Work Text:
“We could paint the perfect
picture about us.”
— Something Different, Why Don’t We
The weekend when Formula One comes to Melbourne is genuinely Oscar’s worst nightmare.
He despises it. Even though the University of Melbourne is over an hour away from Albert Park, where the race is held, Oscar can feel its effects. Traffic is a million times worse. There are way too many tourists. The city becomes so much louder than it usually is. Everything is just so much more chaotic.
Oscar could quite literally go on and on about this. It frustrates him more than it probably should, honestly, but he just doesn’t like all the noise.
Ironic, really, since he lives in a huge city.
But that’s not the point. The point is that Oscar hates race week and he’s probably the happiest person in Melbourne when it’s over. Sunday could not come fast enough.
He’s so distracted that he doesn’t hear the apartment's front door open. It’s only when a hand lands on his shoulder that he reacts, quite embarrassingly too, as he basically flinches in surprise. He glances up and sees Logan standing over him, his roommate and best friend.
“Sorry,” Logan apologizes. “I did try calling your name, but I guess you were a bit distracted.”
“All good, mate,” Oscar responds, smiling sheepishly.
“You were glaring pretty hard at your notebook,” Logan notes, sitting down beside him at the kitchen island. “Something giving you trouble?”
Oscar shakes his head. “No. Just thinking.”
There’s a knowing look in Logan’s eyes. “Bet I can guess what it is.”
Logan most certainly can. It’s a bit embarrassing, but Oscar’s ranted about the race weekend to Logan before. His best friend usually finds it hilarious. Or he just really enjoys seeing Oscar pissed off since it doesn’t happen that often. Oscar’s a pretty level-headed person, and things rarely ever upset him.
F1 gets on his nerves, but only when it’s in Melbourne. When the sport isn’t racing here, Oscar rather enjoys it.
“I’m sure you can,” Oscar agrees.
“I don’t get why it upsets you this much,” Logan muses. “It’s not like the city’s any different.”
Oscar directs his glare at Logan instead of his notebook. “It’s different.”
Logan’s eyes flash with amusement. “Not really.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You are so dramatic.”
“There’s an obvious difference,” Oscar huffs, and he moves his pencil to solve something in his notebook, but he must apply too much pressure because the tip breaks.
Logan snorts. Oscar rolls his eyes.
“It’s really fun attending a race, you know,” Logan begins.
“So you’ve told me,” Oscar says, reaching into his case for another pencil.
Last year, Logan attended the Australian Grand Prix, and that was the only thing he talked about for weeks after. Oscar still isn’t sure how Logan managed to yap so much about a race. Seriously. It would have been impressive if it hadn’t been so annoying.
“I know you like watching it, so I don’t really get why you’re so reluctant to go,” Logan mutters, stealing one of Oscar’s chocolate biscuits.
“It’s too loud,” Oscar says, moving his plate of biscuits out of Logan’s reach, who pouts. “You know this, mate.”
Logan sighs. “I know.”
Oscar’s never been a big fan of crowds or loud places. If he can avoid it, he will. When Oscar was only five, he got separated from his mother when they were walking through the city, and it had undoubtedly been the worst day of his life. Being five and surrounded by a bustling city isn’t a wonderful experience.
It was traumatizing, in other words. Oscar’s never quite gotten over it. He’s been sensitive to crowds ever since.
Logan clears his throat, and it brings Oscar out of his traumatic childhood memory. “So…”
Oscar narrows his eyes. He knows that expression, and it never means anything good. “What did you do?”
Logan reaches into his bag and pulls out an envelope, setting it between them. Oscar doesn’t reach for it, watching Logan.
“What’s in there, Logan?”
“See for yourself.”
There’s a knowing feeling in Oscar’s gut, but he prays he’s wrong. He reluctantly opens the envelope and reaches into it, sliding two things out. His heart drops as he sees what they are.
Paddock passes. Passes that are for this year's Australian Grand Prix.
His first thought is, what the fuck.
His second: how the fuck did Logan get these?
“Boys Trip?” Logan suggests meekly.
“Not a chance,” Oscar shoots him down flatly.
“Oscarrrr!” Logan whines, dragging out the last letter of his name.
Oscar stares blankly. “No.”
“It will be fun,” Logan tries to persuade him.
“I’m sure you can have fun on your own,” Oscar replies.
“Going alone is no fun.”
“Tough.”
“Oscar, it’s paddock passes for Williams. Exclusive access. Come on.”
“Doesn’t Williams suck?”
Logan groans. “That isn’t the point! The point is that we have cool access to an F1 team and get to watch the race from the garage.”
“Very compelling argument,” Oscar says dryly. “I think I’ll stick with no.”
Logan sighs dramatically, slumping in his seat. Oscar does his best not to smile, trying not to give away that he’s amused.
“Is there anything I can do to make you say yes?” Logan questions. “Do I have any chance at all of making you agree?”
Oscar doesn’t need to think about it. “Probably not.”
Logan groans again, reaching up with one hand to grab his forehead. He looks stressed. It’s funny.
Oscar’s getting a case of déjà vu. This exact same conversation happened a year ago, and this one is going to end the same way that the last one did. Oscar’s not budging. He can watch the race from the comfort of his apartment.
“Okay, but I really don’t have anyone else to ask,” Logan utters quietly.
Oscar lifts an eyebrow. “You have other friends, mate.”
Logan just sort of shrugs, a smile on his lips that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I know, but I kind of wanted to go with you.”
Even though Logan is doing his best to not show it, the disappointment is written clear as day across his face. Oscar knows that Logan won’t force him into going if he really doesn’t want to.
Oscar feels just a bit guilty now. He knows Logan probably had no intention of making him feel that way, but the words do cut through Oscar.
He chews on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Logan.”
Logan’s eyes widen at Oscar’s sullen tone, and he quickly sits up. “No! Don’t worry about it, man. I’m not going to force you to do something you aren’t okay with. It’s totally fine.”
It doesn’t really make Oscar feel better. He’s rejected Logan’s offer two years in a row now. He’ll feel like a real jerk if he does it a third time.
He takes a moment to think about it. Logan did get exclusive passes with Williams, and if they’re watching it from the garage, it means they won’t be around many people.
It should be fine. Oscar could handle that.
“I’ll go.”
“Maybe I’ll ask Elijah. I think he likes—” Logan abruptly cuts himself off, looking at Oscar with wide eyes. “What?”
Oscar’s lips twitch. “I’ll go.”
Logan blinks, obviously struggling to believe what he’s hearing. “You aren’t fucking with me?”
“No.”
“Because if you are, that really hurts.”
“Not fucking with you,” Oscar says, stressing each word out, making sure Logan knows he’s telling the truth.
Logan just stares wide-eyed. It’s comical. Oscar should take a picture just to remember this moment. He’s never seen Logan look so shocked.
“You’re really going?” Logan asks.
Oscar can’t help but laugh. “Yes.”
Logan grins, and Oscar can confidently say he’s never seen his best friend smile so widely before. Logan looks like he just won the lottery.
“This is the best day of my life,” Logan declares, all giddily.
“And you called me the dramatic one,” Oscar comments.
Logan waves a hand. “You are, but I can be dramatic too.”
“I can change my mind,” Oscar threatens without any actual bite.
Logan narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t,” Oscar agrees easily. “That would be a bit too cruel.”
“Oh, so now you’re considerate of my feelings?” Logan asks, and Oscar knows he’s doing it on purpose.
“Keep this up and I might actually not go.”
“Empty threats.”
Oscar slides off the stool, picking up his notebook and pencil case. “You’re making dinner tonight.”
“Of course!”
Oscar doesn’t need to turn to see Logan’s smile.
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Before Oscar goes to bed that night, the paddock pass on his desk catches his attention. He walks over and picks it up.
He’s going to a race. He honestly never thought he would.
Oscar hopes it’s all Logan has ever made it out to be.
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Having a paddock pass is very beneficial, Oscar learns.
The day of the race, a car is sent to the building where Oscar and Logan live. Oscar didn’t realize the passes were that fancy, but then Logan told him he'd won them because he'd signed up for some contest Williams had done, and the passes came with all this VIP treatment. Oscar certainly isn’t complaining. It’s nice.
Leah is one of Williams’ PR people, and during the drive, he and Logan make conversation with her. Oscar likes her. She’s nice. She asks them about their degrees and looks delighted when they tell her that both are engineering students. Says they’ll really enjoy getting such an up-close look at the cars in the garage.
Oscar agrees. He’s definitely going to be nerding out when he sees them.
They arrive at the circuit and enter through a different entrance than the general admission entrance, which really eases Oscar’s nerves because he doesn’t have to go through a large crowd. After getting through the gates, they go to Williams' motorhome, where he and Logan are generously given numerous gifts. There is merchandise, signed driver autographs, and mini helmets. It’s all very cool.
Logan is fanboying the entire time. It’s hilarious.
It gets even better when they meet Alex Albon, one-half of the Williams driver lineup.
“Hi,” Alex greets them with a beaming smile. “You two are the Engineering students, yeah? Lovely to meet you.”
Since Logan seems broken, Oscar steps up and shakes Alex’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Is your friend going to say anything?” Alex questions quietly, his eyes full of amusement.
Oscar smiles. “Give him a minute. He’s a big fan, apparently.”
Logan finally seems to snap out of his daze, but his cheeks are still flushed pink. “Sorry! It’s really nice to meet you, Alex.”
Alex shakes Logan’s hand, and Oscar stifles his laugh at how Logan’s cheeks seem to flush darker. His best friend seems to have a huge crush on Alex. Oscar feels like he should know that. He thinks Logan probably has gushed about Alex in the past, but Oscar has tuned him out.
That seems likely, yeah.
Alex stays and chats with them for at least thirty minutes, but most of the time, Logan is just yapping to Alex while the Williams driver sits there and listens, looking like he’s thoroughly enjoying it.
Good for you, Logan, Oscar thinks, biting back a smile.
Eventually, Alex has to go, and Oscar does laugh quietly when he sees Logan’s absolutely distraught expression. His best friend is actually not being subtle at all.
When Alex is gone, Oscar turns to Logan.
“Should have just asked him out, mate.”
Logan groans, burying his face in his hands. “I probably acted like an idiot.”
“Like a fanboy, actually,” Oscar corrects, patting Logan’s shoulder. “I think he found you cute, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”
Logan’s eyes widen to resemble saucers. “Are you serious?”
Oscar shrugs. “I mean, it looked that way.”
Logan blinks, like he’s trying to process it. Oscar gives him a moment. In the end, Logan just mumbles something completely incoherent. A couple of minutes pass, and Logan still doesn’t say anything, so Oscar gets up.
“I’ll be back.”
Logan gives no sign that he even heard. Oscar just leaves, snorting in amusement.
He doesn’t have a destination in mind; he just thought he would walk through the paddock and see if he could run into any drivers. He doesn’t really care about meeting them, not like some other fans probably would. He’s not obsessed with any of them either, unlike Logan with Alex.
He’s so distracted, in fact, that he doesn’t notice someone walking towards him until a body collides with his, knocking him flat on his ass.
“Ow,” Oscar mutters unintelligently.
“Shit! I’m so sorry!” the man who knocked Oscar to the ground apologizes, sounding panicked and genuinely regretful. A hand is held out, and Oscar takes it, half pulling himself up and half letting the other man do it. Group effort, he thinks. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Obviously, Oscar thinks but realizes he hadn’t been paying attention either, so he really can’t say anything.
The first thing Oscar notices about the man is that he’s wearing the shade of orange that belongs to McLaren. He’s also wearing a cap, which, surprise, surprise, belongs to McLaren.
At first, Oscar thinks he’s a McLaren fan, but then he looks at the man’s face, the same face he’d seen on a mural on the way to the circuit and the face that was on posters hanging around the paddock.
Lando Norris, McLaren’s star driver.
And he's very pretty.
“—sorry but I really need your help.”
Oscar blinks, realizing he’d been spacing out. “What?”
Lando opens his mouth, but there’s a shout from behind him. “Lando!”
Lando’s expression descends into further panic, and he quickly glances over his shoulder before looking back at Oscar. “Look, just please go along with this.”
“Go along with wha—” the end of Oscar’s sentence dies on his tongue when a muscled arm wraps around his waist, and Lando moves to stand beside him, their shoulders brushing.
What the fuck.
“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Lando whispers, lips close to Oscar’s ear, and he can’t help but shiver at their close proximity. “She seriously won’t leave me alone.”
Oscar’s about to ask who she is but doesn’t have to since a blonde woman is suddenly right there. She’s frowning, with an annoyed look on her face as she looks at Lando.
“Lando, would you stop running away?” the woman asks, and her tone of voice makes Oscar immediately dislike her.
“Would you stop following me?” Lando shoots back. “Seriously, who let you into the paddock?”
Oscar manages to hide his snort.
The woman ignores the question, now looking at Oscar with a frown. “Who is this? Why is your arm around him?”
Lando’s grip tightens. “He’s my boyfriend.”
The choke escapes Oscar’s throat before he can stop it.
The woman scoffs. “Yeah, right.”
Okay, well, Oscar can’t help but feel a bit insulted by that. He’s not sure where the words come from, but he says, “I don’t appreciate you insulting our relationship.”
The woman lifts an eyebrow. “You’re really his boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Oscar grits out.
“Sarah, seriously, fuck off,” Lando says. Oscar glances at him, noting the anger swirling in his jade-green eyes. “I’ve been telling you for weeks that I didn’t want to go out with you.”
“Why did you never mention your ‘boyfriend’ before then?” the woman, Sarah, asks, finger-quoting ' boyfriend '.
“Because I shouldn’t have to say that for you to take a damn hint,” Lando practically hisses.
The conversation ends there because Lando’s moving his hand to slip into Oscar’s, and then the McLaren driver is leading them through the paddock until they reach an orange building that must be McLaren’s motorhome. Oscar just lets it all happen. His brain is still trying to catch up, honestly.
Once they’re inside, Lando lets go of Oscar’s hand. Oscar misses the warmth almost instantly. He berates himself for it.
“I’m so sorry,” Lando apologizes. “That was probably really unfair of me, but I just needed her to go away.”
Oscar clears his throat. “It’s fine.”
“Thank you for not, like, shoving me off,” Lando continues, smiling awkwardly. It’s cute. “I probably would have deserved it.”
Oscar’s lips twitch. “Uh, you’re welcome, I think.”
“I’m Lando, but you might have already known that,” Lando says, and his smile turns more genuine.
“Oscar.”
“You’re wearing a VIP pass,” Lando notes, eyes on the pass hanging around Oscar’s neck, resting just above his heart.
Oscar nods wordlessly. Lando nods as well, and Oscar’s not entirely sure why, but it’s a bit funny. Neither of them says anything for a moment.
“Lando, you need to—who is this?”
Oscar turns his head as a blonde woman wearing a McLaren team kit approaches where he and Lando are standing. She kind of looks like a PR rep, in Oscar’s opinion.
Lando gives the woman a sheepish smile. “My boyfriend?”
Oscar waves.
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Sitting in a makeshift conference room at McLaren’s motorhome, discussing a PR relationship is not how Oscar expected his day to go, but here he is.
“Sarah’s already gone to the press about this,” Charlotte, who Oscar has learned is Lando’s PR manager, says.
Lando’s face sours. “Of course.”
“Um, who is Sarah excarly?” Oscar questions. He hadn’t really planned to say anything, but he was curious about this woman.
“An influencer,” Lando fills him in. “Her team wanted her to date me, but I wasn’t on board with that. She’s been trying to convince me for over two weeks now.”
Oscar blinks. Famous people, he thinks.
“So, we have a couple of options here,” Charlotte continues, drawing Oscar's attention back to her. “Obviously, you two can pretend to date. Fake it for a couple of months and then break up.”
Lando shakes his head. “I can’t really ask Oscar to do that.”
“If I don’t, isn’t Sarah going to bother you again?” Oscar asks.
Lando grimaces. “Probably, but she isn’t your problem to deal with.”
And Lando isn’t wrong; this isn’t Oscar’s problem to deal with. Logically, he should just walk away and leave Lando to handle it with his PR team. This doesn’t concern him. He has no obligation to help. This isn’t his mess.
And yet…
He studies Lando’s expression more closely, noticing how sullen the driver appears. It’s obvious he’s stressed about this and has no idea what to do. And Oscar, for some unknown reason, can’t seem to walk away.
“I’ll do it.”
All eyes fall on him. It’s a little unnerving.
“What?” Lando is the one who speaks first.
“I’ll pretend to date you,” Oscar clarifies.
“Mate, you don’t—please don’t think you have to do this,” Lando fully turns to Oscar, leaning in a bit.
“It’s fine,” Oscar tries for a smile, hoping it comes across as reassuring.
Charlotte narrows her eyes. “If you agree to this, you’ll have to sign a contract. An NDA. You’ll be expected to appear with Lando. There’s a lot you’re going to be signing up for. Can you handle that?”
Probably not, Oscar thinks.
“Yes,” escapes Oscar’s lips instead.
Charlotte sighs, rubbing her temple. “Okay, well, if you’re sure. I’ll get to work on the details and show it to you both later.”
“Sounds good,” Lando smiles weakly.
“Lando, you should start focusing on the race,” Charlotte tells the driver, who nods. The PR manager turns to Oscar next. “And Oscar, you might want to lose that Williams VIP pass. We should probably get you some McLaren merchandise, too.”
Oscar blinks.
What did he just get himself into?
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When Oscar gets a moment to himself, he checks his phone. There are about twenty messages from Logan.
Logan
Where’d you go?
Oscar?
Did you leave?
You better not have left
Oscarrrr
Seriously, what happened to you?
Should I be worried?
OSCAR
SINCE WHEN WERE YOU AND
LANDO NORRIS TOGETHER??
HELLO
YOU JUST MET THIS GUY???
Oscar frowns. It seems the news has spread. That’s not great, but Oscar was informed about this during the little meeting earlier. Charlotte did say Sarah went to the media about it.
He sends a simple message, telling Logan he’ll explain everything later, then shuts off his phone and places it back in his pocket.
Oscar exhales. He has a race to watch.
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Lando ends up on the podium. The F1TV direction plays his radio on the main broadcast.
“This one is for a special someone. He knows who he is. My lucky charm for this week.”
The words shouldn’t fluster Oscar. He knows Lando is only saying them out of convenience. Knows it’s only for show.
He blushes anyway.
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norpodium
PAUSE. LANDO IS DATING SOMEONE??? WHATT? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN
[Clip of Lando’s radio message after the Australian Grand Prix.]
#that radio message is adorable #lando norris you are down bad apparently
345 notes
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McLaren organizes a dinner for him and Lando that night at a fancy restaurant. They’re really on top of things. And when Oscar says fancy, he’s not kidding. They’re dining at one of the most expensive restaurants in Melbourne.
He thinks it’s a bit overboard. Doesn’t comment on it, though.
“You’d probably rather be at a party,” Oscar starts, somewhat awkwardly, fiddling with the menu in his hands.
Lando looks up. Smiles softly. “It’s alright. This is important.”
Oscar doesn’t know what to say to that, so his eyes settle back on the menu, scanning it for something to eat. He finds a pasta and decides that’s easy enough. When the waiter comes, he rattles off the pasta’s name. To his surprise, Lando orders the same thing. When the waiter leaves, Oscar asks Lando about it.
“Same thing? Coincidence or?” Oscar starts.
“I’m getting to know you,” Lando responds, and Oscar can’t help but think that’s a bit smooth of him. “This is the first thing I’m learning about you. I’m sure you know about me, so.”
Tell me about yourself goes unsaid. Well, that’s what Oscar thinks, at least.
“Uh, I attend the University of Melbourne,” Oscar starts. “Studying engineering.”
Lando actually looks interested. “That’s cool. If I had attended uni, I think I would have done the same thing. How is it? You know, the workload?”
“It can be a lot at times,” Oscar answers honestly, recalling the number of sleepless nights he’s had. “But I love it, so.”
“It’s worth it,” Lando concludes.
“Yeah,” Oscar says softly.
“Alright, so what else do you do?” Lando leans forward. “Is your college life exciting?”
Oscar chuckles, shaking his head. “Not really. I’m, uh, kind of shy. Don’t really attend many parties.”
“So what do you get into then?”
Oscar pauses. “I’m active a lot. Cycling. Pickleball.”
He knows it’s not that interesting, nothing compared to Lando’s interests, but It’s something, at least.
“What about you?” Oscar asks. “Other than F1?”
“Streaming,” Lando answers with a bright smile, his eyes practically lighting up. “Big, big streamer.”
And Oscar’s not a big gamer, but—
“I’ll have to join a stream, then.”
Lando’s eyes widen, visibly caught off guard. “Really?”
Oscar shrugs. “Might need some advice on a setup but yeah. It could be fun.”
Lando’s practically glowing from happiness. “I’ll help you figure one out.”
Lando’s energy is infectious, and Oscar’s smile is almost as wide as Lando’s. “Sounds good.”
The conversation continues from there, and Oscar’s just a bit surprised at how easily it flows. There are no awkward pauses or fumbling for words. It’s easy for them to bounce the conversation off each other.
Their food arrives, and they continue to converse while they eat. Oscar learns a little about Lando’s family: he’s got two sisters and a brother. Learns about the YouTube channel he’s part of along with his friend, Max Fewtrell. How they film challenges and other such things.
Even though Oscar is focused on Lando for most of the dinner, he’s still aware that there are other people dining in the same room, people who might know them. It’s why, in a sudden burst of confidence, he places his hand over the table, reaching for Lando’s.
His heart thuds when their hands make contact. Lando’s hand is warm.
When he raises his eyes, Lando’s smiling. It really is a pretty smile.
Lando’s fingers curl around his.
It’d be a good picture, Oscar thinks.
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It feels a lot like a first date when Lando insists on walking Oscar into his apartment building. Lando had gone way out of his way by even driving all the way back to campus with Oscar, but he’d insisted. Oscar’s not entirely sure why, but he thinks it’s sweet. Or maybe Lando’s doing it for appearances. It doesn’t matter much, really, but it’s still intriguing.
They ride the elevator up together, and when Oscar reaches his apartment door, he turns to Lando.
“This is me,” Oscar states.
Lando throws a glance at the door. The number reads 481. “Right.”
Oscar bites his bottom lip. “Um, thanks for coming all this way. You didn’t really have to.”
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make sure my boyfriend got home safely?” Lando asks, a playful smile on his lips.
Oscar can’t help but smile at his antics. “A bad one, I reckon.”
Lando nods seriously. “Yes, and I refuse to be a bad boyfriend.”
“Fake,” Oscar corrects.
“Sure, sure,” Lando waves his hand dismissively. “I can’t be a bad fake boyfriend.”
“I’ll give you five stars,” Oscar says. “Tonight was nice. You were nice.”
Lando beams as a blush dusts his cheeks. “I’m glad.”
A silence settles between them, then. Oscar’s not entirely sure what else he should do. Saying goodbye is the only thing left.
Besides one other tiny thing, Oscar chooses not to think about that.
“Goodnight, Lando,” Oscar bids softly, the softest his voice has been all night.
“Night, Oscar,” Lando returns just as softly.
Oscar unlocks his door, but before he steps through, he gives Lando a final glance. He’s still smiling.
It’s that smile Oscar thinks about before he falls asleep later that night.
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F1 Paddock Gossip @f1gossip · 5 Mar
Lando Norris and his boyfriend, Oscar Piastri, were spotted dining earlier tonight in Melbourne.
[IMAGE: Lando and Oscar are sitting at a table near a window. From the angle the picture is taken, Lando and Oscar’s interlocked hands are visible.]
💬323 Replies |🔁460 Retweets | ❤️️10.4K Likes
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McLaren works with Oscar the morning after the Australian Grand Prix to figure out which races he will attend while he and Lando fake-date. They understand the fact that he’s in university and that his studies are obviously more important. Jeddah is out of the question because Oscar’s got a test the Monday after the race, a test that he needs to study his ass off for.
There are two weeks before the Saudi Arabia Grand Prix, though, which allows McLaren to organize a few appearances for them. Lando lives in Monaco, like most drivers, but he’ll stay in Melbourne for a couple more days before flying back.
They officially make plans for Oscar to attend a few more races, and Oscar half-heartedly pays attention. He knows what his job is.
After the Zoom meeting is over, Logan walks into the kitchen. They hadn’t talked last night because Oscar had basically crashed almost immediately after getting home. Logan probably wants answers.
“So,” Logan begins as Oscar slumps, resting his arms on the kitchen island and dropping his head to fall over them. “Can we talk about it?”
Oscar closes his eyes. “Ask away.”
“How the fuck did this happen?”
“He needed help,” Oscar mumbles, hearing Logan settle onto the chair beside him. “Some girl wouldn’t leave him alone. I pretended to be his boyfriend.”
“And now you’re stuck being his fake boyfriend?” Logan questions disbelievingly.
“Mhm.”
Logan’s quiet for a moment before snorting, “This would happen to you.”
“Lando’s nice,” Oscar says, still keeping his eyes shut. “It’s not that bad. I just have to show up to a few races, be seen with him, and that’s it.”
“Really living the romance novel life, aren’t you?” Logan questions, his amusement evident.
“Guess so.”
“What happens if you start to like him?”
Oscar cracks an eye open. “You’re not funny.”
“It’s a serious question!” Logan exclaims, looking entirely serious.
“Not going to happen, so don’t worry about it,” Oscar dismisses Logan’s concerns.
“When it happens, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Logan points a finger.
“It won’t happen.”
It won’t. Oscar isn’t that stupid.
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Oscar isn’t prepared for the amount of attention he gets when he attends class on Tuesday. As soon as he sits down, all eyes are on him.
It’s lovely. Really.
He’s the talk of campus now. He never thought that would happen.
His skin prickles, and he finds it very hard to get comfortable with all the prying eyes on him. There’s a part of him that almost wants to run out of the room, but skipping class because people are staring at him isn’t a legitimate reason. He can get through this.
It gets better when class starts and the lecture begins. Most people do what they’re supposed to and give their full attention to their professor, but some still seem unable to look away from Oscar.
He doesn’t get what their problem is. He’s not that interesting to look at. There’s no reason for them to still be staring. It’s almost like they’re expecting Lando to pop into the room.
Oscar tries to focus on the lecture. Tries to grasp the words. Tries to take notes.
He’s failing. Spectacularly. His classmates are really fucking him over here.
His pencil snaps. A guy sitting a few seats down gives him a look. Oscar pointedly ignores him.
He’s never been so relieved for a class to end. He packs his things up as fast as humanly possible, slips out of the room, and then out of the building. However, as soon as he exits the building, he notices a commotion.
His eyes widen in disbelief when he realizes why.
Lando is here, surrounded by university students, all of whom are trying to take pictures with him or have him sign something. To Oscar’s relief, Lando isn’t completely alone; there’s a bodyguard with him. Oscar’s glad Lando was sensible enough to bring a bodyguard.
He swallows and makes his way over. Lando catches sight of him and makes his way through the sea of students, who immediately scramble out of his way.
“Hi,” Lando greets, getting right up into Oscar’s space. “Um, they’re all watching.”
Oscar is well aware of that. “I know.”
“Can I kiss you?” Lando murmurs quietly.
It’s not like Oscar can say no. “Yes.”
Lando leans in and presses his lips to Oscar’s. It’s a barely there kiss, but Oscar feels it all the same. Feels the jolt of electricity through his body. Feels the tenderness from Lando. Feels how tentative they both are.
“Okay?” Lando asks, his forehead hovering just inches away from Oscar’s when their lips separate.
“Yeah,” Oscar says shakily.
There’s a twitch to Lando’s lips. A smirk. It looks good on him. “Good.”
“What, uh, what are you doing here?” Oscar questions as Lando intertwines their hands. It feels just as nice as it did last night. “How’d you even know where to find me?”
“Logan,” Lando answers without missing a beat.
Right. Of course.
“Oh,” is all Oscar manages.
“He was nice,” Lando says as he starts to lead the way, which is quite funny considering this is Lando’s first time on the campus. He doesn’t know it better than Oscar, but he’s the one guiding them.
“So what are we doing?” Oscar asks again since Lando hadn’t answered the question the first time.
“I know you’re free for the next hour, so I thought I could treat you to a snack,” Lando responds, looking very proud of himself. “Logan told me about that café you like.”
Oscar’s heart melts a bit. It’s just a simple gesture, one that doesn’t mean anything, really, because it’s all for show, but still. It’s, well, it’s nice.
“Thank you,” Oscar murmurs, leaning into Lando more.
Lando’s smile is brilliant. Golden. “Anything for you, Osc.”
Oscar tilts his head at the nickname. Lando isn’t the first person to call him that, of course, but it feels different coming from him. Oscar doesn’t know why. It doesn’t make sense.
Maybe it’s the way Lando says it. Maybe he likes how his name sounds from Lando’s lips.
He wonders if it’s normal to be affected by someone so quickly. He ponders that for the rest of the walk.
Lando, taking the role of boyfriend seriously, opens the café door for Oscar. As soon as they walk inside, multiple pairs of eyes fall on them. Lando shows no signs of being affected, simply slipping his hand back into Oscar’s and squeezing lightly.
It makes Oscar feel better. Earlier, back in class, he’d felt very unsettled, but right now, with Lando here, he feels calmer.
They order, and Lando pays. At first, Oscar tried to argue, but then he saw the card Lando pulled out and decided that, yes, Lando could pay for this. They find a table near the window, and as they sit down, it’s hard not to notice the cameras on them.
“Hey,” Lando calls softly. “Just look at me.”
Oscar brings his eyes to Lando’s, eyes that are warm and kind. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Lando shakes his head, reaching for Oscar’s hand over the table, their fingers tangling effortlessly. “It’s a lot, I know.”
“You make it better,” Oscar admits, feeling how his cheeks heat up.
Lando smiles softly. “I’m glad. How was class?”
Oscar clicks his tongue. “Kind of hard to focus. People found me more interesting than the lecture today.”
Lando frowns, looking bothered by that. “I’m sorry, Osc.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“But it kind of is.”
Oscar doesn’t entirely disagree with that. He knows that if this whole thing had never happened, no one would be looking at him. Knows he would have been able to pay attention in class.
But he’s not going to blame Lando for this. Lando had told him he didn’t have to do this, but Oscar insisted. So, really, this is Oscar’s fault too.
“You offered me a way out, and I said no,” Oscar reminds, clearing his throat. “I kind of brought this on myself.”
Lando hesitates. “Do… do you regret it?”
“No,” Oscar says, and finds that he means it. He doesn’t regret it.
There’s a relieved look in Lando’s eyes. “Good—that’s good.”
Then, Lando lifts Oscar’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.
Oscar doesn't swoon. He doesn't.
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nina @yellowflags · 7 Mar
EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP. LANDO NORRIS AND OSCAR PIASTRI WERE AT THE CAFE I GO TO EVERY DAY AND THEY WERE SO CUTE.
[Low-quality video of Lando lifting Oscar’s hand and kissing the back of it.] A shy smile is on Oscar’s lips.]
emma @spascrown
Replying to @yellowflags
screaming crying throwing upnina @yellowflags
Replying to @spascrown
they were literally so adorable emma. you don’t understand. lando could not stop smiling the entire time. that man is down horrendousemma @spascrown
Replying to @yellowflags
I’m so happy for him 😭
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lando 1h
[Image of Oscar, one hand half-covering his face as he smiles. His head is tilted downward as he looks at the table. A caption toward the middle says “break between classes”.]
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Lando makes Oscar download an app with F1 widgets. The entire time, Oscar simply watches as Lando adds multiple widgets to his lock screen. There’s a driver profile for Lando, another for the upcoming race, and one with the championship standings.
“What’s the point of this again?” Oscar questions when he’s finally able to take back his phone.
Lando grins. “Just making sure you’re obsessed with me.”
Oscar snorts.
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They start to text each other after that. Well, more accurately, Lando starts asking about Oscar’s day, and the conversation continues from there. It really does feel like one of those coupley things.
It’s a bit difficult, admittedly, with the time zone difference, but they make it work. The responses might come late, but they do try their best to respond to each other.
They try. It’s all they can do.
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The first race Oscar attends is the Bahrain Grand Prix. McLaren pays for the flight, and when Oscar boards, he’s a little surprised to find it's first-class seats. He gets over his shock quickly, realizing that it’s really not that shocking.
He sleeps for most of it. Does some schoolwork when he wakes up. Reads a little when he’s done with his work. It’s a very long flight, but Oscar passes the time.
When he lands, he’s driven to the hotel where McLaren is staying. He thanks the driver then gets out of the car, rolling his luggage into the hotel’s lobby. It’s grand as fuck and Oscar’s momentarily dazzled.
“Oscar!”
Oscar’s eyes find Lando, who’s walking towards him, wearing a smile. They meet in a hug because there are people around and they need to keep up appearances. Lando leaves a kiss on Oscar’s cheek before they separate.
“Hi,” Oscar greets.
“Hi,” Lando returns, reaching forward to take Oscar’s luggage. Oscar tries to protest, but Lando holds up a hand. “Let me be charming.”
Oscar quietly snorts. “Sure.”
“Was your flight okay?” Lando asks as they head toward the elevator.
“Slept most of it,” Oscar replies.
There’s a gleam in Lando’s eyes. “You do look a bit sleepy.”
“I’ve been up for a while, though,” Oscar remarks, frowning.
Lando presses the button for the twelfth floor when they’re inside the elevator. “You look cute. Like a koala.”
Oscar blushes. Lando looks proud.
The elevator dings, and they step off, Lando leading the way down the hall as he pulls a room key out of his pocket. Lando unlocks the door, gesturing for Oscar to go in first. It’s a very spacious room and looks like a standard hotel room, just very fancy.
Something catches Oscar’s attention.
“One bed?” Oscar asks, trying to be normal about it.
Lando rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. Gotta keep up appearances, you know?”
Oscar’s eyes stray toward the window. “Yeah.”
“You don’t mind sharing, right?” Lando asks, voice timid and unsure.
Oscar glances at him, then at the bed. It’s a very big bed. “No, it’s okay. The bed looks big enough for both of us.”
Relief washes over Lando’s face. “Okay.”
Oscar pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to his mother to let her know he's landed, since he forgot to do so earlier. When he looks back up, Lando’s by the bed, reaching into a bag.
“What are you doing?” Oscar questions curiously.
Lando looks up as he pulls out a fluoro jersey. “Since we’re dating and all, I thought you could wear my merch.”
Oscar blinks. His body feels strange. “Oh, uh, yeah. Alright.”
He knows there’s no reason to feel so weird about this. All he’s doing is wearing clothes from one of Lando’s collections. It’s normal. It’s probably expected of him.
But, still.
He’s broken from his thoughts when he feels something being placed on his head. Lando’s suddenly right there, a concentrated expression on his face as he adjusts the hat he just placed on Oscar’s head. After a moment, Lando steps back, looking very satisfied.
“Happy?” Oscar croaks.
Lando grins. “Very.”
Then he’s turning around, heading over to one of his bags. Oscar is left standing there like a fool.
Get it together, Oscar scolds himself.
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Formula 1 ✅ @F1 · 1 Apr
Lando and Oscar have arrived for Qualifying day!
[Image of Lando and Oscar entering the paddock. Lando is waving to the camera with one hand while his other hand is entangled with Oscar’s. Oscar is wearing a fluoro jersey and a McLaren cap. It looks like he’s smiling shyly.]
#BahrainGP
💬275 Replies |🔁654 Retweets | ❤️️15.6K Likes
monica @lnclaren · 1 Apr
Oscar in the garage during qualifying!
[Screenshot of Oscar in the McLaren garage, arms crossed over his chest. He looks slightly nervous.]
💬6 Replies |🔁12 Retweets | ❤️️34 Likes
emma @spascrown
Replying to @lnclaren
aww he looks nervous 🥹monica @lnclaren
Replying to @spascrown
he’s literally so cute.
megs @poleforln · 1 Apr
lando norris if you don’t get pole position i’m going to steal your boyfriend
💬3 Replies |🔁5 Retweets | ❤️️22 Likes
McLaren ✅@McLarenF1 · 1 Apr
Yes, Landooo! That’s P2 for the race 👊
💬453 Replies |🔁1.2K Retweets | ❤️️34.5K Likes
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Oscar’s thumbing the page of his book when he hears a door open, and Lando comes into view, fresh out of the shower. His cheeks heat up instantly when he sees Lando shirtless. His eyes dart back down to his book, doing his best not to let them wander.
“Oh—shit! Sorry, Oscar,” Lando apologizes. “I kind of forgot I wasn’t alone.”
A strangled ‘it’s fine’ tumbles out of Oscar’s lips. He hears Lando reaching into a bag, and when he looks back up, Lando’s no longer shirtless, a black shirt covering his chiseled chest.
Lando joins Oscar a few moments later, settling on the right side of the bed. The only light in the room comes from the lamp on Oscar’s side of the bed.
“What are you reading?” Lando questions curiously.
“The Outsiders,” Oscar answers, placing his bookmark on the page he was on and setting it down next to the lamp.
“Sounds familiar,” Lando murmurs, voice thick with fatigue.
“It’s a fairly popular book,” Oscar responds. “Got turned into a musical. Play? My sister’s a big fan.”
“Ever been to a musical?”
“Once, it was a birthday gift for my sister.”
Lando’s eyes find Oscar’s. “Speaking of birthdays, when is yours?”
Oscar bites his lip. “Uh, it’s coming up, actually. It’s on the sixth.”
Lando suddenly shoots up. “Oscar!”
Oscar furrows his eyebrows, not seeing the big deal. “What?”
“Oh, mate, you should have told me!” Lando exclaims, groaning. “I need to get you a gift.”
“No, you don’t,” Oscar argues, shaking his head.
“I’m your boyfriend,” Lando reminds.
“Fake,” Oscar corrects.
“I still need to get you a gift!” Lando reiterates, and he sort of sounds stressed. It’s funny, almost. “What do you want?”
Oscar sputters, “I don’t know! You can’t just put me on the spot!”
“There’s got to be something, Osc!”
“I’m thinking!”
Lando groans again, burying his face in his hands. It makes Oscar smile, momentarily forgetting about potential birthday gifts.
Truth be told, Oscar doesn’t need anything. Birthdays have only gotten more difficult as he’s grown older. He’s not a kid anymore, so finding gifts is a bit more challenging. Nowadays, he gets clothes and books. He’s not sure what to tell Lando. Realistically, he could ask Lando for anything, since there’s a good chance Lando could get it.
But… there’s just nothing that comes to mind.
“I can’t think of anything,” Oscar confesses after a few minutes. “Sorry, Lando.”
Lando shakes his head. “Don’t worry about. I’ll come up with something.”
“I mean, you really don’t have to.”
“Shush.”
Oscar sighs. “Alright.”
“I’m going to woo you,” Lando tells him, wearing a thoughtful expression.
Oscar’s lips twitch. “Sure.”
Lando narrows his eyes. “I will.”
“You’re taking this very seriously,” Oscar notes.
“Because I have to be the best at everything,” Lando responds, waving a hand.
Oscar chuckles. “Right.”
He reaches for the switch, turns off the lamp, and settles under the blankets. Lando shuffles around beside him, but there’s still a nice gap between their bodies, as the bed is really spacious. Oscar lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, hyperaware of Lando’s light breathing beside him.
He really hopes he doesn’t end up wrapped around Lando when he wakes up tomorrow. That would be very embarrassing, and he probably wouldn’t be able to look Lando in the eyes, which would be a problem since he needs to be able to look Lando in the eyes.
“Good night, Osc,” Lando sleepily mumbles.
Oscar swallows. “Night, Lando.”
Oscar ends up falling asleep much, much later than Lando does.
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Lando finishes the race in second, and Oscar joins the McLaren mechanics for the podium celebration. He takes his phone out and snaps a couple of pictures of Lando on the podium. Lando looks right at him, making a heart with his hands.
Oscar smiles.
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nina @yellowflags · 2 Apr
lando making a heart on the podium! I’m pretty sure it’s for oscar because he was there for the podium!!
[Image of Lando making a heart with his hands, directing it toward someone below the podium.]
💬8 Replies |🔁54 Retweets | ❤️️330 Likes
trav @brakesnorris
Replying to @yellowflags
what if i threw myself off a bridgenina @yellowflags
Replying to @brakesnorris
real
ry @apexstappen
do not care for wags at all but lando and his bf are cute
💬5 Replies |🔁2 Retweets | ❤️️22 Likes
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Oscar flies back to Australia, but Lando joins him. Originally, Oscar had been scheduled to fly home himself, but Lando wanted to spend the next couple of days together since they hadn’t seen much of each other.
Oscar is nodding off to sleep when Lando says, “You need to post some pictures of us.”
He cracks an eye open to give a blatant, judgmental stare. “Why, exactly?”
“Because to the rest of the world, we’re a couple,” Lando explains, sitting across from Oscar, scrolling on his phone. “Obviously, we don’t need to post a lot, but a couple of pictures would be nice.”
Oscar hums noncommittally, closing his eyes again. “Kay. Figure something out then.”
Lando snorts. “Making me do all the work.”
“Your idea,” Oscar mumbles.
“Fine, fine. I’ll figure something out,” Lando says, and it’s amazing that Oscar can basically see the smile on Lando’s face even though his eyes are closed. He just knows Lando is smiling. There’s something in his voice that gives him away.
While he waits for Lando, he thinks about social media. Oscar isn’t much of a social media person, rarely using it. He has Instagram and Twitter, but they’ve been untouched for a while now. He just doesn’t see the need for it, really.
But he does understand why he and Lando should be using it. Of course, they don’t need to post anything for proof, but it will definitely help if they do. It will give the fans and media something to fawn over.
“I got it.”
Oscar opens his eyes. “Photoshoot time?”
Lando takes off his podium cap, leaning forward to place it on Oscar’s head instead. Oscar’s breath doesn’t hitch. It doesn’t.
Lando smiles proudly. “Perfect.”
“Er, that’s it?” Oscar questions in confusion, adjusting the cap slightly.
“Nope. Get over here.”
“Why?”
“Pictures, Osc. What else?”
Oscar grumbles but moves to sit down beside Lando. An arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Lando holds up his phone to take a selfie.
“Smile.”
“What else would I do?”
Lando snaps the photo, lowering his phone to look at it. He lets out a hum of approval. Oscar thinks it’s fine. Good enough. They’re both smiling, so it should do the trick.
And while Lando creates the Instagram post, Oscar stays tucked under his arm.
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[Selfie of Lando and Oscar on the plane. Oscar’s head rests against Lando’s shoulder, the podium cap slightly tilted by Lando's head. They’re both smiling.]
Liked by McLaren, alexalbon, and 2,343,581 others.
lando pretty good weekend. pretty good company
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It doesn’t hit Oscar until the plane lands, but he realizes that Lando’s going to have to stay at his apartment. Lando can’t be seen entering a hotel. The media would have a field day.
Lando’s going to be staying with him. At his apartment. For multiple days.
It'll be fine. Oscar can be normal about this.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Except he can’t be normal about it when he wakes up Tuesday morning to Lando in his kitchen, wearing one of Logan’s stupid aprons that says “kiss the chef” as he moves around, making breakfast. Logan’s sitting at the island, his laptop in front of him as he types furiously.
Lando looks right at home. Like he’s been living in this apartment with Oscar and Logan for two years. It makes Oscar feel sort of fuzzy.
“Morning,” Oscar greets, stretching his arms as he settles next to Logan.
“Good morning!” Lando grins.
“Morning,” Logan says, glancing up from his laptop to smirk. “Aren’t you going to kiss the chef?”
Oscar flushes, giving Logan the middle finger.
“Yeah, Osc, aren’t you going to kiss me?” Lando asks with an impish grin.
“Oh, fuck off,” Oscar mutters.
“He’s making us breakfast,” Logan points out. “You should be nicer.”
Oscar groans, burying his face into his hands. The absolute last thing he needs is Logan and Lando to become some sort of duo. He shudders at the thought.
Breakfast is served a few moments later, and it consists of chocolate chip pancakes that look pretty good. When Oscar takes a bite, he can confirm the pancakes are, in fact, delicious. Judging by Logan’s expression, he agrees too.
“Lando, these are amazing!” Logan gushes.
Lando smiles. “I’m glad.”
“So much better than Oscar’s,” Logan murmurs, but Oscar hears, and Lando does as well, because he bursts out laughing.
Oscar glares. “Fuck off.”
“Second time you said that this morning,” Logan notes. “Must be a record.”
“Go away,” Oscar says flatly.
“You’re in luck because I do actually have to get going,” Logan responds, packing up his laptop into his bag. “Thanks for making breakfast, Lando. I’ll see you both later.”
“See you, mate.”
“Have a terrible day.”
Logan grins. “Love you too, Oscar. See ya!”
Logan slips out of the kitchen and then out of the apartment. Oscar sighs in relief when he hears the front door close.
“So, birthday plans,” Lando begins, leaning against the counter. “Your day is clear, yeah?”
Oscar nods. “Yes.”
“Good because I’m making plans.”
“You or McLaren?”
Lando holds a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “That hurts. You really know how to wound a guy.”
Oscar rolls his eyes at Lando’s antics.
“And to answer your question, I’m the one making plans,” Lando clarifies.
Oh. Well, Oscar feels a tad bit guilty for assuming it was McLaren, but he really can’t be faulted for that.
“What are we doing?” Oscar tries.
Lando gives him a dry look. “You seriously didn’t think that would work, did you?”
Oscar shrugs, taking another bite of his pancake. “Had to try.”
“Any ideas for a present?” Lando questions hopefully.
Oscar bites his lip. “Not really. I’m sorry I’m not much help, but as I said, you don’t—”
“Need to get you anything?” Lando finishes, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not listening.”
Oscar breathes out a sigh. “Please don’t feel like you need to get me anything fancy. I’ll take anything.”
“What if I got a rock?”
Oscar gives him a flat look. “Maybe I’ll mind that.”
Lando laughs, and it really is a nice sound. Oscar wonders what Lando would think if he told him he just wanted to hear that for his birthday.
Oscar pauses. Where in hell did that come from?
“Osc?”
“Mhm.”
“You've got class,” Lando informs, pointing at the wrist on his watch.
Oscar blinks, realizing that Lando is right. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Oscar slides off his stool, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later?”
Lando folds his arms over his chest. “Nowhere to be.”
“Alright.”
Oscar starts moving toward the door, but Lando’s teasing voice comes from behind him: “No goodbye kiss?”
Oscar flips the bird without turning around. He hears Lando cackling as he exits the apartment.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Oscar should have known sooner or later, this would happen. This being him on the ground, cradling the side of his face, feeling blood coat his fingers.
There’s some yelling going on from above him, but all Oscar really feels is how his cheek stings from where the ring of the guy who punched him cut his cheek. Someone’s kneeling down beside him, asking him something, but Oscar barely hears it.
He was just attacked.
All because he was dating a guy.
You’re disgusting. You and him, rings in Oscar’s ears.
“Oscar?”
He blinks, tilting his head to look at the girl kneeling beside him. There’s a worried look in her eyes. Above them and off to the side, there’s still shouting.
“Yeah?” Oscar croaks.
“You should get that wound cleaned up,” the girl says kindly.
“Probbaly, yeah,” Oscar agrees.
“Is your dorm close?” the girl asks, helping Oscar to his feet. He feels a bit unsteady, but the girl keeps him upright.
“Apartment, but yeah,” Oscar responds, lowering his hand to see the blood. He grimaces.
“Here. Use this.”
A handkerchief is pressed into his hands, and he opens his mouth to protest, but the girl shakes her head, pointing at his cheek. Oscar listens, pressing the soft fabric against his cheek.
He turns his head, trying to spot the two guys who jumped him, but they’re gone, their figures visible in the distance as they run off.
“Mate, we’re so sorry about that,” a brown-haired guy says. Oscar recognizes him as one of the guys who jumped to his defense when they saw what was going on.
“Not your fault,” Oscar responds, wincing at the pain coming from his cheek.
“We’ll walk you back,” the girl offers. “I’m Mia, by the way.”
“And I’m Andrew,” the guy says.
“Oscar, but you already knew that,” Oscar tries for a smile, but it hurts.
“Let’s get you home, Oscar,” Andrew smiles.
“Sounds good.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Oscar, I was thinking we cou—what the fuck happened to your cheek?!”
Oscar grimaces as Lando rushes up to him, worry gleaming in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He just shrugs helplessly.
“Who hurt you?” Lando demands, tone gentle and sharp at the same time.
“Two idiots,” Oscar mutters, tossing the bloodied handkerchief onto the counter. He turns to a drawer, slides it open, and pulls out a first-aid kit. “Weren't a fan of our relationship.”
“Do you know who they were?” Lando questions furiously.
“Maybe we can do the questions later,” Oscar requests, opening the kit. “After we take care of this.”
Lando curses. “Of course. I'm sorry. Sit down, yeah?”
Oscar moves toward the stool and sits down as Lando follows, carrying the kit over. Oscar stays as still as possible while Lando covers the wound with a bandage, his touch feather-light and careful, trying to avoid hurting Oscar further.
It feels very intimate. Tender.
“Done,” Lando murmurs, leaning back just the slightest.
“Thank you,” Oscar whispers.
Lando smiles, but it looks almost forced. “Does it hurt?”
“A little,” Oscar says truthfully.
Lando’s eyes darken, but the look goes away quickly, obviously trying to be calm for Oscar. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Oscar shrugs.
“But it is,” Lando shakes his head, guilt pooling in his eyes.
“It’s not,” Oscar argues firmly, and Lando opens his mouth to argue, but Oscar cuts him off. “Please don’t fight with me on this.”
Lando relents almost immediately. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” Oscar says quietly.
Lando simply nods, biting his lower lip. “Were there any cameras around?”
Oscar thinks about it for a moment, then nods. “I’m pretty sure there were.”
“Good,” Lando’s expression hardens. “We’re getting these guys.”
“I'll take it to the university tomorrow,” Oscar promises.
Lando looks relieved but says nothing further, letting silence fill the space between them. Oscar’s about to get up, but Lando must sense that because he says:
“Can I hug you?”
Oscar swallows. “Yeah.”
Lando steps closer, and Oscar leans into him, resting his head against Lando’s chest, right near his heart. Lando's arms wrap around him gently, and Oscar closes his eyes.
Safe, he thinks.
“I'm so sorry,” comes from above him.
Oscar just presses closer. Lando’s a really good hugger.
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Oscar goes to the university the next morning. With law enforcement, they’re able to get facial recognition of the guys who jumped him. Along with being criminally charged, both will be kicked out of the university.
Was it really worth it, Oscar thinks as he leaves the station. Was harassing me really that important?
The answer is obvious.
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When Oscar arrives back at the apartment, the only thing he wants to do is nap. He sluggishly starts toward his room but stops when he sees Lando sitting on the couch, an anxious look on his face. Oscar changes direction, heading toward the living room to talk to Lando.
“Hey,” Lando greets softly. “How’d it go?”
“Police were able to identify the guys,” Oscar tells him. “So, it was a success, I guess.”
“That’s good,” Lando murmurs. “You look tired.”
Oscar smiles wearily. “It was a lot.”
Lando reaches for his hand, no hesitation whatsoever. Oscar gives a little squeeze back and doesn’t let go. It’s nice.
“We’ll make tomorrow better,” Lando says quietly. “That is, if you’re still up for it?”
Oscar is. He really is. “That’d be nice.”
Lando smiles, warm and pretty and so, so genuine, and Oscar’s heart beats the tiniest bit faster. He marvels over the fact that someone’s smile can already make him feel better.
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“Happy birthday, Oscar!”
“Happy birthday, fake-boyfriend.”
As Oscar walks into the kitchen, he can’t help but snort at the decorations strewn about chaotically. There are balloons, banners, streamers, and some ridiculous party hats on the island. Logan and Lando are both already wearing one.
“Thank you,” Oscar responds genuinely. “When’d you do all this?”
“Before you woke up,” Logan answers with a grin.
“We’re kind of surprised you didn’t wake up,” Lando comments, holding a small party horn that makes a sound when you blow into it. “Logan almost fell off the island when he was putting up the streamers.”
Logan scowls. “And you thought it was hilarious.”
“Liar. I would never.”
“You’re the liar!”
Oscar smiles amusedly. “Sounds like you had fun.”
Logan turns to him, pointing a finger. “ I expect this effort for my birthday.”
“Sure,” Oscar dismisses, sitting down at the island.
“Osc, you gotta put on the hat!” Lando exclaims, picking up one of the stupid triangle birthday hats and placing it on Oscar’s head. “There.”
“Do I look good?” Oscar questions.
Lando grins. “Obviously.”
Before Oscar can protest, Lando pulls out his phone and snaps a few pictures. Oscar ends up glaring, just to be difficult, and when Lando gives him a look, he smiles genuinely. Lando looks exasperated and fond simultaneously.
“I’m posting this to my story,” Lando informs.
“Go ahead,” Oscar gives permission that’s not really needed.
“So, what are your plans today?” Logan questions, looking towards Lando. “You going to woo Oscar?”
Lando looks up from his phone. “Of course I am. I have everything planned.”
Logan turns toward Oscar with a mischievous look. “He’s going to woo you, man.”
Oscar rolls his eyes. “I heard, Logan.”
“I have to get to class, but I’ll give you your gift later, yeah?” Logan says, turning toward the refrigerator to pull out his water bottle. “Have fun on your date!”
Logan slips out of the apartment, leaving Oscar and Lando alone. Oscar focuses on Lando again, very curious about what they’ll be doing today.
“So, what are we doing?”
“That would ruin it! You’ll just have to wait.”
Oscar sighs. He knew that was coming. “Well, what about a gift?”
Lando’s eyes brighten. “I have a couple, but I can give you one now.”
Oscar’s eyes widen slightly. He would have been fine with one gift. He didn’t expect Lando to get him multiple. “You didn’t need to—”
“Shush, Oscar,” Lando cuts him off, reaching into his pocket to pull out a tiny box.
Oscar eyes it. “A little early for a proposal, don’t you think?”
Lando snorts. “Funny.”
Oscar smiles a little and lifts the lid of the box. Inside is a bracelet made from orange and black charms, along with three white charms that spell out ‘LN4’. Oscar slides it on, and when he glances up, Lando is beaming.
“Like it?” Lando asks eagerly.
“I do,” Oscar responds. It’s a nice, thoughtful gift, and even though he knows Lando has a few more presents, he would have been just fine with this. “It’s sweet.”
“Wear it today?” Lando requests with a hopeful tone.
“Of course,” Oscar assures. “Thank you, Lando.”
“So, I was actually planning on heading out in about thirty minutes. Does that work with you?” Lando asks.
“Yup,” Oscar confirms.
And thirty minutes later, Oscar and Lando are climbing into a car together, a large picnic basket in Lando’s hand.
“Hi, Paul!” Lando greets cheerfully.
“Mr. Norris,” their driver, Paul, returns in a friendly tone. “Mr. Piastri. Happy birthday.”
Oscar blinks. “Oh. Thank you.”
“Paul’s my bodyguard,” Lando says as Paul starts the car and drives off.
Oscar notes Lando didn’t give Paul the location of where they’re going, so he assumes Paul already knows. And there’s also the fact that Lando probably doesn’t want to spoil where they’re going.
But Oscar already has a few clues.
“So we have a picnic basket,” Oscar comments, eyeing the basket on the floor.
“We do,” Lando agrees.
“Lunch date?” Oscar guesses.
Lando hums. “Something like that.”
Oscar doesn’t guess after that. He’s got a pretty good feeling they’re going to a park or something but remains silent, not wanting to accidentally guess where Lando is taking him. As he glances out the window, he sees movement from the corner of his eye. Lando’s got his phone and is taking more pictures of Oscar.
Oscar turns toward him. “More?”
Lando just grins. “I’m making a post for your birthday.”
Right. That makes sense. Oscar flashes a smile and then turns to look out the window. He can’t be sure, but he swears he hears Lando quietly murmur “pretty”.
The drive isn’t long, maybe thirty minutes or so. Oscar realizes they’re pretty close to the Royal Botanic Gardens Victoria and has a strong feeling that’s where he and Lando are going. Paul pulls to the side of the road, letting Oscar and Lando out.
“He’ll be back later,” Lando says as Paul drives away. “You’re mine for the next few hours.”
“I’m always yours,” Oscar says without thinking.
Lando’s eyes widen for a split second, and then he’s grinning. “Yes, yes, you are.”
With his free hand, Lando reaches for Oscar’s hand, intertwines their fingers, and begins leading them down the sidewalk. Almost instinctively, Oscar lets his fingers curl around Lando’s, and he supposes it is a bit natural. He’s held Lando’s hand numerous times now. He’s used to it. He’s used to reaching for him when they’re together in public.
For appearances, Oscar reminds himself.
“There’s probably a chance you’ve been here,” Lando’s voice makes Oscar focus on him. “But the gardens looked so beautiful, and I really wanted to visit. I’ve been meaning to. Just never got around to it. It will be even more special with you with me.”
Oscar ducks his head to hide his blush. There’s no reason for him to get so flustered over the tiniest bit of flirting. It’s not even real, anyway.
But it feels like it is.
They walk into the Royal Botanic Gardens Victoria, and Oscar lets Lando lead even though there’s a really good chance Lando has no idea where he’s going. The gardens are big, with so much to see, and since this is Lando’s first time, he’ll probably just lead them in a random direction.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Oscar can’t help but ask.
Lando grins. “I did some research. I have the route in my head.”
Oscar is impressed. “You’re prepared.”
“Of course. We are on a date.”
There goes Oscar’s traitorous heart fluttering. He really needs to get a grip.
They’re about seven minutes into walking when they get noticed. Or, more accurately, Lando gets noticed.
“That’s Lando Norris!”
“Oh, my god!”
Oscar and Lando stop walking, turning in sync as two teenage girls approach them. One of them, funnily enough, is wearing McLaren merch. So Oscar knows they aren’t just approaching Lando for clout.
“Hi,” Lando greets with a charming smile. “Pictures, right?”
“If you don’t mind,” the girl wearing the McLaren shirt says, one hand reaching into her pocket for her phone.
“I’ll take the photo,” Oscar offers, taking the phone from the girl. He turns to the second one. “Are you getting in?”
The girl blinks, shaking her head. “More of a Ferrari fan, actually.”
“Boo,” Lando says teasingly, which makes the girl shake her head with a smile.
“She likes you,” the McLaren fan tells Lando. “She thinks you’re pretty.”
“Eve, shut up!”
“What? It’s the truth.”
Lando’s smile widens. “Get in then.”
The two girls stand on either side of Lando, both beaming. Oscar snaps a few photos, then hands the phone back.
“Thank you so much! This really means a lot!”
“Thanks for the support,” Lando responds. “Have a good day.”
“Have fun on your date!”
The two girls walk away, both giggling, and Lando walks back over to Oscar, reaching for his hand, fingers intertwining effortlessly.
“Sorry,” Lando apologizes, looking a tad bit guilty.
Oscar shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. Besides, they were nice.”
“If you’re sure,” Lando says hesitantly.
Oscar squeezes his hand. “I’m sure. Lead the way.”
Lando begins guiding them through the garden, and pretty soon, they’re approaching a spot Oscar knows, which is Picnic Point, one of the most beautiful spots in the gardens. There’s a lawn that sits right on the edge of Ornamental Lake with trees scattered around.
“Our venue,” Lando dramatically gestures, freeing his hand from Oscar’s to do so. Oscar mourns the loss of contact and almost kicks himself for it.
“You really did do your research,” Oscar comments, since this spot is one of the more popular ones in the gardens.
Together, they place the blanket down and then make themselves comfortable on it. They’re lucky because there aren’t many people in this spot. There’s an older couple, but that’s about it.
“Okay, first things first,” Lando opens the basket and pulls out a container with a cupcake. “The birthday cupcake, of course.”
Oscar quirks an eyebrow. “Aren’t cupcakes for dessert?”
“We’re doing things in a different order,” Lando waves his hand dismissively. “You have to make your wish.”
“It’s not lit,” Oscar points out.
“Just pretend it’s lit,” Lando responds, frowning.
Oscar snorts at how serious Lando sounds, but he takes the offered cupcake. There’s a singular candle sticking up in the middle. He’s never really made birthday wishes before. Never saw the point.
He’ll do it for Lando.
“Did you make one?”
Oscar looks up. “Yeah.”
Lando’s eyes glitter. “Was it a good one?”
Oscar hums. “Maybe.”
“Well, I hope it comes true,” Lando says, smiling.
Oscar reaches into the basket and takes out a plastic knife. He cuts the cupcake right down the middle and offers the other piece to Lando, who takes it with wide eyes.
“Thanks, Osc,” Lando murmurs softly.
“Cheers,” Oscar says like an idiot, lifting his cupcake.
Lando laughs, bright and happy, and Oscar smiles widely. He thinks this is shaping up to be one of his best birthdays yet.
Lando’s making it special. Memorable. And Oscar can’t help but think that none of this feels very fake.
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lando 8m
[Selfie of Lando and Oscar sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, with Oscar resting his head on Lando’s shoulder. Lando is beaming at the camera, while Oscar’s looking down with a smile. A caption at the top reads “celebrating a special day”.]
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After they finish lunch, they sprawl out across the blanket. Oscar’s got his arms resting behind his head, eyes shut, and he reckons he’s on his way to falling asleep. Everything is just so peaceful here. It feels like they’re in their own little bubble.
“Are you really about to take a nap?” Lando prods. “Am I that boring?”
Oscar cracks an eye open. “No, I just feel really calm.”
Lando’s silent for a couple of seconds, then says, “Calmness makes you tired?”
Oscar hums. “Makes me peaceful. Easy to relax. Easy to sleep.”
There’s a hand in his hair. Oscar surprises himself by not jumping. “Sleep, Osc.”
“M’kay.”
And he drifts off.
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The next part of their date doesn’t come until sunset, when Lando leads Oscar up to the rooftop of Oscar’s apartment building. When they walk through the door, Oscar is stunned at what he sees. There’s a projector set up—one that isn’t usually there— and a couch has been moved to be close to the screen. Fairylights have also been strung up.
Oscar turns to Lando. “You did this?”
Lando shrugs, looking bashful. “Had some help.”
“Thank you,” Oscar manages to say, emotion bleeding through his words.
Lando didn’t have to go to all these lengths for Oscar, but he did. He did, and Oscar wished there was something he could do to show his appreciation, but the only thing he offered was a pathetic thank-you.
He’s such an idiot.
“What movie are we watching?” Oscar asks as he and Lando settle on the couch.
“Rio,” Lando responds, grinning. “Logan told me you were a big fan.”
Oscar smiles, making a note to thank Logan. “He’s not lying.”
“That’s a relief,” Lando comments. “That would have sucked if he were lying.”
Lando starts the movie, and Oscar leans a bit closer. They’re sitting close together, as close as they were earlier in the gardens, and a part of Oscar yearns to be closer. Lando’s arm is thrown over the back of the couch, and if he moved it lower, it would be around Oscar’s shoulders.
Oscar makes the first move by resting his head against Lando’s shoulder. A moment later, the arm goes around his shoulders. Oscar grins.
Mission success.
As the movie plays, the sun continues to set, hues of pink and blue fading as darkness begins to replace it. It’s one of the most beautiful nights of Oscar’s life.
“I do have another gift for you,” Lando murmurs at some point.
Oscar lifts his head. “Yeah?”
Lando shifts, reaching down to pick up a bag with wrapping paper concealing the gift that’s inside. He places it in Oscar’s lap.
“Go ahead.”
Oscar removes the wrapping paper, and the gift becomes visible: a stuffed koala. Oscar takes the koala out of the bag and marvels at how soft it is.
“Saw it in a store and couldn’t help myself,” Lando explains with a small smile. “Compared you to when we were in Bahrain so I thought you could use a friend.”
Oscar laughs, raising his eyes from the koala to meet Lando’s. “Thank you.”
“You like it?”
“He’ll sleep in my bed every night,” Oscar promises.
“What a lucky koala,” Lando comments, eyes glittering.
Oscar glances at the koala, then at the bracelet on his wrist, and finally at the projector. Lando did all of this for him. He went to so much effort for him. Oscar’s never been doted on like this before, mainly because he’s never been in a real relationship. He’s gone on a few dates but has never had a relationship that could really be called a relationship.
Lando’s been the perfect boyfriend, fake or not.
“Thank you, Lando,” Oscar murmurs, bringing his eyes back to Lando’s. “For all of this. Today has been amazing.”
His words seem to make Lando shy. “Of course, Osc. I didn’t really do much.”
Oscar disagrees. “No, you did a lot.”
“Well, you deserve it,” Lando mumbles, cheeks flushing that pretty shade of pink. “Happy birthday, Oscar.”
Oscar tucks his head back against Lando’s shoulder.
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Oscar misses both the Chinese and Azerbaijan Grand Prix, but Lando flies to Australia to spend a couple of days with Oscar in between them.
For appearances, is what Oscar constantly tells himself.
But that’s starting to feel like a lie.
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In Miami, Lando wins, and Oscar is there to experience it.
He stands behind the barriers with the rest of the McLaren mechanics, and Lando goes right for him as soon as he jumps off the nose of his car.
Then there are lips on Oscar’s, and he melts into it like it’s something he and Lando have done over a hundred times. When he pulls back, Lando’s face is flushed, and his eyes are shining much brighter than the Miami sun.
He’s the most gorgeous sight Oscar has ever laid his eyes upon.
And he knows he’s in trouble.
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Lando wins in Monaco, then in Spain and after Canada; he’s leading the championship. Oscar watches the Canadian podium from home. Watches Lando glow under the sun as it finally peeks through the clouds after a long, wet race. Watches Lando tilt his head back, a sigh falling from his lips as his anthem plays.
Oscar takes a picture of the screen. Uploads it to his story. Then refocuses on the screen.
He wants to be there. He wants to be able to celebrate with Lando.
He wants, and he really knows he shouldn’t.
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Oscar flies to Austria to attend the race weekend. He feels off the entire time he’s on the plane. He doesn’t know why.
He hopes it’s nothing.
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It doesn’t turn out to be nothing.
“We should break up.”
It comes out of nowhere, and all Oscar can say is, “What?”
Lando isn’t looking at him, eyes focused on the window. “We should end our arrangement. I think it's done its job.”
Oscar’s entire body feels cold. “I don’t understand…”
“Look, we did what we were supposed to do, and now I think we’re good to end it. You can get back to your life.”
Maybe Oscar doesn’t want that. But maybe it’s not up to him.
“Lando…”
His voice is so small and so lost, and he feels pathetic for it.
He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand where this is coming from. If Lando was going to end their agreement, then why did he want Oscar to fly to Austria? To make it hurt, maybe, but he doesn’t know why Lando would do that.
Either way, Oscar feels like he’s been split in two. Or maybe it’s like someone’s reached into his chest and ripped his heart out, crushing it cruelly between their fingers, well and truly breaking it.
And maybe, maybe that really did happen because Oscar sort of feels like he’s dying.
But he hears his broken heart still beating, so he’s not dead, though he wonders if being dead would be easier. He wouldn’t feel this pain if he were dead.
It hurts. It hurts like nothing has ever hurt before. This is heartbreak. Genuine, real heartbreak.
What happens if you start to like him, Logan had asked when this whole thing started.
It won’t, Oscar remembers saying.
Yet it did.
“Lando,” Oscar’s voice cracks.
Lando meets his eyes, but there’s nothing there. He doesn’t look affected at all, like the tears in Oscar’s eyes don’t cut through his heart. He doesn’t care. Or maybe he’s just really good at hiding it.
“Tell me what I did,” Oscar pleads, the desperation making him feel sick, but he needs to know. He doesn’t believe Lando wants to end this out of nowhere. He had to have done something.
Lando shifts, and for a second, only a second, Oscar thinks he sees guilt and regret flash in Lando’s eyes. It’s gone way too fast for Oscar to be sure.
“You didn’t do anything. We did what we were meant to do, and that’s it,” Lando says, voice rough. Detached, almost.
“But we haven’t,” Oscar tries arguing.
Lando blows out a breath, one that sounds frustrated and angry. “I can’t be worried about a fake relationship while in the middle of a championship fight.”
Oh.
Oscar’s heart cracks again. He wonders if Lando’s aware of how easily he’s forming fault lines in his heart. Wonders if Lando knows those words cut deeper than the sharpest knife.
Fake relationship.
The worst part is that Lando isn’t even wrong. This is a fake relationship. But nothing about this ever felt fake, and perhaps that’s why it hurts so much.
If he were braver, maybe he’d say something. Maybe he’d tell Lando how he feels. Maybe he’d fight. Yet Lando obviously doesn’t feel the same, so it’s not even worth it. Oscar refuses to make a bigger fool of himself.
“Okay,” he whispers, nodding to himself. “Okay.”
The tears threaten to fall, but Oscar refuses to let that happen. Refuses to let Lando see him cry. He won’t cry over this. There’s no reason for him to.
He walks toward the hotel door. Stops. Hopes Lando will call out for him. Will reach for him. Nothing happens. Lando’s made his choice.
“I hope it’s everything you’ve ever wanted,” slips past Oscar’s lips before he can stop it. “I hope you win.”
He slips out of the room. Leaves his heart behind. Leaves it with the first person who ever managed to steal it.
The first tear is finally freed.
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He looks at the hundreds of pictures he and Lando took together on the flight home. There are so many times when his finger hovers over the delete button, but he can’t bring himself to actually do it. Instead, he just looks at the pictures and only hurts himself more.
There are pictures he doesn’t even remember taking. Pictures Lando must have taken without Oscar realizing.
He shuts off his phone. It’s all too much.
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Logan, unfortunately, is home when Oscar arrives. Logan takes one look at Oscar’s face and is already on his feet, moving toward him.
“Oscar…”
“Don’t,” Oscar’s voice trembles. “You were right. You were right. I’m so fucking stupid.”
Logan’s face is unbearably sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”
Oscar chuckles humorlessly, reaching up to wipe his eyes. “Well, I should have listened to you.”
He avoids Logan’s hug and walks into his room. He faceplants on his bed, face centimeters away from the koala Lando got him for his birthday. He wants to burn the stupid thing. Wants to throw it off his apartment building.
He cries into it instead.
He went and actually developed feelings for his fake boyfriend. It was always going to end one way.
Oscar should have known better. Should have been smarter.
This is only on him.
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“But I flew home anyway,
with so much left to say.”
— Ruin the Friendship, Taylor Swift
There’s knocking on his door. Oscar tries to ignore it. The knocking continues. He lets out an irritated huff, lowering the headphones from his ears.
“Logan, I told you I don’t want to talk!”
There’s no response. Oscar furrows his eyebrows. Alright, then. Maybe Logan walked away. As Oscar is about to put his headphones back on, there’s a knock.
Logan’s fucking with him now. Oscar’s not in the mood for games.
Oscar reluctantly pushes himself off his bed, marching over toward his door and ripping it open a bit too violently. “Logan, I told you—”
His sentence dies. Logan isn’t the one standing there.
It’s Lando.
Oscar’s first thought: he shouldn’t be here.
His second, why the fuck is he here?
“I fucked up,” are the first words out of Lando’s mouth.
Oscar doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what to do. All he does is stand there, blinking stupidly.
“I never should have let you walk out of that hotel room,” Lando continues, face flushed. Oscar wonders what it’s from.
“Logan let you in?” Oscar asks, peering around Lando to look for Logan, but Logan’s nowhere to be seen.
“It took some persuading,” Lando says, and any other time, there might have been a smile on his face, but not this time. Lando looks nothing but serious now, if not determined.
“Can’t imagine what you said to him,” Oscar mutters.
“The truth.”
“And what is the truth, Lando?”
“That I like you,” Lando answers without hesitation.
Oscar blinks, then laughs. “Right.”
Lando doesn't seem deterred, the mocking laugh apparently not affecting him. “Oscar, I do. I do. And I know I’m going about this in the worst way possible, but I couldn’t let you think what I said in that hotel room was true.”
It hurts to think about that. Oscar doesn’t want to think about that any more than he has to. Still, he asks, “So why?”
“Because I thought letting you go was easier than having to hear you say you didn’t feel the same.”
Oscar stares. He stares longer than he probably should. Lando doesn’t look away, keeping his eyes on Oscar’s. He’s being sincere. His eyes are practically pleading for Oscar to believe him. To trust him.
And Oscar—Oscar has never felt so confused.
“You didn’t even try,” Oscar points out. “You should have said something.”
“I should’ve,” Lando agrees easily.
There’s a momentary silence after that. Oscar’s head spins as he tries to process what is happening. Lando is in his apartment, apparently confessing, while he has a race in less than twenty-four hours.
“You have a race,” Oscar says stupidly.
“I know.”
“It’s important for the championship.”
Lando flinches at that, and maybe Oscar said it just because he knew it would hurt. It doesn’t bring him any satisfaction. He just feels guilty.
“Probably deserved that,” Lando murmurs, and as Oscar opens his mouth, Lando chooses to continue. “I didn’t mean what I said about the championship, and I’m so fucking sorry for ever saying it. You never were just a fake boyfriend. You were—are—everything.”
Oscar’s stomach clenches, the pain still feeling like an open wound. Lando’s words from Austria have constantly been replaying in his head. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
He doesn’t seem very capable of speaking many words because only a quiet “Lando” falls from his lips.
“I had to come here. I couldn’t wait,” Lando’s hand twitches like he wants to reach for Oscar’s hand but stops himself. “I didn’t want to lose any chance I had at trying to fix this.”
“Fix?” Oscar asks quietly.
Lando shrugs, a weak smile on his lips. “If there was the slightest chance I could make things right, I had to take it.”
Oscar’s hand comes up to his shirt, clutching it just above his heart. The words squeeze his heart, but it isn’t painful.
“You could miss the race for this,” Oscar goes back to the race thing, not knowing why. “For me.”
“And it’d be worth it,” Lando responds seriously.
Oscar’s heart soars. He wants to say something but can’t, just staring into Lando’s vulnerable and hopeful eyes. It’s surreal that Lando’s actually here, standing in his room, after flying for over twenty hours just to see him and apologize.
People don’t just do that for anyone.
Lando likes him. Genuinely likes him.
For the first time leaving Austria, Oscar isn’t burning.
“I like you, Lando,” Oscar confesses, words that he’s thought maybe a hundred times before but never said aloud. “I have for a while now.”
Lando sucks in a sharp breath like he’s just been told life-changing news, and well, maybe it is. His expression morphs into one of relief, but there’s still hope shining in his eyes.
And then he does what Oscar wasn’t expecting at all and laughs, saying, “God, I’m so fucking stupid.”
Oscar’s lips twitch. “Maybe just a bit.”
“I’m so stupid,” Lando repeats, groaning, looking quite pissed at himself.
Oscar reaches for his hand, and it’s just instinct the way their hands automatically curl around each other. Lando exhales shakily, his eyes on their hands, like he’s trying to commit it to memory. Maybe he thought he’d never do this again. And maybe Oscar thought the same.
He’s glad to have been wrong.
“I’m sorry, Oscar,” Lando whispers, remorse clouding his eyes.
“It’ll be alright,” Oscar responds, because even though the pain is still raw, it will pass. It will heal.
“I’m not too late?”
“I reckon you’re just on time.”
“So if I wanted to kiss you, you’d kiss back?” Lando questions, stepping closer.
Oscar forgoes words, reaching with his free hand to tug at Lando’s shirt, pulling him closer until they’re kissing. Lando’s free arm winds around him, pressing him closer, and the way their lips move in sync feels like coming home. It’s enough and not enough at the same time. Oscar just wants to be as close as possible.
This kiss isn’t like any of their other ones. It’s not a quick peck for the cameras. This kiss opens the door to a whole new world, a world where they’re a couple and not just faking it. This kiss is real. This kiss means everything.
Lando breaks the kiss, and Oscar immediately chases after him, maybe a bit desperately, but he doesn’t care at all. He wants to kiss Lando all night. Wants to do things he’s been thinking about doing for weeks.
“You’re wearing it,” Lando says, almost mystified, and Oscar glances down at his wrist to see the bracelet Lando gave him on his birthday.
“Oh,” Oscar ducks his head shyly. “I guess taking it off meant things would be over and I didn’t want that.”
Lando looks like he wants to say something, but all he does is pull Oscar into a kiss that leaves him weak in the knees. It’s really only Lando’s arm around him that keeps him upright.
“I like you,” Lando murmurs against his lips. “I really, really like you, Oscar.”
“I really like you,” Oscar returns, smiling so widely his cheeks hurt.
“And you want to do this with me? For real?”
“More than anything.”
Lando steals a quick kiss, eyes shining like starlight. “Oscar?”
“Yeah?”
“I got everything I wanted.”