Work Text:
I’ll make a 20 dollar bet Oscar won’t get his championship back
The Las Vegas Grand Prix was shit.
Everyone in McLaren would agree, it had lost them vital points in the drivers championship but Lando had more reasons than anyone to forever hate that night.
After everything died down and the paddock started to clear, Oscar had pulled Lando into his driver's room telling him they needed to talk.
Lando had willingly agreed. He loved talking to Oscar, and that’s all he wanted after an awful day.
His willingness soon disappeared when he turned to see Oscar’s face.
His eyes were flitting all over the room, never landing on Lando and he was fidgeting with his hands. Just as Lando was about to ask what was wrong, Oscar spoke.
“I think we should take a break,” he blurted out.
What? He had no idea what Oscar meant.
“What are you on about, Osc? We’re fighting for the championship. I don't think we can take a break right now,” Lando said in confusion. It made no sense. Why would he suggest a break?
“No, Lando, like, a break from each other,”
Lando's face dropped as he understood, but before he could respond Oscar continued rambling on.
“It’s not forever. Just until after the championship fight. I don’t want us to do or say anything stupid and ruin our relationship. I love you and I don’t want anything to change that, so if we just keep to ourselves a bit - just until it’s all over - then we can know we’ll be okay.”
Lando couldn’t focus on any of it. All he could hear was that Oscar thinks he will do something stupid, because Oscar thinks that Lando is stupid and Oscar thinks that Lando would risk their relationship for the championship.
Obviously he wants it - he wants it so, so badly. It’s the entire grid's childhood dream to become a world champion, but he would never let that ruin him and Oscar. When Lando saw what happened with Nico and Lewis, he vowed to never recreate that.
He realised he had stayed silent for way too long when Oscar stopped and actually looked at him. How was that the first time since the conversation started?
Lando knew Oscar was expecting an answer, but Lando couldn’t give him one. He just nodded and mumbled a short goodbye before leaving, not bothering to shut the door behind him.
Lando had promised to go out with George and Alex.
He really wished he hadn’t, but he couldn’t curse out Past-Lando too much - he hadn’t expected to be in such a bad mood.
At least there was the possibility he could get drunk tonight and forget the events of the day. The event. He knew Jon wouldn’t approve but… who said he had to know?
Also, the two most important parts of his life had gone terribly wrong, so really he deserved to forget about it. Even if it was only for a few hours.
But of course that was too much to ask for.
The moment he sat down George’s expression shifted.
“What’s wrong?” George asked.
How did he know? Lando had put on his brightest smile (the one he always used for the media). The one that no one ever realised was fake.
“Who says there’s something wrong?” Lando shot back, his tone sharp.
“Your face - and now your voice, actually. So what’s wrong?” George lifted his chin definitely, the way he always did when he knew he was right.
Fucking great. Lando’s fake ass fucking smile hadn’t worked.
He might as well tell them, then.
“Fucking Oscar. He wants us to take a break. He thinks I’m going to say something stupid and ruin our relationship forever or whatever. Just because we’re fighting for the championship doesn’t mean I’ll do that. It’s so annoying and stupid.” Lando took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before the anger really got to him. “You know what? I bet-” Lando paused for a moment to search around for any money he had on him. Once he pulled out a note, he continued “- that Oscar will not win the World Driver’s Championship.”
Lando put the $20 note on the table and smirked up at George and Alex.
It was stupid. He knows that now, he even knew it then, but he was pissed off at everything. It was easiest to take his anger out on this, so that’s what he did.
George and Alex accepted the bet, with only minimal concerned looks at Lando, but they did place their own bets.
The bickered over who would take the three notes home, an ongoing argument over who’s the most responsible (it’s definitely George, but Alex and Lando would never admit to that) until George swept up the notes, tucking them into his pocket and declaring he was sick ‘sick of their bullshit and going to bed’.
Who the notes would go to would be decided soon.
I took it an hour ago
Finally, Lando had achieved his dream.
The dream he had had since he first stepped foot in a rental go-kart at seven years old.
Lando fucking Norris was the World Driver’s Champion.
Bright lights shone from all directions, crowds cheering and screaming everywhere he looked and he could see all his family and friends.
And he had done it.
Tears were falling from his eyes and his mouth already hurt from smiling, but he wasn’t going to stop. He couldn’t stop.
He searched everywhere for Oscar.
Lando knew he wasn’t going to see Oscar for another hour or so. He had to do media and he would want to get changed, but he had hoped to see him after the podium to congratulate Oscar and finally kiss him again.
Las Vegas already felt like years ago, and Lando missed his boyfriend more than anything in the world.
After a few minutes of searching the McLaren hospitality, Lando accepted the fact he wouldn’t find Oscar until later, and started to celebrate with everyone else because he deserved this. He had tried so hard for so long, all of his effort and power going into this one thing, and now he could finally enjoy it.
After an hour he decided to actually go and find Oscar.
He didn’t care that Oscar would be disappointed, he just wanted to see his face. Lando didn’t need to talk about anything other than how much he loves him.
He doesn’t need to talk to him about the fact he won; he would rather not remind Oscar that he lost. He just needs to be with him and kiss him right now, because tonight feels like a dream and the only thing to make it better would be Oscar.
In the middle of Lando’s great Oscar hunt, George walked over to him with 60 dollars bundled in his hand.
“You won the bet,” George said simply. “Oscar didn’t win,”
Oh. Lando forgot about that.
He regretted it. He made that bet when he was angry about the disqualification and bitter over Oscar suggesting a break. It was a stupid bet and it was unfair of him to do that to Oscar.
But Lando didn’t know that he would regret it even more.
He didn’t see Oscar walking towards him, a present held against his chest - all his intentions pure and kind: to congratulate Lando.
He didn’t watch as Oscar’s face fell hearing the words coming from George’s mouth.
And he didn’t hear the smashing of glass as the photo frame that had been clutched in Oscar’s hands hit the floor.
He’s cryin’ in the paddock
It took Lando another hour to find Oscar.
He was stopped by people at every turn congratulating him and, well, who is he to stop them?
The paddock was still full of noise and chaos but it was slowly starting to calm down as the night went on.
The bright lights surrounding them twinkled in the dark and Lando couldn’t help but admire the smooth yellow-white projected from them. Everything felt so beautiful. That night felt perfect.
He spotted Oscar sitting on some stairs and he started to run.
He was so excited. He could finally talk to his perfect Oscar as the world champion.
As he closed the distance, he noticed something wrong with Oscar. His arms were resting on his legs, his head placed in his hands and his entire body was shaking, curled around himself, like he was trying to disappear.
What was happening?
“Osc…” he called and Oscar lifted his head out of his hands.
Lando's heart shattered.
Oscar’s eyes were puffed and red, tear tracks running down his face. Each drop of saltwater staining his face was glistening from the small lights above him.
“Oscar, what happened?” Lando asked, gently crouching down in front of him.
“Fuck off,” Oscar’s voice was loud, much louder than Lando had ever heard it before. Lando jumped up in surprise. He hadn’t expected that from Oscar. Even when he was angry, Oscar preferred to deal with it calmly, he almost never shouted.
Lando didn’t even know how to respond, so he stayed quiet. Oscar’s eyes welled up with tears again, before he spoke.
“What are you even doing? I can’t believe you! You- you-” Oscar shouted, face still gleaming with tears.
“What is it? What did I do?”
“You fucking bet on me not winning!”
Oh.
He heard that. Lando scrambled for words, trying to form a sentence to express his sorrow and how he hadn’t even meant to bet on anything.
“I promise it’s not that bad, Osc, I was just in a bad mood and I wasn’t thinking straight so I just-”
“It is that bad. I have tried so fucking hard to win this. I don’t even fucking care that I haven’t - shit went wrong and I lost. I can’t change that.
“But my own boyfriend bet on my downfall. You didn’t even bet that you would win, you bet that I would lose. Would you have still got the money if Max won?” Oscar snarled, the speech throwing itself out his mouth. Lando had never seen Oscar so angry. Tears were streaming down his face as he yelled. His hands were wildly moving, cutting shapes in the air and all Lando could do was stand and stare, guilt basically dripping off him.
“I, well, I… um…’ Lando didn’t know what to say.
Because, of course, Oscar was right. Lando had bet on his downfall.
“Right. I can’t believe you, Lando. Why? Why would you do this to me?” Oscar’s voice was quieter now, not a shout, barely even a whisper.
“I’m sorry.” Lando glanced down at his feet, shifting slightly. “I was annoyed. You wanted a break because you thought I would do something stupid and ruin everything between us and I was pissed off and a bit drunk so I just made the bet. It was a bad idea. I’m so sorry, Osc.”
“I never thought that you would do anything, Lando! I was so in love with you.” Was. Past tense. “I was scared I would say something or let my feelings get the best of me and ruin our relationship because of how badly I wanted the championship. I wanted a break to protect you.
“But maybe I should have been worried about you. I never thought that one of the people I trusted most in the world would do that to me. I never thought that you would do anything like that but somehow - despite it all - you have.”
And then Oscar turned on his heel and walked away.
Lando called after him. Lando tried to follow him, started running, but Oscar’s form was quickly lost in the sea of people, so Lando was left alone to think about how badly he had fucking everything up.
Oscar had told Lando he was in love with him.
Was.
Past tense
Not anymore.
Lando had destroyed it all.
He had won the championship but lost the love of his life.
He had promised himself he wouldn’t do anything to fuck this up.
But Lando had never been good at keeping promises.
I want him so
He walked back through the paddock and everything felt wrong.
The pure joy and elation from earlier was gone and Lando just wanted to disappear.
The lights were too bright and the people were too loud, too much.
Everyone in the world was cheering for a champion who didn’t deserve it.
They were cheering for someone who chose a sport and a stupid rivalry over his love, over his Osc when he never needed to.
He vowed never to be like Nico and Lewis, and yet he ended up worse. They had reason to fight. Lando and Oscar never did.
Lando and Oscar had been fine.
He never needed to make that stupid bet.
Twenty dollars was nothing to him, he was an F1 driver for fuck’s sake.
But he had done it. He had made the bet. All because he was annoyed that Oscar was doing what was best for them.
Lando’s vision was blurry. Tears clouded his eyes, not falling, building up and building up until Lando couldn’t see where he was going. He caught his foot on something laying on the ground.
He blinked the tears away, letting them fall to the ground. They landed on a picture frame.
The glass was smashed, with little pieces of it littered on the floor around him. They sparkled in the light just as Oscar’s tears had. Just as Lando’s tears did.
He looked down at the picture. A pattern lay on the frame, carefully drawn and painted over, each little brush on the wood outlining fluorescent yellow shapes.
They were his blobs.
It was Lando’s helmet design. This frame was for him.
Jagged glass clung to the edges and Lando ran his finger across a piece, watching as the blood began to bead across his hand.
It didn’t hurt. He could only feel the tightness in his chest and the pounding of his head. The guilt from what he had done.
Finally he looked at the photo.
Lando and Oscar smiled up at him from the picture, faces lit up with joy. The look of love was clear in both of their eyes.
It was a photo from their first date. Across the side, unmistakably written in Oscar’s writing, was the final blow.
I love you, my champion ❤️.
If only that was still true.