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It’s a month long break due to two races being cancelled, which of course meant a LOT of interviews and other PR stuff. If you asked any driver are they excited for it, they would say ‘no’ in a second, but when it’s team event, Oscar couldn’t be happier to hang out with Lando. They were told they’re doing Buzzfeed’s Jenga Truth or Dare Challenge with another team, but not which one, which drove Oscar crazy. He likes to know everything in time, ok?
It hasn’t even been a second he walked through the doors when he heard him.
“Oscahhh” Lando was walking towards him.
“Landitooo” he replied and hugged Lando. Lando’s hands went over and Oscar’s around Lando’s waist, as they usually do.
“How are you man, did you manage to get any rest?” Lando broke the hug and asked him, hand still around Oscar’s shoulders as they walked to the studio.
“Yeah, yeah, could use a few days more tho, you?”
“Me too, but at least I get to see you.” Lando replied with his usual amout of flirtiness, which Oscar finds completely normal and has never questioned it. “So, did they tell you who are we doing this with?”
“No,” Oscar replied with a pout. “I hoped you would know.”
“No idea, I thought it was Ferrari cause I saw Charles, but then I saw Totto and Max talking, so it could be any of the three. Wanna bet on who were getting?” Lando asked with a smirk and jugged his elbow into Oscar’s side.
“I hope not Mercedes…” Not because he didn’t like Russel or Antonelli , per se, they were quite close, but when it comes to competing, George can be unsufferable. “You know how George is.” Oscar snorted a laugh.
“I’m hoping Ferrari, those two are a treat in these games. So on what we betting?” Lando leaned on the wall in front of Oscar as they stopped in front of the studio.
Oscar had no idea what to bet on. “Uhhh, I don't know, who wins gets to try the new cars first?”
“You’re so boring Osc… How about we bet on a favor and save it for when needed?” Lando looked up at Oscar with his big baby eyes. Oscar has no idea what is he on or why he needed a favor, but all in all had accepted Landos’s propasal. “Ok, sure.”
Just as he said it, the studio doors opened. “Lando, Oscar, could you join us now?” a woman, who Oscar assumed was the host, called them in.
Lando stepped in first.
“Fuck.” was all Lando said. Oscar had no idea why until he heard Kimi's laugh. Yes, he won. He had no idea what was he gonna do with the favor, but still smirked at Lando who had just looked at him, sad-eyed. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a rematch soon enough.”
“Yoo, it’s McLarenn!” Kimi yelled, happily punching George’s shoulder.
They all said their hellos and dabbed each other up. They would have started chatting more but the same woman from before called them out. “Hey guys, could we start filming, we don’t have much time.” In front of them was a big Jenga tower. “Kimi, you go first and then Oscar, George and Lando.”
Lando snorted, but kept professional.
Kimi easily pulled out a block. “Ah truth. Who has the biggest ego on the grid?” He read it out and in a second all three of them looked at George and bursted out of laughter.
“Okay, okay, yes, I’m the diva.” George laughed it off in his way.
Next was Oscar. He pulled out another truth and it simply said “Red Bull or Ferrari?”
“Uhh, can I skip this one?” Oscar asked with a laugh.
“Oh, come on, mate, you HAVE to answer.” George grinned like he smelled blood.
Oscar rolled his eyes, knowing there was no good answer for this, he was gonna get dragged either way. “Fine. Ferrari. Purely for the vibes.” He said quickly glancing at Lando who smiled. Kimi cheered. George pretended to be offended.
“You’re such a sellout.” George said. “Anyways, I’m next.” He was already a hand on Jenga block. He pulled a block with far too much confidence and the whole tower wobbled, but stayed in place. He quickly whispered ‘Oh, thank God’ and read out. “Dare. Text the last person you argued with and say ‘you were right.’” George groaned while other three were laughing their asses off. He pulled out his phone and typed. “This is humiliating.”
Ding.
A phone buzzed off the camera and everybody looked. It was Totto’s phone. He just showed a thumbs up to George with a smile. Kimi on the other hand was on the floor laughing his ass off. “Oh, this is gold.”
It took a minute to get back to normal, but then it was Lando’s turn. He stepped up, cracking his knuckles like it was the most important race to win. He slid out a block cleanly, no wobble, no hesitation.
Show-off. Oscar thought as he snorted a laugh.
“Dare, oh!” Lando was at a loss of words.
“What does it say??” Oscar tried to see what it says but Lando was quicker.
The host waved with what it seemed like an orange t-shirt and called Lando with her. The other three were confued for a while until Lando came back wearing a crop top.
Kimi lost it right away. George tried to hold it in but failed miserably. “Oh my god, this is the best day of my life.”
Oscar, well Oscar's brain short-circuited. Because Lando looked… well ridiculous… but also, not ridiculous at all.
The crop top was simple, orange, of course, in the McLaren colors, slightly fitted. It sat right above his waist, showing a strip of skin that Oscar absolutely did NOT stare at.
Except he did.
A lot.
“Okay, so what are we thinking?” Lando asked, swirling once like he was on a runway.
Kimi and George tried to say something but were too busy trying to get some air from laughing and then laughing once again.
Oscar opened his mouth. Closed it. Then, very intelligently, said, “It’s.. uh. Practical.”
Lando stared at him for a second, rising his eyebrow. “Practical?”
There was silence for a moment, even Kimi and George calmed down, looking at Oscar as confused as ever.
“For… aerodynamics.” Oscar nodded like that made sense.
“Okay,nerd.” Lando snorted, while Kimi and George burst out of laughter once again.
Lando got closer to Oscar and whispered in his ear. ‘If you say so.’
Oscar didn’t like that tone, or that smirk on Lando’s face. Just as he was about to make a sassy comeback, the host interrupted for Kimi to continue the game.
The game did continue, but Oscar was no longer fully present because Lando kept moving. Reaching up to place the block on top. Stretching. Laughing. And everytime he did that, the crop top shifted around, revealing a little more, and Oscar’s brain kept catching on it like a song on repeat.
What is wrong with me? He’d seen Lando shirtless a hundred times. It was normal, nothing that would send his brain into jumping jacks like this. This was not normal, this was distracting. This was--
“Oi, Osc!” Lando’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You’re up.”
Right. Jenga. Game. People watching. He stepped forward, painfully aware of Lando standing way too close next to him. He pulled a block. Dare… Well, of course.
“Come on, read it.” George hurried.
“...No.”
“Why do you try to avoid it every time? You HAVE to do it.”
Oscar exhaled through his nose. “Fine. Let someone here style your hair however they want for the rest of the game.” He hated people touching his hair.
Kimi’s hand shot up.
“No.” Oscar said immediately looking for Lando to help him get out of that.
“Too late!” Lando laughed. “He was first.”
Five minutes later, Oscar sat there with what could only be described as a chaotic masterpiece. Half slicked back, half sticking up at odd angles because Kimi insisted it was ‘modern art’.
“Looks good.” Lando said, winking at Oscar, same tone as the whisper… as if he wasn’t really talking about the hair.
Oscar did not want to open that door. “Next.” He said really quickly and got a raised eyebrow from George, whose turn just was.
A few more rounds passed. George got dared to swap jackets with Lando (which looked ridiculous paired with the crop top, cause even to Oscar, who wasn’t much into fashion, that orange and Mercedes blue do NOT go together), Kimi had to do a dramatic monologue about racing using only his hands, which wasn’t hard for him, as he was truly Italian.
The tower grew more and more unstable until finally… George pulled a block. It shifted. Wobbled. And then collapsed entirely.
“Oh, you’re joking.” George groaned and was handed a card that read Final Dare.
He groaned once again. They urged him to read it out loud.
“I have to… post a selfie with everyone here and caption it ‘besties forever’.”
Lando already grabed George's phone and handed it to Oscar to take a selfie. As he usually does. Oscar just shook his head, smiling.
They crowded together, George looking deeply pained while others leaned in, grinning. Lando stayed next to Oscar, accidentally or purposely, leaned in just enough for Oscar’s relaxed hand touch that little strip of skin he spent watching in the corrner of his eyes. It made his heart beat a little faster and blush crept up his cheeks. He shook it off, putting his hand in his pocket and took the photo.
Click.
“Perfect.” Lando took the phone as soon as the pic was made, typing the caption and posting it. “You look cute when you blush.” He whispered to Oscar quickly, as it was a passing comment. Oscar had no time to respond. Or to even think.
“Alright, that’s a wrap.” the host announced. “Thank you everyone.” The cameras shut off and they were free to go. Kimi and George got pulled aside almost instantly by someone from their team, still laughing about the game. Which left Oscar and Lando. Alone.
Lando stretched his arms up, completely unaware or maybe VERY aware of what it does to Oscar. “God finally. That was--” He grabbed the hem of the top to take it off.
Oscar’s brain short-circuited. For a hundreth time. But time because Lando’s about to take it off. And for some reason, well for a reason he didn’t want to admit, that felt wrong.
“Wait.” It came out before Oscar could stop it.
Lando stopped, hands still holding the fabric and looked at him. “Yeah?”
Oscar hesitated. It was stupid. Why would he use a favor on Lando wearing a crop top when he could use it on something more profoud.
“Uh so, the bet.You said a winner gets a favor.”
“Oh, yeah.” Lando said slowly, lowering his hands but not dropping them completely. “You did win.”
Oscar nodded, suddenly very aware of how close they were standing. Did he come closer or did Lando?
Lando tilted his head. “So?”
Oscar swallowed. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, which was… well new. “Can you..” he started, then stopped, “it’s stupid.”
“And when has that stopped you?” Lando sassily said.
Oscar let out a snort, then, looking up, just enough to see the top but not quite to look in Lando’s eyes. “Can you… keep it on. For a bit longer.”
Silence.
Lando didn’t speak immediately and somehow that made it worse. Oscar was just about to take it back, pretend that it was a joke.
“Yeah, I could do that.” Oscar looked up at Lando who was smirking. “For how long?” He asked as he placed his hands on his hips. Oscar followed the movement.
“I don’t know.” Oscar said as he looked back up at Lando, feeling the tension rising.
“Then I’ll keep it on until you say otherwise.” Lando said as they were called away by their team.
The thing is, Oscar thought it would just be for a bit. Maybe an hour. Maybe just until the next interview. Not the entire day.
But Lando… Well, Lando COMMITTED.
It started sublte. They left the Buzzfeed set after a few talks and shows, and Lando, instead of putting his hoodie on, he threw it over his shoulder.
“Mate,” Oscar said as they were walking out, trying very hard to look literally anywhere else, “you could have taken it off by now.”
Lando glanced at him, all innocent. “Why? You didn’t say I could.”
Oscar blinked. “I… what?”
“You said ‘For a bit longer’,” Lando shrugged. “This is longer.”
“That’s not… what I meant.”
“You sure about that?” There was that damn tone again which Oscar didn’t like… well maybe it was quite the opposite, but those doors are staying closed too. On the other hand, Lando knew EXACTLY what he was doing. Oscar looked away. Immendiately. Which made Lando smirk, not that Oscar saw. He felt it forming on Lando’s face.
Next stop was the paddock, but by that time, it had escalated. Lando was no more just wearing it… he was SHOWING OFF. Leaning back in chairs with his arms behing his head. Stretching like he has never stretched before in his life. Casually walking past Oscar just a bit too close. And every single time, without an exception, Oscar’s brain short-circuited.
It only got worse when George showed up. Because of course he did. He took one look at Lando, paused, then looked at Oscar. Then back at Lando.
“...Why are you still wearing that?” he asked.
Lando opened his mouth but Oscar beat him to it. “It’s, uh, brand commitment.”
George blinked. “Brand commitment?”
“Yeah,” Oscar said full of confidence, “media, engagement, not that you would understand.”
“...It’s a random crop top.” George said flatly.
“Exactly,” Oscar continued, digging his grave even deeper, “unexpected marketing strategy.”
Lando just stood there, looking at Oscar wide eyed. George slowly crossed his arms and looked at Lando. Then back at Oscar. And something… clicked.
“Oh..” he said. Oscar felt immediate dread.
“This is a thing.” George pointed his finger between the two of them and grinned.
“It’s not a thing.” Oscar said instantly.
“Mhm.”
“It’s literally not a thing.”
“Right… So you’re not the reason he’s still wearing it?”
Oscar opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then looked at Lando for help.
George figured he wouldn’t get the answer from him, so he also looked at Lando. “So, you’re still wearing it because…?”
Lando’s eyes darted to Oscar, and then back to George. “Uh, favor.”
George’s grin widened. “Oh my God.”
“It’s not-” what you think, Oscar started. Turns out, it was exactly what he was thinking.
“You two are unbeliveable…” George laughed. “Just shag already, it would save everyone a lot of time.”
Oscar choked. “We are not-”
“Relax, I’m not judging.” George waved him off. “I’m just saying, the tension is painful to watch.”
“There is no tension.”
Lando made a a noise. “I don’t know, I think there’s a bit.”
Ah shit, he's still here. Oscar turned to him. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying to.” Lando smirked.
George clapped Oscar’s shoulder. “Good luck with that, mate,” he said, already walking off, “you’re going to need it.”
Oscar stood there, staring after him. “… He’s an idiot.”
“Sure.” Lando laughed. Oscar turned to him.
“...You’re still wearing it.” Oscar stated.
“Yeah.” Lando softly said and shrugged his shoulders.
Oscar’s stomach did something weird, not that he’s paying attention to that.
By the time evening rolled around, Oscar had not recovered. Not once. Not even slighly. And Lando… well, Lando had not taken it off. He did put on a hoodie fully at some point because it really became too chilly for just a t-shirt. Oscar did not like that one bit, but he remained silent because why would he want Lando to freeze in a crop top.
The hotel room was quiet when they got back. Noise gone. Just two of them.
Oscar dropped his bag, exhaling. “Long day.”
“Mhm.” Lando agreed, his voice muffled.
Oscar turned around. And there he was. Hoodie off, crop top still on. Of course it was. Something about that, about the fact he’d actually kept it on the whole day, made Oscar pause.
“Why are you still wearing it?” he asked, quieter now.
Lando leander against the wall, arms crossed, casually. “Didn’t get the permission to take it off.”
Oscar huffed a laugh. “That’s not how it works.”
“Isn’t it?” Lando tilted his head. There was that look again. The one that made Oscar feel like he’s about to combust into flames.
“You could have taken it off ages ago.” Oscar tried.
“Could have,” Lando nodded, “but you didn’t tell me to.”
The air become heavier.
“If I say to take it off now,” Oscar said slowly, “will you?”
Lando smiled, just a little. “Do you want me to take it off?”
Oscar hesitated, because the answer… the answer was very clear. “.…no.” he admitted quietly.
“Thought so.” Lando’s smiled has turned into a smirk. He then pushed himself off the wall , stepping closer. Oscar’s breath hitched slightly, but he didn’t move. Didn’t step back. Just followed Lando with his gaze.
“You have been staring all day, you know?” Lando murmured.
“I have not.”
“Mhm…” Lando looked at him with those big eyes.
Oscar huffed. “You make it very hard not to.”
“Good.”
That did not help.
At all.
They were very close now. Close enough that Oscar could feel the heat off Lando’s skin. Close enough that he could grab him and rush him back to the wall he came from, only now with both of them on it. But he did not. Not yet.
“You’re impossible.” Oscar inhaled.
“And you’re shy.” Lando replied.
“I’m not--”
“You are.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.” Lando’s smirk appeared once again, challenging Oscar. And if there’s something that gets Oscar pumping, it’s a challenge. Not that it has anything to do with Lando challenging him. Definitelly not.
Oscar grabbed a hand full of Lando’s god forsaken crop top, that he spent whole damn day drooling over, and pushed Lando back, step by step, to the wall. His other hand ended up on the wall right over Lando’s head. He takes a moment to look every inch of Lando, his hand slowly releasing the grip on the crop top and fixing it right back up, smoothly over Lando’s chest. Mesmerised.
Suddenly he stepped back. Lando’s displeasure was heard from miles away. Oscar just stared at him, once again taking in the picture of Lando. Trying to figure out his next sane or insane move.
“Now this is just plain rude.” Lando whined and was just about to step towards Oscar.
“Stay.” Oscar pointed his finger, nowhere in particular, his voice going three octaves deeper.
Lando stood frozen. He looked into Oscar’s eyes,which are now black and shiny with determination.
Oscar’s mind, on the other hand, was malfunctioning. He had no idea what to do from here, he just knew that he doesn’t want it to stop. Which meant he had to do something before Lando gets pissed and walks off. “Okay.” Oscar said softly and looked straight into Lando’s eyes. He was already staring at him. Oscar took a step closer, heart pounding in his chest and the whole room around spinning. Only constant was Lando. His Lando.
Oh.
Oscar smiled. He took the last step and stood in front of Lando, this time grabbing his chin. He looked down at Lando’s lips, then back at his eyes, then back at his lips.
“Jesus Christ, Oscar.” Lando stated a second before he crashed his lips onto Oscar’s.
It was like winning every damn grand Prix. Hell, even better.
