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Oscar Piastri survived boarding school by the skin of his teeth in the sense that he learned the other boys there didn’t like that he liked the way pretty boys with curly hair, tanned skin, and bright eyes made his stomach feel all fluttery and his face go bright red. It shaped him into the man he was today; shameful and guilty and angry. He shoved parts of himself downward in hopes they would go dormant as he grew into his teens, liking men turned into something embarrassing, something to be ashamed of, something that made him feel borderline sick when he thought about it. It stayed comatose as he met and started dating Lily at seventeen, he went about his day-to-day without thinking about it unless someone particularly attractive walked his way but even then he shoved it down, down, down.
And then he met Lando Norris face to face for the first time.
Suddenly his learnings from boarding school weren’t enough to make his brain stop spinning fantasies about pretty green eyes that turned different hues in different lights, tanned smooth skin littered in moles, and wild curls that couldn’t be tamed by even the rain outside the McLaren headquarters. Oscar had just stared at him, tried to make awkward remarks back when he was spoken to in that timbre voice that Lily’s princess-esque tone paled in comparison to.
These feelings continue on for three more guilt ridden years, chock-full of stolen glances, late night chats where Oscar shared just a bit too much; his feelings overflowing when he was around Lando, banter like flirting that Oscar swore to himself was normal for two men, perfectly fine and safe for someone with a girlfriend, and physical affection that he wasn’t used to having from a teammate.
Meeting Lando Norris was a countdown on his longest lasting relationship, the beginning of his Formula One career, and the start of a long torturous mess of self destruction and later acceptance; Something they don’t teach you in boarding school is how to accept yourself for who you are nor how to live with the consequences of your actions so when Oscar wakes up in Lando’s bed the week after Lily broke things off he almost starts crying as soon as he sits up.
Warm, strong arms are wrapped around his bare waist and he feels his body shrink in on itself as he’s engulfed in Lando’s leftover cologne. Oscar’s body shakes with a sob and he shoves his face in his hands, his brain has completely flatlined and iniquity is rotting in his stomach like a body in a grave. He’s tired but not enough to fall back asleep in Lando’s arms, even if he allows one of his tear stained hands to fall and grab hold of Lando’s own. He’s emotionally rinsed and ready to collapse in whoever will take him but it just cannot be a another man because if it’s a man his education will have taught him nothing and he’s supposed to have carried everything from school with him, from being a driver to his everyday life he hauls it around with him like a boulder on his shoulders.
The only time he doesn’t feel the weight is when he’s with Lando.
Even as his brain screams at him he allows his trembling body to sink into Lando’s, he falls back against the mattress again and burrows his face into the older’s chest with the means to shut his own brain up, it’s almost successful as Lando immediately begins shushing him and cradles his head gently, carding his fingers through Oscar’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. Shuddering breaths and more tears later, Oscar knows there’s no way out so he huffs and mumbles out a small “Sorry, wasn’t tryna have a meltdown the morning after.” In response, Lando giggles boyishly, smoothing down princely waves and muttering “You just got broken up with and then slept with a man, I reckon it’s needed.” Oscar nods against his chest.
He’s not surprised last night happened in the slightest; his heart hasn’t been with Lily in months, call it emotional infidelity or whatever you want but Oscar knows what he wants and it was always going to be dark brown untamable curls, tanned mole covered skin, and ever changing bright eyes, it was just shoved away in a box in his brain to be forgotten about until it eventually came to a head and exploded.
Lando traces the moles on his back like a constellation and Oscar forgets what it feels like to push his feelings down so low into a cave that they’re practically invisible, he’s still in boxers only and Lando’s touch is warm on his skin and he isn’t sure he’s felt like this with anyone else. This airiness, the lightness, the love that’s burrowing deep in his ribcage like a parasite. He wants to scream or kick or cry more but he stays silent, tears drying on his face as he allows his eyes to shut, he’s not going to sleep, he’s listening to the sound of Lando’s heartbeat and the gentle inhales and exhales of his breathing until Oscar’s own breathing has synced with his.
“This is a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?” Oscar’s soft voice cuts through exhausted silence.
He hooks his chin over Lando’s shoulder, they’re fully embracing now and Oscar’s gone pliant in Lando’s arms. “What’do you mean?” Lando’s voice is gentle, tired, sweet in a way that makes Oscar feel like his teeth are rotting. “I had a girlfriend of over six years last week.” A beat of silence. “And now I’m laying in bed with my teammate of three years. Fuck.” Oscar shoves his head back into the other man’s shoulder as if he’s just realized the gravity of the situation.
Lando sighs and rubs the younger man’s back.
His touch is too soft, Oscar is undeserving of something so special, goosebumps rise on his skin. He’s pretty certain he loves this man but he’s so tired of sweet words of confession and gentleness. He wants to be brash and spontaneous, wants to allow his mouth to spit fire without care unlike the polite way he was raised, no more “please” and “thank you”s, he wants to just let it out because he’s not a scared child in a big boarding school anymore. So untucks his face from Lando’s body and he speaks and doesn’t think of the consequences.
“This is really rushed and I know it seems soon but I'll explain that if you need it, y’know whatever, but I love you, in like… um—a more than just this encounter way. I’d sleep in your bed seven days a week if you let me but that’s a bit unrealistic with how much we travel so maybe over breaks or some—.”
Lando cuts him off with a kiss.
“You talk too much. I don’t need an explanation, you think you’re a closed book and you’re really not. I understand you. I love you. Relax.”
Oscar melts back into Lando, a gentle sigh leaving his mouth. He'd love to spend a day in Lando’s shoes and see what exactly he sees in Oscar but he doesn’t dwell on it. Instead he presses a kiss over Lando’s heart and nods against him.
“Get some sleep, yeah? We’ll talk when you wake up.”
Oscar dreams of mole spattered soft skin, green eyes that are sometimes amber, scar ridden noses, and curls that he’s tried to tame with his fingers to no avail.
The guilt doesn’t leave but neither does the love.