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Oscar and Lando had known each other long before jobs or responsibilities tied them together. Back then, things were simpler—nights spent joking around, afternoons wasted on pointless plans that never seemed to matter, because as long as they were together, life always felt easier. They weren’t best friends in the loud, inseparable kind of way, but something steadier, unspoken. Their connection was the type that stayed even when life pulled them in different directions.
When Oscar’s career as an engineer was cut short after the accident, he drifted for a long while, not knowing where to put himself anymore. And when Lando offered him a place—not just as an assistant, but as someone who could be trusted in his home, his day-to-day—it felt more like old friendship finding a new shape than anything formal.
Now, living in Lando’s sprawling house with its quiet corners and endless rooms, Oscar often caught himself remembering the easy days they once shared. It wasn’t quite the same anymore; Lando had grown into his role as a sharp, successful business owner, always carrying himself with that calm authority.
But sometimes, when the sun hit the garden and Spike the parrot squawked out nonsense while perched on his arm, Oscar would still see the boy who used to laugh so freely—and he missed that version more than he could ever admit.
One warm afternoon, Lando was in the garden with Spike. The parrot cackled in delight as Lando held out his arm for him, his feathers shimmering under the sunlight. “Who’s my spoiled parrot?” Lando laughed as Spike mimicked him, bobbing his head playfully.
He was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t realize Oscar was leaning against the doorway, watching with a quiet smile.
Without warning, Spike fluttered his wings and soared across the garden, landing squarely on Oscar’s shoulder.
“Spike, no!” Lando shouted, panic flashing in his voice. He froze when he saw the parrot nuzzling happily against Oscar, chirping contently as if Oscar had been his all along.
Oscar chuckled, reaching up to stroke Spike’s feathers gently. “Looks like your spoiled parrot has a new favorite,” he teased softly.
Lando stared for a moment, his words caught in his throat. He crossed his arms with a huff, trying to disguise the way something tightened in his chest. “Oscar,” he said warningly.
Oscar only smiled, his voice calm and warm at once. “Your clients are here.”
The spell between them broke, and Lando straightened. He gave a small nod, his usual businesslike expression slipping back into place. “I’ll be right there,” he said firmly, following Oscar inside.
Before the meeting, Oscar pushed Spike into his cage gently, then caught Lando by the arm. “Hold on,” he murmured. His sharp eyes scanned Lando’s hair, still mussed from the garden. “Your hair’s a mess.”
Lando lifted an eyebrow. “Is it?” he said in mock indifference, not even moving to fix it.
Oscar sighed softly, stepping closer. He smoothed Lando’s tie, fixed his shirt, and finally ran his fingers through his curls until they fell back into place. “I can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?” he teased gently.
Lando didn’t move away. Instead, a quiet chuckle slipped out. “Probably not,” he admitted. He found himself watching Oscar’s reflection in the mirror, noticing the way just a small sigh or a simple movement could make his chest ache in ways he didn’t understand.
Oscar folded his arms at last. “There. You’re presentable now.”
For a moment, Lando didn’t move. The air between them seemed charged with something unspoken. Then Oscar placed a steady hand on the small of his back, leading him into the hallway.
“Yeah?” Oscar asked softly when Lando hesitated as if to say something.
Lando’s voice dropped, quiet and certain. “You’re really good at this,” he said. He held Oscar’s hand to his back a moment longer, as though reluctant to let it go. Just before they opened the door to the meeting room, Lando added under his breath, “Stay close.”
When the door opened, Oscar slipped easily into his professional mask, sitting beside Lando as though nothing had happened. Clients greeted them warmly, though more than a few eyes lingered on the quiet assistant who sat by Lando’s side, writing notes with calm precision.
The meeting flowed smoothly until one of the men suddenly broke the rhythm. His voice was rough and demanding.
“Lando Norris,” the man growled, “we want you to marry our boss’s daughter.”
Lando’s eyes widened slightly at the sudden request. He kept his composure, though, and didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he looked at Oscar briefly before turning back to the men.
“I appreciate the offer,” he said carefully.
There was something on Oscar’s face then—something quick and sharp, like hurt—but he pushed it away just as fast. He sat up straighter, his expression turning colder.
The rough-voiced man leaned forward intensely. “It’s not just an offer. Consider it a command. Marriage to our princess means protection, wealth...” He slid a photo of a beautiful woman across the table. “She’s educated, speaks three languages...” His gaze flickered to Oscar briefly, deliberate.
Oscar set his pen down and took the photo, studying it. The girl in the picture looked impossibly young, barely an adult. His frown deepened. “Is she even of legal age?”
The man chuckled darkly. “She just turned eighteen last month. Fresh out of high school.” He snatched the photo back roughly.
“So, Norris? You taking the deal or what?” The other man at the table remained silent, watching closely.
Oscar’s shoulders tensed. He had no say in this, and he knew it. Still, the echo of what had just been asked twisted in him. He pushed the hurt away forcefully. Lando wasn’t his—never was, never would be. His eyes dropped back to his notes.
Lando, however, was watching Oscar closely. He noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way he hid that flicker of emotion—hurt, maybe—behind a professional mask. Lando swallowed hard before finally answering.
“I’ll do it,” he said firmly, no hesitation, no emotion showing on his face.
Oscar’s heart cracked. All the quiet hope he had carried, all the feelings he had buried, withered in an instant. His face turned cold, all softness gone. He gave no protest, no reaction—just a single nod as he returned to his notes, hiding every trace of what he felt deep inside.
Lando saw the sudden change in Oscar—all emotion gone, replaced by cold professionalism. It was like watching a door slam shut, and for some reason, it made his chest ache. He forced the feeling aside and continued the meeting, discussing the details of the arranged marriage with the men, his voice steady even though his mind was elsewhere.
When the meeting finally ended, Lando brought the men outside, thanked them for their time, and closed the door behind them. He didn’t linger. The second the door shut, he walked off quickly, already halfway down the hallway by the time Oscar finished closing the entrance. His hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched, his sigh heavy. The ache in his chest grew stronger with every step, pressing on him until
he muttered under his breath.
“Fuck…”
In the garden, Oscar walked back to Spike’s cage. He opened it and let the parrot flutter out. Sitting down in the grass, he buried his face in his hands. Spike landed beside him, nudging his head softly against Oscar’s cheek before climbing onto his shoulder, rubbing against him as though sensing something was wrong.
“I’m stupid, aren’t I?” Oscar whispered, his voice uneven.
Spike made a small, questioning chirp, tilting his head. He rubbed his beak gently against Oscar’s ear, a soft trill escaping him. He wasn’t answering the words, not really, but he understood what Oscar was feeling—the sadness, the weight, the ache inside.
Oscar leaned his head against Spike’s feathers, his voice breaking. “Your papa doesn’t love me… I really thought he did.”
The parrot cooed softly, nudging Oscar’s cheek with affection, as if trying to comfort him. His feathers brushed gently against Oscar’s jaw, warm and grounding in the quiet evening air.
Eventually, Oscar sat up with a sigh. He ruffled Spike’s feathers gently. “Come on, are you hungry? I’ve got some snacks for you. Don’t tell Lando though. He doesn’t like when I spoil you.”
Spike fluttered his wings excitedly, following Oscar back into the house, his feathers puffing as though he already knew he was going to get more than he should. Oscar slipped a small bag of nuts from the cupboard, holding one out. Spike croaked happily, snapping it up, his tail feathers shaking with delight. Oscar smiled faintly at that small bit of joy.
But the moment of calm broke when a voice echoed from the doorway.
“You’re spoiling him again,” Lando said gruffly.
Oscar startled, nearly dropping the second nut in his hand. He turned, finding Lando leaning against the frame in silence. “God, Lando, you scared me,” he muttered, his chest tightening.
Lando didn’t move. He studied Oscar feeding Spike, his expression unreadable, though there was something strange underneath it. He noticed how gentle Oscar was with the bird—gentleness he rarely showed to anyone else. Finally, his eyes sharpened.
“You’re spoiling him again,” Lando repeated.
Oscar rolled his eyes and offered Spike another nut. He shrugged. “He deserves it.”
Lando’s expression softened for a fleeting second at Oscar’s defense, but it disappeared almost instantly. He pushed off the doorway, boots heavy against the kitchen floor, and closed the distance between them quickly. He snatched the remaining nut from Oscar’s hand before Spike could take it.
“No more.”
Spike squawked in protest, and Oscar glared at Lando, crossing his arms defensively. “What’s your problem?”
Lando tossed the nut into the bin with a cold motion, ignoring Spike’s indignant noise. He turned back to Oscar, his voice sharp. He stepped closer, invading Oscar’s space.
“My problem is you coddling that bird and neglecting your actual job,” he snapped.
Oscar let out a bitter laugh. “My actual job? Lando, I’m doing this for free. You don’t even pay me.”
Something dark flickered in Lando’s face. His hand shot out, gripping Oscar’s arm roughly. His fingers dug into the muscle, and for the first time, there was real violence directed at Oscar.
“Don’t be smart with me,” he growled.
He yanked Oscar closer until their faces were inches apart, their breath mingling in the tense silence. Oscar’s eyes widened in shock. Lando had never, not once, turned this kind of anger on him.
“Lando, stop… you’re hurting me,” Oscar whispered, tears prickling unexpectedly at his eyes.
Lando’s grip stayed just a moment longer before something flickered across his own face. Abruptly, he let go, shoving Oscar back slightly. Oscar stumbled, hitting his shoulders against the countertop. Lando froze, the weight of what he’d done hitting him immediately. His features softened, but his voice when he spoke remained stern, distant.
“Oscar…”
But Oscar was already moving. He shoved past Lando without looking him in the eye. His face was unreadable, his steps quick and cold. He grabbed his jacket, shoes, wallet, and keys, slipping them on in silence.
And then, without a word, he walked out, the door slamming behind him.
Lando stood frozen in the kitchen for what felt like hours before finally snapping out of it. His chest was heavy, his throat dry. Then panic surged through him. Grabbing his phone, he dialed Oscar’s number immediately, not thinking twice. It went straight to voicemail.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he muttered, pressing a hand against his forehead.
Across the city, Oscar sobbed into his hands. He hated himself for falling in love with Lando, hated himself for believing—just for a moment—that maybe Lando wanted him too. His chest ached, his body shaking with quiet sobs until exhaustion finally dragged him into a restless sleep on the floor of his bedroom.
Unable to sit still, Lando grabbed his car keys and drove recklessly across Monaco, parking illegally outside Oscar’s apartment building. He didn’t wait for the elevator and instead took the stairs two steps at a time, his pulse thundering in his ears. He reached Oscar’s door and raised his hand to knock—but froze. A long moment passed before he finally pulled out the spare key Oscar has given him many years ago.
Inside, the silence was deafening. Lando closed the door behind him and walked quietly toward Oscar’s bedroom. His heart nearly broke at the sight—Oscar was curled up on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around himself, shivering in his sleep. He looked impossibly small, fragile even.
Lando knelt down beside him, reaching out to gently shake his shoulder. Oscar let out a faint whine, wrapping his arms tighter around himself instead of stirring awake. Lando’s breath caught. The pain in his chest hit like a stone—because this was his fault. Every bit of it. He couldn’t bring himself to shake Oscar again, not when the man already looked so broken.
So instead, he carefully lay down on the floor beside him. He stayed there in the quiet, deliberately keeping a respectful inch of space between them, though every part of him longed to pull Oscar close. Eventually, his eyes closed there on the floor beside him, his heart aching more with each beat.
When Oscar woke a few hours later, he immediately noticed two things: the dull pain in his back from sleeping on the floor, and the sudden weight on his chest. Blinking in the dim light, he looked down—only to freeze. Lando was tucked against his side, face buried in his chest, arms locked tightly around his waist as if afraid to let go. His hair was messy, his breathing soft and even.
On his cheek was a faint tear stain that made Oscar’s heart clench.
Oscar didn’t know what to do. He just stared down at him for a long moment, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. Despite himself, his hand lifted, hovering uncertainly before finally resting against Lando’s back.
At the gentle touch, Lando stirred instantly.
His arms tightened reflexively around Oscar’s waist, his face pressing deeper against Oscar’s chest, inhaling shakily as though trying to memorize him. His voice broke suddenly, raw and pleading.
“Don’t push me away…”
Oscar let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He sat up slowly, and Lando’s body slipped into his lap, clinging still to him. The sight nearly made his heart stop. His voice cracked when he whispered, “You’re pushing me away.”
Lando’s eyes fluttered open. They were glassy, rimmed red, filled with tears that clung desperately to his lashes. He didn’t move from Oscar’s lap—he didn’t even try to hide his shame. Instead, he just stayed there, leaning against Oscar, ready to take whatever came next.
“I know,” Lando whispered, broken. His jaw tightened as though holding himself together was impossible. “I fucked up… I know I did.”
Oscar stared down at him, his own tears stinging now. He lifted one trembling hand and pressed it against his eyes, trying to hold himself together. His voice cracked under the weight of everything.
“It’s not fair,” he whispered.
The words filled the quiet like a confession neither of them could take back.
Lando watched as Oscar pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. It broke him, seeing Oscar like this—so defeated and hurt. Gently, he reached up and pulled Oscar’s hands away from his face, forcing Oscar to look at him.
“What’s not fair?” Lando asked softly.
Oscar’s voice cracked as he wiped furiously at his tears. “You… it’s not fair that you said yes to marrying some… some girl you don’t even know, just for money… when you could have had me.” His voice dropped to a fractured whisper. “It’s not fair that I loved you when you never loved me.”
Lando’s heart shattered into a million pieces at those words. They hit him like a physical blow, leaving him breathless. He grabbed Oscar’s hands desperately, his voice breaking.
“Stop… stop saying that.”
It was like a dam inside of Oscar finally gave way. His eyes glistened with heartbreak as he spoke through his pain. “And I was stupid enough to hope… that one day you would see me. That one day you would want me too.”
Lando’s thumbs brushed soothing circles over the back of Oscar’s hands, trying, failing, to calm him. His own eyes filled with tears—his chest aching with every word that left Oscar’s mouth. “Oscar, please…”
But Oscar didn’t seem to hear him. He was too consumed by his pain. A broken sob ripped from him. “And now you’re gonna marry… her. And maybe even fall in love with her, have children, a future. And I’m just gonna stay your stupid friend.”
Lando couldn’t take another word. He released Oscar’s hands only to reach up, cupping Oscar’s face firmly between both palms. His voice cracked with raw emotion. “Will you fucking stop talking for two seconds? I need you to listen to me right now.”
Oscar finally fell silent. Tears spilled freely as he looked into Lando’s desperate eyes.
Gently, Lando wiped them away with his thumbs, holding Oscar’s face. His forehead pressed against Oscar’s, his voice hoarse. “I never wanted this marriage. I never wanted her. I only ever wanted… you.”
Oscar stared at him blankly for a moment, his eyes unfocused. He didn’t reach out, didn’t touch him. After several endless seconds, his lips parted. “Then why did you say yes to marrying her?”
Lando’s hands tightened slightly against Oscar’s face. He took a deep, shaky breath. “Because my family expects it. Because it’s good for business. Because I thought I could handle it… I thought I could marry her, and still have you as my friend.”
Oscar squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as another painful breath escaped him. “If you marry her, I’ll leave. I can’t—” His voice broke. “I can’t watch you fall for someone else.”
Lando’s eyes went wide at the ultimatum, panic flooding through him instantly. He shook his head fiercely, his grip tightening on Oscar like if he let go, Oscar would vanish. “No… no, Oscar, you can’t leave. You absolutely fucking cannot leave.”
But Oscar pulled out of his hold. He stood, his face wiped clean of expression, the tears now gone but leaving him hollow. “This is your choice to make. Break off the marriage and I’ll stay. Marry her and I’ll leave.”
The words slammed into Lando harder than anything ever had. He shot to his feet and grabbed Oscar’s wrist before he could walk away. His voice cracked, desperate and fierce. “Don’t you dare fucking leave me.”
Oscar turned back, his stare cold despite the tears quietly running down his cheeks. His voice was icy. “You already lost me when you said yes to marrying a stranger.”
Lando released Oscar’s wrist immediately like it had burned him. The tears he’d been holding back finally spilled over, breaking down his composure completely. His voice was hoarse, begging. “Fuck… fuck, Oscar, please… I’m so sorry.”
Oscar’s lips trembled, but he forced himself to take a step back. Every part of him wanted to throw himself into Lando’s arms, but he knew what that would do—how much more it would hurt later. So instead, he stayed silent.
Lando’s heart cracked as Oscar stepped farther away. He reached out a trembling hand, grasping empty air between them. “Don’t go… please don’t fucking go.” His voice broke completely into sobs.
Oscar’s lips quivered, but he bit them down, refusing to crumble. He turned his back and walked toward the door. His voice was low as he whispered, “It’s your choice to make.” He slipped into the hallway, closing the door firmly behind him.
The soft click of the latch echoed loudly in Lando’s ears. It felt like every sound of the lock was a physical wound, ripping into him. He slid down the door, his back hitting the wood as he sobbed violently, hands clawing at his face as tears streamed uncontrollably down his cheeks.
On the other side of the door, Oscar slid to the ground as well. Hugging his knees tightly to his chest, he leaned his head back against the door, whispering brokenly to himself.
“I’m sorry, Lando. But I have to protect myself… I love you.”
Through his sobs and the thick wood, Lando heard him. The words cut through him like a knife, sinking bone-deep. He froze, his hands falling uselessly to his sides as he listened. Then, hoarse and weak, he whispered through the door, trembling.
“I love you too…”
Oscar closed his eyes. His tears had dried, but his heart still ached. He didn’t answer. He only stayed there, back against the same door as Lando, both of them broken on either side
Lando stayed slumped against Oscar’s door for what felt like hours, his throat raw from crying. He never moved, never pulled away—as if staying right there against that door might somehow keep Oscar from disappearing completely. Finally, in a broken whisper, he asked:
“Are you still there?”
For a long moment there was only silence. But then, faintly, Oscar’s breathing shifted on the other side, and Lando knew he was listening. His chest clenched as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. The words tumbled out of him in a rush, raw and desperate.
“I’m not going to marry her.”
He paused, his forehead pressing against the cool wood of the door. His next words shook, but he forced them out anyway. “I don’t care about the money or the reputation or any of that bullshit. I can’t marry her… I can’t pretend to love someone who isn’t you.” His voice broke into a whisper as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I choose you.”
Something fragile and hopeful twisted inside Oscar’s chest at those words. His throat tightened, his tears welling up again. Slowly, cautiously, he stood up and opened the door. His sore, red eyes met Lando’s immediately. “Do you mean that?” he asked, his voice shaky, full of doubt.
Lando lifted his head, eyes red and swollen but unwavering as he looked at him. He nodded slowly, his throat bobbing with the motion. “I mean it with every fucking beat of my heart. I don’t want her. I want you.”
Oscar didn’t speak. He simply threw his arms around Lando, and Lando melted into the embrace instantly, his face burying itself in the crook of Oscar’s neck. He breathed him in like he was oxygen, clinging tightly to his waist as if one wrong move would make him vanish. “I’m sorry…” he whispered, voice broken.
Oscar’s hands clenched in the fabric of Lando’s shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. His voice shook as the words cracked out of him. “I forgive you.”
At that, Lando fell apart completely. His whole body trembled with the sheer force of his sobs as everything he had been holding in finally tore free.
He clung to Oscar desperately, his words broken and breathless between sobs. “I love you… I only love you…” He pressed kisses against Oscar’s neck in frantic bursts, as if each one was a plea.
Oscar’s hand rose up, curling at the back of Lando’s head, steadying him. He gently pulled Lando’s face away from hiding in his neck, forcing him to look up. His other hand carefully brushed Lando’s tears away. His own voice was raw when he whispered, “I love you too, so much.”
Lando’s face was a mess of tears and snot, his chest still heaving, but when Oscar’s palm cupped his cheek, he leaned into the touch desperately, nuzzling into it like he never wanted to lose it. His voice cracked in a hoarse whisper. “Kiss me…”
Oscar did exactly that. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Lando’s, soft but trembling. The moment their lips met, he let out a tiny, broken sigh he had been holding in for so long.
Lando whimpered at the sound, his hands fisting tightly in Oscar’s shirt as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing past Oscar’s. He pulled him closer and closer, as if trying to climb inside his very skin, his desperation clear in every movement.
Oscar moaned faintly, his hand gripping the back of Lando’s head as he let himself be pulled under, let himself feel every bit of what he had been aching for all this time. He had never realized just how badly he needed this until now.
Lando moaned as well, pressing his body flush against Oscar’s, melding them together. He pulled back just enough to nip Oscar’s bottom lip with a teasing bite, then whispered huskily, “You needed this bad, didn’t you?”
Oscar’s cheeks flushed furiously as he gave Lando’s arm a playful punch. A small laugh—light and real—slipped from him. “Shut up.”
Lando laughed, his eyes still glassy with tears but his heart suddenly lighter than it had been in weeks. He pretended to wince at Oscar’s gentle punch before leaning back in close to steal another kiss. “I missed your stupid giggles,” he murmured against Oscar’s mouth, kissing him deeply again.
Oscar rolled his eyes but melted instantly into the kiss, his hand sliding up into Lando’s hair, curling through the soft strands. When they finally pulled apart, Oscar tugged gently on Lando’s bottom lip before smirking. “I never knew you were a good kisser.”
Lando’s eyes fluttered open, locking on Oscar’s playful gaze. Slowly, a smug little smirk appeared, dimples flashing despite his tear-streaked face. He pulled his bottom lip from Oscar’s mouth with a tiny pop. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me…”
Oscar smirked back, softer now, his hands sliding down to rest against Lando’s sides. “Do I now?”
Lando’s grin turned mischievous, his eyes sparkling as he tilted his head. “Maybe…” His voice dropped low, teasing and almost seductive as his thumbs brushed unconsciously at the waistband of Oscar’s sweats.
Oscar’s breath hitched just slightly before he moved, wrapping his arms fully around Lando’s middle. He pressed another kiss against Lando’s lips, slower this time, more tender—then shifted to suck softly at the skin just below Lando’s ear, leaving the faintest mark. “Show me then,” he murmured against his skin.
A shiver coursed through Lando at the contact, his lips parting on a soft moan. His hands slid lower, tightening on Oscar’s hips as he pulled him flush against him. His voice was little more than a whisper, husky and strained with want as he pressed his mouth close to Oscar’s lips again.
“Alright…” he breathed, before biting down gently on Oscar’s bottom lip