Chapter Text
The next few race weekends passed in a quiet kind of rhythm.
They didn’t talk about what had happened that first weekend, not really. But Lando drifted to Oscar’s room each night, sometimes right on the edge of his little headspace, sometimes just tired to his bones and in need of something steady. Oscar never asked questions, just made space.
They’d orbit around each other, sometimes talking, sometimes not. Oscar would hold his hand out for Lando’s keycard, go back to his room to collect his things, and come back to Lando laying on the bed wearing one of Oscar’s hoodies, with the sleeves pulled down over his hands. He’d quietly hand Lando his bunny with an indulgent smile, and climb onto the bed so Lando could curl up against him.
In the mornings, Oscar would gently coax Lando into the shower, into getting dressed, into putting his shoes on, and he’d quietly pack both of their bags before they left together. If anyone noticed, no one said anything.
Lando didn’t seek out comfort explicitly, but sometimes he’d walk close enough to Oscar that they could press the backs of their hands together, and sometimes he’d rest his head on his shoulder, and sometimes - when he thought no one was watching - he’d carefully put his bag on his lap and unzip it just enough that he could sneak a hand in and rub his fingers against his bunny.
They didn’t always travel together, but when they did, Oscar would wordlessly hand Lando snacks and bottles of water, quietly checking in when no one else was watching.
Lando was still conscious of not being little around anyone other than Oscar, but that didn’t mean that it was easy. He’d mindlessly chew on the side of his thumb, or fidget with the hem of his hoodie in boring debriefs. He sometimes found his mind going fuzzy round the edges and feel the familiar ache in the base of his skull.
Those days, he’d return to the hotel and show up at Oscar’s door without a word, let him stroke his hair and tuck him into bed with his dummy. Some mornings, he’d wake up in the weird in-between space and roll the hem of Oscar’s t-shirt between his fingers and listen to his breathing and carefully ease himself back into his big headspace.
The unspoken routine they’d settled into eased something in Lando. There was comfort in knowing what to expect, in the way Oscar made room for all of him, even the parts Lando was still learning to live with. In the familiarity and gentleness, especially after the difficulties of the first weekend.
And then, suddenly, it was the summer break. The season paused. The routine of race weekends was suspended. There were no schedules to chase, no back-to-back logistics, no travel, no hotel rooms - just stillness.
Which meant time. And space.
And the question Lando hadn’t built up the courage to ask. What does this look like, when we’re not doing it just to survive?
-
They’d both travelled back to Monaco at the start of the summer break. Lando had sat on the plane and chewed the side of his thumb and fidgeted with his bag and desperately wanted to unzip it and feel the softness of his bunny’s fur between his fingers. He’d avoided eye contact with Oscar for the whole journey, and left as soon as he could after they’d landed, without saying goodbye.
He drove back to his apartment trying not to think about curling up in bed next to Oscar or the way his hands felt as he traced gentle circles on his back or the warm familiarity when he reminded him to drink enough or eat something.
Before Oscar, he’d coped, he’d survived. He’d been fine. And Oscar hadn’t said anything about wanting them to spend any time together even though they’d be in walking distance of each other. Maybe he needed a break from Lando. Which, he figured, was fair enough. Lando had asked for so much, and Oscar had just given and given and given. He’d be fine for a couple of weeks.
He opened the door to his apartment, slinging his backpack on the sofa. He stood in front of the fridge, looking for something to eat. Someone had been round to fill it with Jon-approved meals and snacks, but nothing felt right. He sighed through his nose and closed the door, trying not to think of the way Oscar hummed gentle praise as he fed him. He was fine.
Except… He could feel the ache in the base of his skull and the tug of his little headspace. He thought about being little before Oscar, about dipping his toe in and being so cautious to stop himself from going in too deep because he always had to know he’d be able to pull himself back up again.
That was the thing, he realised; that had changed now. He never had to worry about going too deep because he knew Oscar had him, would catch him, would look after him no matter what. So he’d lost what it meant to keep that tether to his big headspace, what it meant to keep himself just on the edge of his headspace, to make sure he could look after himself.
And now, sitting on the sofa in the dark in his apartment all alone, feeling the tug on his headspace and not knowing how long he could keep it at bay, Lando felt more anxious than he’d like to admit. He wasn’t sure he could do this on his own any more. Wasn’t sure he remembered how. He slipped his thumb into his mouth. He unzipped his rucksack and let his fingers seek out the softness of his bunny’s fur. He couldn’t bring himself to get it out because he knew that the minute he did, the nebulous grip he had on the last shreds of his big headspace would disappear, trickling through his fingers.
He squeezed his eyes closed. He was fine. He tried to remember what it was like before Oscar, but all he could think of was cosy hoodies and soft breathing and crinkly-eyed smiles and gentle encouragement and someone else’s hand brushing his teeth for him. His breath stuttered a little as he tried not to cry. He was fine. He had to be.
He tried again, thought of curling up in bed and crying and feeling overwhelmed with want want want, only before he wasn’t sure what he wanted, and now he knew; Oscar Oscar Oscar. He stroked the bunny’s ear, imagined Oscar being there to gently place it in his lap and wrap his arms around him and hold out his dummy for him so he didn’t make his thumb sore.
He missed him so much, it physically hurt. He could feel the ache in his chest, the space where Oscar should be. He felt tears on his cheeks. He sniffed. He was fine.
He lay on his side on the sofa, one hand still in his backpack, stroking his bunny, and his other thumb in his mouth. He cried quietly, felt his little headspace creep forward like the tide coming in until it had washed away every remnant of big. It felt like his heartbeat was saying Oscar Oscar Oscar. He fell asleep thinking about gentle light in the curtains and gentle hands brushing his hair off his face and gentle words - goodnight, love. He wasn’t fine.
-
He woke up a few hours later, wet and still little. His hand still in his rucksack. He fumbled around, past the bunny, to find his phone. He started crying quietly as he tried to remember how to use it, tried to find Oscar’s contact. Held a shaking finger over the call button. He put his thumb in his mouth.
The phone rang and he wanted to hang up immediately. He could feel the pull of his big headspace, the guilt and anxiety of calling Oscar this early for something so silly. But he could also feel the ache of his little headspace and the way his brain couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t Oscar.
‘Hello?’ Oscar’s voice was scratchy and full of sleep. Lando’s breath hitched in his chest. He’d woken him up - of course he had - and now he had to try and remember why he was calling.
‘Lando? Are you ok?’ His voice was quiet and gentle, the special voice he used when Lando was little and Oscar was just there.
Lando sniffed. He shook his head. He remembered Oscar couldn’t see him. He made a little noise in the back of his throat and hoped Oscar would understand.
‘Stay where you are, love, ok?’
Lando could hear rustling on the other side of the call. Oscar pulling on clothes, opening his door.
‘Are you at home?’
Lando nodded.
‘Lando? I need you to use your words, baby, just for a little bit longer ok? I’m on my way. Are you at home?’
‘Yes,’ Lando said, in a tiny voice.
‘Good boy. I am so proud of you. Stay on the phone ok? I’m coming over. You did such a good job, calling me like this. I’ll be there soon.’
Lando sniffed. He was still crying, his thumb still in his mouth. He could hear Oscar breathing on the phone as he walked as quickly as he could to Lando’s apartment building.
‘Lando? One more thing, sweetheart, then I’ll be there, ok? I need you to let me in, can you do that? If I buzz can you let me in and get your front door open?’
Lando thought about it for a second. He wasn’t sure he could move, but he needed Oscar. He nodded, then remembered what Oscar had said about using his words. ‘Yes,’ he said again in the same tiny voice.
‘You are doing so well, you’re being so brave. I’m nearly here, wait by your buzzer yeah? I’ll call up in a minute.’
Lando sat up and blinked through the dizziness. His jeans were heavy on his thighs where they were wet. Cold now, and itchy. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to feel it. He thought vaguely that he’d be annoyed about the sofa being ruined when he was big again. He walked to his front door.
‘I’m just outside, love. I’m calling up now.’
The buzzer rang and Lando jumped, even though Oscar had told him it was coming. He whined a little.
‘Shh, shh,’ Oscar said softly down the phone. ‘You’re doing so well. Open the door, I’ll be there in a second.’
Lando buzzed Oscar up. He stood in front of the door. He sniffed and wiped his cheeks, and listened to Oscar waiting for the lift, still saying gentle things like good boy, you’re doing so well. He opened the door as soon as Oscar had knocked gently and immediately clung to him, dropping his phone on the floor and burying his face into Oscar’s neck. Oscar gave a soft little sound as Lando folded into him, immediately rubbing his back and kissing the top of his head.
‘Shh, I’m here now, I’m here now.’
Lando sobbed and grabbed fistfuls of Oscar’s hoodie. He smelt like sleep and laundry and home and comfort, and Lando hadn’t realised how adrift he’d been until Oscar was here to anchor him.
‘Oh my sweet boy, you’ve been having a really tough time, hey?’ Oscar kept stroking gentle circles on his back, as he took a step forward into Lando’s apartment and let the door click shut behind them.
Now he’d started, Lando couldn’t stop crying, clinging to Oscar and gulping in lungfuls of him. His whole body felt too tight, like his skin was too small. Oscar just held him. Like he wasn’t unravelled and messy and loud. Like he was precious. Like he was safe.
They stood in the hallway, Oscar rocking gently side to side, arms wrapped around Lando like a lifeline. He ran one hand up and down his back, the other one in the nape of his neck, fingers buried in damp curls. He kept up a steady stream of quiet praise murmured right in Lando’s ear.
‘You’re ok, you’re safe, I’m here, I’ve got you. Shh, shh, good boy. You’ve been so brave. My brave boy. I’m here now, you’re ok.’
Eventually, Lando’s sobbing eased off until he was hiccupping into Oscar’s shoulder.
‘Good boy. You were holding that in for a long time, hmm?’ Oscar’s voice was warm and low. Lando put his thumb in his mouth and nodded.
‘Where’s your dummy, love?’
Lando shrugged. He did know but he wasn’t sure how to answer. Wasn’t sure if he could answer. He sniffed, and tangled his fingers in the hem of Oscar’s hoodie. The tears were still coming. He didn’t even know what he was crying about any more, just that Oscar was here, that he’d come for him, and that felt overwhelming.
‘Shall we get you cleaned up?’ Oscar said gently.
Lando felt his cheeks flush. He buried his face in Oscar’s shoulder.
‘Hey, hey. Shh. It’s ok.’
He rubbed circles on the small of Lando’s back.
‘I’m not cross with you. You’re ok. It’s alright. I’m here, I’ve got you. Do you want me to decide?’
Lando nodded against his shoulder.
‘I think we should go and get you clean and find some comfy clothes and see if we can get some more sleep, hmm? We can find your dummy and your bunny and we can have a cuddle and everything else can wait til the the morning.’
Lando sighed. He sniffed again. The tears had slowed down now, and he was so tired.
Oscar wiped Lando’s cheeks with his sleeve. He smiled softly, and held his hand out for Lando to take. He led him slowly to the bathroom, closed the lid of the toilet and sat him down as he ran a bath.
Lando closed his eyes and swayed a little as he sat there. He was tired to his very bones. He just wanted to sleep.
‘Come on, tired boy,’ Oscar said, gently, rubbing his shoulder. Lando leant into the touch. He let Oscar undress him, whining a little in the back of his throat, but Oscar just stroked his back and murmured, there you are, my good boy.
When he was sitting in the bath, he let Oscar wash him gently, closing his eyes and keeping his thumb tucked in his mouth and breathing through his nose. Oscar spoke to him, low and gentle, but Lando didn’t really know what he was saying. He felt too small to feel anything other than safe, hear anything other than just Oscar.
Oscar coaxed him gently out of the tub when he’d finished washing him. He stood on the bathmat blinking sleepily and rubbing his eyes with clumsy fists. Oscar wrapped him in a thick towel and held him close for a moment, pressing a kiss to his temple.
‘Good boy,’ he whispered. ‘You did such a good job.’
Lando hummed softly against his chest. Oscar led him into the bedroom, dried him off gently, unzipped his suitcase to find a clean pull-up and one of Oscar’s soft t-shirts that Lando had taken to sleeping in.
Oscar helped Lando under the covers, then whispered wait there, one second, sweetheart, and then he was gone and Lando sucked his thumb and watched the door until he came back with his bunny and his dummy. He held the bunny out first, and Lando took it immediately, pressing it to his chest. He rubbed the soft edge of one floppy ear between his fingers.
‘Think he missed you.’ Oscar smiled gently as he held out the dummy for Lando to take in his mouth.
Lando hummed around his dummy. I missed him, he wanted to say. I missed you. I missed this. But he didn’t know if he could speak so instead he held his hand out and curled his fingers between Oscar’s.
-
When he woke the next morning, he was curled against Oscar, his bunny pressed between them. He was in the strange no-man’s-land between big and little, could feel how his limbs felt different - heavier, bigger - and how his dummy felt… not wrong, exactly, but not needed. A comfort, rather than a necessity.
That was always the shift - when it went from need to want.
And then the want became guilt.
Lando let out a small breath and closed his eyes. Maybe if he stayed still enough, quiet enough, he could hold onto it for a little longer. Just a bit. He liked being held. He liked Oscar’s heartbeat and the way he stroked his neck and when he whispered my good boy. He liked not having to worry about what came next.
He could tell Oscar was waking up next to him. He felt the way he shifted, just slightly. A long, slow breath. Then, a kiss brushed against the top of his head.
‘Morning, sweetheart,’ Oscar murmured, his voice still thick sleep. He rubbed a hand against Lando’s back.
Lando swallowed around his dummy. The buzz under his skin was getting too much to ignore. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. He opened his eyes, reached up to take out his dummy.
‘I’m…’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. For, like, calling and stuff.’
‘Please don’t be. I’m glad you called.’
‘I just thought I could do it. Like before.’
Oscar’s fingers ran through the curls at the nape of his neck.
‘You weren’t really doing it before, Lando.’
‘Yeah but, I was trying. And now I feel like I can’t even try without you. And I thought… maybe you needed a break and I thought we were done with this, doing it because I was… like this. All messy. I feel like I broke it.’
Oscar’s fingers still for a second, before they moved again, carding through his curls.
‘You’re not messy, Lando. And I’m sorry that I made you feel like I needed a break. I love looking after you. I love the time we spend together. All the versions of you. I liked the routine we were finding, and, yeah, I was a bit worried about the summer break and about what that was going to look like but I guess I just assumed we’d figure it out, like we had been doing. And I’m sorry that I didn’t communicate that better.’
Lando closed his eyes and tried to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat.
‘It’s not a problem if we get here because you need to, nothing’s broken. We’ll get back into a routine. We’ll make a new one. I’m here, I’ve got you. And I’ll always be here when it happens.’
‘I missed you,’ Lando whispered.
Oscar lent down and kissed his temple. ‘I missed you too.’
-
Lando stayed quiet for a little while, curled into Oscar’s side, brushing the soft fur of his bunny between his fingers. He’d put his dummy back in, thinking of the way Oscar would tell him he didn’t have to earn comfort, didn’t have to earn feeling safe.
Something was fidgeting at the back of his brain, tugging at the edges of his thoughts.
He took a deep breath. Nuzzled closer. Rolled his dummy to the side of his mouth. Then, in a voice so small Oscar might have missed it if they weren’t curled together so closely, he said, ‘Can we talk about it?’
Oscar didn’t have to ask what it was. He just nodded. ‘Of course we can. Whenever you’re ready.’
Lando chewed the bulb of the dummy before reaching up to take it out. ‘I just…’ He shifted slightly so he could see Oscar as he glanced up. ‘I don’t know what this is meant to look like. Like, not just when I’m… like this. But all the other times too.’
Oscar nodded again. He made an encouraging little sound in the back of his throat.
‘I don’t want this to be just, like, a… a crisis thing? Like when I fall and you have to come and, I dunno, rescue me.’ Lando took a deep breath. ‘I like the soft bits too. I like it when you look after me, even when I’m not little. I don’t want to feel guilty about it and I do but I want to work on it because I like it. I just don’t know what to call any of that, or how it’s supposed to work. I don’t think I’m very good at being a little. But I know I don’t want it to stop.’
Oscar brushed a curl back from Lando’s forehead. ‘I don’t want to stop either.’
Lando looked up at him. Oscar’s expression was warm and impossibly kind.
‘It doesn’t have to be anything except what works for us. There isn’t a right way to do this. We get to make the rules.’
‘What if… what if I just want it too much?’
‘I think you forget how much I want to too, hmm?’ Oscar’s voice was gentle, and he brushed a kiss against Lando’s temple. ‘This is something we both need. Biologically, or whatever. It’s a part of who we are. Both of us.’
Lando tucked his head back into the crook of Oscar’s neck.
‘What about…what about if I just need days where I don’t have to fight it?’ he asked, quietly.
Oscar patted the bed until he found Lando’s dummy and held it out for him. ‘Then don’t fight it, baby. I’m here. I’ve got you. We can figure this out together. We don’t have to wait for the world to be falling apart to spend time like this.’
Lando breathed out through his nose. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah,’ Oscar said. ‘Always.’