yourself completely — and how that ruined him in the best way.

Now it’s quiet. Still. Morning.

You shift beside him and sigh, turning slightly, pulling the blanket higher without even waking. And all he can do is lie there, heart racing, breath steadying, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to go back to normal after this.

Because yeah, he’s had one-night stands.

But last night? Last night felt like more.