Chapter Text
Oscar walked into the meeting room.
The room smells distinctly of sweat. Unfortunately, not winners sweat. Even with the sting of his pre-race crash still prominent in his mind, he instantly clocked the slight disappointment in the eyes of his teammate as they locked, having not seen him since before the race. Lando held eye contact, just for a second, and just for a second, Oscar’s mind slipped away from him, away from the crash and shittiness of the day. He shook the feeling off quickly, taking his seat beside Lando.
The meeting passed slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. All Oscar could do was replay the crash in his head. That extra little extra boost he hadn't expected, going over the kerb, the new changes to the car… so many little things. He couldn't help but curse himself for not even making it to the start line. And at his home race too. He blinked the oncoming tears away, trying to focus as Zak discussed the rest of Lando's race, which, though not superb, at least hadn't been over before the lights went out.
As Zak seemed to finish up, saying something about a second meeting later and looking forward to China, Oscar felt a light nudge at his knee. His body seemed to react before his brain could, the sudden touch from Lando sending a little shock through his system. Memories of similar touches from last season rushed back, along with that familiar feeling - the thought that had crossed his mind a few times, when it felt like maybe something more could’ve happened. But it hadn’t, and it wouldn’t, he reminded himself. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to move his leg away, waiting instead until Lando started getting up to leave before following.
As the two drivers retreated to their rooms, the tone of the team as a whole is one of general discontentment.
Oscar, having exhausted his social battery, sat on his phone on the floor. His thoughts were still stuck on the race - or lack thereof.
A soft knock on his door interrupted his doomscrolling trance.
“Yeah,” he said, quietly.
Oscar glanced up at his teammate and tried to hide his shock at a half-naked Lando, clearly fresh out of the shower, standing against the doorway. A white towel is wrapped haphazardly around his waist, exposing a dripping wet torso. Drops of water trailed from his still very damp hair down his tanned arms and shoulders. Oscar forced himself to maintain a straight face and look up, trying desperately to avoid the abs that were inconveniently close to his eye level.
"You know you can get dressed before leaving your room, right?", he mentioned.
"Eh," Lando brushed it off, "no one's around. Plus, I don't think anyone but you would be complaining."
Oscar was far from complaining, but wasn't about to admit to that. There was a short silence; it seemed the strain of the events of last year on their relationship, coupled with the fact that they tended to avoid talking about it to each other, had been carried over into the new season.
“That doesn’t look comfy,” Lando smirked, perhaps in a half-baked attempt to ease the underlying tension that had filled the room. He was very much correct in his assumption - Oscar’s back had been aching for the last ten minutes from being leant awkwardly against the wall.
"Did you need something?" Oscar asked, ignoring the comment on his posture.
"Uh- no, I guess I just..." he trailed off, looking awkward, before slowly stepping into the room, letting the door click shut behind him. The room suddenly felt a lot smaller and stuffier. Oscar inhaled sharply, which was a bad idea, because now he could smell Lando's shampoo. Continuing to force a straight face, he raised his eyebrows at a sheepish-looking Lando.
"What?" he asked.
Lando slowly sat down beside him. A heat seems to fill the air between their shoulders, and Oscar once again felt his eyes slipping down Lando's body, following a water droplet as it trickled from his pecs all the way down to the towel. Lando glanced across at him, either choosing to ignore or failing to notice Oscar's guilty eyes as they shot back up to face level.
"I wanted to say sorry your race ended... well, ended so soon, I guess. Ah shit, I just mean, you know...uh..." Lando bit his lip in fear he'd messed up, an action that was instantly ingrained into the back of Oscar's mind, adding to a growing collection in a box he hadn't yet labelled.
"Yeah, thanks mate."
Lando turned to look at him directly, grimacing as he tried to find the right words.
"I'm sorry. It was shit."
Oscar chuckled lightly, "It was. So shit!"
They grinned at each other. He'd missed Lando's dimples.
"I appreciate you coming to check in," he added, "although I still don't see how it was so urgent you couldn't put clothes on first."
"Fuck you," Lando rolled his eyes. "Here I am, trynna a be a nice guy and this is how you thank m-"
"-yea yea, alright," a pause. Then, quieter and with sincerity, "thank you."
"You're welcome. Let's just see what next week brings, hey?"
"Good idea."