Chapter Text
“Aww… that’s so sweet Oscar!” Lando coos over the cheers of their friends.
Max hoots once he sees the gift, and George goes into a deep dive on car models and the benefits of manual activities for maintenance of brain function throughout adulthood. Alex glares at George with a ‘can you believe this guy?’ look. Neither Charles nor Carlos is enjoying the cognitive lesson, huddled close together to whisper amongst themselves.
Oscar, his Secret Santa, is shyly ducking his head from the sofa across the coffee table, a slight flush blooming on his cheeks.
Lando isn’t particularly familiar with Oscar. They have a common friend group, hence sharing Friendmas together, but while Lando is more of the Alex, George and Carlos clique, Oscar tends to hang out with Charles and Max. Not that Lando doesn’t spend time with them either, they are a pretty tight-knit group, but he hasn’t had the opportunity to get close to Oscar yet.
Charles had shown up at padel one morning a few months ago with a stray Oscar following behind him like a lost duckling, declaring him his adopted son— and that was it.
Oscar is pretty reserved, preferring to listen over talking, never really interacting much. He’s a constant presence in their friend gatherings, sitting at the edge of the table when they went dining and burying himself under a pile of blankets on a lone sofa chair during movie nights. Lando doesn’t really know anything about him, except that he brings a steady vibe to their chaotic group and matches Max’s maxplaining hand gesture choreographies.
Turns out Oscar is also a pretty attentive listener.
In his hands sits a McLaren 720s model building kit. Which, if you know Lando, you know he is a huge McLaren F1 Team fan. And a car fan. He loves his cars. He’d dreamt of buying a garage and collecting all his favourites ever since Daniel had shown him his collection back in Monaco.
“I’m glad you like it,” Oscar says, smooth and polite.
“Yeah, thanks. Maybe I should start a car model collection if I can’t have the real things,” he laughs before announcing his turn in the gift exchange. “Charles, stop plotting behind my back and get your arse here, or I’m keeping the gift!”
The rest of the gift exchanges goes on nicely, Charles unwrapping his Christmas themed socks and groaning loudly, before screaming at George to get on with tearing the wrapping paper off his gift instead of tugging at the tape.
Dinner is festive, big candles standing out on the table amongst the spread of their collective potluck. They all happily share the food, talking about nothing and everything all at once. Wine is flowing freely.
Charles narrates how his boss had given him a promotion, because, and he quotes: “chances of clients visiting anew have increased by 20% since you’ve started wearing glasses whilst handling the reception, indicating ensuring you can afford proper eye wear is a necessity for the growth of this company.”
They all have a laugh at that, nagging Charles about being put on client service because his face is too pretty to waste on data analysis.
Everyone is having a great time.
Not Lando, however. He wants to, but he feels as if something was missing. He misses a laugh booming over the room as his friends share anecdotes. He misses someone grabbing Max’s awful candy cane shaped cookies and holding them under his nose as an ugly moustache. He misses the stupid shirts with stupid Christmas puns on them. He misses Daniel.
It’s Lando’s first Friendmas celebration without him. They’d been dating for three years, until this summer, when Lando had withdrawn back into his little cave in London. And ignored the reaching out attempts, because the media pressure was getting too much, and he needed some time to breathe.
He thought he’d get over it in a week’s time. Well— a few months later, and he still can’t.
He wasn’t prepared for the cameras and the journalists and the fans following his every move when he started dating an F1 driver. He thought he had it handled, and Daniel had promised to be by his side to alleviate the charge. But no matter how hard they tried, there was just nothing to do against all the attention. Being a man dating a man was already a source of criticism in this world, but then they’d found his Twitch channel and started sharing unflattering clips of him and quotes out of context, and it became unbearable.
Daniel had reached out the first few days, but quickly went quiet when answers didn’t come. With the whole RedBull junior team fiasco Daniel already had enough on his plate, having been somewhat distant ever since Helmut had told him this season would be his last chance to prove he was worthy of the RedBull seat.
It seemed it wasn't working for either of them. Lando said first he wanted to take a break, stopped responding for a month, then Daniel officially broke off with him over text.
Now though, looking at his friends, an emptiness fills his heart. Carlos is feeding Charles a bite of paella from his plate. Charles' hand is under the table, angled towards Carlos' thigh. Alex has Max and George hanging onto his words, telling a story about the bonded kittens he'd had to vaccinate together because they refused to be separated. Oscar besides him is watching quietly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Lando feels lonely. There's no one to wrap an arm on the back of his chair or hold pinkies with him. No one to whisper dumb things and laugh with. And he’s tried dating new guys, with loud voices and tanned skins, but it didn’t feel right.
Would Daniel be willing to rekindle, now that he isn't an F1 driver anymore?
They hadn't broken up over any bad blood, and Lando feels guilty for being the one who drew away first, despite knowing Daniel was having a tough time. But without the media… maybe they could make it work?
Maybe Lando should contact Daniel again. He doesn’t want to do it by text, because it is, one, kind of disrespectful considering the situation, and two, that would mean Daniel’s contact sitting at the top of his messages for a few days. Which Lando cannot handle, knowing that he’d get nervous and check if Daniel had read his message multiple times a day.
He thinks about calling him, but again, this feels way too impersonal for the kind of conversation he wants to have. He can't just show up to his place, because it's Christmastime and Daniel should be back in Australia to celebrate with his family around this time of the year.
Lando's family is in Britain, so he doesn't have this issue. Nor gifts to ship across the world for his fam– a gift!
Lando feels as if a lightbulb had been switched on in his brain. What he needs to do is find the perfect Christmas gift to apologize to Daniel. It's genius, really. He's feeling determined, starting to brainstorm considerate gifts ideas.
“Hey mate, you ok?” Oscar asks from his side, with a soft crease between his brows.
“Yeah, why?”
Oscar looks thoughtful, ducking his head a little and dainty fingers fiddling with his fork. “Just wanted to check, you're quieter than usual.”
Lando appreciates the gesture, but with his newfound desire to rekindle the flame with Daniel he feels more settled than a few minutes ago. He's got a plan now, goodbye sulking in silence!
“All good, thanks,” he answers absentmindedly, back in his own head to find the perfect gift idea.
The issue is, Lando Norris is a terrible gift giver.
He likes paying for things for his loved ones, swiping his card when they go to pay for their drinks, and buying tons of snacks for them. Buying the silliest gifts that get a laugh out of everyone at birthdays. But sentimental gifts? Lando is terrible at them, it’s not his style at all.
He wishes he could ask his friends for help, since they'd also known Daniel pretty well, but he already knows he'd be teased relentlessly. Or judged. The consensus amongst his friends seemed to be that his and Daniel’s breakup had been a good thing for both their mental state. His family also thought the same thing, although they'd never met Daniel in person since he was always either travelling the world or spending time back at home with his people.
That's when the solution to his problem hits him. Literally.
Oscar folds over in a giggle at Alex's anecdote, knocking Lando's forearm with his elbow. He quickly apologizes, the corners of his eyes all crinkled and his tone warm and soft.
Lando would consider Oscar a friend, sharing the same group and all. A friend who hadn't been part of their group when Daniel was still around. And a friend who also happens to be attentive and a pretty good gift giver– re: the McLaren 720s car model.
“Hey Oscar?” He inquires, nudging his arm to get his attention.
Oscar turns over and tilts his head like a confused puppy. “What’s up?”
Lando ducks his head, indicating Oscar to do the same, and lowers his voice, so they aren’t overheard. “Could you help me find a gift idea? I kinda need some inspiration, and it’s not coming to me.”
A pensive look crosses Oscar’s face, before he smiles warmly and accepts to give him help. Lando is a genius.
“Sure. Do you want to meet up tomorrow?” he says, a little knowing smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, crooked on the left side. “I feel like you don’t want everyone in on this.”
Lando feels the tip of his ears redden at the astute observation, a wave of embarrassment rolling over him at having been found out so easily. “Yeah, ha.”
“I can do nine am at Mona’s café, if that works for you?”
And Lando wasn’t exactly expecting one-on-one time with Oscar tomorrow, but having a night to sleep on it will hopefully give him some time to brainstorm ideas and prepare himself. Also, he does want to get to know Oscar better, since he has become such an integral part of their little friend group, and he still doesn’t know him that well.
“Mona’s café at nine, that works for me!” He agrees, before straightening up and blushing at all his friends staring at him, blinking owlishly. Not as subtle as he thought then. Oops.
“Just discussing some car things,” he explains, flailing his hands around. Ok, maybe he hasn’t ever initiated an interaction with Oscar before. So what? First time for everything. “Max, how was your last sim race?”
With that, Max’s eyes sparkle, and he launches into a lengthy recounting of how he’d been leading the race when a car under blue flag refused to concede the position and nearly took him out.
-•-
When Lando enters the café, he isn’t sure what to expect from Oscar. He’s a typical block colour t-shirt guy who wears shorts all year long and has probably never heard of a comb.
But as he opens the heavy door and scrubs the snow-covered soles of his boots onto the rug, sweeping his eyes over the place, he’s surprised.
Shimmery ornaments in the shape of snowflakes and icicles drip from the ceiling, aggregating above each table in a sort of wintery chandelier. Christmas drawings made by kids hang from the walls, and little snowmen stickers are glued to the windows. On the tables, big hearty candles sit with customized snow themed menus. And in a cosy corner booth sits Oscar.
Oscar in a soft navy quarter zip, who shockingly brushed his hair in the cutest of swoops across his forehead. His wool coat is draped over the back of his chair. It feels like he was made for this cosy atmosphere. Oscar looks up, a warm smile spreading on his face and shyly waving at him.
Lando startles from his ogling session, clumsily making his way over as Oscar stands up to pull a chair for him.
“Morning,” Oscar says, voice a little gravelly from sleep and eyes only half-open as he sits back down. He looks like a groggy kitten just waking up from a deep nap.
“Good morning! Sleep well?” Lando asks, shimmying off his coat and sitting down.
Oscar hums non-committally, gesturing at the menus on the table. “I haven’t ordered anything yet.”
Not a morning person, then. Lando kinda wants to grab a blanket and wrap Oscar in it like a burrito. Maybe even a purrito, like he sees all the cat owners do on TikTok. Oscar would look adorable, all sleepy and swallowed in piles of blankets.
Lando takes a look at the menu to distract himself from these unconventional thoughts, quickly spotting the peppermint mocha of his dreams.
“Good morning! What can I get for you?” A waitress asks, notebook and pen ready.
“I’ll take the peppermint mocha, with whipped cream, please!”
“And for your friend?”
“I’ll grab a s’mores hot cocoa. Thanks,” Oscar answers, quietly.
Once the waitress is behind the counter, Lando turns back to Oscar. “No caffeine? I thought you’d need it to wake up…”
Oscar yawns, covering his mouth with a dainty hand. “Nah, I'm not a coffee person.”
“And who says I’m not awake?” He continues, smiling at himself. “It’s the energy saving mode. I’m keeping my battery for you.”
“I see,” he nods, because that doesn’t make much sense, but it’s also very sweet in a way. He wishes Daniel could dedicate his energy to him at the time. Although now that he’s retired, Lando is hopeful this can be changed. Speaking of Daniel— “I asked for your help to find a gift idea,” he says, steering the conversation in the right direction.
“Yup,” Oscar says, not looking like he’s half in a dream anymore. “Can I know who? It’ll be better if I know the kind of person you want to gift to.”
Lando explains that he’s looking for a gift that conveys a message. That it’s someone who used to be really important to him, but that they’ve grown distant over the last few months, and he feels guilty about it. He wants something to be forgiven and establish contact anew.
The waitress drops their drinks during his little speech.
Oscar looks engaged in the story, asking a few questions and nodding his head throughout to show he’s paying attention. His eyes don’t stray from Lando’s, even when the waitress passed by. Lando’s never had someone listen so intently to his words. He likes it.
“I think you need something simple,” Oscar finally says, after having deliberated for a while in his head.
“You think?”
“Yeah. You need something that says ‘I still care and think about you’ but nothing too overbearing because you’ll risk scaring them off.”
Lando rolls it over in his mind and yes, that makes sense. It’s been so long since Daniel and him have talked, he doesn’t want to overwhelm him. Considering Lando hadn’t come up with anything after a night of overthinking, asking Oscar for help was a great idea.
“I like that. Small, but still caring,” he confirms, taking a sip of his mocha and wiping a spot of whipped cream off the tip of his nose.
Oscar’s cheeks turn pink, probably from the heat of his cocoa.
“You get it,” Oscar mumbles, fiddling with his sleeves. “Maybe even something practical, to encourage a sense of starting a routine anew. Something that makes them think of you making breakfast for them in the morning or preparing tea when they work.”
“So like a charger for your limited morning social battery?” He jokes, teasing Oscar’s earlier sleepy state.
“Exactly that!” Oscar giggles.
Lando ponders those words, trying to think of what practical thing he could give Daniel. He likes the message Oscar has built behind the idea, but he still needs the main component of his Christmas offering. He looks around the café for a bit, searching for inspiration.
Candles? No, not useful enough. And it feels like an idea without any substantial thought behind it. Lando’s viewers send him candles in P.O. boxes, and Lando wants to be more than a viewer to Daniel.
He continues his search, eyes sweeping the tables around and all the couples discussing quietly. After a few minutes he gives up, deciding he’ll think about it back at his place. But then his eyes fall on Oscar, hands cradling his mug and contently taking sips of his hot cocoa. He’s already looking at Lando, a soft smile hiding behind the rim of his mug.
“A velvetiser!” Lando blurts out, Oscar’s eyes widening at the noise.
Lando is going to give Daniel a velvetiser. It’s small, but practical. And every time Daniel will make himself a hot chocolate, it’ll be warm and smooth, and he’ll associate those thoughts to Lando’s care. It’s perfect.
“That’s a good idea. My girlfriend at the time gave me one, it makes the best hot cocoa,” Oscar says softly, encouraging him.
“You have a girlfriend?” Lando couldn’t hold himself back from asking. He’d never heard of a girlfriend, and an unpleasant sensation curdles in his stomach. How could he call Oscar his friend if he didn’t even know that he was taken?
Oscar quickly denies it, shaking his head strongly. “No, I used to. We kinda just fell out of love. Turns out I liked having her as a friend, but was more interested romantically in boys, and she wanted to focus more on her career at that stage of her life.”
Lando feels weirdly soothed by that information, his tightly drawn shoulders relaxing. “I’m sorry. At least it ended on good terms,” he comments, not really knowing how to respond.
“It’s fine. As you said, no bad blood.”
They spent the rest of the morning discussing pleasantly, hidden in their little corner booth. They talked about their jobs and the expectations that come with them, and a bit of everything as well. Oscar is a mechanical engineering student, but works at a garage on the side. Once they decided to leave, a few hours had passed in quiet companionship.
Lando swipes up the receipt before Oscar can even look at it and pays for their drinks, the Aussie’s cheeks reddening and a polite thanks slipping from his lips.
“Could I have your number?” Oscar asks, making it Lando’s turn to blush profusely. “Just so I can check how your gift giving goes,” he adds, realizing how what he said might’ve sounded.
Lando agrees easily, already very open to the idea of having an easy way to contact Oscar. He’d love going for a drink together another time. This was a nice morning, and he liked how comfortable Oscar made him feel, sharing parts of his life he usually kept to himself. Streaming was nice, but the viewers were never really that thoughtful about his words.
When they separated to each go back to their place, Oscar leaving with an enthusiastic wave, Lando felt a little pang in his chest. Having known Oscar was so nice, he would’ve approached him earlier. He promises himself to make good use of that number.
On the walk back to his apartment, he realizes he isn’t happy with the velvetiser idea anymore. As simple and useful and quietly caring as it is, Lando doesn’t feel it’s right to copy the gift Oscar had received from his then girlfriend. He might’ve come up with the idea before Oscar told him, but it still feels wrong.
Lando isn’t in a relationship with Daniel, not anymore. So how would it be fine to give him something that people receive when they are in a relationship?
The more Lando thinks about it, the less it makes sense. He must’ve ended up with this gift idea in his head because he was in a café and wafts of chocolate were swirling in the air. He’s actually pretty sure Daniel isn’t a big hot cocoa guy now that he thinks about it. He much more enjoyed coffee, dark and energizing to get him started in the morning.
His whole day is spent ruminating those thoughts, and trying to come up with a new gift idea, but to no avail. Daniel is a retired F1 driver, for god’s sake. He has everything he could ever need at the snap of a finger. Finding something simple and caring is not easy when he remembers the automatic hand dryer Daniel had in his bathroom.
Lando goes to bed frustrated, the quiet happiness of this morning washed away by the incapability of finding the right rekindling gift for Daniel. In the morning, after a cup of hot chocolate, he texts Oscar to organize another meet up, determined to gain a new gift concept now that he’s convinced simple and caring isn’t the right message.
(New Message) - 15/12/24
Good mrning sleepy head!
I thought bck on the vevletizer idea but I’m not convnced anymore
Do u think we could meet again t find somethnig else?
8:43
Oscar P.
Morning Lando
Sure, I was planning to go on a walk this Wednesday
To the Pearl Park around 7 pm
You’re free to join me
11:24
I’ll be there 🤠
11:26
A smile spread on Lando’s face, reassured that they could come up with another gift idea in time for Christmas. And he loved Pearl Park! It always looked gorgeous this time of the year, with the aquatic life ice sculptures wrapped in fairy lights.
With a pep to his steps, Lando pulled on his coat and grabbed a tote bag to do his groceries.
-•-
“Hi Lando!”
Oscar comes bouncing, wrapped in a coat and a scarf, and a hat, and under the hood of said coat, and his face is barely visible under all the layers and it’s absolutely adorable. The red tip of his nose is peeking out from above the fabric, and his warm brown eyes are barely open under snow dusted eyelashes.
Now that he is closer, Lando can also see the edge of a neck warmer under that big knitted scarf.
“Hello, you little Inuit,” he laughs. Oscar looks ready to brave the coldest of storms and most freezing of winds. A true winter warrior.
Oscar squawks at that, indignation shining through. “I’ll have you know it’s minus five out here, mister Norris. You’re the one not wearing enough,” he huffs, stuffing his gloved hands in his pockets.
Lando feels perfectly comfortable in his coat and hat. It isn’t even breezy this evening.
“If you say so,” he teases, tugging at Oscar’s scarf.
“Come on then, let’s get going,” Oscar says, a hand on the small of his back to lead him towards the path he’d chosen to walk.
It was the reef path, with corals in all kinds of shapes and seahorses and plenty of exotic fish depictions.
“The reef path?” Lando comments, glancing at Oscar now walking by his side, his hand back in his pocket.
“Yeah. It makes me think of the Great Barrier Reef back at home,” Oscar says, and Lando can’t be sure that he’s smiling but through the bunching of his cheeks and crinkling of his eyes he’d like to think he’s correct.
Lando hums his understanding. “I usually walk the shark path. The sculptures are so big and impressive.”
“Sure, it’s nice. But it’s just the same shark model repeated over and over again,” Oscar argues, apparently deeply passionate about marine life. “The reef path is about diversity. You won’t see a single coral model reused all throughout. Did you know the Great Barrier Reef has over 400 types of coral?”
No, Lando did not know that. He’s not exactly a fan of oceans, having a heavy dislike for seafood.
“No, I did not. What about fish types then, professor Piastri?” He giggles, taking on his most serious tone.
Oscar folds over in laughter.
“I don't know mate, I'm just Australian,” he hiccups. “It's all about the reef down there.”
Oscar’s under-eyes were now dusted a pretty pink, and the swoop of hair he'd tucked under his hat was falling over his forehead. Snow was spiraling around them through the dark sky and the glow of blue and pink tinted fairy lights shone on the ground. There was no one to be seen on the reef path, as if they were in their own little magical world.
“That’s fair, Daniel was also a reef connoisseur,” Lando muses.
“Is Daniel the ex?” Oscar inquires, sobering up from his giggle fit. He’s looking at Lando piercingly, as if he was trying to look through him.
“Yeah. He’s an Aussie as well,” Lando adds.
Oscar ah and hms at his precision and goes quiet. They walk for a bit, two trails of footprints side by side on the snow.
“What was wrong with the velvetiser, then?” Oscar finally asks.
“It doesn’t feel right,” Lando starts, moving his hands around to explain. “Daniel is more of a coffee fan anyway, but it feels like it lacks something that would resonate with him.”
“So you think it’s too impersonal,” Oscar contemplates. “A velvetiser is nice, but it could be a bit for anyone.”
Lando nods, because yeah, that was part of his train of thought.
“What if you made him an Australian treats basket?” Oscar offers up, turning to look at him directly.
“An Australian treat basket?”
“Yeah! Still pretty simple and shows that you care, but with a touch of home that he'll be able to relate with,” Oscar explains, shrugging proudly.
And it's a sound plan. Lando likes it. Daniel did tend to miss Australia, especially during the long seasons of racing, because he didn’t have time to go home during the breaks. However, Lando is not particularly familiar with Australian snacks.
“I like it, but I don’t know any Australian treats. Can you give me some inspiration?” He tells Oscar honestly.
Oscar’s nose twitches in this cute bunnyesque way, before he starts rambling about all his favourite treats.
Lando learns that Bundaberg is a classic Australian family-owned soda company, and that getting it anywhere other than the motherland is an unbelievable find. The passion fruit flavour is supposedly the best, although with how Oscar described it Lando is pretty convinced they’re all amazing. He also discovers the greatness of double-coated Tim Tams, a crunchy, creamy core of biscuit wrapped in layers of melty milk chocolate for the ultimate sweet treat.
The superior hot cocoa comes from Milo, Oscar insists, due to its insane solubility in milk and deep sweetness that coats your whole mouth. He also tells Lando about a few iconic candies, and salty snacks, and before he knows it they’ve walked the whole reef path.
Oscar is still passionately describing all the greatest culinary hits Australia has put out, even though they’re now standing still. Lando likes hearing Oscar talk, it’s so different to how he is usually, all quiet and attentive, and he doesn’t want him to stop. He could listen to Oscar talk for hours on end when he’s so invested in the subject, observing all his little oscarisms.
Like how his hands are constantly moving around, and his head tilts to the side depending on his intonation, or how expressive his eyebrows are. Lando feels like he’s discovering a whole new person that doesn’t fit at all the Oscar Piastri mold he’d created in his head.
“— polarizing overseas, but Vegemite is also an icon down under. Have you ever had Vegemite?” Oscar asks, bringing Lando out of his reverie.
And oh, Oscar is looking at him so intensely.
“Yep, I’ve tried it. Daniel insisted,” Lando answers, and because he can’t bring himself to lie when Oscar seems so earnest… “kinda hated it.”
Oscar gasps, hand flying to his chest.
“You wound me,” he laughs, doing the adorable foldy thing again.
Lando feels a warm flush spread across his cheeks. He’s smiling softly, just happy to see Oscar be so carefree.
“Oh, you look a bit red,” Oscar says once he straightens back up. “I told you. You were underdressed for the weather,” he voices all serious, unwrapping his own scarf and carefully bundling Lando in it.
Lando feels himself blush even more deeply at the gesture, imagining he must be as red as Rudolph’s nose at this point.
“There, now we can be Inuits together,” Oscar giggles, tugging at his neck warmer.
Lando laughs, a fire lighting in his belly and making him feel warm all over. Maybe it’s dark out and there is snow falling down the sky, but Lando doesn’t feel the cold. He’s outside giggling like an idiot with Oscar in the middle of nowhere, and he wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.
“Thanks, Osc,” he says, sincere.
He still can’t see half of Oscar’s face under his hat and neck warmer, but he’s pretty sure it was the right thing to say with how Oscar’s eyes squint like a cat slow-blinking in contentment. He just wishes he could admire his smile too.
“For the scarf,” he continues, because he enjoys seeing Oscar so openly happy under praises. “But also for the list of Australian snacks. I’m sure there are some in there that Danny will love.”
Oscar sighs, shoulders dropping down, eyes going downcast and fussing at the snow with his boot.
“Yeah, always happy to help,” he sing-songs tightly, sounding less carefree than before.
Lando feels an instinctual need to remedy that. He doesn’t know what happened, but this distant, quiet, meek Oscar Piastri coming back is not what he wants. Oscar had been so vibrant just then, and now Lando feels colder than he has all evening, as if Oscar had been shining bright and the warmth had ebbed.
He grabs Oscar’s limp hands from his sides, rubbing soft circles on the back of his gloves. “Hey, I mean it. Thank you for your help, but also just for being there. I’ve had a great time tonight,” he said, smiling big to convey his message.
He really was thankful for Oscar inviting him tonight, he hadn’t smiled like that in weeks. From him looking like a hot potato under all his layers to the Great Barrier Reef lesson, the Australian snacks rambling and the scarf sharing.
“I had a great time too,” Oscar starts after a while, “but I reckon it’s time to go home. It’s getting cold,” he says softly.
Something in Lando breaks a little at that. He would’ve liked to keep walking around together. But he’s also not too familiar with Oscar, and now that he’s gotten him to open up a little he’s afraid of being too overwhelming and scaring him away. Despite the urge to disagree, Lando respects Oscar’s wishes.
“You’re right, and it’s getting late,” Lando sadly confirms. “Can I see you soon? Maybe we could get a bite or something this weekend,” he adds, because he can’t help himself. He really wants to get to know everything about Oscar.
Oscar’s cheeks get painted a pretty pink from the cold. He must be sensitive to temperatures, with how he’d also gotten so pink whilst sipping his hot chocolate at the café.
“That would be lovely,” Oscar replies — “You’ll text me the details?”
“Yes mate! It’ll be the best dinner of your life,” Lando confirms, very enthusiastic at the prospect of even more one-on-one time with Oscar.
“I’ll hold you to it. Bye Lando!” Oscar says, waving gently as he walks away.
“Bye Oscar!” Lando yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to be heard over the distance.
Oscar gives him a thumbs-up.
Lando breathes deeply, conflicted about the night. On one hand, he had a great time and will get another chance to see Oscar this weekend. He also has a great gift idea for Daniel. On the other hand, Oscar seemed weirdly withdrawn towards the end, and Lando couldn’t help but feel sad about it. He hopes Oscar had as good a time as he did.
He walks back to his apartment, brainstorming which of the snack ideas Oscar gave him sounded the most likely to please Daniel, and resolved to go do his errands in the next days.
-•-
As he stands at his table after his Australian snacks run, Lando feels this annoying coil of self-doubt wrapping around him. Again, it just doesn’t feel right. The Australian care package Oscar suggested was a brilliant idea, but for some forsaken reason Lando can’t bring himself to assemble it and feel happy about it. And he knows it’s the thought that counts more than the gift, but god.
He got the passion fruit Bundaberg, as well as the double-coated Tim Tams. He even grabbed some Vegemite. He’s got gummies, chips, a ton of chocolate, and somehow, despite getting all the best Australian treats Oscar had listed, Lando has this unsettling feeling that this isn’t right.
Daniel prefers wine to non-alcoholized beverages. He’s not a big fan of passion fruit either, so why the hell did Lando even grab the Bundaberg?
Also, Daniel doesn’t race anymore. Nothing is stopping him from going to Australia whenever he feels like it, and he even has been down under for the last two months if what the fans on Instagram are saying is to be believed. An Australian care package is useless if he’s already in Australia.
Lando feels frustrated with himself, stashing away everything he’s bought at the bottom of a cupboard, so he doesn’t have to look at it anymore.
He’s not in the mood for gift giving this afternoon.
He grabs his phone and opens his message thread with Oscar, re-reading back the advice Oscar had been giving him this morning on which versions of the snacks he should get.
Lando needs a change of scenery.
Oscar 🐨 - 19/12/24
OSCAR!!!
2:34
Oscar 🐨
Hi Lando
2:36
Don’t snoud too excited 😒
2:36
Oscar 🐨
Sorry
Hiiiii 😀
2:36
Ew digusting emoji
I take it back
So about eating out
I’ve got JSUT the place :3
2:37
Oscar 🐨
Nice! Where were you thinking?
2:38
David’s
Italian place w the best raviolis
2:40
Oscar 🐨
I like it
What time?
2:40
Saturday at 6!
Be there or be sqare 😈
2:42
Oscar 🐨
Perfect. See you soon 💪
2:43
Lando smiles and gazes at the screen for a few seconds before turning his phone off.
-•-
Lando arrives first at David’s. He was so excited that he left way too early, bored of running circles around his living room. He seats himself at the alcove table he’d reserved earlier that day and asks the waiter for a glass of water.
When Oscar comes in, coat shrugged off, Lando’s breath gets stolen from him.
He’s not in his typical t-shirts or hoodies. His biceps look lethal straining against the sleeves of his button-up shirt, and the bulge of his thighs in tight trousers should be illegal. Lando isn’t one to deny it when he finds someone attractive, and goddamn had he known Oscar had all that he would’ve stolen all his baggy shirts.
Lando’s surprised at his own reaction. But if he can appreciate Charles’ beauty, then he can absolutely say that under Oscar’s cute face is the body of a marble sculpture. Oscar shouldn’t hide himself— people would throw themselves at him if he’d flash even a hint of broad shoulders.
“Hello, sorry for being late,” he says, sliding in the booth.
Lando swallows dryly. “It’s fine, I haven’t been here long anyway.”
“Still,” Oscar insists, grabbing a menu. “Did you have a nice day?”
“Yes, it’s been fine. Slept well, bit of cooking and some streaming in the afternoon.”
Lando drags his eyes away from Oscar’s biceps and opens his own menu. Focus. He’s not here for eye candy, he’s here for a friendly chat.
“Was chat nice?” Oscar asks, arching an eyebrow.
Chat was mostly nice. Although they kept teasing him that he was going on a date tonight, despite Lando’s insistence that it was just a friendly dinner. Is a man spending half an hour messing with his curls until they sit right a crime? David’s is a fancy restaurant, he has to look sharp. Seeing Oscar now, he’s glad he’s not the only one who thought like that.
“Kinda yeah. They can be a bunch of little shits though,” he answered instead, not wanting to make the ambiance awkward by bringing up that it did kind of look like a date from the outside.
Their waiter comes by and both order their plate of choice, Lando going for the raviolis and Oscar the chicken parm. Lando comments a cheeky “typical Aussie,” to which both giggle before thanking the waiter.
“Not typical Aussie,” Oscar disagrees. “Did you know I’m three sixteenth Italian?” He asks, wiggling his fingers.
Lando laughs a bit at that, finding the specificity of the statement pretty funny. “No, I didn’t know.”
“Mhm, got some Tuscan roots. I’ve never visited, but I’d love to go one day,” Oscar notes, his mouth shifting in a warm smile.
“I’m sure you’d have a great time,” Lando confirms. “What would you do there?”
Oscar’s eyes brighten, shining with his interest in the subject. Lando’s glad, he feels like he’s going to get treated with one of Oscar’s rare rambles, so he melts into the banquette and lets Oscar take him on a trip.
“Well, first I want to visit the specific village where my ancestors come from, Licciana Nardi. Might even get to meet some family there,” Oscar starts, hands waving around widely. “Then I really want to just walk around and take pictures, Tuscany is known for its medieval cities and rolling green hills. Have a bite as well, plenty of good hearty meals from what I heard. Also, Monza isn’t too far away! It’s one of my favourite tracks, so I’d love to go see a race,” he explains excitedly, nodding here and there as if checking with himself as he speaks.
Lando smiles at that. It does sound really nice. And he loves Monza too!
“Didn’t know you were a motorsports fan too,” he comments, Oscar looking at him attentively with his hands folded under his chin.
Oscar nods enthusiastically, the swoop of his hair flopping up and down. “Yeah! Big McLaren fan-“
“No way, me too!” Lando interrupts.
“I know,” Oscar’s mouth morphs into a smug smirk. “No coincidence the car I gave you was a McLaren 720s,” he sing-songs.
The waiter drops off their plates on the table, politely wishing them a good meal. They both thank before he quickly walks away, straight to the kitchen. Lando engulfs a few forkfuls of raviolis and gulps down half his glass of water, wanting to eat but also excited to be done so they can keep talking.
“You have to come by mine next year so we can watch a race together,” Lando points out, already planning which race would be best to watch and which snacks Oscar would enjoy. He has a quick thought to all the Australian treats he’d stacked in his cupboard.
“I’d love that,” Oscar says, cheeks rosy.
Damn, Lando can’t believe they serve their chicken parm this hot here. He offers his glass of water to Oscar, who ducks behind the rim of the glass and takes a grateful sip.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, passing the glass back. “I’ll talk your ears off about McLaren’s front suspension design.”
And as much as Lando doesn’t really enjoy the technical side of car design, he just knows he’d have a great time listening to Oscar rant about mechanical engineering. It’s his field of study, and a passionate Oscar is always fascinating to follow through his train of thoughts.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he jokes and both of them giggle warmly at that.
They continue talking about F1, sharing their favourite drivers and tracks as well as races. Lando learns Oscar is a Webber fan because, well, he’s Australian. Typical Aussie pride. He also mentions Daniel and Lando feels a little bit awkward, realizing Oscar doesn’t know that Daniel the ex is also Daniel the driver. Thankfully he moves on quickly, gushing about Doohan instead and how he’s hopeful his year will go well for him.
His favourite track is Spa, and Lando approves the choice because he has Belgian origins, despite it being a clearly inferior track racing-wise compared to Silverstone.
Which 2024 race is their favourite sparks a hefty debate, however, Oscar insisting Baku is a masterpiece in race craft whilst Lando argues the sentimentality of Abu Dhabi and McLaren getting their first constructor in two decades takes the cake.
The discussion mellows down into more meaningless topics, talking about Christmas plans. Oscar plans on chilling at his place, since Australia is far, and it’s too expensive to visit every year for a student. Lando feels a little pang at that, promising Oscar he’ll stay in London until the last minute to keep him company. He sees his family all the time anyway, so they’ll forgive him for only showing up a few hours before dinner.
They also agree to go for a walk around Pearl park again, Lando wanting to show Oscar the shark path, so he can appreciate the variations in poses of the sculptures.
Inevitably, Oscar brings up Lando’s gift-giving attempts.
“I don’t know, Osc. I realized that he’s usually in Australia this time of the year to celebrate the Holidays with his fam, so he already has easy access to all the treats.”
Oscar hums, looking thoughtful.
“Are you still looking for a gift idea, then?”
“Yes,” Lando answers, considering all the present options he’d come up with and discarded just as fast. “It’s giving me a hard time, because he’s pretty well-off so everything I think of giving him feels kinda useless.”
The table falls silent for a moment, Oscar staring at his plate lost in thoughts and Lando gazing at the moles on his face.
“Maybe if you’re having difficulties finding a physical gift, then giving him something immaterial would work?” Oscar ponders.
“What do you mean?” Lando questions, intrigued by the suggestion.
“Something you can share, like an activity to do together. So it’s not something Daniel will already have, and it could be a meaningful moment to bridge the distance,” Oscar explains, still looking somewhat in his own head.
Lando thinks about it for a bit, and it makes a lot of sense to him. He’ll have to sit on it to find the perfect activity to share, but he’s happy to have a new concept to explore, having already considered the material world in depth.
Right now, though, he wants to shift the discussion onto a different topic. Because Oscar’s mouth is tugged in a thin line and his eyes don’t have that sparkle Lando adores, and he’s looking all reserved, refusing to make eye contact. And that is not the carefree Oscar Lando has got to know this last week. For some reason, whenever Daniel is brought up, Oscar seems to dim.
Lando will not let Oscar hide back into his shell, not tonight.
“That’s a really good idea, I’ll keep it in mind,” Lando starts, bringing Oscar’s attention back to him. “But we’re having dinner together and what I want is to talk with you, about stuff not only I enjoy, but you also do,” he continues, his stomach easing down at the small smile Oscar flashes.
And Lando knows he’s done the right thing, because Oscar has never been as lively as that night. They share a whole bottle of wine, and Lando even gets a hug when it’s late, and they have to say goodbye.
It’s a memorable dinner.
-•-
Throughout the day, Lando thinks of things he could do with Daniel that they’d both enjoy. He browses through a few online blogs, suggesting stuff like pottery and tango which he swiftly rejects. It’s as he’s checking his Instagram updates that he comes across an F1 post— a stupid steak Sauber livery montage.
He gives it a deserved like, and scrolls a bit, before coming back and letting the idea settle in his mind.
An F1 related activity. That’s what he’s looking for.
Lando loves Formula 1, and Daniel used to be a driver. Maybe having been fired recently would make interacting with anything F1 related less enjoyable to Daniel, but Lando’s sure that if he chooses right it can be good to the both of them.
Going to watch a race from the grandstands is the first plausible idea that pops in his mind. And he’s very happy with it. He considers just inviting Daniel to his place to watch one together, but that doesn’t really feel like a Christmas gift at all.
Lando spends the rest of the day pondering which race Daniel would be the most likely to accept to attend together, but that Lando would also enjoy, shooting Oscar a few texts to confirm his thoughts.
He can’t find the right option.
All races are either outside of Europe and Lando doesn’t feel like flying out to Asia or the Americas, or Daniel has had bad experiences at those places. He refuses to bring him to Silverstone, because that’s his home track, and he wants to share that with his family, same reasoning for Spa, and the Italian races just don’t inspire him for some reason. He doesn’t want a RedBull-centered track either because of Daniel's recent history with them.
Worse, the more he thinks about it, the less he’s happy with the gift idea.
Lando’s not sure the experience will be as enjoyable as he was hoping for when he’d first imagined it. If Daniel is going, he will be recognized. And that means that Lando accompanying him is going to make a lot of noise as well, and that makes a shiver run down Lando’s spine.
He’s also not convinced that he’d have a great time watching with Daniel. Daniel was the type to hyper focus on the smallest of details, so he’d probably just criticize driving lines and that doesn’t sound particularly enticing to Lando. And Daniel probably hates McLaren. Lando doesn’t want to watch a race with someone who doesn’t appreciate his team. Sue him, he’s a passionate fan.
No, if he’s to go watch a race it’d be with someone who also likes McLaren. Someone who isn’t high profile, and with whom he could watch the race from their own little bubble without the media bothering them. Someone who would talk his ears off about race craft and how well McLaren managed the regulations. Wear stupid merch with him and whistle at every overtake, even if it’s Stroll on an Alpine.
No, F1 tickets aren't the right gift. Lando doesn’t feel like he’d enjoy it as much as he would in a different situation, and Daniel with the retirement wound so fresh would probably prefer avoiding the paddock for a while.
Lando sighs and closes his phone. He’ll have to think of something else.
For now, though, he pulls on his coat and ties his boots, closes the door of his apartment carefully, and makes his way to Pearl park where Oscar is waiting for him.
-•-
It’s December 23rd, and Lando is motivated to find the perfect gift for Daniel.
He has already reviewed in his head how his previous attempts failed, and is now more determined than ever to find the gift. He wants a shared moment, and something that won’t include media pressure, because that’s where their relationship had gone wrong at first.
He wants something private and personal.
He’s had some time to ruminate on this, and come to the conclusion that organizing a trip for just the two of them would be ideal. He feels butterflies flutter in his stomach. He’s so excited to start planning!
He makes himself a hot chocolate and sits down at his desk, bundled in a cosy blanket, his lamp dimmed down and the sky big and dark outside his window.
Daniel and him have only ever really travelled together when it comes to going to races, so this would be a new experience. And Lando needs it to be perfect. He needs this to be the trip of Daniel’s dreams.
To start off, he makes a quick google search on Daniel’s origins, figuring he’d really enjoy something that feels like home. With Australian blood, Daniel also has some Italian heritage through Sicily. Lando gladly notes this down, having already ruled out Australia as a potential destination since Daniel already has a whole life there.
He spends a few minutes browsing his computer in search of different spots to visit, only to be drawn back to Italy each time. Sicily sounds perfect for Daniel, and he probably hasn’t ever had the chance to thoroughly visit the place, F1 keeping him busy.
Happy with his choice, Lando starts checking potential activities to do there.
He finds that Sicily is an island, so that there are plenty of coasts and beaches to visit. He knows Daniel loves a beach day, thinking back on how excited he was to pack his budgie-smugglers every time he’d go back home in Australia. Lando also knows Daniel is a huge motorbike fan.
A quick search confirms his thoughts that you can follow the whole coast on motorbikes, an itinerary already being available for a trip of 1 to 2 weeks. He jots some of the stops down on a notebook and goes back to checking other itineraries.
Whilst Lando knows riding motorbikes is pretty out of his comfort zone, he knows Daniel loves it, and he is hopeful he’ll grow into it. And they make pretty cool sounds when revving.
In many itineraries, Lando notes Messina as the starting point, the airport well-placed and offering easy access to plenty of refuelling spots for the bikes. He jots it down in his notebook and moves on to writing down interesting spots he sees through his research.
Taking a small sip, a quick warmth coating his mouth, he decides the trip shall go West before wrapping around up to Etna. He makes a checkbox of the elements he needs to include.
He spends a few hours carefully crafting the ideal trail, only finishing late in the night. His hot cocoa is now cold, and his blanket has slipped off his shoulders. Lando feels tired, and a bit lonely, having planned this trip all alone.
In the end, he chose Messina as the starting point. They’d go to Palermo, Marsala, and then Agrigento to visit the valley of temples. Lando always found remains of previous civilizations a bit sinister, but he knows they’ll make some great pictures.
They’d pass by Pozzalo and Catalina before hiking up Etna to observe the view. Lando is a twitch streamer, so definitely not as athletic as Daniel, but he still thinks they’ll be able to get up there as long as they take pauses often enough.
To end it off, they’d go back to Messina and fly back home, having hopefully reignited the flame of their relationship during the 2 weeks of the trip.
Lando nods to himself, feeling numb at the paths. He’s exhausted.
He also found a bunch of hotels where they’ll be able to sleep, and a few local restaurants. Sadly for Lando, they’re all pretty seafood-centric, being on an island’s coast and all. But he also noted down some McDonald’s he’ll have access to, so Daniel can still enjoy the local specialities. He’d have preferred some more hearty meal options, but he’ll content himself with getting Daniel’s feedback on the dishes.
Satisfied with his work for the night, he closes his computer and turns off the light.
-•-
The next morning is a disaster.
Lando reads back his notes on the trip, eyes glazing over all the little details, and promptly bangs his head on the desk. He’s not satisfied with it anymore.
The motorbikes are fine, and Lando is still pretty open to trying them because they do sound cool, but he’d much prefer a trip with fewer destinations to visit, so he can just walk around and get to really know the place in depth.
He’s not that interested in visiting the ruins or the volcano, especially since they’d be moving around so quickly to see everything that he already knows time to interact with the locals would be limited, and taking a stop at ruins and a volcano of all places isn’t going to solve that.
And he just knows he’d be holding Daniel back during the volcano hike. The guy is an athlete for crying out loud, he’d just get annoyed having to stop every few minutes.
Lando’s not even going to get to experience the local cuisine, since everything on that godforsaken coast has fish. Or seafood. And none of those he likes.
He feels like he’s about to cry. He’s frustrated with himself, with the trip, with how it’s perfectly tailored to Daniel’s preferences and somehow there still isn’t a single thing that excites him. In the end, all those logical details might as well be excuses, because the truth is that he knows he would be forcing himself to enjoy it. And he hates himself for that thought, because he knows Daniel would naturally love it.
Lando unplugs his phone and mindlessly dials Oscar’s number, wanting to hear him talk, so he can pretend his failed gift attempt doesn’t exist for a bit.
“… Lando?” Oscar grumbles after three rings.
Lando feels a pressure lift from his shoulders. “Morning Osc. Did I wake you?”
“It’s fine,” he answers, and Lando glances at his phone’s screen to see it’s only half past seven. Oops. “Are you alright?” Oscar asks, sounding very sleepy.
Lando sighs. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I’ve been trying to find a gift for Daniel, y’know, a moment to share like you said, and I’m frustrated because none of my ideas have felt right.”
The line goes quiet for a minute, only Oscar’s soft breaths reaching Lando’s ears.
“And whether it’s something material or immaterial, it’s just not working, it doesn’t convey the message I want and now it’s Christmas Eve and I’ve still got nothing and the time is running out-“
“Lando,” Oscar interrupts, tone way more serious than before. “Breathe. Let’s take a minute and then talk about it, ok?”
“No, I really have to get it off my chest because it’s stressing me out and I feel like I’m about to explode,” he insists.
“Hey, listen. What about this: you take a breath, and I’ll do the talking for a minute,” Oscar argues, and before Lando has the time to say anything else- “that way I can tell you all about how well you’ve done and you can reorder your thoughts. Is that fine?”
“Fine,” he reluctantly agrees.
“Thanks,” Oscar says, a smile in his voice. “You’ve been doing well, Lando. It’s a difficult task to erase six months of silence in a single gift. It’s good that you’re having difficulties settling for one present, because it shows that you care.”
Lando inhales deeply, letting the air fill his lungs.
“And you’ve been trying really hard. You spent a whole morning running through five different stores just to get the best Australian snacks available,” Oscar laughs. “That’s dedication, and I’m so amazed by how committed you are.”
“But at the end of the day, it’s the meaning behind a gift that matters more than the gift itself. If there’s no gift that feels right, maybe what you need is just honesty. I think it could be good to send Daniel a letter where you’re simply truthful with him,” Oscar concludes.
Lando lets the words flow in the quiet of his apartment for a few seconds, listening to Oscar’s advice and breathing deeply. He needed to hear that.
“You might be right,” he starts. “With a letter it’d be easier to say what I want to say. But I fear I’d still have difficulties getting it exactly right, and I’m dyslexic.”
Lando feels a need to voice his concerns, because it’s true. He’s not a particularly apt writer, and pen and paper doesn’t offer autocorrect. But he also wouldn’t send such a message by text, because it’d be disrespectful.
“That’s ok,” Oscar interrupts his thoughts. “If you want I can pass by later today and help you make sure everything sounds right,” he offers quietly.
Lando would like that. Because it’d let him see Oscar, and he would feel bad to push him aside today when he promised to hold him company until Christmas, but also because Oscar gets him and if there’s one person who’d be able to help him, it’d be Oscar.
“That’d be really nice,” Lando confirms. “Oh, and I want to thank you. For what you said earlier. It was really sweet,” he adds, feeling a bit sentimental.
“I’ll see you later, Lan,” Oscar says, waiting for Lando to say his goodbyes before cutting the line.
Lando exhales. Time to get to work.
-•-
Lando glares at the page in front of him. It’s half blank, most words are crossed-out, and if he lifts his head there’s a mountain of balled up papers all over his desk. There’s even one floating in his mug.
It’s now well into the evening, and his hair is greasy when he passes a hand through it. He doesn’t even remember if he ate lunch. Lando’s been writing all day and nothing he’s put down has landed right. He’s a right mess.
Lando grabs the letter and crunches it in his hands, taking out all his anger on the poor paper. He’s aiming it at the trash bin when a harsh knock startles him.
Dazedly, he leaves his chair and makes his way to the entrance of his apartment.
Behind the door is none other than his Oscar. He’s bundled in five layers of clothing, and maybe he is clothed for the right temperature this time around— it’s not like Lando would know. He’s holding a brown paper bag with a cup of something in his hands.
Lando opens the door wider without thinking, gesturing for Oscar to get in.
“Hi! I brought you some food,” Oscar snickers to himself, gazing softly at Lando’s messy curls. “Looks like I had the right intuition.”
Lando takes the bag handed to him, a waft of fresh-baked bread and cured meats drifting to his nose. A cup of mocha accompanies the meal.
“Yeah,” Lando sighs.
As soon as Oscar is out of his coat, Lando steps in and lets himself melt into his arms. He needs a hug right now— the day has been long and draining. Oscar responds in kind, briefly tightening his arms around him before pulling away and nodding towards the hallway, trusting Lando to take the lead.
Lando drops the food on the edge of the desk, away from the crumpled papers, turning back to look at a curious Oscar.
“I can’t do it,” he admits for the first time out loud.
“Oh, Lan.”
“It’s just- I keep trying to write and every time it comes out wrong,” Lando explains, his eyebrows pinched in a frown. “Will you help me?” he asks, a hopeful shimmer in his eyes.
And Oscar, with his lips in a thin line, doesn’t answer directly. He shakes his head no, and Lando feels something tighten in his chest.
“But- you said you’d come by to help me!” He argues.
“I know, and I’m sorry, it’s just…“ Oscar starts, hesitating. “I can’t bring myself to write it with you,” he finally says, sadness tainting his voice.
It sounds final. It resonates in the quiet of the room, Lando at a loss for words.
“I can help check your letter once it’s written, but please don’t make me write it with you,” Oscar continues, his words falling out of his mouth in a near plea.
“I can’t help with that,” he confirms again, more certain in his tone. “I can… I can clean up your desk for you, and make some tea. Let you take a shower to reorganize your thoughts, if that’s what you need,” he resolves, nodding to himself, already reaching for one of the scribbled pages.
Lando says a quick thank you and gathers some clean clothes, before scampering off to the bathroom.
When he steps in the shower, it feels like he’s been holding his breath all day. The water runs hot on his back, and it stings against his sore muscles, having spent so long hunched over. He reconsiders what Oscar said— reorganize your thoughts.
Lando thinks of what he’d wanted to write in the letter.
He wants an apology, for how he went quiet on Daniel at the moment he needed him the most. That part had been relatively easy to draft, because he’s felt guilty about that for months.
But he doesn’t know how to bring up that he wants to try again. Every time he goes to add how much he misses their relationship, he can’t articulate the truth. Because he doesn’t miss the media and the visibility, and he doesn’t miss the pace of Daniel’s life. He doesn’t miss losing him for the holidays, and he doesn’t miss the constant noise either.
He might wish to regain the intimacy they had shared back then, but Lando’s not able to connect it directly to Daniel anymore.
When he closes his eyes, he hears his kettle whistling.
And maybe it’s fitting that this is how the pieces finally snap in place for Lando— gently, in the quiet of his apartment, all warm.
Maybe what he needs isn’t Daniel.
The shower turns off with a definite click. Lando dries off, puts clean clothes on, and goosebumps prickle along his arms. Steam curls around him as he opens the door, and he’s met with the view of Oscar, leaning against his kitchen counter. He’s talking quietly on the phone, something about pizza, and there’s a steaming mug of tea nearby.
There’s a pile of paper balls stacked in his recycling bin.
A sigh of relief escapes him. Lando’s mind feels clear for the first time in months.
Oscar arches an eyebrow as he notices him, offering a small wave and quickly finishing off his call. Lando waves back, a slight beat of hesitation before stepping in close.
“Hi,” Oscar starts, softly. “You feeling better?”
Lando nods, letting a small smile grace his lips, searching Oscar’s eyes.
“How were those shower thoughts?” Oscar giggles.
“They were great. Very helpful.”
“I’m glad. I cleaned up your desk, so it’s all yours if you want to write down those thoughts before they escape,” Oscar says, a sad tinge to his words.
“No,” Lando refuses. “I don’t want to write anymore.”
Oscar stills. Lando notices the subtle way his face twists with confusion, his shoulders drawing tight and his fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. “No?”
“No,” Lando confirms. “I don’t think I have anything to say to Daniel.”
Oscar’s breath stutters, and Lando lets his words land heavy between them. It looks like Oscar is waiting for the rest of a sentence that isn’t going to come. He lets the silence linger, and he lets Oscar stare at the ground between them, shifting his weight.
“That’s- that’s good, I guess,” he finally says, tone painfully neutral, as if stopping himself from saying more. “That’s closure.”
“Yeah.”
They stare at each other, the kettle clicking off in the background.
“Well, if you don’t need help anymore,” Oscar begins, eyes downcast. “Then I’ll head out. Let you rest.”
Oscar pushes off the counter, and Lando can’t stop himself from stepping closer, blocking his path to the entrance. Oscar stops moving. His eyes find Lando’s, asking questions that he can’t voice aloud.
“Lan-”
“I don’t want you to go,” he blurts.
Lando wishes he could have worded that better, clearer, but it’s the most honest he’s been all day. He doesn’t want Oscar to go. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Lando wants him in his life. He wants to share his life with him.
“Not because I’m sad, or lonely, but because I just…” Lando hesitates, finding the right words. “I just want you here. With me.”
Oscar breathes deeply. Swallows.
“And this isn’t just you filling a space?” He asks, hopeful.
Lando shakes his head. “No. I want you, Oscar. You and your quiet and your stupid fun facts and in all your Australian-ness, even at six in the morning when you’re barely awake,” he continues, flushing bright pink and a big smile on his face as he goes on about all of Oscar’s little quirks that he has become familiar with.
Oscar’s shoulders loosen.
“Okay,” he says, nodding to himself as if approving his thoughts.
Oscar steps forward and tugs at the sleeve of Lando’s jumper, narrowing the gap between them. “I want this too.”
Lando lifts a hand to Oscar’s cheek, tilting his head just so before softly pressing his lips against Oscar’s. The kiss is warm and easy, unhurried. He pushes onto his tippy-toes to get even closer. His hand traces all over Oscar’s face, and Oscar’s curl over his arm, as if they were both checking that this is real.
And it is.
When they separate, Lando feels grounded. There are no nerves, no panic, no emptiness. He feels warm all over. He’s at the only place he ever wants to be— within Oscar’s arms.
-•-
Hi Daniel,
I hope this letter finds you well. I feel like I need to be honest with you, because I hurt you and I feel terrible about that.
I want to apologize for disappearing from your life at the worst of times. It was unfair of me to leave without a word and I didn’t handle well how overwhelmed I felt. I’m sorry.
I also want to tell you that I don’t regret our time together. I’m grateful for the great times we shared, all the memories, and thankful for the lessons you’ve taught me. But I realize now that this relationship wouldn’t have been sustainable for me, and I needed to step back.
Wishing you plenty of coffees and motorcycle trips in the future,
-Lando