Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Oscar isn’t sure how he got himself into this situation. 

Okay, maybe he did. 

It’s the last day of summer vacation. He had just arrived from his dad’s after the long break. After greeting his mother and sisters, it was vital for him to catch a glimpse of his crush.

His crush. His next-door neighbour, an upperclassman at his school—Lando Noriss. 

They had been separated by the long summer holidays. It wouldn’t be long before he would blend into the background for the rest of the year and watch the senior graduate before him, move to college and then never cross paths with him ever again. 

And, therefore, as embarrassing as it may sound, a mere grace of his dimpled smile would suffice. Just so he could have the enthusiasm to attend his first day of junior high the next day. And, also maybe forget the heartbreak the year’s end is going to cause him.

Oscar just had to admire him, from afar, as always. 

Now, the only way he could do that, undetected, was by lurking around his crush’s house across the street. 

He had lurked around Lando’s house occasionally to sneak a peek. Well, occasionally enough to know where they store their lawn mower, or how their Shih Tzu, Mimi, keeps digging into their rose bushes near the porch when she thinks no one is watching, or which part of the lawn Lando spends most of his time, shirtless, sun tanning when the sun is warm and bright, just like his smile. 

The tall hedges of Norris's lawn gets him enough coverage. He wears a navy blue cap, just in case, to conceal his face. All he had to do was to act like he was taking a casual stroll on the sidewalk. Hands in pocket and everything. He’s done this a dozen times by now. Very low-key, very believable.

Well, that’s what he thought he was being.

His stalking skills must have degraded over the break because suddenly Mrs. Norris was waving at him from the porch, calling him by his government name, telling him to come in with an enthusiasm he could only label as a bit dodgy. 

He tried running away, of course, until their Shih Tzu came up through the slightly open front gate and tackled him. The dog’s leash got stuck between his ankles. Next thing you know, his Aussie butt is on the pavement and Mr. Norris emerges behind the dog, with just enough time to sling an arm around his neck and drag him inside. 

So, there he is, sitting on their funky purple couch set, with a glass of chilled iced tea next to his navy cap on the table. He practically feels naked without his cap, in their ultra maximalist living room—like, come on, there was a freaking ten feet tall giraffe display in the corner.

The AC in the room seems to be on yet the heat is crawling up his neck.  

Mr. and Mrs. Norris are looking at him. 

Like at, at him. 

All smiles. All thirty two of their teeth beaming with whatever teeth bleach they use.

Mimi pants occasionally from the floor, the only thing that keeps breaking their awkward silence. 

A point to note—despite their weird interior decor, with their massive house, expansive lawn and the typical white picket fence setting, the Norris(s) are basically neighbourhood royalty—exuding a radiance of the picture perfect family with four lovable children and overly spoiled pet dog. Oscar had known this the moment he moved here with his mother and sisters three years ago after his parent’s divorce.

“Wow, it’s been so hard to get a hold of you, son,” Mr. Norris points with a grin. 

Oscar fiddles with the collar of his polo, pursing his lips and shifting on the couch. 

He had played an exceptional MI agent over the course of the three years, remaining under the radar for as long as possible because this is the first time he’s ever been invited and brought into the Norris lair successfully. 

Prior to this wack-ass situation he got himself into, whenever his mother made small talk with the Norrise(s), he pulled out the magical ability to blend out and disappear.

It so happens that his ninja skills were also impeccable for stalking his crush. 

Shit.

Maybe that’s why they invited him in today. Maybe they saw him creeping around too often to pass it up as a neighbourly coincidence. 

“My, you’ve also grown a bunch,” Mr. Norris adds.

Mrs. Norris looks at him from head to toe. She is practically beaming. 

Right, the growth spurt had got him good over the summer. The once lanky kid with bunny incisors is now a tall jacked kid with bunny incisors, as his sisters had pointed out. 

“Are you excited for your first day of junior year tomorrow?”

Yeah, so they know he’s in the same school as their son. And, that he is an underclassman. All because his mum actually has a civil conversation with them every now and then. It’s just Oscar, who keeps avoiding them or even Lando for the matter. Courage was never really his best strength. 

“Uh, I guess it’s alright,” Oscar shrugs, “It’s just…junior year, after all.” 

Nothing wild about starting your third year in high school. Everybody would be either catching up after their long summer break or trying to get to know their schedule for the rest of the year. Junior year was probably the most uneventful of the four years in high school.

“Lando was actually super excited to be starting his junior year because he was going to be the vice-captain last year,” Mrs. Norris’s smile fades into a small pout, “But now look at ‘im. Absolutely shrunk himself over the break for some reason! Kept to himself all the time. Stuck to his little video games. He doesn’t even want to attend the first day tomorrow! I mean, come on, it’s his senior year and he’s going to be the cheer captain!”

Well, that’s new. 

Lando was known to be the most enthusiastic guy in school apart from Daniel, also a senior. 

Oscar remembers all the times he would keep turning his head back on the bus, trying to catch a glimpse of the bright ball of energy, hanging out so casually with daunting seniors. His jokes would brighten up anyone’s day. Oscar often found himself smiling to himself, whenever he got the chance to eavesdrop. 

Geez, now that he thinks about it, he realizes he should’ve been awarded for being invisible to Lando all the times they were in the same bus. 

Despite him having the easiest access to Lando out of all the people in their school, as an underclassman and his neighbour across the street, Oscar had made zero, actually negative (minus one) attempts to approach him. 

This invisibility may offer him stalking privileges from a respectful distance but it has its downsides. Oscar can practically count how many times he himself had “talked” to Lando over the three years.

Three. 

He has talked to Lando three times. In over three years.

The first was during his freshman year. 

Lando and him were the last of the lot to exit the school bus. Lando had forgotten his green bucket hat. He had coughed loudly to announce it when they exited the bus. Lando gasped and offered an enthusiastic ‘thank you’ and the brightest smile he had ever seen. He could only croak a ‘no problem’. Before Lando could open his mouth again, Oscar had sprinted back to his house. 

The second was during his sophomore year. 

He had finally worked up the courage to sit next to Lando on the school bus, on the second last seat. Unfortunately, a senior from the back slinked a bag over that empty spot. Lando mouthed him a ‘sorry’ and he had simply smiled, whispering ‘no worries’. 

The third time was not even a conversation per se. 

It was the last day of his sophomore year. 

Lando, who usually had the loudest bursts of energy even after a tiring day, had dozed off in the last seat. He looked cute with the dribble of saliva in the corner of his mouth. Oscar worked up the courage to tap him. But, when Lando woke up, his eyes were red and puffy, as if he had been crying. And, before Oscar could say anything, Lando scrambled outside the bus. 

Oscar had no idea why he was crying but he wanted to make sure he was okay. So, he followed Lando until he was on his front porch. Then, once Lando turned around, he ran away, across the street, back to the safety of his own house, away from his crush’s…crushing gaze. 

Oscar licks his dry lips.

Is he pathetic? 

Mimi looks up at him with a judgemental look, as if she is reading every one of his thoughts. 

“Lando’s changed overnight. I suppose it’s the pressure of it, y’know? The seniors have so much to do,” Mrs. Norris nods, “You know, the ‘big’ exams, graduation, prom, getting a boyfriend—”

“Basically, getting everything off the list,” Mr. Norris coughs, “Before heading off to college.” 

The room gets a degree weirder. 

“Right,” Oscar shifts his eyes to the polka dot carpet, “Of course.”

Where were they going with this?

And, where the fuck was Lando? 

The only redeeming thing about your crush’s parents asking you to visit their home is that you would actually get to see your crush in their natural habitat.  

“So, you agree?”

Oscar blinks. 

“Hm?”

“You agree that Lando needs a boyfriend."

A pause.

He grips the glass in his hand tighter.

Wait. 

What? 

“We’re so glad,” Mrs. Norris offers him a relieved smile, clapping her hands enthusiastically, “All we ever want is for our little poppet to be happy—to live the full high school experience, including getting a proper boyfriend before college.”

“Highschool love as you young folks love saying,” Mr. Norris hums, glancing at his wife with a smile, “We were high school sweethearts too, y’know? 

Seriously, what the hell is going on?

“I’m sorry, what do you mean by Lando needing a boyfriend?” Last he checked Lando was dating Magui, his classmate and the star cheerleader. He must have missed an Insta story that announced it. “I thought he had a girlfriend?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Mrs. Norris slumps her shoulders, “They broke up on the last of his sophomore year.”

Ah. 

So, that’s why Lando was crying on the bus that day. 

But that still doesn’t explain why he needs a boyfriend.

“Apparently he had come out to her as…hm, what do you call it,” Mr. Norris narrows his brows, tapping his temple, “Biracial?”

“Bisexual, honey,” Mrs. Norris corrects. 

Oscar’s ears have perked up now, much like Mimi’s. 

Lando had come out as bi and his girlfriend dumped him. So, Lando is bi and single? Was this Oscar’s fucking birthday?

“And, Mark, y’know Mark, we’ve been friends for a while now,” Mr. Norris explains, “He told us you were birac—bisexual yourself and that you needed money to register tournaments?”

Okay, why was his cricket coach announcing his sexuality and that he was broke to his crush’s parents?

To be fair, his sexuality wasn’t much of a secret. Especially to Mark, his godfather slash coach, who caught him kissing a bowler from the rival team  in the locker room once. Unfortunately, the 'rival' Logan didn’t make it to the team next year. Mark wasn’t in a better place himself. Oscar had caught him snogging a fellow nemesis coach after a horrifying loss in the last year’s regionals. They are alike in the weirdest ways.

Oscar also did constantly complain about being too broke to compete at the regionals to Mark over the break. The school fees were absolutely grand so he did not want his parents to fund his extracurriculars as well. 

On top of that, the government—curse the fucking government—had decided to ban summer jobs for those under the age of 18 as a part of upholding some international child rights law. And, so, his father had made him gruel with menial unpaid labour at his house because he could.

“So, you know it is only fair for us to provide compensation for it.”

Oscar’s ears perk up again. 

“Wait, sorry, I don’t get it—”

“We will cover any costs that come with taking him to dates and whatever it is you young folks do.”

Oscar stares at the Norris(s) for a good minute. 

Mimi stops panting.

It gets uncomfortably silent for a bit.

“Wait, you want to pay me to date Lando?”

What is this?

A teenage rom-com?

Mrs. Norris nods, petting Mimi on the head, “Yes, silly, didn’t you say you need the money? You can save up for the cricket tournaments that you wanted to join in!”

His brain feels like he has hit a sixer. Did he appease some gods with his unpaid labour at his dad’s?

“We just want to support him as much as we can,” Mr. Norris points, “Might as well have someone trustworthy do it. Someone...we already know.” 

Someone they could keep an eye on probably. But, how could there not be a catch? Also, how would Lando feel about this?

“Is that even ethical?” Oscar asks, immediately, feeling the burn on the back of his neck, “Or legal?”

The couple look at each other and then back to him. 

Silence.

“And, if you don’t mind me asking,” Oscar coughs, “H–how did you know that’s what Lando wants?”

They share a guilty look. 

“Actually,” Mrs. Norris shrugs, “I found a page from his diary in the bin while I was cleaning out his room. He wrote down a list, things he wanted to do before graduating and one of them was getting a boyfriend.”

Mimi suddenly jumps up on her feet and darts for the front door.

The bell on the edge jingles. 

There are audible huffs and shuffles of someone taking off their shoes. 

“Hey, girl!”

Oscar could recognize that voice from a whisper alone.

“Oh, Lando, perfect timing! Look who we have today!”

Lando Norris emerges, face flushed, temple soaked with sweat, mouth closed over his sipper. He must have come back from his evening run. The tight fitting black shirt stretches across his lean muscles, showing off a solid outline of his tight core. The grey shorts he is wearing are totally illegal by the way. They cling to his perfectly muscular thighs, riding up ever so slightly up his—

“We have a new neighbour?”

Lando cocks his head to the right.

Oscar realizes he has his mouth open. He quickly gulps down the rest of the iced tea. The cool drink flushes down the heat pooling in his belly. 

Mrs. Norris tips her head to the right, “Honey, do you not recognize…”

The universe gave him this chance. 

He’s going to fucking own it.

“Oscar,” he stands up upright, facing Lando, outstretching his hand, “Oscar Piastri. I live across the street. Well, I have for about three years now.” 

Lando crosses the room curiously, almost like a cat approaching an object of fascination, eyes trailing up from his hand to his arm, then to his face. Oscar feels seen. Studied. His outstretched hand shakes, slightly. 

Lando then brings his hand forward, grasping his. 

Oscar feels his knees go weak. Thankfully, his legs are against the edge of the sofa, allowing a structure to his spineless interaction. 

They shake hands and he can feel the softness of the warm hands. There’s a bit of sweat, probably because he just came back from a run but Oscar exhales breathlessly, the warmth blooming from his hand to his own. 

Lando takes a step back, taking away his hand. He rakes his entire body with his gaze, bringing the straw of his sipper to his mouth, puckering with an obscene slowness, taking a few sips of the drink. 

He’s squinting at Oscar, attempting to pet Mimi blindly as she keeps jumping up at his feet. Then, Lando bends to shush his dog and god, he looks ethereal bent over like that—the way confusion runs across his bright eyes, through his long lashes. 

“No way,” Lando gapes, scooping Mimi in his arms, “But he—I mean, you used to be so quiet and—how did you get all that bulk?”

Wait, Lando knows him?

Mr. and Mrs. Norris also stares at him, nodding in agreement.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions running through his interior, Oscar’s face remains calm, almost blank. 

“Um, puberty?”

Lando raises a brow, crossing his arms tighter against his chest. Mimi pauses to look at him too.

“Ah, geez, are you taller than me then? Yep, you’re taller than me. I remember we were about the same height a few months ago.”

“You remember?”

Oscar reels back when he realizes it just slipped out of him. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Of course, silly, we share the same bus. You literally live across the street. Just that we never really talked talked. I thought you were mute at some point.”

Oscar realizes Mr. and Mrs. Norris have slipped out of the living room and left them alone, save for the dog lapping up the sweat down Lando’s neck. He wishes it were him, that he was the freaking dog lapping at his gorgeous neck.

“Um, no, I talk,” a chuckle turns into a cough. It’s getting hard to follow through a conversation when Lando keeps looking at him like that. Oscar wants to nail his feet to the ground to prevent himself from tackling the senior from the lack of restraint.  

Mimi shimmies herself out of Lando’s grasp and plops down onto the carpet. 

“Uh, s–so are you excited for tomorrow?”

There is a small stretch of silence. 

Lando rubs at the back of his neck, flicking his eyes to the floor. 

“Umm, mint. Yeah totally, y’know, who wouldn’t? First day of senior year…”

Oscar hums, “As the captain of the cheer team.”

“As the captain of the cheer team,” Lando repeats, then quips, “You don’t play any sports, do you?”

“No,” Oscar shakes his head.

“Ah, bullocks, I could’ve cheered for you.” 

“Well, then, actually, I’m in the county cricket team. We are practicing for the regionals.”

“I meant in school…”

There’s a faint spread of blush across his tanned face. And, at that moment, Lando smiles so wide. His picture perfect dimples dip into his cheeks. 

And, his…

Oscar is practically blinded by the neon braces on Lando’s teeth.

Holy shit. 

That’s…

—fucking adorable!

Lando must have noticed him staring like a buffoon. He suddenly stops smiling and clams up, placing a hand over his mouth.

Shit, he didn’t mean to stare.

He approaches the senior, just a step forward, to get a clearer view of the braces. 

“Are those new?” 

Oscar asks, genuinely interested.

Lando freezes for a bit but proceeds to nod, clearly shy of his new braces. 

“Just for the year,” he mouths, behind his hand, “Don’t I look like an absolute nerd?”

He’s talking behind his hand, hoping to hide the braces. 

“Oh, no, it’s cute.”

Lando whips his head up, wide eyed. Oscar can see, holy shit, four different colours in his eyes. 

Oscar meant it when he said it was cute but it was supposed to be for his head. Somehow it just slipped by him so effortlessly. He’s glad it did. Because Lando is so flustered right now. He’s practically looking up at him with his puppy eyes, twisting his ankles, digging his foot on the carpet. 

“Are ya’ having a laugh, Oscar?”

“No, I meant it.”

Oscar feels the heat race to his ears. His heart is leaping. He feels it wanting to jump out his throat. The little bottle of confidence he had conjured is drying up rather quickly. He needs to hide. Go back to the safety of his home base.

“W–well, see you tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Lando looks a bit surprised at his sudden cue of departure, “Sure, see you.”

Oscar heads straight for the patio and proceeds to put on his shoes. He is rushing out the door. He doesn’t even register Mr. and Mrs. Norris waving at him, from the back, telling him to 'keep coming over' and 'think about it'. 'It' being their offer. 

So, yeah. 

That’s how he got himself into this mess.

The next morning, the first day of his school, he misses the school bus because he misses his alarm. How did he get into such a deep sleep? Well, he had gotten to sleep late because he kept thinking about the Norris(s)’ offer. It wasn’t too bad per se, if one could ignore the ethical and legal implications. You get to date your crush and get paid. Who wouldn’t take up that damn offer?

The pros and cons crowded his mind until it narrowed as he remembered touching Lando’s hand, for a few seconds. It was soft, warm, coupled with Lando’s flushed face, his chest heaving, the shorts riding up from all that sexy running he does. Oscar had practically jerked off twice thinking about it, inducing the best freaking sleep he’s had in a while. 

So, here he is walking to the bus station, hair swooping up in all directions, hoping to make it to school on time.

A honk.

Oscar stops in his tracks and whips his head to the right. 

A black Jeep wrangler pulls up next to him and Lando waves at him from the driver seat. 

“Need a lift?”

Oscar might as well have fainted from the way Lando smiles at him. He seems less conscious of his braces now. 

“If it’s not a bother?”

Lando shrugs, shaking his head. 

Okay, he’s going to attend his first day of school in his crush’s car. 

Cool, cool, cool. 

Oscar touches his chest and forehead, as if he is praying when he takes the seat. Lando rolls his eyes but his grin betrays him. Tate McRae is playing in the car. Oscar mentally notes the song to add it to his own playlist later.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you miss the bus,” Lando hums, “What made ya’ late today?”

You. Obviously. But Oscar shrugs, hoping to dissipate any memory of last night’s…er—activities.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted a ride to school yesterday,” Lando hums, “But you just ran. Couldn’t even ask for your number or…Insta.”

Oscar’s not sure if Lando’s being innocent or acting coy. He had already followed Lando way back when he was a freshman because his profile was public. Apparently, it was made private after some time. Phew, he had luckily got himself into the exclusive Lando fan club. He always made sure to leave a like a few minutes after he posted anything, just so he could blend in with the other followers. 

“I actually follow you already,” Oscar admits, looking away, attempting to hide the burning of his cheeks. 

“Oh, really?” Lando cocks a brow, “Hm, I didn’t know. I’ll follow you back then.”

Oscar cannot help but glance to his right every so often. 

Lando’s dressed up rather fashionably despite their uniforms. The navy blazer with the Effon High emblem is thrown in the backseat with his bag. He has an untucked side of his white shirt, the maroon tie hanging slightly loose around his collar to allow a peek onto his collarbone. He has a necklace with a small green frog charm and if Oscar squinted, he could see the moles mapped onto his skin like scattered stars. His left wrist has about three colorful bracelets, one of them also showcasing a rainbow flag. 

In contrast, Oscar has neatly tucked in a shirt, navy blue blazer straightened and a tie knot that he had mastered over three years. 

The open windows allow the fresh morning air to breeze in. And, on god, Lando smells heavenly. Oscar, who is usually ticked off with strong perfumes, finds himself leaning slightly, only very slightly, towards him, from time to time, just to get a whiff.

“Wow, what are ya’ wearing?”

It’s Lando who quips. 

Oscar’s heart falls to his stomach. He reels back, confused.

“Sorry?”

“I meant your perfume or deodorant?" Lando eyes him with a smirk, “It smells super good!”

“Ah, it’s chocolate,” Oscar leans over to the driver’s seat, “You can get a better whiff if you want?”

Lando laughs and Oscar is in love.

“Aw, now I’m craving a Kinder ‘cause you mentioned chocolate.”

“Do you like ‘em?”

“Yep, anything Kinder, I’m all over it.”

“I should probably get a Kinder deodorant then.”

“What?”

Oscar coughs, shaking his head, “N–nothing.”

Much of the way, Oscar tries to keep it to himself after the embarrassing failure, looking outside the window to keep composure. But, Lando breaks his streak of non-chalance, often humming his favourite parts of the songs, or singing the wrong lyrics, earning a chuckle. Oscar’s more keen on asking questions which Lando happily replies. 

They talk about their summers. 

Well, actually Lando talks. He listens as he tells him of his short family trip to Hawaii, which explains his fading tan. Oscar nods, imagining in every detail.

“And, then, a crab crawled on my thigh!”

Lando begins describing the crab and all Oscar can visualize is about his big muscular thighs in tiny swimming trunks. 

“Oscaaar,” Lando inches his head towards him, “Are you even listening? Am I boring you?”

In a fit of escaping any allegations, Oscar looks away again. 

“Uh—actually, just remembered your mum telling me you never left your room,” Oscar glances to his right from the corner of his eyes. “Do you game a lot?”

“Geez, mate, I only started this gaming channel on Twitch with some of my mates to stream,” Lando sighs, slumping his shoulders, “Like my parents have zero idea what that means so they think I’ve grown anti-social—losing the innocence of my youth or shit like that.”

Oscar nods understandingly, avoiding any further provocation on the matter. 

The dating offer still roams in his head, despite telling himself that there was no way he was going to take it up. Somehow not telling Lando about it felt…wrong. Like he was already being dishonest with him when they were getting along well.

He proceeds to tell him about his county cricket matches to take off his mind.

“So, we practice at the Cricket Center near the park lane,” he explains, “There’s this big regional tournament that happens every year and Mark, our coach, is balding because, uh…we’ve had about two consecutive losses by now.”

Lando chuckles but nods as if he’s listening with interest.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get ‘em this year, Oscar.”

And, even if they didn’t, Oscar knows he would not mind. His greatest achievement for the year would have been maintaining a conversation with Lando for this long without combusting into ash and dust. 

A breathless chuckle escapes his lips. “Not sure about that.”

Lando tips his head to the right, “Why?”

“Well, the registration fees are a bit on the pricey side. I mean, we’ve lost two years in a row already. I’m not even sure if it’s a proper investment at this point.”

Oscar watches as Lando taps his index on the steering wheel. The light turns red.

“But do you want to? To play, I mean?”

 Oscar blinks. Lando asks with such sincerity.

“Um, yeah, definitely,” he nods, licking his lips, “To win too.”

“Then, I’d say go for it,” Lando turns to him, his eyes scrunching with a sincere smile, “Third time’s the charm, right?”

The light turns green.

Oscar feels his face heat up. Geez, his heart is pounding and all Lando did was smile at him. He might have a stroke at this rate. 

“I hope you’re right.”

Throughout the way, which isn’t much since their school is about twenty minutes drive, the jeep keeps making funny noises. Lando grumbles every time he has to change gears, which was amusing because that means the car had manual gears in the first place. 

Suddenly, the jeep stops completely in the middle of the road. 

Oscar recognizes the fault from the noise alone—it’s when the driver, usually inexperienced, keeps fumbling with the clutch and the accelerator, when they need to change gears.

“Are you sure you know how to drive?”

He asks with a smile. It’s a harmless jab.

“Oh, shush now, I’m a pro-racer,” Lando pouts, turning his key, “I just got my license, like, three days ago.”

The car starts again, but in a few meters, it halts. Again.

Oscar smirks, “Are you suuure you passed your test?”

“It’s the car, mate! I’m not used to it.”

“Riiight, it’s definitely the car.”

“Do you have a license, Mr. Piastri?”

The sudden utterance of his last name turns his brain into scramble. 

“U–uh, a driving permit.”

“Oh,” Lando pauses, leaving his grip on the steering wheel, “Then, you drive.”

Oscar blinks, lips twitching into a smirk. 

Jesus, Lando is literally pouting like a petulant child. It’s adorable.

They get out of the car and swap positions.

Once inside, Oscar turns the key and the gentle hum of the engine fills the space. He tries to fathom his father’s driving instructions that he had engraved in his brain and puts the gas in the pedal while he lifts off the clutch. 

A smooth sail. 

He pats himself on the back mentally.

Next to him, Lando claims his throne in the passenger seat, talking animatedly about everything and anything or just singing to his playlist, claiming to be the best DJ he has ever heard of. Oscar chuckles and nods along to the songs he plays.

Finally, they arrive at the school parking lot, crawling with students. Oscar quickly picks up his bag and walks over to Lando’s side, opening the door for him. The senior gapes at him, blushing at his gesture.

“What’s all this then?”

It’s George in his usual dignified self—walks towards them with his ironed shirt, crisp trousers and impeccably spotless shoes. His back is straightened like a ruler and his hair is brushed to be swept in a neat tuck. He had been the class representative for their freshman and sophomore years, with his consistent grades and remarkable list of extra-curriculars. The ideal student, the teachers often called him.

“Missed the bus so…”

“Of course you did, but I did not expect tardiness from you, Oscar.”

“Not everyone has a built-in alarm clock like you, Georgie-bot,” Lando pokes his tongue out, winking at the junior. As far as Oscar knows, George, Lando and Alex have known each other since middle-school since they lived near-by. That was until the Norris clan moved to their neighbourhood. They’re still pretty tight though.

George cocks a brow at Oscar, looking up and down at him. 

“And, you must be his chauffeur?" 

“Yes,” Oscar nods with a smirk, thumbing at the senior, "Because his driving sucks.”

George snickers and Lando rolls his eyes and weakly punches his arm. 

“Oh, sod off, you juniors—”

Lando’s face suddenly freezes. 

Behind George, Alex walks in, talking to Carlos Sainz Jr., who has a girl, Rebecca, a senior attached to his arm.

Oscar half-expected Lando to jump at Carlos as he came closer, because after all, Carlos was his best mate—

Carlos does not spare Lando a glance and keeps walking with Rebecca and Alex towards the main building. Lando stays in place. Frozen. His eyes track the two until they disappear into the building.

Alex and George exchange glances as they pass by, probably picking up the thickness in the air. 

Weird.

If Oscar’s memory serves him right, Lando and Carlos were practically inseparable since they were freshmen. So, why was Carlos acting like Lando doesn’t exist?

“Well, thanks for the ride, Oscar,” Lando mumbles, voice suddenly ten decibels lower than it was when they were in the car. He is clutching at his bag slinged over one of his shoulders, looking down at his feet. “I’ll head to the orientation I guess.”

“It’s your car, Lando, thank you.”

Oscar tries to say something more but his mind keeps repeating the way Carlos just walked by. He’s sure Lando’s feeling the same. So, he clams up, clutches onto his bag tightly, gives a small awkward nod.

As he turns around to walk to his classroom—

“Do you want to go back together after class, Oscar?”

Oscar does a 180 degree twirl on his heel. 

Unfortunately, the sole of his shoes gets stuck on the parking lot debris, sending him into an awkward wobble and right into Lando’s chest. He gets a whiff of the glorious scent and he feels the heat shoot up across his face. His head bobs from the sudden impact. His floppy morning hair strays over his eyes. 

Lando, shocked, catches his shoulders, steadying him. 

God. He wants to die.

Suddenly, the senior’s face lights up, his lips stretching into a huge grin. 

“Pfft—easy there, Oscar, I might just think you’re super excited to go home with me.”

Now, he really thinks he died. Because that smile is heavenly. All he can do is nod, until he straightens his back, and grips onto the straps of his backpack. It seems that even for a minute, he had managed to make Lando forget about the weird interaction with the other senior. 

“See ya’ then!” Lando waves him off, skipping towards a group of seniors. 

“I’ll be right here.”

Oscar exhales, hands popping up into finger guns. 

Who the fuck finger guns their crush? Geez, the anxiousness flutters inside of his ribs, hands shaking a bit as they come to grip his bag’s strap again. 

“When did you get close to Lando of all people?”

“Sweet Jesus!” Oscar jumps as his whips head towards his friend. Fuck, he forgot George was standing right there. “Uh, we’re neighbours.” 

“Since when?” George cocks a brow.

“Since I was a freshman?”

“I would have never figured,” George shrugs, walking alongside him to the main hall, “I’ve literally never seen you guys talk.”

“We talk.” If you count the three instances over the three years and their interactions since yesterday. Also, the fact that Lando’s parents presented him a lifetime opportunity to snog their son. Oscar grips onto the strap, calming his facial movements, “Well, sorta, kinda. We were on the same bus too.”

“What a lucky prick that Norris…a car and a free chauffeur.” 

George mumbles under his breath, seemingly more keen at decoding their school’s yearly calendar in his hand.  

The glaring lights of the main auditorium crams his vision as soon as they enter the large doors. Murmurs and chuckles crawl among cliques, freshmen with the spotless glint in their eyes, eagerly awaiting for the start of their first academic year in the most prestigious private schools in the region. 

Sophomores slink in the middle rows, breaking off the larger groups they had so enthusiastically made during their freshmen years. They walk towards the hardened juniors, whose eyes have seen the horrors of academic and extra-curricular pressures over the two years.

They find the empty seats next to Alex who’s hunched over his phone, smiling. 

“Hey,” Alex looks up from his phone as they near, “How was your summer, mate?” 

“Nothing much,” Oscar shrugs, recounting his ‘special’ father-son bonding time that his mother had forced him to attend. “Just went to my dad’s. We went around hiking a few trails, played cricket, cleaned and fixed his entire garage. Without pay, I might add. What about you guys?”

“I tried getting a part-time summer job too but obviously, failed since the absolute shit show of the government banned it,” George shakes his head as he pulls out a planner from his bag, “I even wrote a letter to the mayor asking her to revise this step. Thankfully, I got to tutor some of the freshmen to scrape up some money.”

“Yeah, that sucks,” Oscar nods in agreement. After all, that was one of the bigger reasons why Lando’s parents had the world-class plan to offer him their son’s hand for a…well, relationship or whatever they would call it—ethical pimping, perhaps?

“I went to Thailand and gained like what—three kilograms,” Alex pokes his own cheeks, “My grandmother made sure of that. But, wow, Oscar you’ve got some bulk on those muscles.”

“It’s the unpaid child labour,” he remarks. 

Across the hall, a loud group of seniors make their grand entrance. 

Daniel, obviously, the craziest of them all, increased any space’s average loudness by a hundred decibels, beams with wide smiles and his ridiculous jokes. Then, obviously, Max tags along. Depending upon who you talk to, the senior is regarded as either the wise underclassmen magnet or the ‘Mad Max’ who ruthlessly pursues and thrashes opponents in everything—academics, sports or extra-curriculars. By the looks of it, he is currently being followed by Kimi Antonelli and Gabriel Bortelleto, sophomores who were the top choices for their school’s football team. 

The ever handsome Charles Leclerc, the school’s common crush walks along with his new girlfriend Alexandra, the school’s common crush. The auditorium is suddenly filled with whistles and cheers by the other seniors.

“Seriously, what a childish reaction,” George comments, scrunching his nose, “What are they? The royal couple?”

“Definitely, royalty,” Alex perks up, “The hottest seniors get together. It’s a front pager, mate.”

They watch Charles and Alexandra part ways. Charles moves towards Max, talking in a more relaxed way. They had been close since Max transferred when they were sophomores. Despite the lack of freshman experience, Max essentially became a sensation as a model student for Effon High, earning a place against Lewis’s unbeatable streak. 

“Guess what I heard?” Alex whispers as the group of seniors pass by them, “Mad Max broke up with that senior, Kelly after she graduated. Apparently, he dumped her saying she’s too old for him now.”

“Obviously,” George purses his lips, rolling his eyes. “You’d expect that from the brute.”

Alex raises a brow at his friend, “Damn, are you still mad at him for what happened with Lewis before the break?”

George is probably gritting his teeth with the way his jaws clenched.

“Please be seated.”

Their principal taps onto the mic on the podium. A sudden hush falls in the auditorium. The orientation begins as their principal welcomes them. 

But all Oscar can think of is Lando. Or, what little time he has with him.  

With most of the interactions he’s had with Lando being exceptionally stellar, Oscar’s sort of mad at himself. How wasteful it was of him to spend not one but three whole years avoiding his crush when all he had to do was muster up the courage to talk to him? His whole low-key stalking skill seems totally inefficient in hindsight.

In that instance, his eyes fall to Lando in the row before him, seated in the most right corner, whispering something to Daniel and both of them laughing hushed tones. The principal offers an off-handed remark about rowdy seniors and both of them straighten their backs in an instant, as if they had been caught. 

Oscar feels the drop of his heart when he remembers what Alex had just said. 

Max broke up with a senior, after she graduated and left for college. It was expected.

Lando would graduate too. He would leave for college too. Was it bad that he wanted to take up his parents’ offer just so he could spend time with him?

Was it wrong to think he would have jumped at the offer, even if there was no money involved?

Half-way through the day, his eyes keep searching for the radiance bottled in a particularly athletic build. Sadly, Lando’s classes are nowhere near his, so they do not cross paths.  

However, his phone lights up with a notification when he turns on his data for a second to Google something.

@l4ndonorris has followed you back

He can’t help but grin. 

When the last bell rings, Oscar launches himself off the chair, making his way mentally to the parking lot, where Lando said he would wait for him.

“Geez, Oscar, you’ve still got serious energy at the end of the day?” George remarks, following behind him, struggling with the stacks of books tucked under his elbow. 

He shrugs. 

“Well, not all of us have to jot down every word the teacher says.”

George clutches onto the notebook over his chest, probably already half-way filled with the way he seems to take notes in class. 

“Lewis says it’s the best way to recall what you’ve learnt.”

It’s no secret that George idolizes the senior and his exceptional academic record. Oscar never really cared about academics like his friend, yet, he did just fine. Alex struggled in a few subjects, but made up for it in subjects that he was really good at. 

They make their way to the exit with George and Alex talking about the upcoming student council elections while all he contributes are blank nods because his eyes keep raking through the sea of blue blazers and grey pants or skirts, hoping to find the loosened maroon tie and the hundred watt smile. 

“Alright, I’m gonna head this way,” he says, casually slipping out of the conversation and turning towards the parking lot.

“Mate, we’re literally going the same way,” Alex points at a line of parked vehicles, “My scooter’s right there.”

Once they reach the parking lot, he sees him. Lando’s facing away, looking down at something in his hand. He gives a quick goodbye to his friends, heading towards the senior.

“Hey.” 

“Oh, hey!” Lando raises his hand but winces immediately, “Ow, fuck—”

Oscar notices the red line on his ring finger. 

“Wait, I have a handiplast.”

He reaches for his bag, shuffling around to find the small emergency kit and getting out the medicated adhesive.

Lando blinks at him. 

“Do you always carry that or did you see me and thought you’d need it?”

Oscar rips out the tape, reaching for the finger. Usually, wounds are supposed to be cleaned first. But, he figures it would be comfortable for the senior to seal the wound until he gets home and then cleans it properly. A temporary fort to hold it down.

“Well, someone has to take care of you.” 

The senior whips his head up, mouth falling open silently. Shit. What is he saying?

“I have these because I get a lot of blisters from batting.” What a save. He puts the tape at the base of Lando’s ring finger making sure he’s careful not to put too much pressure. 

When he’s done, Lando holds up his hand, inspecting the tape around the finger. It looks like a ring. 

“Aw, that sucks, I was beginning to think I was special.”

Oscar can’t help but say, “You are.”

He’s dumbfounded. Again. Lando’s staring at him, and then back to his finger. 

“Wow, you say it with such sincerity. Thank you, Oscar.”

And, it’s his smile that bites the corner of his heart. Leaves him thinking of all the possible ‘what-ifs’. 

What if he accepts the offer? Oscar swears he would be in his bestest behaviour, doing everything and anything Lando ever wished. Fuck the money—he would do it for free. Be his dog if Lando even thought about it. Would there be any chance for Lando to actually like him back? 

So. Much. Possibilities. 

The thoughts wear him down.

But the worst of it? What if Lando finds out? 

Oscar could not bear going behind his back. Like, ever. He would rather die than watch the bright smile slowly fade away from his face when he realizes his parents were behind it. 

Geez, why did it have to be this complicated? 

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe they were never really going to work out. 

And, maybe, that’s why he had to tell the truth. He wasn’t going to base anything they had on a lie. He should be straightforward, even if it meant it would end up upsetting Lando. He could not leave him without knowing.

Oscar exhales as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

Why did he always have to do what was right?

“Um, was there anything else or should we head back?” Lando asks as he is flexing hand as he stretches it to open his jeep’s door. 

“Actually there is something…”

Oscar knows he fucked up the moment he tried to be the goody-two-shoes that he thinks he is. 

They are at the empty parking lot of their school when the students’ crowd is already thinning out. They are about to head back when a surge of guilt overrides his senses. So, he stands between Lando and the jeep, essentially stopping the senior from opening the door to his car. Lando turns his head, brows creasing. 

Bad timing, yeah, sure. But, he really had to get it off his chest.

That’s when he blurted it out.

“Yourparentsofferedmemoneytodateyoubutthatwouldbejuststupidcauseyouwouldneverdatemewejuststartedtalking.”

Oscar exhales, the long stream of words taking his breath away.

For a minute, the senior says nothing. Like, nothing. Zero words. He just stares.

Then—

“So, you’re saying,” Lando narrows his brows, “My parents are paying you to date me?”

“Um, yeah,” Oscar admits, licking his dry lips, “No, I mean, they said they would pay only if we started dating, which we haven’t so, technically—”

Technically, they’ve only talked for—what, about a day?

Lando buries his face into his palms and groans. 

Oscar winces. He awaits for the expected. Oh, you’re an asshole, Oscar or ew, get out of my face.

“Jesus, I am so sorry, Oscar,” Lando shakes his head, clutching his forehead.

Wait, what?

“My parents literally lack the basics of social existence. Seriously, they look like the coolest guys on the planet and then boom! They have put on a leash on every single thing I do. Like, mate, zero sense of respect for my privacy and shit. And, now they’ve got you reeled in. Fucking hell, mate—I am so sorry if they were taking advantage of your economic situation—”

Lando goes on a full-rant about his parent’s unethical attempts to butt into his life. 

God, he looks so fucking good complaining. 

And, Lando’s not stopping, he keeps overexplaining and overapologizing and Oscar kinda feels bad too because he was actually ready to jump the gun, give in to his parent’s offers, without the money, before they were interrupted yesterday—

“And, they even assumed you were—wait, are you?” Lando stops mid-way, raising a brow, “Uh, I mean, do you date guys?”

A pause. 

The air around them goes thick. 

He gulps.

“Well, I haven’t, yet,” Oscar says through his teeth. He has to be careful with his words even if it’s not an outright secret. “But…I’m open.”

Lando pouts for a moment, dipping his head to the right, studying him. Oscar can see some form of clink-clacks of the gears turning in his head. 

“You know what, mate? Fuck it.” 

Oscar freezes. There’s this mischievous glint in Lando’s eyes. 

“It’s time I get to teach them a lesson.”

Huh.

“Let’s do it. Let’s get you paid, Osc!”

Huh?!

Did Lando just agree to…date him? So, that his parents would pay him? And, did he call him ‘Osc’ with that adorable little smile?  

Yes, yes, and also, yes.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, didn’t you say you need the money for your tournament?”

“Well, yeah but—”

“It’s done. I date you, you get paid. Fair.”

The world is spinning around him—the world in which Lando Norris believes dating a junior who his parents were willing to bribe to date him, was, in all parts—fair. 

“I don't get it,” Oscar shakes his head slowly, “I mean, I get that I get paid. But, what do you get out of this? Apart from getting back at your parents?”

“Do I need to get something out of this? Can’t I, as a good samaritan, do charitable work for my society? I don’t know, like, giving the sweet next-door nerd a chance?”

Oscar is too stunned to speak. Lando waves him off with an unserious roll of his eyes.

“I’m only kidding, duh. Come on, anyone would be stupid to not date you. You’re…” Lando is blushing. He’s doing that thing he does when he’s essentially shy—hands behind his back, knee bent, toe digging onto the ground, looking up at him through his insanely pretty lashes. “You’re genuinely so…sweet and honest. I really like that about you.” 

Code red, code red. Oscar can hear the emergency siren going off in his head. He forgets to breathe, only exhaling through his nose after a strained drawl. 

“Do you really mean that?”

Lando shrugs his shoulders up, looking away, smiling, because Oscar can clearly see the dip of his dimple. 

“Of course, Osc.”

Cool, cool, cool. 

Oscar clasps his own wrist, hoping to check his pulse. Was he even alive at this point? 

“If you’re okay then,” he licks his lips, gulping, “Sure.”

Lando narrows his eyes for a second, “Sure? Really? Just…sure?”

“I mean,” Oscar exhales a breathy chuckle, “I’d be honoured.”

“There you go. Thaaat’s the spirit,” Lando singsongs as he pulls out his phone, “Let’s start by exchanging numbers then?” 

“Right, oh, that…”

“You would not have done it without me would you, Osc? Can I call you that? Osc?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, that’d be cool,” Oscar smiles back, “More than cool, actually.”

Oscar fumbles to reach for his blazer’s pocket, fishing out his phone. He totally forgot that he never had Lando’s number. 

New contact saved: Osc 🐨

Lando grins as he shoves the contact info at his face. Oscar chuckles. 

“Koala because I’m--”

“Because you are a...mar–er, marpu,” Lando sticks his tongue out, tapping at his temple.

“Marsupial?”

“That! Yes, exactly!”

New contact saved: Lando

When he holds up his phone, he finds Lando pause for a moment, staring at him with his mouth agape. Then, a laugh and a shake of head, almost as if he’s…fond. 

“I’m okay with nicknames too as long as I don’t say it’s cringe.”

Oscar nods, taking in every information the senior throws at him.

“Okay, got it, no cringe nicknames.”

Contact name updated: Lan 🐸 

“Because you have to jump a lot, y'know, as the cheer captain,” Oscar explains with a grin.

Lando laughs. Head thrown back and everything.

The parking lot seems a lot quieter now with most of the students already exiting. The silence feels almost peaceful, as if the weight is off his chest and for the dumbest of reasons the universe chose him to lead this crazy rom-com, Oscar can’t help but thank whatever’s out there for the grand opportunity he had just bagged. 

He’s going to date Lando.

And you bet, he’s going to date him hard. 

“Let’s head back home then, Osc?”

His heart beat spikes up again at the nickname.

God, he’s pathetic.