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Before tomorrow

Summary:

The final race of the season weighs heavier than usual. The championship, the strategy, the silence between them — everything becomes too complicated. And maybe what matters most isn’t tomorrow’s victory, but the conversation they’ve been putting off for far too long.

Notes:

While reading fanfiction, I realized that there’s a serious lack of simple, calm works about them, so it made me want to contribute in a small way.

Work Text:

The final race of the season always weighed on his shoulders one way or another. But it was especially heavy when you were in the top three of the championship and the upcoming weekend became your very last chance. Oscar wanted to show his best, to give absolutely everything to this fight. The chance was still there, and taking the championship this year felt like something truly magnificent.

He had placed huge hopes on Qatar. And at first, everything really did go perfectly. He led the entire weekend. But the race itself was mercilessly ruined by McLaren’s awful strategy. It felt as if on the first day at the track the strategists genuinely did not understand that a safety car is the perfect time for a pit stop without losing position. Everyone went in.

Everyone except Oscar.

They kept him out until the very end. Max, on much fresher tyres, passed him without much effort, and after the forced late pit stop Piastri lost the position for good, along with his chance to secure second place in the championship.

Still, everything that happened in Qatar was supposed to stay in Qatar. Right now, Abu Dhabi was the priority. He needed to give it everything there. Even if he did not become champion, at least he would show himself.

But things started going wrong already in the second practice, which for him was the first. The car was awful, letting him down completely, not allowing him to set a decent time even in practice. There was only one single hour left on track before qualifying. These days, he worked himself to exhaustion, squeezing out absolutely everything he had. And after qualifying, barely speaking to anyone, he returned to his hotel room and collapsed onto the bed, drained.

The championship made everything far too complicated.

His relationship with Lando was getting worse. Not because they were fighting or endlessly arguing over races or a possible victory. No. That was not it at all. Sometimes Piastri even thought that would have been easier. At least it would have made things clearer.

But the reality was different. They were simply, little by little, stopping talking. There was no point A, no scandal that caused the break. Just at some moment their close relationship seemed to slip off a cliff and fall, and fall, and fall. At first it showed in small things. Fewer conversations because of exhaustion and nerves. Then they started seeing each other less. And now, it had been almost a week since they had not spoken at all. About anything.

In Qatar it looked a bit better, but now everything felt irreparably bad. And Oscar, if he was being honest, would have been ready to give up the fight for the championship just to get rid of that thick, crushing silence.

It was destroying him from the inside. Lando was more to him than just a teammate. More than an acquaintance, even more than a friend. He loved him. Even if he had never said it out loud. Even through all the tension hanging between them. Tension that, in many ways, was not their fault at all, but Zak’s.

That was what made it worst of all. He loved him, but that warm feeling was now mixed with the mess that grew between them because of rivalry.

On media day, they acted completely natural. As if there was no pile of unspoken things between them. And it did not look fake. Lando smiled at him when the question came about what they liked about each other as teammates. He answered that there were too many things to list. Oscar felt warmth spread through his chest at those words.

They sat next to each other, laughed at some stupid meme during the break, and everything looked so real that Piastri almost believed things had fixed themselves.

But the moment they left the paddock, everything returned to its place.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Oscar grimaced, clearly not wanting any company right now, but still got up from the bed and went to the door. He opened it and froze for a moment.

Standing outside his room was the last person he expected to see.

Lando.

Oscar let out a heavy breath. His temples buzzed. The conversation with Zak from earlier that day was still replaying in his head, the one where he once again demanded that in the race Piastri defend his teammate’s position at any cost and not even think about fighting for his own.

“Listen…” Norris began, but Oscar cut him off with a loud exhale, not letting him finish.

“If you came to talk about the race and about me helping you, don’t even start. Zak has already washed my brain enough for me to not want to hear a single word about it.”

Lando shook his head.

“No. It’s not about that. Not about the race, and not about any help for me. Can I come in?”

Oscar did not know what to answer. On one hand, he desperately wanted to spend this evening alone, pull himself together so he could be focused by morning and get rid of this useless distraction and heaviness. But on the other hand, Norris had come to him on his own, to talk. And that was exactly what Piastri had needed so badly lately. So was it really worth denying himself this small chance, if things went the right way.

“Come in,” Oscar pressed his lips together and stepped aside to let his teammate enter, then closed the door behind him.

Lando looked unusually calm, though he was usually a real whirlwind. Not that it was bad. On the contrary, it brought some inexplicable sense of calm and a desire to linger in the moment.

“You know, some commentator joked that we should sleep together before tomorrow’s race. What do you think, was he right?” Norris joked, immediately looking away, realizing the timing was far from ideal. “Sorry, sorry. That wasn’t how I should have started this.”

Oscar rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the bed, watching Lando sit down next to him, looking at his teammate expectantly. But he said nothing, and the silence hung far too heavy. It started to become uncomfortable, even though Piastri would have sold his soul just to spend time with this person.

“Listen, if we’re just going to sit here in silence, I’d rather rest. You should too.”

“No,” Norris replied a bit sharply, too loud for the atmosphere between them. “I mean… I don’t want to leave right now, and I don’t want to rest before I talk to you. Because this whole situation, it shouldn’t be like this. It’s depressing.”

Lando paused, as if gathering his strength. He was the main storm and chaos of the paddock, the most active and ridiculously emotional person there. People said he could not keep his mouth shut to save his life. But when it came to serious conversations, ones where you had to bare your soul and talk about your feelings, Norris was ready to back out at any second.

Because he did not want to show that he could be weak, too.

That it would ruin his image.

“I always understood that the championship and the title fight… wouldn’t be easy,” Norris swallowed. “It’s always massive pressure, leaders are always hated, people always find reasons to tear them down. I was ready for that from day one in F1. I don’t really care about public opinion because I know they’re wrong. Most of the time it’s just baseless hate that doesn’t get to me. I knew there would be problems on the grid too, I was prepared for conflicts, and hell, if I’d argued with Max or someone else, I could have dealt with that. But, Osc… I really don’t like what’s happening between us right now.”

Oscar listened, carefully, not looking away. As if he were trying to see every emotion while Lando spoke. And he did see them, even if Norris tried not to show much. The sadness that slipped through anyway, the almost pitiful vulnerability in the nervous way he fidgeted with his fingers. He was not used to being this open, but right now it didn’t matter. That was not the important part.

“I’m ready to put up with a lot. A lost championship, stupid team strategies, dumb questions from the press. But not with what’s happening between us.”

To be honest, Norris wasn’t even sure there was an “us.” They had never crossed the line of friendship. Yes, sometimes they spent evenings wrapped around each other watching some movie, but it always stayed on the edge of close friendship. Now, Lando meant something very different with his words.

“It’s probably pointless to look for someone to blame, though I really want to dump it all on Zak and Andrea, whose stupid ideas only made the tension worse. But it wouldn’t be fair to blame only them. I’m guilty too. In my stubbornness. In not being the first to come to you when that pause appeared after Qatar… or even earlier, when that tension first started hanging between us. I was so focused on myself, on practice and races, that I didn’t notice how I started losing something more valuable than wins and a title. You.”

For a moment, Oscar’s breathing faltered. He could have sworn he had misheard those words. Because that was everything he had wanted. To talk, to fix this, something he never dared to start himself. And now Lando had come on his own, speaking with such vulnerability and honesty that Piastri no longer wanted any races or championships at all. Right here and now, he only wanted to hold his teammate and sit like that for a few good hours.

So he did. He said nothing, just moved closer and wrapped his arms around Lando. Tight, the way they used to, before all this madness and the downward slope in their relationship. Resting his head on Lando’s shoulder, he felt a little happier.

“And Osc… I never wanted you to help me at the cost of your own chance at the championship. You’re an insanely talented driver, you always put up great results, and I’d be a complete bastard if I wanted to take that chance away from you. Everything they say and ask of you, I’ve always been against. But both Zak and Andrea refused to listen to me. I’m sorry. Maybe if I’d pushed harder to stop it, things would’ve been easier. Maybe it wouldn’t have come to what it is now.”

Lando finally finished speaking, wrapped his arms around Oscar’s shoulders and rested his temple against the crown of his head. They sat like that, barely moving. A few minutes of silence that both of them seemed to need, while Piastri prepared to answer and Norris reconsidered everything he had just said.

Neither of them knew how long the silence lasted. Oscar, whom fans were used to seeing as one of the coldest, most detached people in the paddock, was now trying to get a handle on the emotions churning inside. Yes, the Lando sitting next to him knew what Piastri was like away from the cameras, near those he trusted. But even so, there was simply too much, and Oscar needed time.

To calm down.

“Thank you for… coming. For talking about all this,” Oscar lifted his head slightly from Lando’s shoulder but stayed in his arms. “It really worried me, because this is all so stupid, isn’t it? We didn’t argue, there were no conflicts or reasons for things to suddenly become different. I’m not a saint either. I could’ve started this conversation myself as soon as it all began… back in the summer, right? But I didn’t. So…” Piastri bit his lower lip, steadying his thoughts. “The blame is obviously on both of us. But the important thing is that we talked, right? Now there’s a chance things will be okay, even with the season ending?”

Oscar asked not because he doubted that things could be fixed, but because he did not want to be the only one making decisions. He needed to hear Lando’s thoughts, to understand where he stood, even if the answer seemed obvious.

Conversations were everything. And they had neglected them for far too long.

“Of course, Osc,” Norris murmured, lightly brushing a hand over Oscar’s shoulder. “Believe me, nothing will ever be more important to me than what we have. Yes, the final race of the season matters. The title fight matters. But us, our relationship, is one level above all of that. Because human feelings and connections are far more fragile than anything I can control, even a little.”

Oscar smiled. Those words were exactly what he needed. To finally let calm settle in his chest and clear his head of intrusive thoughts and that awful conversation with Zak, where he was treated like nothing. It didn’t matter now. He mattered to Lando, and that was all he needed.

Now it became painfully obvious to both of them just how much they meant to each other. A whole universe. And no one had the right to take that away.

“It matters to me. Not losing you and all that,” Oscar said quietly. “All this time, while the tension was between us, I just missed… you being there.”

Lando smiled softly and turned to face him, sitting close. His hand briefly cupped Oscar’s cheek. He took his time, gently stroking his skin with his thumb, the same soft, tender smile on his lips. It was meant only for Oscar.

“Me too. Honestly. You’re the most important person in my life. I’d never forgive myself if I lost you.”

Lando didn’t give him a chance to reply. With one careful movement, he covered Oscar’s lips with his own. Any words felt unnecessary now, actions the only true confirmation of everything that had been said. That was why Norris acted the way he did, pulling Oscar into a slow, impossibly tender kiss.

And Piastri returned it. He didn’t pull away or protest at the older man’s actions. Instead, he placed a hand on Lando’s neck, then carefully slid it into his hair, weaving his fingers through it.

That kiss said more than any words ever could.

They had never talked about their relationship before. But today, everything changed.

And in the end, it meant far more than tomorrow’s victory.