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Okay, so in Lando’s defence he’d like to say that he isn’t at fault. It’s all because he was left unsupervised.
And no, no, NO, Oscar isn’t any kind of supervision. For Merlin’s sake, no way a boy a year and a half younger can be considered fit to supervise him. Even if the boy in question is serious, responsible, collected (usually, at least) and hot as hell. The latter being unrelated to the topic, of course, yet still worth mentioning, because what do you mean it’s not important when it’s in fact the reason this shit show actually started? The shit show in question being them narrowly escaping being caught after curfew and now hiding in a niche behind an old tapestry, something about unicorns grazing in a meadow. No humans or other talking figures: who knows what they might tell the Prefects?
‘I believe it was Pierre who spotted us,’ breathes Oscar, his lips not even an inch from Lando’s ear, and the warm air that comes with these words sends shivers all over Lando’s body. ‘I’d say he’s in no position to catch people breaking curfew, considering how often his girlfriend tags along on his patrols.’
‘Let me guess,’ Lando whispers back, ‘Flo snitched on what time Kika comes back to the dorm when Pierre is on patrol.’
‘How’d you guess?’
The false shock in Oscar’s voice makes Lando huff a laugh. Quiet, of course, because who knows if Pierre can still hear them. Still, he feels heat creep up his neck and take over his face, because Oscar sounds like he’s smiling, and his breath is too warm against Lando’s skin, and they’re too. Fucking. Close.
‘Osc,’ he says instead of doing something crazy, or stupid, or both, and his heart leaps again when his lips brush Oscar’s ear. That’s what not wanting to be noisy does. ‘We should see if we can go. There should be a chance.’
‘Want to go back?’ Oscar asks. Silly.
‘We’re almost there. Even the correct floor. We just have to find the tapestry with the trolls and walk a little. What do you mean, go back?’
‘We can come back tomorrow to find this Room of Requirement you’re talking about, in case you changed your mind,’ suggests Oscar. Lando gives him an angry look, which probably goes unseen — it’s almost impossible to see anything here, it’s too dark. Though other Ravenclaws have taken to calling Osc a cat, so who knows what he’s able to do.
‘We. Are. Almost. There,’ he enunciates as well as he can while whispering. ‘So fuck me if I’m turning back.’
‘That an offer, Norris?’
And as Lando’s left sputtering and gasping for air, Oscar laughs into his ear, and then his warmth is gone — he sneaks back into the corridor from behind the tapestry. A moment later, though, his hand is wrapped around Lando’s wrist, and Lando himself is yanked into the corridor, too.
‘No one here, I checked,’ Oscar says, and he looks so serious that Lando is almost sure he’s imagined the words that came before these ones. ‘Where did you say it was?’
‘There’s a tapestry with a guy and a bunch of trolls in tutus,’ he says, ‘somewhere in this corridor. The door is hidden in the wall opposite it.’
‘Oh. Right. And remind me again, why are we going there after curfew?’
There’s nothing accusatory in Osc’s voice, only curiosity. Lando scoffs.
‘Because that’s half the fun, duh,’ he proclaims, this time gripping Oscar’s wrist and all but dragging him along, quietly, so that their steps won’t echo. Not like he’s really doing it, not like Osc isn’t walking willingly. He wouldn’t drag him anywhere if he didn’t want to go, but considering Oscar’s half a step behind him, Lando’s sure it looks like it. ‘Let’s go, I think I can already see the picture.’
‘You said it’s a tapestry.’
‘Tapestry with a picture, Osc. Like, not with a pattern.’
‘Alright,’ Oscar says, sounding painfully patient. And Lando can’t see Oscar roll his eyes, but he can feel him do it. Muppet. ‘Let’s get to it quickly, I wouldn’t want to be caught, and I bet you wouldn’t either.’
Lando huffs instead of answering. He can really see the tapestry, it’s just a little bit more to go. Less than ten steps, as far as he can tell.
‘Now,’ he says, when they stop, ‘we need to walk past it three times, thinking about something that we want to get.’
‘It, as in tapestry?’ Oscar asks. Lando shakes his head.
‘It, as in the opposite wall. But, uh, I guess you’re technically right, ‘cause there’s no difference. But you still have to keep in mind where you want to get.’
‘I wish I knew how it works,’ mumbles Oscar. Lando elbows him playfully.
‘Ravenclaws and your desire to know how everything in this world works. You know, non-magical folks have this trope in their books and films and whatever, about a mad scientist who isn’t really evil, but doesn’t stop where others would in pursuit of a discovery or an invention or whatever. Bet all those mad scientists would fit in real nice in Ravenclaw.’
‘You forget I grew up much closer to non-magical people than most of this school,’ Oscar says, face straight, but eyes twinkling with a shadow of mischief. Lando wonders what he has done to this good and nice boy who always seemed to follow the rules, behave, and generally just be a golden kid. Apparently, nothing good, considering that now he sneaks out when he’s not supposed to, and is generally being a troublemaker in disguise. Not that he is as bad as Lando or Charles or Max, but hey, no one’s great at the beginning. ‘Plus, I’ve never liked the mad scientist trope.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they make too many mistakes,’ Oscar shrugs, face still straight. ‘Makes me want to do the same thing, but correctly.’
Lando knows he’s joking. He still raises his eyebrows for a moment.
‘Alright, Mr Piastri, then I just hope you won’t wish for a lab,’ he says. ‘Ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ sighs Oscar. ‘Should we both walk past it?’
‘Only one at a time,’ he answers immediately. ‘But then we can enter together. What, you got an idea and want to try it? Because by all means…’
The unsaid go on ending hangs in the air, as Oscar grabs his collar and crashes their lips together. And it’s not their first kiss, not the first time they are so close, not the first time they’ve tasted each other, or breathed each other’s air, or touched each other the way they do, but still, oh, still. Still it’s something Lando thinks he will never get used to. He hopes to never get used to it, actually, because what if this feeling of rightness fades into dullness once he does? Because even if kissing Oscar doesn’t make him whole — he doesn’t understand the concept, he might feel wrong and not enough and awful at times, but not incomplete — it still makes him feel like this is the thing he should be doing. Being with Oscar.
A really good relationship, he knows, isn’t about feeling bad without the person you love, it’s about feeling better with them. They aren’t in a relationship, technically — they kiss, they touch, they stay as close to each other as possible, but there’s no label on it — and still this is it for Lando. He’s fine when Osc isn’t around. It’s just that it’s even better when he is.
Pulling apart, letting go of each other feels, for some reason, harder than focusing on what they’re here for, and yet they do. Yet they have to. Room of Requirement, Lando reminds himself, gathering his thoughts. It gives you what you ask for, but if you don’t ask it for anything specific it might just as well give you something you’re in need of. A room where you can sleep, if you’re so tired that you forgot the purpose of coming to it. A room with everything ever lost in the castle, if you’re pacing by it, looking for something you can’t find — or if you ask for it. They’ve decided on another one, though, one where things have been hidden on purpose for as long as the school has existed. And still, if he were to start walking past the wall now, with the warmth of Oscar’s lips still lingering on his own, he might not find the Room of Hidden Things and get a broom cupboard instead. And he’s seen enough students hiding in those and hidden in enough of them himself to know the other thing they’re used for, the one that doesn’t involve storing the cleaning supplies.
‘Don’t do that again when I need to focus on things that aren’t you,’ Lando says, catching his breath. He wishes it sounded like a warning: it comes out as a plea. Oscar smiles at him, eyes crinkling.
‘Sorry,’ he says, but it feels like he isn’t. Well, not completely. ‘Resisting you when you’re all serious and concentrated… well, it’s hard.’
‘Sure it is,’ Lando quips, because he is, apparently, a terrible person, and lets his gaze flick down. It's accidental when he does. It's deliberate when he keeps it there for a couple of moments. Oscar sighs exaggeratedly, but still smiles, as if unable to suppress it.
‘Let’s just open the room before we’re caught snogging,’ he says, his hand still on Lando’s shoulder, as if he’s also reluctant to let go. ‘We haven’t got all night.’
Oh, Lando thinks, you’re right, we haven’t. But if it were up to me, we’d have a lifetime.