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He lies his head down on the pillow and watches Oscar sleep and thinks, This thing between us, when did you know it for what it was? Did you see it before I did? Did you want it before I did? And he thinks, Did you notice me loving you? Did you notice my hands shaking the first time we had sex? Did you know I noticed your hands shaking, too? And he thinks, I love you, I love you, I love you.
And, I think I want to marry you.
And he whispers, “I love you too. Anniversary.”
And Oscar snuffles against his pillow, and Lando wants and wants and wants.
OR: It takes Lando a really, really long time to propose. It works out eventually.
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It’s under-exposed and grainy, clearly caught with frantic hands before either of them had the chance to notice the phone camera pointed at them. Just barely discernible in the low light, Oscar is leaning against the wall outside some nondescript building in Monaco with his head thrown back, laughing in that stupid, exaggerated way he always seems to when Lando Norris is involved. Lando’s not fully facing the camera, but his hair and side profile give him away. He’s pressing a kiss to the corner of Oscar’s mouth, one hand tangled in the hair at the back of his neck while the other rests on his waist. It is, unfortunately, the kind of photo a person could stare at forever. Tangible evidence of a life well-lived and well-loved.
OR: Oscar and Lando get outed, and the world keeps turning.
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NORRIS: Are you *eating*?
PIASTRI: Am I-? Of course not.
NORRIS: Is it good?
PIASTRI: Focus, Lando. No other cars around. Leclerc ten seconds behind, slow lap. After Leclerc is Tsunoda, timed lap, Turn 13.
Let’s do a quick one.
NORRIS: On it. Bon appetit, Piastri. [static, a gasp] Pastry!Or, Oscar is Lando's new race engineer for the 2024 season, and they stumble into a coworkers with benefits situation. And then things just keep getting more and more complicated-- but hey, the season is going pretty well!
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“Jesus Christ,” Lando whispered. “I just told Max Verstappen to fuck off. On camera. In a wedding skirt. To protect my—” He froze, gesturing helplessly at the Aussie still watching him with infuriating calm. “—my husband.”
Oscar raised a single eyebrow. He looked about as hungover as Lando felt, but there was a wry tilt to his mouth.
“Well,” he said flatly. “At least you were committed.”
Alternatively:
Lando Norris went to Vegas to celebrate taking the lead in the WDC. He left with a hangover, a husband, and a skirt.
It's not a PR nightmare if you never sober up. -
i despise my rotten mind (and how much it worships you) by mywideeyedgayze
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
13 Dec 2025
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Summary
Flash. Click. The shot captured them mid-laugh, eyes locked - Oscar’s expression soft and unguarded, Lando’s relaxed and carefree.
It looked real. Too real.
“Brilliant, lads!” PR said. “We’ll send the relevant pictures to you two to post, alright?”
Lando leant back into his seat, muttering, “Brilliant, huh? Guess we’re good at pretending.”
Oscar glanced at him, still caught off guard.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Guess we are.”
The next day, the picture hit Instagram.
***
AKA Oscar thinks Lando hates him. Lando is secretly in love the entire time. They fake date to clean up a PR nightmare. It doesn't quite go as anyone expects.
