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From the moment that Lando caught a yellow flag at the end of his final lap, he had been feeling on edge.
Mclaren had just announced that he had been given the role of their first driver, and this is all he could give them? He begrudgingly hauled himself out of the car, brushing off his engineer's apologies.
He went through his interviews on autopilot. Afterwards, numbly congratulating Charles on his pole—it should’ve been him. He avoided Oscar’s worried gaze, afraid that locking eyes with his boyfriend would be his last straw. Lando fled to his confined room, resorting to aggressively rubbing his face to hold back his tears.
He slumped down onto his makeshift bed, picking up his phone. He was greeted by a sweet text from Oscar that read:
“Hey Lan, bad luck today. Mind if I come to your hotel room later?”
Lando smiled wetly at the thoughtful text—very Oscar, he thought—telling the Aussie that he can always come round.
After finishing up everything as quickly as he could, he trudged over to a taxi, finally starting his journey back to the hotel.
It felt like a lifetime, but he eventually made it back. Lando carelessly dumped his bag on the floor, making a beeline for the shower. He let the steaming water run over him, dampening his unruly and sweaty curls. Lightly tilting his head back, he took a few exaggerated breaths, attempting a breathing exercise that Jon taught him long ago.
The Brit ordered himself some food shortly after, needing something to keep his mood up and his tears back.
He flipped open the burger box eagerly, licking his lips at the smell of a fresh cheeseburger without vegetables. He sighed, taking a large bite, focusing on the food. The room felt slightly empty and cold, likely because of the lack of his personal heater—Oscar. But he didn’t want to admit that.
The TV played blairingly in the background, drowning out Lando’s thoughts immediately.
He was entirely zoned out, attempting to put all of his focus onto ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’, refusing to let himself dwell his truly tragic qualifying.
He lost track of time, irregularly drifting in and out of consciousness.
Meanwhile, Oscar was concerned. His dear boyfriend hadn’t replied to any of his texts asking to come round. Now, he could assume that Lando was just asleep, but he knew him too well.
Lando rarely goes to sleep without seeing Oscar first, claiming that the Australian is his “beloved” and that he “must wave him off to bed.” Oscar smiles at the thought of it.
He tried to wait—he did—but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Lando completely alone after the day he had.
Knock. “Lan? You okay? Could you let me in?”
Oh fuck. It’s Oscar, his mind had completely blanked, making him forget about his promise. He stumbled over to the door, vision blurring slightly after being sat for so long.
Oscar had worry etched onto every inch of his face, Lando felt guilty after just looking at him.
He stepped to the slide and allowed Oscar to enter, intertwining their hands, feeling slightly desperate for contact now that his boyfriend arrived.
Oscar looked down at the brunette, “Lando? You seem a bit out of it, what have you been doing?” he asked curiously.
“Mm, what’s the time?” Lando mumbled.
“It’s about eleven, I think?”
Lando’s blue eyes widened, making Oscar furrow his eyebrows.
“Didn’t realise it was that late, Osc. Sorry.” Lando whispered, throat hurting from lack of water.
Oscar hummed quietly, asking if he’s okay. Lando nodded, feeling a little too overwhelmed to speak.
The speed that he had gone from staring directly into a bright TV, to walking around his room and talking was way too fast.
The Australian slowly led his boyfriend over to the large sofa, gently setting him down before fetching him some water.
Lando gulped it down quickly. Damn, he hadn’t realised how dehydrated he was. Oscar watched with big eyes, gently warning him to slow down.
“You feeling better after quali? It was quite a tough session, I’m sorry.” Oscar began.
Lando stiffened. He didn’t want to discuss it really, too many feelings.
“Baby?” Oscar questioned anxiously after Lando’s few seconds of silence.
Lando’s head snapped up. “Oh. Yeah um, fine, I guess. It happens” he said lamely.
Oscar squinted his eyes. “Your face isn’t quite matching your words, Lan. Are you sure? You know I won’t judge.”
Lando swallowed, feeling tears build up again at Oscar’s words.
Is this all it takes to make me cry? Such a fucking crybaby, he thought.
Oscar stared at Lando questioningly. The Brit felt small and slightly fragile under his boyfriend's gaze, laced with unease and worry.
Lando shrunk in on himself, struggling to get words out.
“Baby. You’ve stressed yourself out, hm?” Oscar said sympathetically.
Lando let out a soft cry and covered his mouth with his hand, trying to keep in his sobs.
Oscar encouragingly opened his arms for his boyfriend, Lando easily fell into the soft embrace.
Lando shook his head when asked if he wanted to talk about it, tearily stating that his situation was pretty self explanatory after what happened in qualifying. Oscar accepted his decision easily, returning to rubbing his back soothingly.
The Brit cried silently, soaking his boyfriend’s oversized shirt.
He cried for his qualifying, for the media, and for his constantly lingering insecurity. His mind was so full of thoughts that his head felt heavy, a struggle to lift up. And even when the tears started to dry on his face, he felt too weak to move.
Oscar lightly nudged his boyfriend after twenty minutes of silence, only their breaths and Oscar’s strokes through Lando’s hair could be heard.
He gathered him in his arms, aiding Lando’s walk towards his room. The Australian placed him onto the cold bed, allowing him to curl up and start staring at him expectantly.
“What’s up, baby?” Oscar questioned.
Lando glanced away for a moment, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “Could- “he spoke, voice rasping after not being used. Lando cleared his throat, “Could you- um, stay?” he said, nervously fiddling with the bedsheets.
Oscar smiled sweetly. “Course, baby. I’ll just be a minute”
Oscar cleaned up the brunette's previous mess, discarding the empty burger box and refilling his now, room temperature water. He sleepily plodded back to the room, being greeted by Lando’s insistent whining that he needs to join him.
The Aussie giggles softly and promised he would be just a second, swiftly stripping his shirt that was soaked in Lando’s tears, coming to the conclusion that it was too hot for a shirt. Sweatpants will suffice, he decided.
Oscar slid into bed beside his boyfriend, flicking off the dull bedside lamp and finally tucking them in.
“Thank you, Osc,” Lando slurred sleepily, curling up against Oscar’s warm chest, softly pressing his face against it.
“No problem, Lan,” Oscar replied quietly, gifting Lando a kiss on the forehead, making the shorter hum contently.
“Mm, love you, Osc.”
The Australian smiled fondly down at his boyfriend, who was snuggled right into him, eyes fluttering shut. “Love you too, baby.” He finished sleepily, quietly yawning before warmly enveloping Lando in his arms and allowing himself to drift off to sleep.