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Some of Oscar’s friends called him a ‘serial napper.’ He thought that term was quite fitting, to be fair, though it made him feel sort of like he was being compared to a serial killer, which was slightly less ideal.
Yep, he liked to nap. Here, there, everywhere; if it could be laid down on, or even sat down on, Oscar would nap on it. In the past, he’d been caught sleeping during team meetings, workouts, cooldowns, and, of course, times when people were allowed to nap, like after a strenuous quali or an exhausting media day. By caught, he meant that there were always pictures circulating the McLaren group chats of him knocked out on some variety of surface. It was always the source of a laugh between him and his closest mates; Kim liked to joke that he must be working Oscar too hard if he was falling asleep that often around the McLaren Technology Center, paddock, and beyond. But despite all the teasing he got, there was one person he could count on to place some fine respect on his nap time, and that was Lando.
His teammate was also one to get caught napping wherever he pleased, though it was to a lesser extent than Oscar’s current situation. The Aussie liked to think that as Lando started to grow into the older-driver shoes that he had never had to wear before, he felt some sense of responsibility to be awake for various duties he now had to fulfill. That was the mature explanation though; maybe he just felt like he had better things to do than be sleeping all day. But Lando… well, the fact that he was awake more meant that he got to witness the state of Oscar’s naptime routine to its full extent.
What that meant for Oscar was that Lando was always somehow finding him even when he napped in more personal spaces. His driver's room, for example; though he kept the door closed, he often found himself half-waking up to the sound of light footsteps. And sometimes, those footsteps were coupled with a few passing touches from his teammate, maybe a feather-light pat on the back or, more recently, a little ruffle of his hair and a wrapped finger around that one stubborn curl that fell over his forehead. Oscar never made a move, just laid there and listened to the Brit’s light breathing before he’d eventually exit the room and shut the door with the quietest click he could manage. There was something calming about it all, to just have the opportunity to enjoy Lando’s presence without Lando even knowing it. Made the interactions a bit easier to think about, per se. Sometimes, Lando was a pretty difficult guy to think about, but Oscar digressed. There were plenty of times to ponder his teammate, like in his naptime dreams. He happened to dream a lot about Lando. Was that weird? Weird enough at least that he wasn’t going to tell Lando about it.
It was one afternoon, during a very eventful Silverstone week, that something a bit different than usual happened. Media day had just partially finished, and since it was the home crowd they were entertaining, it had taken that much more of a toll on Oscar. It had been fun, lots of it, but fun didn’t always leave you feeling mentally rejuvenated. It was more like his brain was turning to mush inside his head as he stumbled back to his driver’s room, stifling a few yawns as he crossed paths with some of his colleagues. He and Lando had put on a show for the fans, smiling and laughing at each other and getting in a few good hugs. Not like anyone had to tell him to act comfortable and joyful around his teammate; if anything, you’d have to tell him to calm down, and mentions of ‘calm down’ in the same sentence as ‘Oscar Piastri’ were few and far between.
Lando had talked about how incredible the season had been so far - he’d picked up his long-awaited first win in Suzuka, followed by another in Canada, and Oscar had won the sprint in Miami, along with a few podiums for them both so far with many more to come.
“Mr. Oscar Piastri, everyone. This guy is something, isn’t he?” Lando wrapped his arm around Oscar and pulled him close, drawing loud cheers from the crowd. Never one for the spotlight, Oscar blushed a bit, trying to drown out the pounding in his ears mixing with the screams of fans. His arm had wrapped around Lando’s shoulder to match, eyes flitting slightly to meet those of his teammate. He looked proud, but there was something underneath the pride that Oscar couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Very kind, but this isn’t my home race, after all.” Oscar turned to the crowd, smiling into his microphone. “What do you all think of Mr. Lando Norris?” The noise the crowd made was probably audible far across the English Channel. The teammates laughed at the enthusiasm, separating their embrace and waiting for the crowd to die down from their high. It was at that moment that Oscar noticed Lando was watching him from a few feet across the stage, his microphone just barely covering a little smirk that was fixed on his lips. That was one of those classic Lando smirks that just bled confidence. It made Oscar smile to himself.
After they’d gone back and forth for a while about all sorts of silly things that had gone down so far in the season, they were finally escorted down from the stage and sent back to home base before more media duties in a few hours. Oscar wiped the sweat from his brow, letting out a sigh as he and Lando marched side by side, stopping occasionally on their journey to take a picture with a fan or say hello to passersby.
“That never gets easier,” he murmured, Lando laughing in response. He clapped a hand on Oscar’s back, keeping it there for a few seconds as they continued to walk through the paddock.
“Hey, you’re gonna have to get used to it. We’ve got a few more years together doing this, mate.” That was true, since both their contracts had been extended. It was a quiet comfort for Oscar; he hadn’t gotten to keep a teammate for long in his history of racing, seeing as he’d moved up the junior ranks so quickly. Sure, Logan was still around and forever a source of support, but Lando would finally be a bit more of an anchor for him, which was still something he’d have to digest a bit more (a good digest, of course, with thinking about how nice the next few years would be together).
Oscar chewed on his lip a bit as Lando’s hand finally relaxed back to his side, their similar pace keeping them walking side by side up the steps to the McLaren building. “Thanks for always making it look like I have any clue how to entertain a crowd,” he chuckled, Lando stifling a giggle and a grin. Always one to appreciate a good compliment.
“What can I say, I’m a talented man. Driver, entertainer, whatever you want. Here all night, folks,” he said proudly, Oscar’s gaze wandering to him momentarily as he relished in his little confident moment. Despite how tiring their day had been up to that point, Lando still looked surprisingly filled with energy, which Oscar wished he’d shared at least a bit. He personally felt as though he was going to collapse just from walking up the few short stairs. Rubbing his eyes, he let out a stifled yawn which Lando somehow immediately noticed. “Awwww, need a nap, sleepyhead?” he teased, faking a yawn of his own. Oscar rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders. The answer, quite simply, was yes, he did need a nap. Anywhere would do as long as he got to rest his head, but his driver’s room, which was right up another flight of stairs in the main building, seemed like a sleeping quarters fit for a king at that moment.
“Yeah, gonna try to get a bit of sleep in before we’ve got to go back to do whatever else we’ll be dragged to.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you. Sweet dreams.” Without another word, Lando turned his back and headed towards the dining area to seemingly get a quick snack. Oscar blinked, yawning again and heading back on his way to dreamland.
So, back where it all started. He’d headed to his driver’s room and flopped down on the massage table, not even bothering to change into some more comfortable clothes or grab anything other than the thin pillow he used to rest his head on while he was using the table for its actual purpose. Blinking sleepily, he ignored the fact that it was a bit chilly in the room and situated himself comfortably on the cool leather surface. If he was going to pull off the appearance that he had any idea how to talk to the media, he’d need to get as many minutes of sleep in as he could, though his mind was a bit more active than he’d of liked it to be as he closed his eyes and snuggled his head as much as he could into the pillow. It was no surprise to him that the thoughts keeping him from fully shutting off his brain were thoughts of his teammate.
Why was it always Lando? He had other friends, many of them, and he didn’t seem to think about them while he was trying to fall asleep. It was Lando’s smile, his laugh, his stupid goatee, the little ways in which he fidgeted in front of a crowd or even during a team meeting. It was all just… Lando, Lando stuff. All the stuff that made Oscar start to feel a little warmer as he lay there. Maybe it was just that thinking about Lando was an easy comfort. Speak of the devil, Oscar’s quiet thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door of his driver’s room creak open followed by the familiar squeak of the Brit’s sneakers as he strode across the length of the room towards the table.
Not wanting to alert Lando that he was in fact awake and not drifting off to dreamland like he so wanted to be, Oscar kept his eyes pressed shut and his breathing level. He heard Lando shuffling around the room a bit, maybe looking for something. Oscar wasn’t sure what he might be looking for, since it wasn’t his driver’s room to be messing around in. It wasn’t until a moment later when he felt something being laid on top of him that Oscar realized what Lando had been looking around for. It was a blanket that Lando had placed on top of him, one that had probably been hiding away on the shelves where Oscar had been too lazy to look. It wasn’t a nice fluffy blanket that would have hit the spot just right, but the gesture was enough to send a rush of warmth straight up from his core. He dared not shuffle to show he was awake, so he continued to lay there, breathing shallow and hands shuffling to hold the edges of the blanket just enough to be deceiving of a sleeping man’s movements. To think that Lando had not only walked up to spend his free time to check up on Oscar but also to make sure he was comfortable? God it was… a feeling. A weird one at that, but one that made it very difficult not to sit up in bed and start thanking his teammate profusely.
There wasn’t much time to consider those thoughts when Oscar felt Lando lean just slightly against the edge of the table, any contact between them barely noticeable underneath the layer of blanket. He heard the Brit let out a long sigh before, not even much to his surprise, a hand reached out and softly petted his hair. It was just a momentary lingering of Lando’s fingers along brunette locks, but it was enough that the little tingle in his scalp made him hold his breath. There was something so comforting about it, and something inside Oscar begged that he wouldn’t take his hand away. Maybe that metronomic glide of his hand would finally actually put him to sleep.
Some people might think you’re weird for this, Norris. I, on the other hand, think you’re not weird at all. In fact, I think you’re pretty cool. Oscar’s thoughts continued to be filled with Lando. Lando, Lando, Lando. Even when his hand finally pulled away, he was all Oscar could think of. And then, something happened. Something that had never happened before.
Lando kissed him.
Not on the lips. That would’ve been a little odd to kiss your sleeping teammate on the lips. It was just a little peck on the forehead, so quick that it was almost like he’d only ghosted his fingers there. But Oscar knew what a kiss felt like, and that felt like a kiss. He fought everything in his body that threatened to tense up and reveal his awakeness, but he somehow managed to stay still, maybe just breathing the tiniest bit more out of his nose. Something pounded in his head as he felt the presence of Lando standing next to him, fighting the urge to take a quick glance at him through a squinted eye. Before he could even begin to comprehend what happened, Oscar heard the door click open and closed once more, signaling that Lando had exited. The room was quiet once again, eerily so as Oscar lay alone once again. Just him and the mess of thoughts that were now swarming around in his brain. He blinked his eyes open, swallowing the lump that had started to grow in his throat.
Lando Norris had just kissed him. Sure, it was only on the forehead, but Lando Norris had just kissed him. That was probably something about half the world’s population coveted like nothing else, and he had just gotten a sneak peek. God, it was like… what? What? He’d seriously just laid there acting like he was Sleeping Beauty while his teammate rubbed his hair and kissed him on the forehead. He probably should’ve been a little bit more on the shocked side of things, but something was building in Oscar’s chest faster than he could quite comprehend. Something that told him that maybe, just maybe, he’d like another. Or two.
****
Oscar thought about that afternoon a lot over the next few days. During free practice, during qualifying, and even during the race. And he thought about it quite a bit extra as he stood on the 2nd place step right under his teammate, who had won his home race for the first time. Smiles and laughs were shared with their fellow podium-sitter Max as they sprayed champagne at each other, the roars of the crowd near-deafening. Oscar felt like it was impossible to keep his eyes off Lando, especially as he grinned and wiped champagne from the curls. That was the man who had kissed him. He wanted so badly to just confront Lando, to say “hey, I know you kissed me in my sleep. Yeah, cat’s out of the bag, I wasn’t actually sleeping. So, want to do it while I’m awake too?”, but that seemed a bit forward.
Yet despite his worries and his doubts, Oscar oh-so-wanted to say something to Lando, whether it be an awkward passing mention of the event or a full conversation about whatever feelings had been brewing in the depths of his mind over the past few days. He knew well and good that those weren’t anything new. Before the podium and all the crazy feelings that had brought on, his thoughts had distracted him even as he sat in the cooldown room with Lando and Max, staring aimlessly at the screen in front of him playing highlights from the race as he chewed on his bottom lip.
“Oh wow… that one was a close one,” Lando commented on a near miss between Alex and Charles, Max nodding in response.
“Ah, this one I actually saw happen right in front of me,” Max responded as another exciting moment popped up on the screen. Oscar sure remembered this one - he’d had a bit of a run-in with Pierre on Turn 7, both of them nearly missing out on a repeat of Max and Lewis in Monza.
Lando turned to Oscar, giving him a crooked smile. “Barely made it out of that one, mate.” The Aussie found himself staring for a bit longer than he might’ve liked to, blinking as he sat in silence. Remembering that there were cameras he had to act for, he nodded his head, shrugging slightly.
“Ended okay for everyone, thankfully,” he murmured, fiddling with the water bottle in his hands. Lando raised an eyebrow, nodding before turning back to Max to gossip a bit more. Oscar felt a bit stupid at that moment, or rather a little disappointed in himself. If he didn’t keep it together, Lando was going to get suspicious, and when Lando got suspicious, that’s when a good old interrogation would happen. Oscar knew that he’d fold immediately if his teammate got ahold of him.
After all the celebrations and congratulations with the team, Oscar hurried away to the McLaren building to try to get a moment of quiet. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, a lump forming in his throat as he managed to climb up the stairs, exhausted not only by the events of the day but also by how difficult it was getting to not mention anything to Lando. God, he just wanted to know… why? Why had he done that? And why was he acting like he could just go on normally with his day while Oscar tried to work through his thick head why his stupid, quite attractive teammate had decided that kissing him in his sleep was just something good mates did? As he grabbed for the door, Oscar suddenly felt a hand on his shoulders. Not now, please not now.
“What’s the rush, mate?” Oscar turned to face Lando, the Brit’s hair still sticky with champagne and his eyes sparkling with the remaining triumph of his victory. It was difficult to come up with something to say for a moment, which left Oscar staring down at Lando with the most monotonous expression he could manage in a moment where all he wanted to do was scream.
“Uh… just tired, that’s all. Need to sit down for a bit,” he mumbled, stepping inside the building with Lando right behind him. The two stood in the thankfully empty space, silent for a moment as they shared a questioning stare. Lando was questioning Oscar, but Oscar was more so questioning himself. All he wanted to do was say something, yet when he opened his mouth, the lump in his throat caught any words that begged to leave. Instead, he swallowed hard, watching as Lando leaned against the wall, a pout forming on his champagne-kissed lips.
“Liar, liar. You’re always tired, but you’re not always looking like you’ve seen a ghost,” the Brit commented brazenly, waving his hand to address Oscar’s obvious discomfort. “Did something happen? Someone do something to make you upset?” There was a bit of fire in that tone, which Oscar quietly appreciated as he struggled to find a string of words that wouldn’t come out sounding incomprehensible or worse, suspicious.
“No, it’s nothing, really.”
“Did I do something, Oscar?” The way he said that almost knocked the wind out of Oscar. Yes, Lando had in fact done something, but nothing bad, of course. They both knew that, though; there was no way Lando thought his treatment of Oscar lately had been anything but the mark of a good teammate. Yet Oscar’s hesitation seemed to say otherwise.
“Of course you didn’t.” Convincing.
“I did, didn’t I? Was it on track? I was being a bit of a dick for a few laps.”
“No, you were fine, mate. Nothing’s wrong.” Before Oscar knew it, Lando had pushed right up into his personal space, nose inches from his. They looked at each other and blinked, both convinced they had royally fucked up. For some stupid reason, Oscar was able to reason his way through to a response at the awkward angle they now found themselves in. It was simple, really - he didn’t want to lose the man who seemed to care about him most over his own lack of guts. He couldn’t lose the light touches, the twirling of hair. The forehead kisses, most of all, and the possibility of more to come. “Well, I guess there’s one thing.”
“Mmm?”
“When you thought I was napping on Wednesday, I wasn’t actually.” Lando froze immediately, taking one step back from where he’d situated himself in front of Oscar.
“You mean…?”
“Yeah, I was awake for that.”
Lando opened his mouth and closed it again, seemingly struggling to find words. To be fair, Oscar was also struggling to fathom what else he could say about this. They stood there in silence for a moment, refusing the opportunity to make eye contact as they both seemed to think through their responses. The Brit found his first, fidgeting his fingers against his abdomen. “I’m sorry. That was weird of me. I’m seriously stupid for thinking that was an okay thing to do.”
“Lando.”
“You know us Europeans and our stupid kissing, like, don’t even think of it as anything weird. Just think of it like French people, except I’m not French.”
“Landoooo.” Finally, Oscar caught his attention and the two were able to maintain eye contact as the Brit’s aimless rant came to an end. “I didn’t say I hated it or anything.”
“You didn’t?” The faintest bit of desperation entered Lando’s voice as he stared at Oscar. Watching him made the Aussie’s heart do a little tumble in his chest. It wasn’t like Lando was a stable individual, but he was usually quite good at putting on the appearance of confidence, But right then? Well, he looked more like a nervous schoolgirl standing in front of her elementary crush. Oscar managed to smile despite his own nerves, nodding his head.
“I think I liked it quite a lot. That and, well, everything else you’ve done while you think I’m sleeping.”
“Think? So what, I’ve just been doing all this while you’ve been awake?”
“Eh, half-awake sometimes.” The fact that Lando had no clue Oscar might’ve caught onto his naptime habits was almost humorous. But above humor sat another feeling in the Aussie’s head, something that felt quite nice. The warm smile he put on his face seemed to soothe Lando’s nerves a little bit. Now was his chance. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again.”
Something bright flashed instantaneously across Lando’s expression as he stepped closer to Oscar. They were only inches apart now, and Oscar could see every little flicker of joy in his teammate's eyes as they shared a moment of repose. Something so gentle, yet filled with a fierce appreciation that transcended words. Lando’s eyes flitted upwards just slightly, an almost mischievous grin crossing his lips. “May I?”
Oscar smiled softly. “You may.”
His head dipped down just slightly for the barely-shorter man, and he closed his eyes as a pair of soft lips pressed against his forehead. It wasn’t lengthy, barely more than a whisper of skin, but it was enough to melt away every bit of doubt that had settled into Oscar’s heart over the past few days. And without him even saying anything, Lando kissed him again. And again. More and more just kept coming, and Lando’s lips were no longer just on his forehead. They moved to the corner of his eye, to his nose, his cheeks. It was difficult not to let out a giggle as Lando’s lips peppered kisses along his skin, and the subtle noise that left Oscar’s throat had his teammate smiling into his kisses. This was much better than feigning sleep, he decided. He found his arms wrapping around Lando’s shoulders as they stood there, silently hoping that no one from the team would barge in and interrupt their moment together.
After Oscar concluded that almost every bit of his face had now felt Lando’s lips for hopefully not the last time, they pulled apart, though his arms lingered on the Brit’s shoulders. One place hadn’t been kissed yet, but debates about whether that would stay untouched or not were met with unconditional agreement. So he pressed forward slowly, letting his lips touch gently against Lando’s. It was a sweet gesture, and though it lasted only a quick moment, even that millisecond of pressure was enough to send Oscar’s head into a spiral. When he pulled back, the look on Lando’s face clearly sported a look of victory.
“Not half bad, I’d say,” Oscar chuckled slightly under his breath, pulling Lando back closer to him slightly with the arms that were still wrapped around him. The Brit returned the laugh, the corner of his lip dragging up into a smirk.
“I could get used to it. Better when you’re actually awake and looking at me like… that,” Lando gestured to Oscar, drawing a blush from the Aussie. Was he that obvious? Seemed like ‘heart-eyes Piastri,’ as the fans liked to tease, was on full display. It was hard not to give heart eyes when you had just had every inch of your face kissed by Lando Norris, to be fair. For a day that had started out more amazing than he could’ve imagined, it was somehow ending even better. And though Oscar wasn’t sure if anything could top the feeling of winning his home race for Lando, he was sure that a peppering of kisses was not far below it.
Oscar finally took his hands from Lando’s shoulders, crossing his arms and smiling. “I feel like we might have a few minutes to kill. How’s a quick nap on the couch before Andrea comes and drags us off for some debriefing sound?” Even while his face was still burning with a blush he felt like he’d be wearing for quite a long time, there was nothing that could stop Oscar from accepting the prospect of a quick nap. The two of them could talk about things later after a shower and a meal, but a nap came before all else. Lando seemed to agree, a grin spreading across his face as he wrapped an arm around Oscar’s shoulder, leaning his head slightly inward so that the side of it pressed against his teammate’s.
As they sat down on a papaya-colored couch and leaned against each other to escape from everything into their own quiet little comfort, something was finally allowed to rest easy in Oscar’s mind. He let his eyes flutter closed, the physical warmth of Lando’s body against his assuring him that this time, he wouldn’t have to fill his mind with thoughts of the man next to him. No, sleep would come easy, and maybe another kiss on the forehead would have it come even easier.
“I see why they call you the serial napper at this point, innit,” Lando breathed out a laugh. Oscar couldn’t help a smile from creeping across his lips as the lingering feeling of the gentle kisses that had been peppered across his face sent him closer to a pleasant dreamscape.
“Serial nappers at this point,” he barely mumbled, sighing as he felt one last shuffle of the body next to him followed by a peck of lips right below his hairline.
“Serial nappers it is, then.”