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Oscar skimmed over another slide, brain barely comprehending the words radiating off the glaringly bright screen of his laptop. He had an AP chem test, and his GPA needed to stay up.
The doorbell rang, the chimes reverberating through the silent Piastri household. Oscar pushed himself up from the desk and padded down the stairs. Through the glass detailing on the front door, he could see a curly head of hair peeking out of a gray hoodie. What type of lunatic showed up at people’s doors past midnight?
Oscar opened the microphone on the doorbell app. It might’ve been creepy, but he wasn’t risking anything.
“Hello?”
The head of hair jolted before looking side to side, trying to locate the source of his voice.
“Oscar?”
The response was tinny through his phone speaker, but Oscar would recognize the voice anywhere.
The late-spring midnight air hit him full force as he opened the door. It was damp and balmy, and his boyfriend was standing in his doorway, swallowed up in one of Oscar’s sweatshirts, a school football one from sophomore year, team name and Oscar’s eight-one proudly printed on the back in papaya.
Lando smiled up at him, a little sheepish.
“Hi!”
Oscar leant against the doorframe, the wood of the door digging into his shoulder barely registering in his mind as he grinned down at his boyfriend.
“Hi to you too, Lando. What’re you doing here so late on a Monday night?”
Lando scoffed, brushing past Oscar into the foyer.
“Seeing you, obviously.”
Oscar trailed after Lando, who had taken a seat on the decorative stool his mother had carefully selected from their local HomeGoods. Oscar raised an eyebrow. Lando giggled.
“Was wondering if you wanted to go get ice cream?”
Ice cream did sound pretty good, but,
“I’m supposed to be on my meal plan for summer conditioning, and you’re still in the middle of track season. Besides, isn’t everywhere closed?”
Lando shrugged.
“A little sweet treat won’t hurt anyone. You can get that horrid dairy-free sugar-free keto flavor if you want. And that one ice cream store, the one with the LED sign of a maraschino cherry in the window, doesn’t close until one am.”
“Lando, I need to study, and the track coach would not be happy. I know he’s a stickler for proper nutrition.”
Lando pouted. Oscar felt immediately guilty.
“Please? Your studying can wait an hour.”
“I have a chem test tomorrow.”
Lando’s face immediately grew somber. He had taken chem and almost failed.
“Oh god, you should’ve started with that.”
Oscar laughed, pulling Lando up from where he was perched on the stool.
“But my mom did buy those Haagen-Dazs ice cream bars when she went to Costco yesterday, and what our coaches don’t know will never hurt them.”
Lando practically dragged Oscar down the steps into the garage. He pretty much lived at Oscar’s house during the weekends, and had ventured far enough to know that the Piastris stored their frozen treats in their outside fridge.
Thirty minutes later, Oscar was back at his desk, ice cream in hand, skimming over notes on the steps of a proper titration. Lando, presumably, was flopped on Oscar’s bed, phone in hand watching some video, ice cream long gone.
“Do you ever think about Laika the space dog?” Lando’s voice sounded from the other side of the room, slightly muffled by the edge of Oscar’s navy comforter.
Oscar clicked into his last review unit, scrolling down to the difficult material.
“No, not particularly.”
Lando sniffled.
“How can you not? Think about how scared she must’ve been, all alone in space, forsaken by her trainers,” Lando said, voice trembling just enough that Oscar could tell that–
“Mate, are you crying?”
“Laika died alone in space, and you ask if I'm crying?”
Lando was definitely crying, based on the tears that were glistening on his cheeks, eyes trained on his phone screen.
“Look!” He flipped the screen, showing a black and white montage of a dog sitting in an ominous looking metal capsule, set to mournful Adele music. “It was a one-way death trip, and they sacrificed Laika knowing she would die alone!”
Oscar suppressed a smile at Lando’s antics. He had, indeed, thought of Laika the space dog before, when he was much younger and much more sensitive. But he had never been reduced to tears at the thought of the dog.
Oscar sat down next to where Lando was curled up on the bed, brushing away a tear that was making a slow track down his boyfriend’s cheek.
“Very sad indeed.”
“Stop making fun of me!” Lando cried indignantly, propping himself up on an elbow to glare up at Oscar. “Don’t you have a chem test to study for?”
Oscar flicked the brunette’s forehead, before leaning down to place a chaste kiss in the same spot.
“Finished, and I was going to ace it anyways.”
“Shut up,” Lando whined, pulling Oscar down onto the bed. “Football-playing, actually-good-at-chemistry, Laika-the-space-dog hating heathen.”
“I never said I hated Laika, and I’m your heathen, so you have to put up with me.”
Lando sighed, sending a long-suffering glare to Oscar before wrapping his boyfriend’s arms around his waist.
“Just be quiet and sleep.”
Lando could feel Oscar shake with silent laughter behind him.
….
Lando had woken up feeling like shit. After shooting a quick text to his parents, who were on vacation, informing him of his impending school absence, Lando flopped back into his bed, promptly falling asleep.
He woke up to afternoon sunlight streaming through his window. Christ, how long had he slept? Flipping his phone over from where it lay on the nightstand, the time glared up at him. One PM. He still felt terrible. Lando flopped over onto his stomach, and let the feverish sleep take him again.
Oscar was worried. Lando hadn’t shown up to school or answered a single text or call. Very out of character for the chatty brunette. And then a text notification from Lando’s mom arrived right after his gym session, asking Oscar to check up on her son. Dutifully, Oscar marched into the Norris household with the key Lando had presented him with on their six-month anniversary and padded up their winding staircase, armed with a thermometer and a plethora of supplies snagged from the medicine cabinet in the downstairs bathroom. Oscar continued down the hall, to the very last door. Opening the door revealed one very disheveled Lando Norris, face down and snoring in his bed, gray comforter tangled around his bare legs.
“Lando?”
Oscar reached out a hand, giving the boy a gentle shake to wake him.
Lando grunted in response, flipping over on his back, opening his eyes to see Oscar looming above him.
“Osco,” Lando murmured, voice gravelly from sleep and hoarse from sickness. “I think I’m sick.”
Lando coughed into his elbow, sniffing once or twice.
“You think? Let me take your temperature.”
Obediently, Lando opened his mouth, letting Oscar slide the cold metal thermometer under his tongue. A few moments later, it beeped twice, providing Oscar with the temperature reading of,
“Damn, 101.3,” Oscar whispered. “Have you taken anything?”
Lando shook his head. He couldn’t fathom making the journey out of his room, down the stairs, to the bathroom and all the way back to his bed.
Oscar tutted at him, wagging a finger before getting up and retrieving a bottle of medicine.
Lando took the offered white pills, downing them with a gulp of water from Oscar’s bottle.
“I’m cold.” He was hot the last time he was awake, and now he was freezing. Why couldn’t his body make up its mind?
“Well, mate, you’re wearing boxers and your room is freezing,” Oscar chided, gathering a pair of presumably clean sweatpants from the floor of Lando’s messy room. He pulled a sweatshirt out of his bag, one of his own, and handed it to Lando to put on with the sweatpants.
“Thanks, Osco.”
“You’re welcome, Lando. Now eat this pack of crackers.”
Lando’s gaze shot to the pack of saltines, eyeing them warily.
“Do I have to?”
Oscar nodded, opening the pack and offering two crackers to Lando with an outstretched hand.
“The meds will make your stomach hurt if you don’t eat.”
The explanation made sense, but Lando still groaned, making a show of picking up the crackers one by one and slowly chewing. Oscar watched him evenly the entire time, forever patient.
After the crackers were gone, Oscar wordlessly extended the water bottle, lid already unscrewed. Huffing, he sipped at it until Oscar seemed satisfied enough and retracted the bottle.
“Okay. Go back to bed,” Oscar ordered, pulling the comforter over Lando, whose eyes were already half-shut.
The next time Lando woke up, he was pillowed on his boyfriend’s chest. The pounding in his head seemed to have subsided. It was dark outside, and a cool breeze blew in from the open window. Oscar had his half-finished American Literature essay pulled up on his laptop, and was typing away, unaware of Lando’s consciousness from where he was draped over his side.
“Nerd.” Was the first thing Lando coughed out. Oscar’s gaze whipped to him, a hand carding through Lando’s curls.
“This nerd had an essay due tomorrow but had to come over and save you from dying of the plague,” Oscar retorted, pressing a quick kiss to Lando’s chapped lips.
“But you love me–” Lando sing-songed, dragging a finger down Oscar’s solid chest.
“Sadly, I do.”
The sentence earned a gentle slap from Lando.
“Do you feel like sleeping more?”
“I’ve been sleeping all day, and you ask if I want to sleep more?”
Oscar shrugged.
“Hey, you never know. If you don’t–” Oscar reached over the side of the bed, picking up a tub of–
“Is that ice cream?” Lando nearly shouted.
Oscar laughed, popping open the lid and magically procuring a spoon from the nightstand. He dug the spoon in, feeding Lando a mouthful.
“Cotton candy?” Lando realized.
“Yep. Your favorite. Figured you needed some cheering up, so I had Logan bring it over.” Oscar handed over the tub to Lando, along with the spoon. “Don’t go too ham, you’re still sick.”
Lando giggled in delight, reaching up to give Oscar a bite. The blonde grimaced, lips pressed into a disgusted line.
“Have no idea how you like cotton candy, mate. This shit’s nasty.”
Lando frowned, dramatically retracting the spoon.
“Okay, well then, just don’t have any.”
Oscar cupped Lando’s jaw, turning his head to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.
“Cotton candy tastes a lot better on your lips,” Oscar murmured. Lando laughed out loud, playfully shoving Oscar’s shoulder.
“You can’t be doing that while I’m sick, mate,” Lando said, pecking Oscar’s cheek instead. “Gonna spread the plague to you if you’re not careful.”
“We literally just shared a spoon, Lando, and I’ve been kissing you this whole time.”
“You talk too much. Now let me enjoy my ice cream.”
Oscar cupped Lando’s jaw, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth.
On Lando’s lips, cotton candy ice cream was the best thing he had ever tasted.
….
“Oscar!”
The blonde’s head peeked out from the open sliding door to the deck. The Norris family’s cape cod lake house had an abundance of constant sunshine, and Oscar was determined to soak up every second of it.
“Yeah?”
Lando smiled, swinging a set of keys around his pointer finger. Oscar slips on his shoes and then they’re both nestled into Lando’s gray Toyota Prius, laughing at Lando’s terrible driving as they make their way down into town, barely missing a pedestrian trying to cross the road with their stubborn corgi.
The ice cream parlor door chimed, and a black-haired teenage girl looked up to greet them. Lando waved in response, stepping up to the counter to order without needing to look at their flavor selection.
“Double scoop of cotton candy in a waffle cone, please.” Their server, Soph, as read on her shiny silver name tag, shot Lando a slightly judgemental glance before turning her attention to Oscar.
“And what for you, sir?”
“Just a scoop of vanilla in a dish.”
“Boring,” Lando grumbled, elbowing Oscar in the side.
“Classic,” Oscar argued. “Vanilla will always be good, no matter where it’s from.”
Lando took Oscar’s outstretched debit card, deftly swiping it and handing it back to his boyfriend.
“Yeah, but cotton candy’s a worthy risk.”
“Maybe to you. Not to the rest of us.”
Lando stole a bite of Oscar’s vanilla.
“Boring,” Lando singsonged.
Oscar rolled his eyes, playfully stealing a bite of the swirly pink and blue cotton candy. He made a face. It tasted identical to what he expected.
“You do you.”
They sat down on the pier, watching the deep blue waves lap at their feet. The sun was bright, melting their ice cream into trickles of sweet stickiness down their hands. Lando’s head rested on Oscar’s shoulder, and he couldn’t be happier.
“Do you think we’ll always be together?” Lando’s gaze traveled to where Oscar was fidgeting with his orange beaded bracelet, its twin settled on Lando’s own wrist.
Oscar took a thoughtful bite of his half-melted ice cream, focus fixed somewhere on the horizon line.
“Are you happy when you’re with me?”
Lando was taken aback by the question.
“What type of question is that? Of course I’m happy when I’m with you.”
Oscar turned to Lando, a smile that rivaled the sun on his face.
“And I’m the happiest I’ve ever been when I’m with you. I think that answers your question.”
Lando closed the space between them, feeling Oscar’s hand slide into his hair. He tasted like creamy vanilla and a bit of cotton candy, a mix of them together.
“I think it does, too.”