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Oscar was part of the clean 50/50 split of the world population who had a soulmark. This was a fact that wasn't very well known, considering it was a fact that he kept very, very close to his chest, somewhat literally, considering the placement of his mark.
Soulmarks were understood to appear from birth, manifesting as birthmarks, or sometimes scars, which would eventually demarcate a space on someones body which would direct them to their 'soulmate', someone who would have a reciprocal marking, someone who the universe, mother nature, whoever, decided would be 'it' for you.
Oscar's grew into a solid number four, resting right on his sternum, developing fully when he was fourteen, right after he'd landed himself in England to pursue his growing karting career.
He remembers standing in the dim lights of the bathrooms in his old dorm, tracing out the shape as it fully formed, listening out carefully for anyone else entering the shared bathrooms, eyes locked on the small number, wondering who it would point to.
As he rose through the karting ranks, he started keeping an eye on the racers around him, cautiously hopeful that he might be racing them one day. It was then when he noticed Lando, a boy only a couple years above him and already shooting through the ranks. By the time Oscar was sixteen, he was already a test driver for McLaren, this was also around the time Oscar realised that his somewhat parasocial infatuation was maybe a little bit more than hero worship, maybe a bit more along the lines of a crush. Which meant by the time Lando was announced to be driving in Formula One in McLaren, Oscar was one of the first to know the news, frantically reading through the announcement, still not changed out of his own race suit after his own quali he'd just completed as part of the formula Renault series he was competing in.
His heart almost stopped in his chest when his racing number was announced, a great big papaya orange four superimposed over a photo of Lando in a race suit. Oscar raised his hand to rub absentmindedly at the mark on his chest, a burning hope rising in his chest.
When Oscar was offered a contract for McLaren for 2023, he jumped at the chance, mostly for the chance to get out of Alpine. There was also that small hope which had followed him as he rose through the ranks, making itself known once again as the opportunity to not only race alongside Lando in formula one but as his teammate became not only possible but within reach, sealed with the flourish of a pen pushed into his hand by Mark Webber.
In the early days, he'd thought he wouldn't have to make the first move, figuring if Lando had the corresponding marks, he'd probably bring it up. Or it would come up naturally. Somehow though, every time they managed to edge towards the subject, Lando would avoid it like the plague, deflecting easily with a smile on his face, practiced.
After a somewhat awkward start, they seemed to click together, falling into the spaces they left for each other easily, sharing conversation as if they'd known each other years ,every step towards each other cemented Oscar's certainty that his mark might be reciprocal. The years passed quickly, season after season tracing them around the globe, yet Lando still sidestepped any question related to the existence of soulmarks with such ease that Oscar learned to stop asking. After three years, he figured that if Lando didn't want to bring it up, he probably had good reason, even if that reason was that he didn't want Oscar, not like that. He tried not to let that thought burrow too hard into his sternum, focusing instead on the relationship he was allowed to have, as restricted as it was.
****
Considering the way that Oscar had been practically followed by cameras and paparazzi the past year, it was honestly a miracle he hadn't been found out earlier.
He'd not really been paying attention at the beach, having just come out of the water when a fan came up to ask for a photo. He'd pretty much immediately switched into 'media mode' and agreed, smiling easily at the camera. He only realised far, far too late that his mark had been on full display, sitting dark against his pale skin, marking out a clear number four onto his sternum.
So that led to now. Sitting in the guest room of Mark's house and watching his phone blow up with texts, mostly from the PR team. Notably, no texts from Lando appeared on his home screen.
Oscar tried not to think too hard into it, wrong time zones, Lando not having his phone. So many reasons. So many good reasons.
So when it had been three days since the photos had done the rounds on social media and Oscar hadn't received anything, not even three little dots in the bottom corner of their text thread had appeared, not that Oscar had been checking, he started getting a bit concerned
A selfish part of him had been glad for the photos, invasive as they'd been, because it gave him a reason to bring it up, gave them an opportunity to talk about it, even if it upset the balance Oscar had been living the past few years, yet Lando refused to bite the unintentional bait, staying silent on the other end of Oscar's phone.
****
"Do you actually have a four on your chest" Lando asked, bluntly, slightly reserved as if Oscar was going to kick him out for asking the question. He'd barged into Oscar's drivers room right before pre-season testing. This was the first time they'd been in the same room alone since the photos had come out, the first time they'd actually come close to talking about it.
During meetings at the MTC, media obligations and the multitude of pre-season requirements that they were constantly required to attend, the photos and Oscar's mark had hovered over them both incessantly, breaking down the easygoing relationship they'd fallen into, turning it into static as Oscar felt the mark burn in his sternum every time Lando's eyes flicked down to his chest, as if looking for it.
"You saw the photos then" Oscar replied, flicking his eyes towards the other man, trying his best not to sound too accusing, probably failing.
Lando winced clearly aware that he should be at least somewhat guilty about his avoidance, "Yeah I saw it" Lando was awkwardly hovering, "bit difficult not to", he tried to joke, referring to the way social media had positively blown up after the photo's had been posted, pointing out the connection between the four on Oscar's chest and Lando's racing number and branding almost immediately.
Oscar looked over to him, he was scuffing his foot into the carpet slightly, the rough sound of it filling the silence "oh, you didn't say anything so I wasn't sure…" Oscar trailed off slightly, hoping that it might prompt an explanation. Hoping that Lando might actually have a plausible explanation for practically ghosting him in the month and a half since the photos had come out.
"I don't have a soulmark" Lando blurted out.
Oscar froze.
"Not that I don't have yours, I just don't have one" he rushed out before letting out another awkward laugh "part of the other 50 percent I guess" he half shrugged as he said it, as if trying to downplay it, trying to soften the blow.
It didn't really help how Oscar felt like he'd been hit by a metal bat, or maybe an F1 car running at full speed down a straight.
Oscar could feel how his face had frozen in place, decidedly did not want to know what kind of expression he was making, sure that it was probably conveying something horrifically transparent. He had never really learned how to hide his expressions from Lando.
Mismatched soulmates weren't exactly uncommon, but they weren't exactly common either, Oscar felt a cold sensation of dread creep up his spine as the knowledge of their divergent marks, or lack thereof spilled into the space between them.
"Oh" Oscar swallowed, trying to salvage the silence "I mean, it might not even be yours then" he tried to deflect, tried to push the burning sensation in his throat back down, tried to desperately drag back the ease of their conversation from before.
"Oh yeah? trying to replace me Piastri?" Lando joked back, tone playful, but green eyes sharp, burning into his chest like he could see the mark even through his layers of fireproofs.
Oscar just scoffed, grateful that the simmering tension in the air had loosened, "not everything's about you mate" he threw back, rolling off the massage table he'd dropped down on to grab at his phone which was set on the table across the room, charging "also can't replace you if it's not yours" he added on.
"uhuh" Lando muttered absentmindedly, fiddling around with his own phone for a second before shifting so he was no longer leaning against the wall "right, well, I'll see you in the garage then?" Oscar just responded with a non-committal hum.
Lando quietly pulled the drivers door shut open, slipping through it and letting the door click shut with a soft sound as he exited.
Oscar dropped his phone back down on the table, leaning forwards until his head rested on the wall, squeezing his eyes shut as a burning sensation crept up behind them.
****
"your soulmate could be Beyonce"
"what?" They were sitting in an almost empty airport terminal after their flight had been delayed for storms, Lando and Oscar both sequestered in a corner, backed up against the large glass windows that overlooked the taxi area.
"Her album '4'?" Lando prompted, raising his brows.
Oscar just gave him an unimpressed look, "I've never listened to it"
Lando rolled his eyes "Take it as a sign to listen to more than just house music then"
He made a face at Lando, "whose gonna tell Jay-z?" he asked, drily, Lando grimaced, before patting Oscar on the shoulder mock consolingly.
"think I'll leave that one to you" he offered, magnanimously.
Oscar scoffed at him "thanks mate, appreciate it"
Lando let out a bright laugh, slumping further down into his seat "or like Theo James" Lando continued, undeterred.
Oscar made a face "who?"
Lando side eyed him "y'know, the hot guy who played Four in Divergent? I thought you had sisters?"
"Do you have an encyclopaedic knowledge of people associated with the number four? or what?"
"It's good for branding" came the cheerful response.
Oscar furrowed his brow at the other man, squinting at him disbelievingly. Lando just grinned back at him, giving nothing away.
Lando squinted his eyes at him in the way that always made Oscar feel flayed open, seen in a way he wasn't sure if he loved or hated "Are there any more fours on you? or do you think Lewis is too old?"
Oscar kicked him in the shin. hard.
Lando rolled off the chair and onto the floor, lifting his head off the floor to glare at Oscar as Oscar shamelessly laughed at him.
If this was all he'd get, he'd hold it in both hands and savour it for all it was worth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was 5am in Monaco when Lando woke up. He groggily blinked his eyes open, staring out into the darkness of his bedroom as he tried to locate what had woken him up. When nothing became immediately apparent, he slipped out of bed, shuffling into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He scooped his phone off the nightstand as he left, tucking it into his pocket.
He pulled a chilled bottle of water out of his fridge, taking a swig before setting it down, staring through the semi darkness as the sun started to peek above the horizon, barely visible through his window.
He set the bottle down, leaning against the counter with one elbow and pulling out his phone with the other hand, mindlessly scrolling through twitter. He paused when the screen loaded, showcasing a shirtless picture of his teammate on a beach, eyes widening in surprise. Shifting slightly, he clicked onto the photo, shamelessly zooming in.
Now look, he had eyes, he knew Oscar was objectively attractive, had been aware of this fact for years actually, but he had somehow never seen his teammate without a shirt on, which was weird, especially since from what he could see, Oscar really didn't have much to be ashamed of, and hell, Lando was just a man, a very weak man, of course he was going to look.
Lando scrolled through the image mindlessly, before he stopped, paused, blinked, squinted at the screen again. Was that a soulmark on Oscar's chest?. He stood up, using both hands to grip at his phone and zoom further into the image.
Right there, in the middle of Oscar's chest, was a number four, dark against his skin, almost like a bruise, nestled right on his sternum, reaching just over where his heart sat.
A four.
Lando's number.
He almost dropped his phone, before clicking it off like it burnt him, letting it drop face down onto the counter with a clatter. He stared out at the windows, at the sun steadily rising above the horizon. He grabbed the water bottle off the counter, taking long swallows of the bottle as his feet made aborted movements to pace around the kitchen.
He knew, absently, that Oscar had a mark, hell, half the population had one, it would be a pretty solid guess either way, but he'd heard him mention it at some point, he knew it probably related to why he never took his shirt off on camera, but Lando had never personally seen it, until now.
He abandoned the still open bottle on the counter, grabbing his phone again and walking back to his room, footsteps loud against the stillness of the morning.
Lando silently laid in bed, frantically googling 'celebrities associated with the number four', 'characters with four', 'people well known for four', fingers swiping past countless listings of his own face, his car, his number, him. He swallowed down the burning jealousy that coursed through him at anyone who looked like they might fit the scope of the number, scrolling faster and faster through anyone and everything who had ever even been pictured around the number four.
Then, when the frantic energy got too much for him, he got out of bed, throwing the covers off himself and flicking on the lights, squinting as his room was immediately bathed in light. He then stood in front of the mirror, throwing off his sleep shirt and bending every which way in the mirror as he tried to find anything that could plausibly make an 81 shaped mark on his body.
To his dismay, nothing magically appeared on his body, the same nondescript marks he'd had the last twenty-six years reflecting back at him.
Lando brought his hand up to pathetically press against his eyes, fingers threading up into his hair as he tried to even out his breathing. He cursed to himself quietly, staring at himself, at his unmarked body in the mirror helplessly.
He opened up his text thread with Oscar, looked at the last messages they'd sent, something about a mutual friend's get together over new years, looked at the text box, turned the phone off again. He threw it on the bed, letting the covers swallow up the phone before lunging after it, flicking it on again, switching to the still open tab of the photo, swiping back onto their messages.
With a groan he turned off his phone entirely, swiping the 'shut down' button with a sense of guilt, before opening his nightstand drawer and chucking the phone all the way in the back. With a huff, he climbed back into bed, throwing the covers back over his body and staring out at the closed door, watching light creep through the crack in his doorframe.
He didn't get much sleep that night.
****
Lando had grown up in a house full of soulmarks, himself and his youngest sister the only ones without them. He had always begged to see his older brother and his other sisters' marks, looking at them until they grew bored of him. He used to trace the shape on the inside of his mother's wrist, the director to his father, simmering in jealousy that he would never have someone like that, someone who was meant for him so much so that the universe would paint a sign on them, pointing out in bright glaring letters to Lando that This One, This One was for him.
And even on the reverse, a soulmark meant that someone would be out there to love him for all his faults, someone that would understand all of him, wholly, without hesitation.
The resentment was a quiet thing, but it made him avoid any and all contact with soulmate marks, redirecting questions and flat out avoiding discussion like the plague. So when his new teammate started prodding around in the beginning of their relationship, he quickly shut down any avenue of conversation, hoping he'd eventually get the hint. This wasn't without escaping the knowledge that Oscar had a soulmark somewhere, Lando tried his hardest to pack his resentment into a little box and throw it into the furthest reaches of his mind, refusing to let something as small as that sour their relationship.
Thankfully, Oscar seemed to be good at reading him. He dropped it.
****
Their first interaction was painfully awkward after Lando dropped the painful fact that he in fact had no soulmate. Lando didn't miss the fact that his admission made Oscar look like he'd been hit by a car, a pained expression flicking across his face as Lando tried to hide his own disappointment.
Oscar had masked his disappointment quickly, barely missing a beat before suggesting that the mark had nothing to do with Lando. Which. Ouch. Lando felt a spark of jealousy, outrage at the dismissal run through his chest, even though he knew he really had no right to feel it.
That was probably why he decided to use his nights of research to tease Oscar, throwing out Beyonce and the guy who played Four in Divergent at Oscar, just to rile him up. Lando tried his best not to take satisfaction out of the fact that Oscar refused to entertain his ideas, shutting him down. Mostly failed.
He threw Lewis out there just to be annoying though, and he probably deserved that kick, even though he'd never admit it.
****
"What's that on your shoulder?"
He and Fewtrell were hanging around his Monaco apartment, Max having come over after new years, prodding playfully at the 'Oscar thing' as Lando had dubbed it, before dropping it at Lando's harsh look. They'd been playing Mario Kart when Lando had purposefully barged Max off the track, causing Max to down his almost full glass of water on Lando's head, drenching his shirt.
Lando had immediately dropped his controller, cursing Max out as he pulled the shirt off his stomach where it was sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He'd grabbed the bottom of the shirt, pulling it off as he got up to grab a new one from his room. It was when he turned his back on a still laughing Max when the seemingly innocuous question spilled out into the room.
Lando twisted his neck around as far as he could, which turned out to be not that far at all, only catching a dark blur on the back of his shoulder in his periphery as he turned to look. He shrugged at Max "pretty sure it's a bruise, smacked my shoulder on the shelf the other day" he dismissed easily.
"Hold on" Max grabbed at his shoulder, forcibly stilling Lando where he'd been standing, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.
"Looks like an 8 or something" he mused, pushing at Lando's shoulder thoughtfully, squinting further.
"What?" Lando yelped, jumping out of Max's grasp and spinning to face him.
Max stared, clearly slightly shocked by Lando's outburst, "Chill out mate, I just said it looked like an 8" Max dismissed, rolling his eyes.
Clearly something clicked mid statement for him because he froze after a second, meeting Lando's eyes with a disbelieving expression on his face. They both stared in silence for a minute before Lando was running towards the closest mirror, almost launching himself across the room when he almost tripped over the coffee table. Max was close behind, cursing as he stubbed his toe on that same coffee table.
Lando twisted in front of the mirror, pulling at his shoulder with his other hand as he tried to position himself so he could see the mark. When he finally figured out how, he made out the distinct shapes on his shoulders forming an 81, placed just over the jut of his shoulder, curved ever so slightly to follow the shape of his shoulder blade. Lando brought up a hand to trace over the shapes, fingers brushing the top of the 8 almost reverently.
Max, standing off to the side let out a slight laugh "This is great, you can just tell Oscar-"
Lando interrupted him, spinning back around almost frantically "Tell Oscar? I can't tell Oscar!"
Max paused "Why not?"
"Because I told him I didn't have one, and now he'll think I was lying to avoid him or something"
Max looked at him like he was stupid "Well why'd you tell him you didn't have one?"
"Because I didn't have one" Lando hissed "and if I tell him now I have one he'll probably think I was rejecting his mark in the first place!" he started pacing "and soul marks don't just appear out of nowhere, everyone knows that. right?" he asked, almost desperately.
Max was still looking at him like he'd just suggested changing his flouro yellow branding "so what do you want to do then?" he asked
Lando stared at Max. Max stared at Lando. They stared at each other in silence for a couple beats.
"I don't know" Lando whispered.
****
A few days after that, Lando himself had gone to the beach, shucking off his shirt and running out into the water where Max had already jumped in. Having forgotten about his newly minted mark, and the importance of hiding it until he figured out what to tell Oscar, Lando had followed him in. This was mistake number one, or mistake number three hundred and twelve, if Lando was counting everything that had led him to this moment.
In an incredibly cruel twist of fate, his own mark had done the rounds of social media much like Oscar's had, setting their own little corner on fire all over again as people matched up the unmistakable numbers, meaning Oscar had almost definitely seen it, meaning Lando really, really needed to talk to his teammate before he got the wrong idea.
Lando was sat in his apartment, head resting against the counter as he cursed his own stupidity, having slid his phone which displayed the blurry mark all the way across the counter to avoid looking at it, simultaneously avoiding the countless messages and calls he was receiving from their PR and HR departments when he heard someone loudly banging on his door.
When he stumbled out of the kitchen to yank open the door, he was met with the sight of his incredibly flustered teammate.
"We need to talk" Oscar spoke almost immediately, pushing Lando further into the apartment, closing the door behind them, Lando went willingly, letting Oscar lead them further into the apartment until they were back in the kitchen.
Oscar ran a hand down his face, before pushing back up and running it through his waves, making it stick all over the place, adding to his frazzled look. "why did you lie about the mark?" he asked, sounding defeated.
Lando felt guilt clog his throat, understanding that from Oscar's perspective, it probably looked like Lando had lied to try and reject him "No I- it just appeared" he stuttered out.
"It just appeared" Oscar repeated, tone so incredibly disbelieving it was almost comical.
Lando nodded furiously, curls bobbing as he shook his head, internally begging Oscar to believe him.
Oscar took a breath "Look, Lando, I get if you wanted to ignore it, I can-" He swallowed, as if the next words pained him "I can ignore them if you want, we can keep going on as we were" he offered a weak smile, as if the very suggestion was killing him inside. Lando wanted to grab him by the jaw and smooth out his expression with his own palms, make sure it never came back.
A part of Lando's heart squeezed at the offer, that Oscar would ignore their connection just to make Lando happy, even if it killed him, the thought constricting his blood flow and sending shocks of pain through his nerves.
"Oscar, please it just appeared I promise" he lifted his arm "I was with Max and it just-" , he gestured his hand around like it would convey the absurdity of the situation.
"Lando" Oscar interrupted, voice sharp "you can keep it secret if you want, but you don't need to lie about it"
Lando was shocked into silence for a moment, mouth opening and closing soundlessly at the harsh words.
"I'm not lying" he was almost desperate now, a pleading tone overtaking his voice.
"Soulmarks don't just appear Lando" Oscar was looking away, like it physically hurt to look at Lando.
"well this one did" Lando argued back, heatedly.
Oscar sat down, heavily "Look, I can understand if you don't want-" he cut himself off "-If you don't want me like that, but please don't do this to me", he begged, voice quiet.
"Oscar-" Lando bit his lip, taking a step towards him, freezing when Oscar flinched away from him. "please" the words came out softly, begging.
He took another step towards Oscar, "I want you like that, wanted you", Oscar was still looking away from him, "I didn't say anything because I thought you had a soulmate" he swallowed "I didn't know it was me" he whispered between them.
Oscar squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip, finally looking up towards Lando, "You really didn't know?" he asked, voice raspy.
Lando shook his head, bringing a hand up to softly cup Oscar's jaw, turning his face fully towards him "no, I didn't" he promised.
Oscar's face cracked open, leaning fulling into Lando's hand, "I thought you didn't-" he cut himself off, taking a breath "Can I see the mark?" he breathed out, voice surer "Please".
Lando looked at him, searching, before nodding stepping back, dropping his hand and quickly shucking off his shirt, turning so the mark was visible to Oscar, clear as day.
He felt Oscar move behind him, hand raising to rest gently on his shoulder, fingers tracing his mark gently. Lando felt warmth radiate outwards from the mark, relaxing every muscle in his body, he let out a sigh, leaning back into Oscar's palm slightly. He basked in the touch for a moment before turning back towards Oscar, who had an awestruck expression on his face.
"Now your turn" Lando raised his eyebrows, tugging at the bottom of Oscar's shirt insistently. Oscar flushed lightly, red blooming under his eyes as he removed his own shirt, dropping it unceremoniously on Lando's kitchen floor, bearing the number on his chest towards Lando.
Lando let out a soft breath, bringing his hand up to trace the number softly, grinning softly at the mark his number was making on Oscar's chest, staking his claim before Lando himself ever could, even against himself. Oscar took in a sharp breath above him. Lando looked up, to find Oscar looking wide eyed down at time, like he could barely believe what was happening, hair still sticking up in all directions from when he'd restlessly run his hand through his waves.
Lando let out a breathless laugh before tangling his own hand in Oscar's hair, using his grip on it to pull his face towards him, his other palm still resting on Oscar's chest fully. He brought their faces together, dutifully swallowing the small noises Oscar was making against him as they kissed, hand trailing back down from his hair down to rest at the nape of his neck, Oscar's own hand coming around to rest on Lando's mark, tracing around his shoulders.
****
Lando woke the next morning with his head on a steadily breathing chest. He opened one eye to see the mark blooming bright on Oscar's chest right in front of where he was laying. He brought a hand up against the mark, covering it with his palm, before promptly falling back asleep.