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Lando felt so pathetic.
He had recently seen this one interview with Ethan Hawke, where he was talking on the topic of unrequited love. The words stuck with Lando and he kept rewinding them in his head all day long.
“The one who’s in love always wins. It doesn't matter if you get your heart broken, the sun doesn’t care whether the grass appreciates its rays, right? It just keeps on shining.” Each phrase circled his mind a thousand times, words pounding heavily, imprinting at the subcortex.
Bullshit.
Being the sun was crucifying. Lando was sick and tired of it. He would rather be the grass. If only he could choose that. He cared too much for him to be the sun. He wanted his grass to appreciate his rays. He wanted to shine only for his grass and he wanted to be the one who gives it life. Lord knows how badly he wanted it.
But what could he do when the grass was already enjoying the light of the moon? Sparking back at it, vivid green color mixing with the alluring silver gleam, shining so mesmerizingly in the darkness of the night. What could he do when it felt like the grass was doing just fine without the golden rays?
Lando couldn’t call himself a particularly romantic person and yet as anybody else he desired to be loved.
Love is such a beautiful feeling, so sensual and so powerful. It’s supposed to lend you wings, make you be able to move heaven and earth. It should enlighten your soul, make life feel like a dream come true, walking on the clouds and breathing freely as if light early spring breeze gently brushes your face and the greasy air fills your lungs.
That wasn’t how Lando perceived it. His love was ugly, obnoxious, despicable. It was filled with jealousy, crippling envy eating him alive. He despised himself for it, nausea enveloping him whole. He had lost his appetite long ago and every meal he took was for nutritional purposes. Simply to keep on living which also felt pointless and ridiculous. He was drowning in his own misery.
It wasn’t like the movies, it was far from that. In fact he avoided watching the romance films as they were only further enraging him - the possibility of something like that happening in real life seemed unachievable to Lando. Why did it feel like everybody else in this world had someone for them to need them, to want them, to spoil them with unconditional affection? Why did others get everything while he couldn’t get a single glance, a single smile dedicated solely to him?
Was he not deserving of it? Was he not enough?
He strives to be seen and to be desired. He prays to be shined on with the bright rays of sunshine so he could continue on living. Yet the universe doesn’t seem to work in his favour. As if he’s disowned by it.
Deep down he knows he’s not the problem, he’s not unworthy or not enough. He’s just not the one.
And yet knowing doesn’t change anything.
Knowing doesn't help to numb the emotions, doesn’t help to stop loving. Nor does it prevent him from going to sleep, imagining the touch of the skin he can't ever feel, imagining the way their fingers could align and the way Lando’s palms would be sweating from sweet nervousness and he would have to wipe his hand on his pants every few minutes.
Each night he dreams of being embraced in a tight hug that would spread the pleasant warmth through his body, making him melt into a broad, firm chest, buff arms wrapping around his own body. He swears he can almost smell the trail of chocolate scented deodorant mixed with Oscar’s own.
He dreams because it’s the only thing he can afford. Those few minutes before falling asleep lulled by an euphoric joy that his imagination has graced him with.
All that only to wake up feeling like an idiot. Like a teen whose friends laugh at him behind his back and he accidentally hears it, standing behind the door he was about to enter with the wish to invite them to come over. So pitiful and betrayed. Each morning he shames himself for allowing this hope to take him over, for giving in to this infatuating delusion. And every time he had one question living in his head, spinning, changing its form but the essence always staying the same.
“Why love when it’s all going in vain?”
The answer is yet something for him to figure out but one thing he knew for sure. No matter how painful it was, how pointless it felt pouring his feelings to the closed door, he never regretted it. Not even once. It was his biggest luck and worst misfortune at the same time.
He has so much love within himself and the only person he wishes to give it to couldn’t care any less. Not because he’s a horrible person or insensitive. Not at all. If Lando had to characterize him he’d rather call him the best thing to happen to him. The nicest and most gentle person he’d met.
However as you can’t blame one for burning with love, you can’t blame the other for not reciprocating it. Especially when the person of your interest is already taken.
Maybe it would be easier to get over that fact if Lando wasn’t the one to make it all happen. He set himself up for failure with his own hands.
Well, he had no other choice.
Not when he noticed Oscar stealing glances at Mercedes’ driver. Not when George softened around the Aussie boy, his whole demeanor shifting the second he would find his place next to him. Not with the tension that exploded with shivers running down their spines at accidental bumping of their shoulders while sharing an umbrella.
Maybe love was a pure blessing to one man's heart after all. Just not for him.
He had to help them find their way one to another because he knew what it felt like - wanting and not having.
He experienced it too many times. It’s like Oscar was always so close but somehow always so out of reach. As if when Lando tries stretching his arm out hoping for a chance to grab him, the man disappears before he can even brush his fingertips on his flesh.
So he started inviting Oscar to play padel with him, George and Alex. There might have been some selfish motives to it as Lando got to enjoy the presence of that man. To accidentally tap their feet, to catch the sight of water droplets missing the mouth and sliding down Oscar’s neck. Sometimes he even got to see the muscles on his chest, gleaming from sweat as he took his shirt off and exposed himself to the open air.
And he absolutely wasn’t the only one enjoying the view.
George took the matter in his hands and in no time Lando started to catch them talking more and more, blush flushing on Oscar’s cheeks, crippling down his neck whenever the Mercedes’ driver stood close.
If at first there was remaining a little hope that they would realize they’re not meant for each other or that their personalities are not aligning, then when he caught them kissing behind McLaren garage it was all clear as a day.
Lando would be lying if said he doesn’t think he could treat him better, that he could do it better, do more and give it his all. It’s not like George is not good to him. No. He’s splendid. Perfect boyfriend one could dream of. And he treats Oscar right. In fact Lando has never seen his teammate this delighted, beaming from ear to ear before. George makes him laugh so hard he almost breaks his neck from throwing it back as he cracked up.
But what’s the worst is not the fact he has to witness another man doing what he could only allow himself to dream of. It’s the look in Oscar's eyes. The tender gaze he gives to George and George only. Every time Lando could swear he’s able to see stars forming a milky way in beautiful brown doe eyes. And that is never going to be for him.
No matter how good of a friend Lando is he could never cease the agonizing feeling, twisting and crumpling his guts until it becomes one ball of pain that makes it physically hurt.
Still he never shows it and till this day he had believed he never would. Just a couple months ago he truly wanted to take that secret with him to the grave as his biggest sin.
So strangely he found himself standing in front of the Oscar’s driver room with his palms clenched into fist, one finger pointing out, hesitating to knock.
It was his last day as a Formula 1 pilot, the quintessence of his career in one day. It has been 14 years since Oscar first joined the team and since Lando started to believe in the divine existence. Now he was 37, one championship behind his name, countless wins and podiums and a fortune he managed to accumulate during the length of his career.
Eventually he found the strength within him to leave three short knocks on the door. Oscar opened the door with a bit of a puzzled look on his face, frowning slightly, eyes squinted - the one he used to have when thinking hard about something. He eased at the sight of his teammate and smiled at him brightly.
After all these years he was still as shockingly handsome and charming.
“What’s up mate? He raised his eyebrows in question, awaiting for the reply.
“Wanted to drop by and say a goodbye” Lando rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes glued to the floor, staring through particularly nothing with a wandering gaze.
“You’re scaring me! It’s not like we’re never gonna see each other again!” Oscar chuckled at his own words and tapped his teammate on the shoulder.
“Well, I meant it as sort of a figurative meaning.”, he wavered for a moment before continuing “There’s actually something I’ve wanted to tell you something” His eyes finally reverted back on Oscar’s face as he said that.
“C’mon, crack it” both of his hands were now in the pockets of his shorts, a soft smile lighting up his face.
“Such a usual Oscar.” Lando had thought to himself before stating what he initially came for.
“I love you, Osc” Lando was kind of shocked at his own calmness, the way those three words came out so easily out of his lips.
“S’that what you came for? I love ya too mate” Oscar gave him a thumbs up, then tapped on the side of his arm, as if reassuring him in his words.
“No, you didn’t get it. I love you like George loves you. It’s been 14 years now.” He was firm, a strength that came out of nowhere spread through his body. He was looking his teammate right in the eyes with no fear.
“Oh..” Oscar was back to his puzzled look, and Lando could feel the awkwardness radiating from him. “14 years?! Why are you telling me that now?” The expression on the Aussie’s face has gotten serious, his previous ease has vanished.
“Cause I wanted you to know.” Lando was standing still for a few seconds, then he switched his gaze somewhere to the left, observing the paddock’s lively space through huge windows of the McLaren team hub. People were traversing through the paddock, the lucky ones were taking selfies with the drivers that still haven’t left after the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. He returned his attention to Oscar and added. “Cause I wanted you to know. Nothing else.”
As he said that he slightly bumped his fist into Oscar’s chest, then turned and left without another word, leaving his now ex teammate to his own thoughts.