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Oscar noticed something the first time in passing. Something small enough that anyone else might’ve brushed it off as nerves, or just another rookie overwhelmed by his first full season in the paddock. But Oscar had never been very good at not noticing things, especially when they involved Lando.
It all started on a Friday.
The paddock was still settling into its usual rhythm, with team members moving with quiet urgency, cameras not yet fully swarming, and the air carrying that strange mix of people’s anticipation and nervousness. Oscar had been mid-conversation with one of Mclaren’s engineers when he saw Lando out of the corner of his eye, standing outside the garrage, and laughing at something brightly.
And then there was someone else beside him. The new driver, Arvid, a name people had been anticipating ever since his announcement as one of the newest additions to the Formula 1 grid. Oscar had been aware of him long before this weekend, of course. Afterall, it was hard not to be when the buzz had followed Arvid from the moment his seat was confirmed, but seeing him there now, standing just a little too close to Lando with that wide-eyed focus, made the recognition settle into something sharper, and more specific.
Oscar didn’t think much of it at first. While rookies usually gravitated toward Max, drawn in by his presence as if it were something inevitable, Lando was just as easily approached in a different way. Softer, more inviting. He was warm where others were typically guarded, effortlessly kind even on days where everything else seemed to be slipping through his fingers.
But then Oscar noticed the way Arvid stood, just a fraction too close to be written off as coincidence, his attention fixed on Lando with an intensity that lingered a beat too long. It wasn’t anything obvious on its own, nothing that would draw a second glance from anyone else, and yet the longer Oscar watched, the more it felt like everything else around them had softened into the background, as if Arvid’s focus had narrowed until Lando was the only thing left in it.
Oscar’s attention drifted, his conversation dissolving into background noise as he watched Arvid nod along a beat too eagerly, his smile lingering just a second too long after Lando had already looked away. And when Lando said something else, Arvid ducked his head, shoulders curling in just slightly, a faint blush visible even from a distance.
Ah.
Oscar felt something twist low in his chest, subtle but sharp enough to register.
He’d seen that before.
It didn’t stop there. If anything, it got worse, or more obvious, depending on how one chose to look at it.
By Saturday, it had become a pattern. Arvid always seemed to appear near Lando, as if pulled in by some invisible force. In the paddock, he’d hover just long enough to strike up a conversation. During media obligations, he’d somehow end up within earshot. Even in the drivers’ parade, surrounded by noise and chaos and fans screaming from every direction, Oscar caught sight of Arvid leaning just a little closer toward Lando again, listening like every word mattered.
Lando, for his part, seemed completely unaware, moving through each interaction with the same easy warmth he always carried, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. And that, frankly, was exactly the problem.
He smiled easily, laughed just as freely, and treated Arvid the same way he treated everyone else. With open warmth, with genuine interest. He asked questions, he listened, he responded in that soft, attentive way that made people feel seen.
Oscar felt a familiar tightness in his chest as he watched, because it was exactly the same way Lando had treated him when he first joined McLaren, fresh off the grid and still learning the ropes. Back then, Lando had been patient and kind, guiding him through the everything, explaining team routines, and somehow making every little detail of the chaos feel manageable. It had drawn him in without him even realizing it, a quiet pull that had been impossible to resist. And now, seeing Arvid on the receiving end of that same attention, Oscar couldn’t help but remember just how it had felt to be the rookie, the one discovering that warmth for the very first time.
Oscar swallowed, his jaw tightening just slightly as the realization settled more firmly into place. Because Arvid wasn’t subtle, at least not to him. Not when Oscar had once been exactly the same. It was like seeing his own reflection from back then. Being awkward, eager, and completely undone by the person he admired most.
It all came back to him in fragments, uninvited but vivid. Watching Lando from a distance, even before they were teammates, memorizing the way he carried himself, the cadence of his speech in interviews, the way his smile never quite matched the pressure he was under. Oscar had even been active on social media back then, tweeting little observations, sharing posts just to catch Lando’s attention, posting about him in ways that were subtle enough to seem casual but never really were. Every notification, every like or reply that hinted Lando had seen, had sent his chest tightening in ways he could barely admit to himself.
He found excuses, thin and often obvious, to linger in conversations just a little longer than necessary, every word a carefully measured chance to stay near Lando. With each glance and every fleeting moment where Lando’s attention settled on him, there came a quiet, almost embarrassing rush of warmth that made his chest tighten and his thoughts scatter in the most infuriatingly delightful way.
Oscar had been better at hiding it, or at least he liked to think he had. But the feeling of an unmistakable pull toward someone who seemed just out of reach, was something he recognized instantly. And Arvid? Arvid wasn’t hiding it at all.
By Sunday morning, it was starting to grate at him. Not because Arvid was doing anything wrong. Oscar knew that, logically. The kid wasn’t crossing lines, wasn’t even being inappropriate. He was just there. Consistently. Very persistently.
Oscar exhaled slowly, leaning back against the cool surface of the garage wall as he watched them again. Lando was mid-sentence, hands moving naturally as he spoke, and Arvid stayed just a step behind, his eyes fixed on Lando with that same intense focus, drinking in every detail as if simply being near him was enough.
There was a flicker of something unpleasant in Oscar’s chest. Jealousy, he realized. Not the loud, explosive kind. It was nothing dramatic or irrational, rather, it was quieter than that, more controlled, but no less real. It sat heavy under his ribs, coiled tight and stubborn.
The thing was, Lando was his. No, not publicly (yet). Not in any way the world could (yet to) see, but in the quiet moments, in the in-betweens, in the small spaces no one else noticed, he was entirely, and unmistakably Oscar’s. And yet, watching someone else look at him like that, so openly, and so eagerly, made something in Oscar’s chest stir till it was agonizingly hard to ignore. He felt a coil of possessiveness and awareness that reminded him just how much he already had and how keenly he hated the idea of sharing even the smallest piece of it.
“You’re staring.”
Lando’s voice cut through Oscar’s thoughts, soft but firm, close enough that he hadn’t even realized Lando had moved up beside him. In that brief moment of distraction, he’d completely missed Lando sending Arvid off with a quick, and a casual tap on the back. By the time Oscar’s attention returned, Arvid was already stepping away, leaving Lando standing there, his gaze settling fully on Oscar in a way that made it impossible to look anywhere else.
Oscar blinked, straightening slightly. “I’m not.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but there was a hint of amusement tugging at his mouth. “Right. And I suppose you just happen to be looking in that exact direction for no reason?”
Oscar hesitated, then let out a quiet breath. There wasn’t much point in denying it, at least not to Lando.
“…He likes you,” Oscar said finally, his tone firm but soft. Lando frowned slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. “Who?” “Arvid,” Oscar clarified. “Arvid?” Lando repeated, frowning just a bit. Oscar nodded.
Lando huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. “He’s just being friendly.” “No,” Oscar replied, more certain this time. “He’s not.”
There was a pause.
Lando looked back at him, and something in Oscar’s expression must have given him away because the amusement in Lando’s face faded, and was replaced by something gentler. More understanding.
“Oh,” Lando said quietly.
Oscar looked away first, jaw tightening slightly. “I used to do the same thing.” This statement of his earned him a moment of silence.
And then, Lando smiled. Not the type of easy, and effortless version of a smile that he gave to everyone else. This one was softer, and warmer, the one he shared only with Oscar in the privacy of their own.
“Yeah,” Lando said, stepping just a little closer, his voice soft. “You did.” Oscar huffed out a quiet breath, something in his chest easing despite himself. “It’s obvious... he’s obvious.”
“It was obvious then, too,” Lando pointed out lightly. Oscar glanced at him. “You didn’t say anything.” “I didn’t need to,” Lando said, his smile turning just slightly fond. “You figured it out eventually.”
Oscar held his gaze for a moment, the lingering tension in his chest loosening, unraveling in a way that felt almost reluctant. Because this, this was real. Not the way Arvid looked at Lando from a distance, not the quiet admiration or the soft blushes or the barely hidden crush.
This was something steadier, something anchored, built on a familiarity and trust that had been earned over time, not just felt in passing. Something already chosen, a quiet certainty that didn’t waver with fleeting attention or new admirers, and a bond that existed in the spaces no one else could touch.
Lando nudged his shoulder gently. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, you know.” Oscar exhaled, the last of that tightness slipping away as he nodded once. “I know.”
And he did. But even so—
Later, when Arvid approached again, all bright-eyed and just a little flustered, Oscar didn’t miss the way Lando’s hand brushed briefly against his own as he passed. It was quick, and subtle, but done in a way that was deliberate. This gave Oscar a quiet reassurance, one that was hidden in plain sight.
This time, when Oscar looked at Arvid, the feeling of jealousy was gone. And instead, replaced by a quiet, and knowing sort of understanding. He recognized the eagerness, and the admiration. Because again, he had been there before, but unlike Arvid, he had already won. Lando was his, and that certainty let him watch without worry, without fear, and with a faint, almost amused acknowledgment of the rookie’s obvious crush.
+ BONUS !!!
Arvid had always thought he was subtle. Really. He tried to act casual, but apparently “glued to Lando like a shadow” was not exactly inconspicuous. He laughed a little too easily at Lando’s jokes, leaned in (unconsciously) a fraction too close during conversations, and, well, hung on every single word.
And really, could you blame him? Lando had been one of the biggest reasons he’d gotten into racing in the first place. Back in 2021, fourteen years old and wide-eyed, Arvid remembers cornering Lando—courtesy of his friend daring him to approach the latter—and saying, “Remember me. I’ll see you in five years.” Everyone had laughed at the time, but Arvid had kept that promise, letting it drive him all these years. Carrying it into every practice, every race, every passing glance that somehow brought him closer to this moment.
“Oi, Arvid,” Liam called from across the garage, smirking like he knew exactly what was going on. “You planning to follow him home too, or is this just paddock-wide fangirling?”
Arvid froze, cheeks burning. “C’mon mate! It’s just… he’s fun to talk to!” “Fun,” Liam said slowly. “Yeah and you’ve been staring way too much. Chill, mate. He’s not going anywhere... unless someone else already has him on their palm.”
Arvid’s stomach flipped. Someone else? Who else?
Then he saw it. Saw him, Oscar. The Australian was standing a little off to the side, arms crossed, and eyes locked on him. Arvid could have sworn that he wasn’t imaging how the other is clenching his jaw. All of this and he wasn’t being casual at all, as if he is not even trying to hide it. His gaze was measuring, and he could even sense the protectiveness and possessiveness lacing it.
“Oh,” Arvid whispered to himself. “Right. 'oh'.” Liam said, grinning. “Seems like Oscar’s already got him. Rookie, you’re officially trespassing.” Liam’s comments made Arvid burry his face in his hands, a helpless laugh escaping him. Everything clicked. Lando was taken (or at least it seems like it), and Oscar was very clearly serious about it. It was funny, humiliating, and terrifying at the same time. But mostly… funny.
Arvid groaned. “Oh no. Ohhh no. I am so, so dead. Like, career-ruining dead.” Liam doubled over laughing. “Welcome to F1, mate. You’ve just been officially outclassed by a possessive teammate and a ridiculously charming driver. Good luck.”
Arvid flopped onto a nearby crate, muttering, “I didn’t sign up for this… Why did no one warn me about this?” Liam waved him off, still chuckling. “That’s racing for you, rookie. Some drivers go fast, some steal hearts… and apparently, you’re in the wrong lane.” Arvid buried his face again, hoping the ground would swallow him whole, but secretly, he couldn’t help laughing along.