Chapter Text
Did Lando like parties? Absolutely. He loved them.
That habit, however, slowly faded after he started dating a boy named Oscar Piastri.
It all began when they happened to share the same gym for PE class. That was the moment Lando found himself captivated by a boy with soft, wavy brown hair parted neatly down the middle, a few loose strands falling effortlessly across his forehead. The kind of boy who wasn't even trying to stand out, yet somehow managed to steal Lando's attention anyway.
To be fair, Lando was fairly well-known around school. He was the definition of a social butterfly, the kind of person who almost never turned down an invitation to a party. Life was simply better with blaring music, flashing lights, and laughter echoing through the room. Besides, who in their right mind would say no to a good night out?
And honestly? He hoped life would stay that way forever.
Parties. Fun. No responsibilities.
Most importantly, no thinking about the fact that one day his father fully expected him to take over the family business. Seriously. Could someone please remind Mr. Norris that Lando wasn't his only son?
He had an older brother who was far more responsible, far more respectable, and—if you asked Lando—far more qualified to run the company. So why him?
Anyway.
Back to the day Lando first saw Oscar—the boy whose name he didn't even know back then.
The school gym buzzed with the usual chaos of PE class. Sneakers squeaked against the polished wooden floor, the coach's whistle pierced through the noise every few minutes, and students complained endlessly about having to run laps instead of sitting around doing absolutely nothing.
Lando, naturally, belonged to the second group. He stood at the very back with his friends, chatting away and throwing jokes around that earned more laughs than they probably deserved.
Until, without meaning to…
His eyes drifted to the other side of the gym.
A boy was sitting on the bleachers, leaning forward to tie his shoelaces. His wavy brown hair, parted down the middle, fell over his forehead, making him brush it back every now and then before focusing on the laces again, which somehow seemed far more interesting than the noise echoing throughout the gym.
Lando stared a little longer than he probably should have.
"Dude?"
No response.
"Lando."
Still nothing.
It wasn't until someone shoved his arm that he finally snapped out of it.
"What?"
"Who are you staring at?"
Almost immediately, Lando looked away.
"No one."
Lie.
Because for the past few seconds, his eyes had kept drifting back to the same boy.
It was almost ironic. Out of everyone in the gym, it was the one person doing absolutely nothing who somehow managed to steal Lando Norris' entire attention.
After that day, Lando became convinced he'd caught some kind of strange disease. An obsession with a brown-haired boy whose name he didn't even know.
The disease started with him spending more than two hours in his room trying to find the boy's Instagram account. Bravo, Lando Norris. Two whole hours glued to his phone, still wearing his school uniform, and he hadn't even bothered changing his clothes. Give him a round of applause, everyone.
When he finally found the account, it honestly felt like winning the lottery.
Oscar Piastri.
Oh.
So that was his name.
The excitement lasted for all of a minute before regret quickly followed. Why hadn't he just asked someone? Or at least looked through the school directory? Instead, he'd spent two hours scrolling through hundreds of Instagram posts, hopping from one account to another—friends, friends of friends, and even students he'd never spoken to in his life. Congratulations. Lando Norris was officially an idiot.
Oscar's Instagram, unfortunately, wasn't very exciting.
There was only one post on his feed—a picture of himself during a trip to Japan a few months ago. That was it. His highlights weren't much better. There was only one, simply titled "🐈", filled entirely with photos of cats. Stray cats, neighbourhood cats, or maybe just random cats he'd come across while walking around.
Boring.
At least, that was what Lando thought for the first five seconds. Because not long after, he somehow found himself rewatching every single story in that cat highlight.
Three times.
"Cute," he muttered.
He meant the cats. Obviously. Right?
And yeah, Lando can tell the rest of that story another time. The important part is this: they're dating now.
Lando, who used to disappear to parties almost every weekend, gradually left that life behind after he started dating Oscar during their final year of high school. Instead, he spent more and more nights in Oscar's room—a habit that somehow followed them all the way into university, where they were both in their sixth semester, studying completely different majors. Oscar was buried in Computer Science, while Lando somehow ended up in Business Administration.
Whether it was studying together, watching movies that almost always ended with Oscar falling asleep halfway through, or simply
keeping him company while he worked on yet another report and Lando complained about being bored, everyone around them knew one thing.
Lando Norris was hopelessly in love with Oscar Piastri.
But every relationship has its rough patches, no matter how small.
Right now, Lando had somehow convinced himself that maybe—and he'd really appreciate it if everyone mentally underlined that word—Oscar didn't love him anymore. His friends kept saying the same thing. "Nothing's different. He's still Oscar. Quiet... and, well, quiet."
THAT WASN'T HELPING.
Lando knew Oscar was quiet. Reserved, even. Around other people, anyway. But never with him. Never with his family. And definitely not with the grand total of two friends Oscar actually considered close.
So yes, Lando was serious.
Lately, Oscar had been treating him the same way he treated everyone else. Polite. Kind. Distant. Was it really that unreasonable for Lando to think Oscar had stopped loving him, even though they'd made out in Oscar's apartment just two days ago?
But—once again, Lando felt the need to emphasize this—they had only kissed.
That was it.
No sex.
Which was... unusual.
AND LANDO WAS STRESSING THE HELL OUT OVER IT.
Maybe it had all started when Oscar got busy.
Sixth semester wasn't exactly forgiving. Between his capstone project, internship reports, and an endless stream of assignments, Oscar barely seemed to have time to breathe. His desk had long disappeared beneath stacks of papers, notebooks, and sticky notes.
Lando understood. He really did.
Well... he was trying to.
He was a sixth-semester student too. He knew what deadlines, presentations, and professors with an unhealthy obsession for group projects felt like. The difference was that Oscar simply had more on his plate.
And the busier Oscar became, the less time they spent together. Texts that used to be answered within minutes now took hours.
Dinner dates became, "Sorry, I've still got a deadline.”
Video calls that used to last until one of them fell asleep now barely lasted a few minutes before Oscar sighed and said, "I'm gonna get back to work, okay?"
BUT LANDO COULD JUST SIT THERE AND LOOK AT HIM WITHOUT DISTRACTING HIM.
He wasn't lying. Lando really would stay quiet. Just like he used to back in high school. Whenever exam season rolled around and Oscar had to stay up studying, Lando would whine until Oscar agreed to video call him. Not because he wanted to talk. Not because he wanted to interrupt. He simply wanted to watch Oscar sitting at his desk, frowning whenever he got stuck on a difficult question or absentmindedly chewing on the end of his pen while he thought.
He'd happily do it all over again. He'd let Oscar work away on his laptop while he simply admired him from the other side of the screen, watching his face lit only by the warm glow of the desk lamp, with faint moonlight slipping through the balcony window and the sheer white curtains swaying gently in the night breeze.
Lando didn't need Oscar to keep talking to him. Just seeing him was enough.
At least, it used to be.
Because now, even that was becoming harder to have. Oscar still replied to his texts. He still told him, "Good morning," and, "Don't forget to eat." He still kissed Lando's cheek every time they met.
And yet... something was missing.
Lando hated the fact that he couldn't even explain what it was.
Even now, in Oscar's apartment, all he could do was wait. Wait for Oscar to stop typing on his laptop while he lay sprawled across the bed that had long since become just as familiar as his own.
"Babe are you almost done?" he asked softly.
"Just a minute." Oscar didn't even look away from the screen.
Fifteen minutes.
Thirty.
Forty.
Eventually, Oscar closed his laptop, and for one brief, hopeful second, Lando thought they'd finally get to spend some time together.
Instead, Oscar simply collapsed onto the bed beside him.
"Sorry... I'm tired."
That was all he managed before sleep claimed him.
Lando? All he could do was stare at the man lying beside him, still wrapped in his oversized hoodie, too tired to even pull Lando into his usual goodnight hug. For a moment, he considered waking him up.
To talk to him. About anything. Even five minutes would've been enough. But the faint dark circles beneath Oscar's eyes made him think twice.
Instead, Lando gently pulled the blanket over Oscar's shoulders before lying back down beside him. Somehow, the ceiling suddenly seemed far more interesting to look at than his own boyfriend.
Lando let out a quiet sigh. He knew none of this was Oscar's fault. He knew that. Oscar was genuinely exhausted. But understanding the reason didn't make the ache in his chest disappear.
Slowly, he scooted closer, slipping an arm around Oscar's waist. Oscar didn't even stir. His breathing remained slow and steady, warm against the quiet room, just like it always was.
Lando pressed a soft kiss to his temple.
"Good night, osc.” he whispered before finally closing his own eyes beside the man he loved.
–
The next morning, Oscar was right back where he'd been the night before, eyes glued to the laptop in front of him. Ignoring Lando. Again.
By the time Lando cracked his eyes open, Oscar was already sitting at his desk, the familiar glow of his laptop lighting up the room.
"Morning, babe." Lando mumbled, his voice still rough with sleep.
"Morning," Oscar replied without looking away from the screen.
"Still working on yesterday's assignment?"
Oscar gave a small nod. "Yeah. Deadline's tomorrow."
Silence settled between them.
Oscar's fingers never stopped moving across the keyboard before he spoke again. "You should go have breakfast first. There's food in the fridge, just heat it up. Or there's cereal if you don't feel like it."
"You're not eating? I'll feed you," Lando said as he pushed himself off the bed, already making his way toward the kitchen.
"I'll eat later."
"When's later, babe?"
"When I'm done?" Oscar finally looked over at him, his expression carrying that quiet, pleading look Lando could never say no to. Lando could only nod.
He was hopeless whenever Oscar looked at him like that. Alright. It was fine. He'd have breakfast by himself, accompanied by whatever happened to be on TV that weekend morning.
He quietly made his way into the kitchen, carefully closing the bedroom door behind him so the television wouldn't disturb Oscar.
Opening the fridge just like Oscar had told him to, he found a container of pasta waiting inside, a small sticky note attached to the lid.
Don't forget to heat it up. —Osc
Lando frowned.
When had Oscar made this? As far as he remembered, they'd ordered takeout the night before, and Oscar had practically passed out the second he closed his laptop. Did he seriously wake up early just to cook for him?
Even in the middle of everything, Oscar had still found the time to make him breakfast.
A smile tugged at the corner of Lando's lips before he even realized it.
Really, who needed cereal when your boyfriend had gone through the trouble of making you pasta?
See?
Oscar still remembered.
Oscar still cared.
Lando heated up the pasta, stealing occasional glances toward the bedroom door. Maybe if he ate slowly enough, Oscar would finish before breakfast was over. Maybe they could still sit together for a little while. Unfortunately, that never happened.
Fifteen minutes passed, and Oscar still hadn't come out. The pasta on Lando's plate was long gone. His glass of orange juice held only a few drops, and the cartoon he'd been watching had changed more times than he could count—though, to be fair, that was only because he'd gotten bored and kept changing the channel himself.
The bedroom door remained shut.
Lando let out a quiet sigh before carrying his empty plate over to the sink.
Not long after, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming from the room. Lando immediately looked up, the smile he'd been holding onto finally making its way onto his face.
"Oh, you're done?"
Oscar gave a small shake of his head. "I just came out to grab some coffee."
The smile on Lando's face immediately softened into a small nod.
"Oh..."
Without being asked, he reached for a mug and poured Oscar a cup of coffee.
"Thanks, babe." Oscar murmured as he took it from him.
Then he went back into the room. The door closed again. The smile on Lando's face quietly faded.
And as it turned out, that morning wasn't the last. Because the days that followed passed in almost the same pattern. Oscar grew busier and busier, while Lando grew more and more used to waiting.
–
That afternoon, Lando stopped by Oscar's apartment after spending the entire day stuck at his father's company—and seriously, could someone please tell that old man that Lando absolutely hated him? The least he could do was let his son breathe every once in a while.
In one hand, he carried two cups of coffee. In the other, a small paper bag filled with pastries he'd picked up from their favorite bakery. He figured Oscar would like them.
And, of course, Oscar didn't even notice Lando had walked into the apartment.
"Babe, I'm here," Lando called out cheerfully as he spotted his boyfriend in the living room, once again completely absorbed in his laptop.
"Hey, babe."
"C'mon, take a break for a bit. I brought coffee... and some pastries."
"I'll eat later."
Later?
WHEN WAS "LATER"?
Lando genuinely wanted to scream.
"When's later, babe? Your coffee's gonna get cold."
Oscar let out a quiet sigh before finally looking up. "Just leave it there, okay? I still have work to do. Everything will be over by next week. I promise."
"Okay." That was all Lando could say.
Because Oscar had said the exact same thing last week. After that, the conversation died. The only sounds left in the apartment were Oscar's fingers dancing across the keyboard, interrupted every so often by another notification from his laptop.
Lando sat on the couch for a few minutes, slowly sipping his coffee. Waiting. Hoping Oscar would suddenly say,
"I'll be done in a minute." Or maybe, "Let's eat after this, okay?"
But those words never came.
Eventually, Lando threw away his empty coffee cup, quietly said goodbye, and headed back to his own apartment.
The moment his front door clicked shut behind him, his phone buzzed. A message lit up the screen.
Carlos
Party tonight? Haven't seen you in ages.
Lando stared at the text for a long moment.
Normally, he would've replied with the same answer he always did. “Sorry, can't. I'm hanging out with Oscar.” Then Carlos would spend the next five minutes making fun of him for being hopelessly whipped. Strangely enough, Lando had never minded.
His fingers were already hovering over the keyboard, ready to type the same excuse as always. But then he stopped. For the first time, he realized he was standing in his own apartment. Not Oscar's.
And what hurt even more. He didn't actually have any plans with his boyfriend tonight. The only thing echoing in his mind was what Oscar had said just a few minutes earlier.
"I still have work to do."
Lando stared at his screen for another moment before deleting the words he'd already started typing. Instead, he wrote—
Lando
I'm in.
Alright.
If Oscar was too caught up in his own world to make time for him, then maybe just for tonight, Lando could try finding his way back to his own.