Archive of Our Own

1.

Lando woke with a groan, pried from sleep by the shrill sound of his alarm. The day ahead already felt exhausting. Morning lectures at the university, followed immediately by a long shift at work. He hated days like this, the kind where every hour already belonged to someone else before he'd even gotten out of bed. With a sigh, he silenced the alarm and dragged himself upright. Coffee. That was the first priority. A lot of coffee. He shuffled out of his room, barefoot, the cold hardwood floor sending an unpleasant chill through him. He was already regretting every life choice that had led to him leaving the warmth of his blankets.

Oscar's bedroom door was closed. So he'd made it home sometime during the night after all. He hadn't been there when Lando had gone to bed. They'd been sharing the apartment for two months now. They'd both grown sick of dorm life, they both had part-time jobs, and both of their families helped cover the rent. So when they'd stumbled across a tiny two-bedroom apartment within walking distance of campus, they hadn't hesitated for a second. It wasn't much. Two cramped bedrooms, an even smaller bathroom, and a kitchen that blended into a living room barely big enough for the two of them. Still, it was home.

Knowing Oscar had morning classes too, Lando automatically reached into the cupboard for two mugs. His own oversized one, covered in every single Avenger imaginable, a gift from his brother when he'd announced he was moving from England to New York for university. And Oscar's. A black cat mug. Lando had bought it for him the day they'd moved in together. It had felt... fitting. He filled the kettle and set it on the stove, leaning against the counter while he waited for the water to boil.

A few months ago, nobody would've believed Lando Norris would ever be the first one awake. But then Oscar had landed an internship at Stark Industries. Even as "just an intern," his schedule was bizarre. Some nights he never came home. Other times he'd get called in sometime after midnight without warning. Whenever Lando asked, Oscar would just shrug and flash that impossibly innocent smile.

"Geniuses don't really sleep."

Lando never argued with him. Still… The dark circles under Oscar's eyes seemed to get worse every week. And that worried him more than he liked to admit. Because that's what they were. Friends… They'd met through mutual friends shortly after Lando moved to New York. Leaving England behind had been harder than he'd expected, and finding his footing in a city this enormous hadn't exactly come naturally. Luckily, one of the older students, Carlos, had shown their group around campus during orientation. They'd clicked almost immediately, and before long Carlos had dragged him to a house party hosted by one of his friends. That was where he'd met Oscar.

Looking at them now, it was hard to believe they'd become inseparable so quickly. Lando was loud, impulsive, endlessly distracted, always rushing headfirst into things without thinking. Oscar was patient, thoughtful, polite to a fault, the kind of person who always remembered birthdays and apologized when someone else stepped on his foot. Complete opposites. Maybe that was exactly why it worked. Oscar knew how to ground Lando whenever his thoughts spiraled. Lando, in return, had a talent for pulling Oscar out of his shell, coaxing laughter out of him when no one else could. They balanced each other. Needed each other. Somewhere along the way, though… Things had stopped feeling quite so simple. Neither of them had ever said anything out loud. Maybe they were both too afraid that if they reached for something more and it fell apart… they'd lose the friendship that had become the most important thing in either of their lives.

The kettle whistled sharply, pulling Lando from his thoughts. He pushed himself off the counter and poured hot water into both mugs. Coffee, milk. The only difference was that Oscar never took sugar. Just as he reached for the carton of milk, he heard a bedroom door creak open. Lando glanced over his shoulder and smiled. Oscar looked like he'd gotten home far too late. His hair stuck out in every direction, hopelessly messy, falling over the glasses perched on his nose. During the day he wore contact lenses. At home, though, he always switched back to his glasses. Lando had always thought they suited him better. He never complained about the contacts, not when he secretly liked knowing he was one of the very few people who ever got to see Oscar like this.

"Morning, sunshine."

Smiling, Lando held out a mug of coffee. Oscar accepted it with the kind of expression that made it look like Lando had just handed him the greatest treasure on Earth instead of a chipped black cat mug full of caffeine. He sank into one of the kitchen chairs, wrapped both hands around it, and took his first sip.

"Marry me," Oscar mumbled into the mug. "Please. I genuinely don't know how I survived before your coffee."

Lando snorted.

"That's a pretty weak proposal, Osc. Really weak." He took a sip from his own mug. "And it's literally just coffee."

"It tastes better than everyone else's."

"Oh, quit buttering me up." Lando nudged his shoulder with a grin. "I make it for you every morning anyway."

Oscar only smiled into his cup. Lando disappeared into his room long enough to swap his pajamas for an oversized sweater and a pair of loose jeans, something comfortable enough to survive several hours of lectures. Racing had always been the dream. Ever since he was a kid, he'd wanted nothing more than to become a professional driver. Then, when he was sixteen, everything changed. The accident had happened while he was in the car with his dad. He'd survived. But the damage to the parts of his brain responsible for balance had been permanent. Professional motorsport, hell, competitive sports in general, had become impossible overnight. For a long time, he'd thought that was the end of every future he'd imagined for himself. Instead, it had led him somewhere unexpected. Sports psychology. He'd discovered that helping athletes understand what happened inside their own minds fascinated him almost as much as driving once had. Which was how he'd ended up studying something he genuinely enjoyed. Even if it did involve sitting through lectures that felt never-ending. Freshened up and fully dressed, Lando stepped out of the bathroom, intending to finish the rest of his coffee. Oscar hadn't moved. He was exactly where Lando had left him, nose buried in a textbook, reading with the kind of intense concentration only Oscar Piastri seemed capable of before nine in the morning.

"Last-minute revision?" Lando asked, raising an eyebrow as he dropped into the chair beside him.

"You could call it that." Oscar sighed without looking up. "I was supposed to read this chapter earlier."

"And somehow forgot?"

Oscar finally glanced over with an almost guilty smile.

"Maybe."

Lando rested an elbow on the table.

"You've been forgetting a lot of things lately." Oscar's smile faltered. "I know this internship is incredible. Stark doesn't exactly hand them out to just anyone." Lando's voice softened. "But what's the point of working there if you end up burning yourself out before you even finish your degree?"

"Oh, come on." Oscar waved him off. "My grades are still the best in my year, my attendance is fine. I'm not exactly in danger of flunking out." Then that familiar grin spread across his face. "Besides..." He straightened with mock confidence. "I'm a genius. I'll manage."

Lando rolled his eyes despite himself.

"Yeah, yeah." Lando couldn't help smiling. "Get moving, genius. We need to leave in a few minutes."

Oscar drained the last of his coffee in one swallow, set the mug in the sink, and disappeared into his room. Lando watched the closed door for a second longer than he probably should have before quietly shaking his head to himself. One day, he thought, Oscar was going to work himself into the ground. And somehow Lando had the feeling there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse. It was cold, the sky hung low and heavy with dark clouds, and it looked like it could start pouring at any second. So instead of walking to campus like they usually did, Lando and Oscar caught the subway. It was only one stop, but it saved them a few precious minutes they'd happily wasted talking over coffee that morning. Their departments were on opposite sides of campus, so they split up not long after arriving. Sometimes their schedules lined up well enough that they could head home together. Not today. Lando had work after class, while Oscar finished his lectures hours earlier.

"See you tonight?" Lando asked as they reached the crossroads between their buildings.

Oscar adjusted the strap of his backpack and smiled.

"Yeah. Try not to fall asleep in class."

"No promises."

Oscar laughed softly before disappearing into the growing crowd of students. Lando watched him go for a moment before turning toward his own building. As usual, Lando claimed his favorite seat at the very back of the lecture hall. He could still hear everything perfectly, but nobody complained if he occasionally rested his head on the desk and let his mind drift somewhere far more interesting than the professor's slides. The morning passed without much excitement. During the break, he cracked open an energy drink and called it breakfast alongside a bread roll he'd picked up from the campus café and a chocolate bar. He could practically hear Oscar's voice in his head.

"You really need to eat something with actual nutritional value, Lando."

He dismissed the imaginary lecture just as quickly as it appeared. Future Lando could deal with healthier eating habits. Present Lando needed caffeine and sugar. By the time his final lecture ended, the weather had completely given up pretending. Rain hammered relentlessly against the pavement outside. Lando sighed, tugged his hood over his head, and hurried toward the subway station. He worked at a small independent movie theater a few stops away. It wasn't particularly far from campus, but walking there in weather like this sounded miserable. Thankfully, the job itself more than made up for it.

It wasn't especially demanding, his manager was flexible with university schedules, and the employee discount had become one of Lando's favorite perks. Every couple of weeks, he and Oscar made a point of picking a movie to watch together. Lately, finding time had become harder. Oscar's internship seemed to consume more and more of his life with every passing week. Even so… He always managed to carve out one evening every other week for Lando. No matter how exhausted he looked.

Lando tried not to think too hard about how much that meant to him. By the time he slipped through the employees' entrance at the back of the theater, he was soaked through. Rainwater dripped from the ends of his hair onto the floor.

"Brilliant," he muttered.

Thankfully, his uniform was in his backpack safe and dry.  He quickly changed into the dry red-and-white employee shirt before tying the matching apron around his waist. His damp clothes went straight onto the radiator in the staff room, though he doubted they'd be completely dry by the end of his shift. With one last resigned sigh, Lando headed out toward the concession stand. He wasn't remotely ready for several hours of smiling at customers. Especially since he was the one closing the theater that night.

— 

By the time Lando's shift finally ended, the rain had stopped. Unfortunately, his clothes hadn't had the same chance to recover. They were still damp from earlier, and the moment he stepped outside, the cold settled deep into his bones. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and checked the time. Great. Cleaning up had taken longer than usual. The last bus had already disappeared, and waiting for the next subway would actually take longer than simply walking home. With a resigned sigh, he slipped on his headphones, pulled his hood over them, and started the familiar walk back to the apartment. His pace was slow, almost absent-minded as he navigated the uneven pavement. The music filled his ears, loud enough to drown out everything else.

He didn't hear the police sirens approaching from around the corner. Didn't hear the screech of tires. Didn't notice the speeding car until flashing red and blue lights reflected in a shop window beside him. He turned instinctively. The fleeing vehicle had lost control. It was coming straight at him. There wasn't enough time to move. Lando squeezed his eyes shut. He braced for the impact, but it never came. Instead, an arm wrapped securely around his waist. The ground vanished beneath his feet. For one impossible second, he thought he was flying.

Maybe this was what dying felt like. Maybe someone simply came to collect you. The flight ended almost as quickly as it had begun. Solid ground returned beneath his feet, though whoever had caught him didn't let go immediately, one steady hand still resting against his side as if expecting him to collapse. Without opening his eyes, Lando asked quietly,

"Did I die?" A soft laugh answered him. His eyes flew open. "Oh." His mouth fell open. "My guardian angel is Spider-Man?"

Standing in front of him was New York's most famous masked hero, dressed in the unmistakable red-and-blue suit that seemed to appear everywhere trouble did. One hand rested on his hip. The other was still lightly supporting Lando.

"I'm definitely not an angel," Spider-Man said, amusement coloring his voice. "And you're definitely not dead." A beat passed. "But you came pretty close." His voice sounded… Oddly familiar. Not enough for Lando to place it, distorted ever so slightly by what was probably some kind of voice modulator built into the mask. Which made sense. If you wanted to keep your identity secret, disguising your voice was probably a good place to start. "You okay?"

Lando nodded slowly. His head was spinning a little. Then again, getting yanked through the air by webs probably wasn't ideal when you already had a damaged brain.

"Yeah..." he muttered. "Just a little dizzy. Nothing serious. It happens sometimes." He blinked, finally taking in his surroundings. "...I'll just sit down for a second."

That was when he realized they were standing on the roof of a building. Below them came the distant chorus of sirens, shouting officers, and gathering crowds. Spider-Man didn't remove his hand until Lando had lowered himself carefully onto the cold concrete.

"You didn't hear the police?" Spider-Man asked, his tone noticeably sharper now. "You didn't see that car? You could've been killed."

Lando frowned. He wasn't entirely sure why the superhero sounded so upset. Or why he'd carried him all the way onto a rooftop instead of simply pulling him onto the sidewalk. He pushed his hood back, revealing the headphones now hanging loosely around his neck. The cable had come unplugged somewhere along the way. He instinctively patted his pocket. His phone was still there. Thank God.

"I was listening to music." Lando admitted sheepishly. "Pretty loudly."

It came out sounding less like an explanation and more like a child confessing to their parents. Spider-Man folded his arms.

"Has nobody ever told you not to wear headphones that loud while you're walking around the city? You need to hear what's happening around you. It's dangerous."

Lando laughed despite himself.

"My friend tells me that all the time." He tilted his head, smiling. "You sound exactly like him."

For the briefest moment… Spider-Man went completely still. His shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly beneath the suit. Then, just as quickly, the moment passed.

"Is your head feeling any better?" he asked instead.

Lando nodded.

"Yeah."

Spider-Man stepped closer.

"Good. Let's get you back down."

Lando slowly climbed to his feet. The dizziness had mostly faded. His enthusiasm for another web-swinging trip, however… Not so much.

"I don't suppose there are stairs?" he asked hopefully. "I think they'd be healthier for me."

Spider-Man laughed.

"I'll take it slow. No swinging. Straight down, nice and easy." He paused before adding, "And maybe skip the headphones for the rest of today."

Before Lando could object, Spider-Man slipped an arm around his waist again. Instinctively, Lando grabbed onto him in return. Mostly because falling off a rooftop seemed like an even worse alternative. A few moments later, they landed lightly in a quiet alley below. This time, Lando's legs held steady. He looked up at the masked hero and smiled, still a little dazed.

"Thanks." A nervous laugh escaped him. "You know... for saving my life."

Spider-Man rubbed the back of his neck.

"Just doing my job." Then, with a teasing tilt of his head, he added, "Try not to step in front of any more speeding cars, okay? Makes my life a lot easier."

"I'll do my best."

Lando barely had time to blink. A web shot skyward. Spider-Man launched himself into the night, disappearing from rooftop to rooftop until he was nothing more than a red-and-blue blur against the city lights. Lando stood there for another few seconds, staring after him. Then he smiled to himself. New York really was insane.

— 

By the time Lando got home, he'd completely forgotten about the cold. Forgotten about the long shift. Forgotten that his clothes were still damp. There was only one thing he wanted to do. Tell Oscar. Oscar was sprawled across the couch, half-watching some late-night TV show when the apartment door flew open.

"You are not going to believe what happened!" Lando barely stopped long enough to kick off his shoes. "I almost got hit by a car!"

Oscar was off the couch before the sentence had even finished.

"What?" He was standing beside Lando in an instant. "What do you mean almost?"

His voice was tight. To anyone else, it might've sounded like simple concern. Lando knew better. Oscar's brain had probably already imagined half a dozen worst-case scenarios.

"So," Lando began, talking a mile a minute, "I was walking home from work, wearing my headphones…which, yes, before you say anything, I know I shouldn't have had the music that loud…"

Oscar crossed his arms.

"I wasn't going to interrupt." Lando just looked at him with a smile "...Fair."

Lando grinned.

"Anyway, I'm walking, then I catch these police lights reflected in a shop window, turn around, and this car is suddenly flying straight at me." He threw both hands dramatically into the air. "So I basically accepted my fate..." He paused for effect. "...and then…whoosh! I was on top of a building."

Oscar blinked.

"What?"

"Spider-Man saved me!"

For a second, Oscar simply stared at him. Then he exhaled slowly through his nose.

"Lando." He gently took hold of Lando's arm and guided him toward the couch. "Sit." Lando obeyed without protest. "But you're okay?" Oscar asked quietly. "You weren't hurt?"

"No." Lando waved dismissively. "Not even a scratch. I got a little dizzy afterward, but it went away."

Oscar didn't look remotely reassured.

"You know," he said carefully, "you're not exactly someone who gets to ignore dizziness."

Lando sighed dramatically.

"Try getting hauled across the city on a spiderweb."

Oscar let out an involuntary laugh. Then immediately raised a hand in surrender.

"Okay. Fair point. I imagine that's not exactly vestibular-therapy approved."

"It really isn't." Lando leaned back into the couch. "Seriously. I wouldn't recommend it."

Oscar shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Sometimes I think you should come with a warning label."

"Hm?"

"'Requires adult supervision at all times.'"

Lando gasped theatrically.

"Rude."

"I'm serious." Oscar folded his arms. "Trouble seems to find you with alarming consistency."

Lando shrugged.

"What can I say? I'm just so interesting even disasters want to spend time with me."

Oscar rolled his eyes.

"You're impossible."

"And yet you keep me around."

Oscar didn't answer. Instead, he stepped closer and gently cupped Lando's chin, turning his face toward the light. Lando frowned.

"Osc?"

"Your pupils are a little dilated."

Oscar's voice slipped into that calm, clinical tone Lando knew all too well.

"Probably adrenaline."

"But humor me." He placed one finger just in front of Lando's nose before slowly moving it to the side. "Follow my finger."

Lando groaned.

"I'm fine."

"I know. Humor me anyway."

Still grumbling under his breath, Lando obediently tracked Oscar's finger with his eyes. Ever since Lando had first told him about the accident, about the permanent damage to the parts of his brain responsible for balance, Oscar had become something of an expert. He'd read medical textbooks. Research papers. Anything he could get his hands on. Whenever Lando took a knock to the head or complained about dizziness, Oscar immediately slipped into unofficial doctor mode. It was wildly unnecessary. Lando hadn't developed any new symptoms in years. The dizziness. The balance issues. His inability to navigate in complete darkness. The way even a little alcohol made standing upright feel like an Olympic event. That was it. Nothing had changed. Oscar still checked anyway. Every single time. After another moment, Oscar lowered his hand with a satisfied nod.

"Well?" Lando pressed both hands dramatically over his heart. "Doctor..." He looked up with exaggerated hope. "Am I going to live?"

Oscar couldn't help smiling.

"Diagnosis?" He patted Lando's knee. "Healthy as a horse. My prescription is one quiet night on the couch..." He stood. "and reheated Chinese food. I picked some up on my way home. I was waiting for you before warming it up."

Lando's entire face lit up.

"Oscar Piastri..." He threw himself back against the couch cushions. "I love you."

The words slipped out so naturally neither of them had time to stop them. Oscar froze. Just for a heartbeat. Then, without turning around, he disappeared into the kitchen.

"Yeah," he said a little too quickly. "You'd better.”

Lando, blissfully unaware of the way Oscar's ears had turned bright red, simply smiled to himself. Best roommate ever.

2. 

"So what was I supposed to do?" Oscar threw his hands into the air. "I had to save him! He's my..." He caught himself. "best friend. I'd do anything for him, and he almost got crushed by a car. Right in front of me. I don't even want to think about what would've happened if I hadn't been there."

Oscar was sprawled across the couch in Tony Stark's workshop, doing far more complaining than observing. Technically, he was supposed to be watching his mentor work. Instead, he'd spent the last ten minutes replaying the same story from three different angles. Tony, to his credit, hadn't kicked him out yet.

"Mhm." Tony held out a hand without looking up. "Three-eighths." Before he'd even finished speaking, Oscar had already placed the correct wrench in his hand. "There it is."

"And then," Oscar continued immediately, "I practically sprinted home before he got back. I had to pretend I had no idea what had happened. Pretend it wasn't me who saved him." He let out a long sigh and collapsed back onto the couch. "And I'm a terrible actor."

Tony tightened another bolt.

"Kid, you're worrying too much." 

Oscar made a face.

"I'm serious."

"So am I." Tony finally glanced over. "He didn't recognize you. Nobody recognized you. Your cover's still intact, and your roommate is alive. Sounds like a pretty successful evening to me."

Oscar looked unconvinced.

"I hate lying."

"I know."

"I hate lying to Lando even more." Oscar rubbed a hand over his face. "He's starting to notice things. I'm gone half the night. I come home with bruises that disappear before morning. He's not stupid. Give it another week and he's going to start asking questions."

Tony sighed, setting down the screwdriver.

"I told you this was a bad idea." Oscar looked up. "Living with someone you know while you're secretly Spider-Man? Terrible plan."

"I didn't exactly have a lot of options."

"New York has eight million people. I'm willing to bet at least one of them needed a roommate."

Oscar rolled his eyes.

"Very helpful."

"I thought so." Tony picked the screwdriver back up. "And for the record, if you stopped trying to save the entire city every single night, you'd probably come home with fewer bruises."

"I can't just stop."

"I didn't say stop." Tony pointed the screwdriver at him. "I'm saying maybe the city can survive one evening without you."

Oscar snorted.

"Somehow I don't think the criminals schedule around my nights off."

Tony smirked.

"They're very inconsiderate like that."

Oscar couldn't help smiling.

"I mean it, though." His expression softened again. "I hate keeping things from him."

Tony's own smile faded just a little. There was a brief silence before Tony broke it.

"But until you're ready to tell him and for the record, I don't think you are, you keep lying."

Oscar grimaced.

"I really hate that advice. You could at least pretend to feel bad."

"I did. Last Tuesday." Oscar laughed despite himself. "There we go." Tony pointed at him. "Much better."

Oscar shook his head.

"I'm not sure you're a very good mentor."

"I'm an excellent mentor."

"You literally just told me to become a better liar."

"I told you to stop getting caught."

Oscar opened his mouth before closing it again.

"That's somehow worse."

"It usually is."

Tony went back to work for another minute before speaking again.

"You know what else would help?"

Oscar looked over.

"What?"

Tony jerked his head toward the open window.

"Go swing around for a bit."

"I'm helping."

"No, not really kid.”

Oscar let out an exaggerated sigh.

"I'm not a kid anymore!” 

"Uh-huh."

"I'm an adult."

Tony looked at him over the top of his glasses.

"Sure you are."

Oscar folded his arms.

"I'm serious."

"So am I." Tony smirked. "Now go play Spider-Man."

Oscar stood, muttering under his breath.

"I'm not a kid."

"No," Tony called after him. "You're a kid with better web shooters." The older man grinned. "Oh, and if you're done saving the city for one night..." He waved a hand dismissively. "go spend the evening with your boyfriend."

"He's not my…." Tony held up a finger before Oscar could finish. 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Oscar groaned.

"I hate talking to you."

"No, you don't."

"No."

"Thought so."

Oscar rolled his eyes but couldn't quite hide his smile.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Stark."

"Try not to die, kid."

"I'll do my best."

With that, Oscar climbed out the open window. It wasn't until he landed on a nearby rooftop that he pulled on the Spider-Man suit. A second later, a web shot into the night, and he disappeared between the buildings. Oscar swung through the city on a strand of webbing, the wind rushing past him. This was the closest thing he had to freedom. Up here, above the traffic and the endless noise of Manhattan, everything else seemed to fade away. The constant pressure, the lies, the responsibility, it all quieted, if only for a little while. Or so he thought. He didn't realize where he'd ended up until he landed lightly on the rooftop of his apartment building. He let out a quiet sigh. The living room light was still on. Of course it was. The blinds were still open, too, despite the fact that Oscar had reminded Lando more times than he could count to close them at night. Not because anyone was likely to see anything interesting, mostly because it bothered him. The TV was off. Which probably meant Lando had forgotten to turn off the lights before going to bed. Probably. Oscar frowned. Something felt... off. It wasn't his spider-sense. That was different, sharp, instinctive, impossible to ignore. This was just… Lando.

After two years of knowing him, Oscar had developed a different kind of instinct when it came to his roommate. One that wasn't nearly as reliable as his spider-sense, but one he trusted all the same. He was about to head down, change into his regular clothes, and walk through the front door like any normal person. Instead, he made one last swing to the neighboring building, the one that offered enough cover for him to change unnoticed. As he landed, something caught his eye. The fire escape. Someone was sitting on it. Oscar's heart lurched. Lando.

"Seriously?"

He'd told him not to climb those stairs more times than he could remember. Together, they used them all the time. They'd climb to the roof with coffee and textbooks, spending hours studying beneath the skyline or, more often than not, talking until one of them realized it was well past midnight. But never alone. The fire escape was old, rusted, and looked like it was being held together by little more than stubbornness and peeling paint. For most people, it was probably just a bad idea. For Lando… With his balance issues? It was an accident waiting to happen. Oscar didn't even think before he was already moving toward him.

"Hey... you okay?"

Oscar landed lightly on one of the lower steps, keeping enough distance that he wouldn't startle him too badly. Too late. Lando nearly jumped out of his skin. His whole body went rigid before he looked up and recognized the red-and-blue suit.

"Oh." His shoulders visibly relaxed. "Spider-Man. Again." He laughed nervously. "Um... yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Totally fine."

His voice was too high. Too quick. Too forced. Maybe someone else would've believed him. Oscar had known Lando long enough to recognize one of his bad lies immediately.

"Then why are you sitting out here?" Spider-Man asked, tilting his head. "It's freezing." His gaze flicked toward the rusted fire escape. "And, no offense... this doesn't exactly look like the safest place to hang out."

What he wanted to say was, Lando, what the hell were you thinking? Instead, he settled for sounding mildly concerned. Spider-Man could be mildly concerned. Oscar would've been halfway through a lecture already. Lando rubbed the back of his neck.

"I was trying to get up to the roof." He smiled sheepishly. "I like it up there. When everything gets... loud, I guess..." He shrugged. "It's a nice place to get away from it all." His smile faded. "But I got dizzy and slipped."

He looked down at his hands instead of at Spider-Man. His cheeks were bright red. Maybe from the cold. Maybe from embarrassment. Oscar clenched his fists inside his gloves.

"The last time we met," he said carefully, "you mentioned you were dizzy then, too." Lando nodded. "Maybe..." Oscar continued, choosing each word with painful care, "you should stay away from rooftops for a while."

Lando let out a quiet laugh.

"That's probably good advice." He hesitated. "I was in an accident a few years ago." Oscar's heart sank. He knew. Of course he knew. "I hit my head pretty badly." Lando tapped the side of his temple. "Part of my brain, the bit that's responsible for balance, was permanently damaged." He said it so casually. Like he'd repeated those words enough times that they'd stopped meaning anything. "So I get dizzy sometimes." He shrugged again. "But Oscar..." He smiled without thinking. "My roommate, I mean, we come up here all the time. And I've climbed up here on my own before. It's never been a problem."

"Until tonight," Spider-Man finished quietly.

Lando looked away.

"Yeah."

"You were supposed to stop making my job so difficult, La…" Oscar bit the inside of his cheek so hard it hurt. That had been close. Too close. Lando frowned. Oscar recovered almost immediately. "I was going to ask your name."

"Oh." Lando smiled. "I'm Lando."

Spider-Man nodded once.

"Nice to officially meet you, Lando." For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Oscar looked back at him. "I still don't understand why you're just sitting here."

Lando laughed under his breath.

"Well..." He rubbed the back of his neck again. "I can't actually stand up."

Oscar's stomach dropped. He was at Lando's side in an instant.

"What happened?"

The question came out sharper than he'd intended. Lando blinked.

"I don't think it's anything serious."

"You don't know that."

"I've sprained this ankle before." He gestured vaguely toward his foot. "It feels about the same." He gave Spider-Man an apologetic smile. "I figured if I waited long enough, I'd eventually be able to hobble back inside."

Oscar stared at him.

"You were just... going to sit here?"

"I mean..." Lando looked around awkwardly. "That was the plan." Oscar closed his eyes for a second. Some days… Some days Lando Norris had absolutely no sense of self-preservation.

"Can I take a look?" Lando blinked. "I'm not a doctor." A beat. "But I've patched up enough sprained ankles to tell whether it's 'walk it off' or 'you should probably see someone with an actual medical degree.'"

Lando laughed.

"Fair enough.”

Oscar carefully rolled up the hem of Lando's jeans just enough to expose his ankle. It was already beginning to swell. He pressed gently along the outside of the joint.

"Tell me if anything hurts."

Lando snorted.

"I have a feeling you're about to make it hurt." Oscar pressed a little farther down. Lando hissed through his teeth. "Okay... yeah. That one."

"Hm." Oscar shifted his hand slightly. "And here?"

"Less."

"What about…"

Lando let out an exaggerated groan.

"Do superheroes always ask this many questions?"

"Only the handsome ones." That earned him a laugh. "There it is," Oscar said before he could stop himself.

Lando frowned.

"There what is?"

"The... uh..." Oscar scrambled for an explanation. "The laughing."

"Right."

Smooth. Real smooth. Oscar cleared his throat and focused on the ankle again.

"It doesn't feel broken."

Lando visibly relaxed.

"So I'm not dying?"

"Not unless you've got another speeding car hiding somewhere."

Lando laughed again.

"I'll try to avoid those."

"I'd appreciate it." Oscar carefully let go of his ankle and sat back on his heels. "I still don't think you should try walking on it.”

"Well..." Lando let out a quiet laugh. "If you brought me a blanket, I could probably sleep out here while I wait for Oscar." He shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Though, knowing him... he might not even be home until morning."

Oscar's chest tightened. He knew he'd been disappearing more often lately. That he'd been coming home after sunrise, making excuses about Stark Industries, promising himself he'd make it up to Lando "tomorrow." Tomorrow had somehow turned into weeks. Hearing Lando say it out loud hurt far more than he'd expected.

"I'll help you inside," Spider-Man said, his voice softer than before. "I'm not leaving you out here all night."

Before Lando could protest, Oscar slipped one arm beneath his knees and the other behind his back. Lando instinctively wrapped his arms around Spider-Man's shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut. Oscar couldn't help the quiet chuckle that escaped him.

"I wasn't planning on dropping you."

"I know," Lando muttered, not opening his eyes. "Doesn't mean I'm looking."

Oscar smiled beneath the mask. Fair enough. Carefully, he stepped onto the narrow fire escape platform.

"So..." he asked as he slowly maneuvered Lando toward the open window, "why didn't you call your friend? Or... anyone, really?"

Lando grimaced.

"I left my phone inside."

Oscar shook his head.

"You've got terrible luck."

"I've been told."

"You should probably start listening."

"I'll add it to the list." Oscar carefully helped him over the windowsill before letting him sit on the broad wooden ledge. Lando exhaled in relief. Spider-Man stayed outside, one hand still resting lightly on the window frame, making sure Lando was steady before letting go. "I can make it to the couch from here," Lando said. "Thanks." He looked up at the masked hero and smiled. "You've helped me out twice in a short time.”

Spider-Man rubbed the back of his neck.

"Like I said… It's kind of my job."

Lando nodded.

"I guess."

Oscar hesitated.

"For what it's worth… I hope we don't meet like this again." Lando tilted his head. "I mean..." Spider-Man continued, "I'd prefer not to have to keep rescuing you."

A grin spread across Lando's face.

"Can't promise anything."

Oscar laughed.

"Somehow, I had a feeling you'd say that."

Lando smiled back.

"Goodnight, Spider-Man."

"Goodnight, Lando."

Oscar pushed away from the fire escape with one last swing of his web. By the time Lando looked back out the window, he was already gone. Only the faint sway of a webline between two buildings proved he'd ever been there at all. Lando sighed. Balancing carefully on one foot, he hopped across the apartment toward the couch. He really hoped Oscar would be home soon. For some reason… Tonight, more than usual, he didn't want to be alone.

— 

Oscar had planned to wait a few minutes before going back .Long enough for Spider-Man to disappear and Oscar Piastri to come home. He would've helped Lando.  Maybe even convinced him to go to the ER and let someone take a look at his ankle. Instead, the distant wail of sirens cut through the night. Three police cruisers sped past the intersection below, lights flashing. Oscar didn't hesitate.

By the time he finally made it back to the apartment, it was a little after midnight. Honestly… Considering the night he'd had, that wasn't even particularly late. He unlocked the door as quietly as he could. Only the small lamp beside the couch was still on. He smiled to himself. Lando had finally gone to bed. ...Or so he thought. His smile disappeared the second he looked into the living room. Lando was curled up on the couch, fast asleep beneath a blanket. One leg stuck out awkwardly from underneath it, an ice pack that had long since melted resting forgotten against his swollen ankle. Oscar sighed.

"Idiot..."

The word was barely louder than a whisper. He crossed the room quietly before kneeling beside the couch. Up close, he could really look at him. Long eyelashes rested against cheeks still faintly pink. His skin carried that warm, golden glow it always seemed to have, as though he'd spent the weekend somewhere with actual sunshine instead of New York in the beginning of spring.  Oscar's eyes wandered over the familiar details he'd memorized months ago. The tiny freckles. The moles on his face.  The two pale scars running across the bridge of his nose, one close to his eyebrow, the other lower down. Reminders of one of Lando's many spectacularly unfortunate accidents. Oscar was exhausted. His shoulders ached. His ribs hurt. He hadn't realized what he was doing until his fingers were already brushing gently through Lando's curls. Slow. Careful. Almost absentmindedly.

"Lan..." His voice was barely audible. "Come on. You'll hate yourself in the morning if you spend the whole night on the couch."

Lando stirred.

"Osc?" His eyes stayed closed. "I wanted to wait for you." He yawned quietly. "I think I sprained my ankle..."

Oscar smiled despite himself.

"I know." The words left his mouth before he had time to stop them. His stomach dropped. Lando frowned sleepily. Oscar cleared his throat far too quickly. "I mean..." He pointed toward the blanket. "The ice pack's sticking out. I figured something must've happened."

Lando looked down.

"Oh...Right." Oscar slowly withdrew his hand from Lando's hair. Lando's nose scrunched ever so slightly, almost as though he'd noticed the warmth disappearing. Neither of them mentioned it. Lando pushed himself upright with a quiet groan before glancing at the clock on the wall. "You got home pretty early tonight." A sleepy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You might actually get some sleep."

Oscar didn't answer. Instead, he picked up the melted ice pack. His expression tightened the moment he saw the ankle beneath it. Purple. Swollen. Definitely worse than it had looked through Spider-Man's mask.

"Does it hurt? What did you do?” He really should become an actor, at this point. 

Lando rubbed the back of his neck.

"I, uh… I wanted to go up to the roof.” Oscar looked up. "I slipped." Lando smiled sheepishly. "I know what you're going to say. I shouldn't have gone up there alone. You've told me that a hundred times. I get it now."

Oscar let the silence stretch for a second.

"Does it hurt?" he asked again.

Lando laughed quietly.

"You really aren't letting that question go, huh?"

"No."

"It hurts. But not that much. I'm pretty sure it's just a sprain."

Oscar dragged both hands down his face.

"What am I going to do with you..." He shook his head. "If it's worse in the morning, or if the swelling gets any bigger, we're going to the ER. No arguments."

Lando nodded obediently.

"Deal." A comfortable silence settled between them. Then… "You know..." Lando smiled. "Spider-Man helped me again today." Oscar froze. "If it wasn't for him," Lando continued, completely oblivious, "you'd probably have had to carry me downstairs yourself." A quiet laugh escaped him. "He's different than I expected."

Oscar forced himself to keep breathing.

"Different?"

"Yeah." Lando tilted his head. "I've only met him twice, but..." He smiled to himself. "He's calmer than I thought he'd be." A beat. "And..." Oscar's pulse quickened. "Sometimes he talks exactly like you."

Everything inside Oscar seemed to stop. He stood so quickly the melted ice pack nearly slipped from his hand. He turned toward the kitchen before Lando could get a good look at his face.

"Well..." he said, forcing a laugh that sounded painfully unnatural even to his own ears. "I guess that's superheroes for you. One day they're fighting aliens. The next they're rescuing walking disasters who keep trying to fall off buildings."

Lando laughed.

"I wasn't trying to fall."

"Could've fooled me." Oscar busied himself opening the freezer. Anything to keep his back turned. Anything to stop himself from looking guilty. "I'll grab you a fresh ice pack," he said, trying to sound casual. "And then I'll help you to bed. Okay?"

For a long moment, there was no answer. Oscar glanced sideways. Lando was watching him. His head rested against the back of the couch, his brow furrowed ever so slightly as his eyes followed Oscar's every movement. For a terrifying second… Oscar thought he'd figured it out. Then Lando sighed. The crease between his eyebrows disappeared. A sleepy smile returned.

"Okay." A soft chuckle escaped him. "Thanks. You just saved my back."

Oscar smiled without turning around. He pulled another ice pack from the freezer. Thank God they'd bought a whole box.

3.

Lando stood outside the movie theater, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket. For once, the weather had decided to cooperate. The air was warm enough that he could finally convince himself spring had arrived, and instead of waiting inside, he lingered on the sidewalk, letting the afternoon sun settle over him. He didn't mind waiting. Not today. Oscar had actually managed to carve out an afternoon just for them. After weeks of conflicting schedules and late nights, they were finally going to see the Korean horror film they'd been talking about for month, a limited screening that was only playing locally for one weekend.

Lando had been looking forward to it all week. Maybe even longer than that. Because it wasn't really about the movie. It was about getting Oscar back, even if only for a couple of hours. Lately, it felt like Oscar spent more time away from the apartment than in it. Some nights he never came home at all. Other nights he'd slip through the front door sometime before dawn, only long enough to catch a few hours of sleep before disappearing again. One night, Lando had been woken by the sound of something crashing in the living room. Still half-asleep, he'd stumbled into the hallway, convinced Oscar had come home drunk. Instead, he'd caught a glimpse of him disappearing into his bedroom. For just a second, Lando could've sworn he'd seen bruises on Oscar's face. Dark ones. Fresh ones. The next morning, they were gone. When he'd asked about them, Oscar had only smiled and told him he must've been dreaming. Lando had almost believed him. Almost. Until later that evening, when he'd gone to switch on the lamp in the living room and found the lightbulb shattered across the floor.

Oscar had lied. Again. That was becoming almost normal. At first, the excuses had sounded believable. Late meetings. Extra projects. Emergency calls from Stark Industries. Now… They barely made sense. No internship demanded this much. No company expected an intern to vanish for entire nights, survive on four hours of sleep, and somehow drink more coffee than Lando Norris. Which, frankly, should've been physically impossible. The irony wasn't lost on him. Oscar. The same Oscar who used to lecture him every single time breakfast consisted of an energy drink and a chocolate bar. The same Oscar who insisted sleep was important. Who reminded him to drink water. Who worried every time Lando mentioned another dizzy spell. Now he was the one ignoring every piece of advice he'd ever given.

Whenever Lando tried to bring it up, Oscar shut the conversation down before it had even begun. They hardly talked anymore. It was strange. You weren't supposed to miss someone who lived in the same apartment. Yet somehow… Lando missed Oscar more now than he had back when they lived in different dorm buildings. He missed evenings tangled beneath the same blanket while terrible movies played in the background. He missed Oscar laughing at jokes that weren't funny simply because Lando had told them. He missed the smile that always made Oscar's eyes disappear. He missed the familiar hands catching him by the waist every time his balance betrayed him. Now… Nobody caught him anymore. And somehow, the falls themselves didn't hurt nearly as much as realizing Oscar wasn't there to stop them.

There was no one asking if his head was still spinning after a bad day. No one quietly replacing his coffee with a glass of water. No one checking that he'd actually eaten lunch. It had annoyed him sometimes. He could admit that now. But somewhere along the way, Oscar had taught him what it felt like to have someone who cared, not because they had to… But because they genuinely wanted to. Lando had plenty of friends in New York. People he could call. People who cared about him. But Oscar… Oscar had become home. And standing outside the theater, waiting for someone who was already fifteen minutes late… Lando realized the truth he'd spent years pretending not to know. He didn't just miss his best friend. He missed the man he'd been hopelessly, quietly in love with for years.

— 

By the time Oscar rounded the corner onto the street where the movie theater stood, the sky had long since turned dark. He was too late. He knew he was. The movie will probably end soon. His plan, if it could even be called that, had been to catch Lando afterward, apologize, and somehow convince him to forgive yet another broken promise. He hadn't quite figured out the last part. Then he saw him. Lando was sitting on the curb just outside the theater, his elbows resting on his knees, his phone hanging loosely from one hand. Oscar came to an abrupt stop. For a moment, he simply stared. He'd been so sure Lando would've gone inside without him. He'd convinced himself he still had time to come up with an excuse. Instead… Lando had waited. His stomach twisted.

Oscar's feet refused to move. He'd imagined this conversation a hundred different ways while running across rooftops. In some versions, Lando had already gone home. He'd be annoyed, maybe asleep on the couch, maybe pretending he wasn't waiting up for him. Oscar would've apologized, promised to make it up to him, and somehow convinced himself that another lie wouldn't matter.

He hadn't prepared for this. For Lando sitting alone outside the theater long after the movie had started, his jacket zipped all the way to his chin despite the surprisingly warm evening. His phone rested loosely in his hand, the screen dark, as though he'd checked the time so many times it had eventually stopped meaning anything. When Lando finally looked up, something flickered across his face. Relief. It lasted less than a second.

By the time Oscar reached him, it had already disappeared, replaced by an expression so carefully neutral that it hurt to look at.

"Lando..." The apology was already on his tongue.

"I'm sorry."

Lando let out a quiet breath through his nose and pushed himself to his feet.

"I know you are."

There wasn't an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. If anything, he sounded tired. He brushed imaginary dust from the knees of his jeans before slipping his phone into his pocket. His movements were slow, almost absent-minded, as though he needed something to occupy his hands before he said the things he'd clearly been rehearsing for hours.

"You know," he began quietly, refusing to meet Oscar's eyes, "I kept telling myself there had to be a reason." Oscar felt his stomach twist. "At first I thought maybe the subway was delayed." Lando gave a humorless laugh. "Then I figured maybe your boss asked you to stay late." He shrugged. "Then another half hour passed." Only then did he finally look at Oscar. "And after that..." His smile was small. Painfully small. "I stopped trying to come up with excuses for you."

Those words landed somewhere deep in Oscar's chest. He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Because he did have an excuse. A real one. One that explained every minute he'd been gone. One he couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, quieter this time.

"I know." Lando nodded as though he'd expected nothing else. "That's the thing, Osc." His voice cracked just slightly on the nickname. "I always know what you're going to say."

Oscar looked away.

"Lando…"

"No." The interruption was gentle. Almost apologetic. "Please don't." There wasn't any anger in his eyes. Oscar almost wished there had been. Anger would've been easier to survive than disappointment. "I don't need another apology." Lando folded his arms tightly across his chest, more to hold himself together than because he was cold. "I need you to stop treating me like I'm stupid."

Oscar frowned.

"I don't think you're…"

"You do." Lando's words came more firmly now. "Maybe not intentionally. But you do." He took a slow breath before continuing. "You really expect me to believe Stark Industries keeps making one intern work until three in the morning?" Oscar's silence answered for him. "You expect me to believe you come home exhausted because of paperwork?" Lando laughed again. It sounded almost hollow. "And the bruises?" His eyes searched Oscar's face. "The cuts? The nights you don't come home at all? You honestly think I haven't noticed?"

Oscar's hands curled into fists inside the pockets of his hoodie. Every question deserved an answer. Every answer would destroy the one promise he'd made to Tony.

"I can't tell you."

The words barely escaped him. Lando closed his eyes.

"There." He nodded slowly. "That's the first honest thing you've said to me in weeks.”

Oscar didn't answer. He couldn't. The silence stretched between them, heavy enough that even the sounds of New York seemed to fade into the background. Cars rolled past the theater. A group of students laughed as they crossed the street. Somewhere farther away, someone shouted for a taxi. Life carried on. For Oscar, it felt like the entire city had stopped. He stared at the pavement between them, jaw clenched so tightly it ached. Lando was right. That was the worst part. Not completely, not about everything, but enough. He had lied. Again. And again. Until the lies had become easier than telling half-truths.

Until "I'm working late" came more naturally than "I can't tell you where I was."

He'd promised himself every lie was temporary. Just until things settled down. Just until the city was safer. Just until he figured out how to protect Lando without pushing him away. Instead… He'd somehow managed neither.

"I never wanted to lie to you."

The words escaped before he had time to think about them. Lando smiled. It wasn't bitter. It wasn't even sarcastic. It was simply sad.

"I know." Oscar looked up. "I do." Lando's shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath. "I don't think you wake up every morning wondering how you're going to make my life harder." A weak laugh escaped him. "I know you better than that." His fingers disappeared into the pockets of his jacket, more out of habit than because he was cold. "I just..." He searched for the right words, eyes drifting toward the glowing movie posters behind Oscar. "I miss you." Three simple words. Oscar felt them like a punch to the chest. "I know we live together." Lando shook his head almost incredulously. "Which somehow makes it worse." He laughed quietly, looking down at the sidewalk. "Do you know what I realized a few days ago?" Oscar couldn't speak. "I couldn't remember the last time we actually had dinner together." Not takeout left in the fridge. Not coffee at seven in the morning because one of them was leaving while the other was waking up.  Just the two of them. He couldn't remember. "I kept thinking..." Lando continued softly, "that things would calm down eventually. That your internship would get easier. That you'd come home." Another pause. "But it never happened." Oscar felt his throat tighten. Every sentence dug a little deeper. "I tried not to complain." Lando shrugged. "I told myself you were chasing something important. And you deserve that. You've worked so hard for this." His voice faltered. "But somewhere along the way I stopped feeling like I was part of your life."

Oscar's breathing grew uneven.

"That's not true."

He answered almost immediately. Too quickly. Lando tilted his head.

"Then tell me what's going on."

The question hung between them.  Oscar closed his eyes. If he told him… Lando would know. Lando would become part of this world. A world where people disappeared because they knew too much. Where villains didn't hesitate to use the people you loved against you. Tony had warned him. Natasha had warned him. Steve had warned him. The mask didn't only protect him. It protected everyone standing beside him. Including the person standing in front of him now. When Oscar finally opened his eyes again, Lando was still waiting. Still hoping. Still giving him one more chance.

"I'm sorry."

The hope disappeared. Not dramatically. Not all at once. It simply… faded. Lando nodded once, almost to himself.

"See?" His voice barely rose above a whisper. "That's exactly what I meant." He took a step back. "I ask you to trust me. You apologize. I ask you to tell me the truth. You apologize. I tell you I miss my best friend..." His voice cracked for the first time. "and all you can say is you're sorry."

Oscar felt something inside him snap.

"What do you want me to say?" The words came out louder than he'd intended. Lando blinked. Oscar dragged a hand through his hair, already regretting it. "I am trying, Lando."

"No, you're not."

"I am."

"You stopped trying weeks ago."

Oscar laughed once. A sharp, humorless sound.

"You think I stopped trying?" His heart was pounding now. "You think I wanted to miss tonight? You think I forgot? I remembered every single minute I wasn't here." His voice trembled despite himself. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to be here."

"Then why weren't you?"

The question came quietly. Almost gently.  Oscar opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Because there it was again. The truth. Waiting just behind his teeth. A truth he couldn't afford to speak. Lando watched him struggle. For one brief, impossible second… He almost believed Oscar was going to tell him everything. Instead, Oscar lowered his eyes.

"I can't."

Lando let out a slow breath.

"I know." This time, those two words sounded like goodbye. Lando stood there for another moment, his eyes fixed somewhere over Oscar's shoulder. He looked as though he wanted to say something else. As though there were still a hundred thoughts fighting to be heard. In the end, he only let out a slow, shaky breath. "I can't keep doing this."

The words were almost swallowed by the sounds of the city around them. Oscar felt his chest tighten.

"Lando..."

"I'm tired, Osc." He looked back at Oscar, and there was something heartbreakingly gentle in his expression. "I've spent weeks convincing myself that if I just gave you enough time..." He laughed quietly, shaking his head. "Eventually you'd tell me what was going on." His fingers tightened around the strap of his backpack. "I kept making excuses for you. He's busy. He's exhausted. He'll explain when he's ready. I don't think I can keep doing that anymore."

Oscar's throat felt impossibly tight.

"You don't have to make excuses."

Lando smiled sadly.

"No. I don't." Another silence settled between them. "I think..." Lando began carefully, almost as though he was choosing every word before letting it leave his mouth, "I think I need some time."

Oscar's heart sank.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know." Lando's eyes dropped to the pavement. "I just..." He rubbed at the back of his neck, a nervous habit Oscar had seen a thousand times before. "I miss you so much that it hurts." The confession hung between them. "And every time I look at you..." He swallowed. "I'm reminded that you're standing right in front of me, and somehow you're farther away than you've ever been." Oscar felt every muscle in his body go still. "I don't want to be angry with you." Lando's voice cracked. "I don't even think I am. I'm just… So disappointed." Oscar closed his eyes for a brief second. Those words hurt more than anything else Lando had said tonight. "I need some space." Lando finally looked back up at him. "Not forever." He was quick to add it, almost as if he regretted the words the moment they'd left his mouth. "I just… I need to stop waiting."

Oscar stared at him. He wanted to tell him not to leave. He wanted to promise that tomorrow would be different. That he'd explain everything. That he'd never miss another movie night. Instead… Nothing. Because every promise he wanted to make depended on a truth he still couldn't tell. Lando gave him one last, tired smile.

"I'll see you at home."

Then he turned. He didn't storm off. He didn't slam into Oscar's shoulder or wipe angrily at his eyes. He simply started walking. Oscar watched him go. Every instinct screamed at him to run after him. To grab his wrist. To make him stay. To say something. Anything. His feet never moved. It felt cruelly familiar. How many times had he watched people walk away while believing he was protecting them? The distance between them grew with every step Lando took down the sidewalk. Oscar remained exactly where he was. His hands were clenched so tightly his fingernails dug into his palms.

"Go after him."

Every part of him wanted to.

"Tell him."

He could almost hear his own thoughts begging him. Tell him. Tell him you're Spider-Man. Tell him why you've been disappearing. Tell him why you've been lying. Tell him that every broken promise has been made trying to keep him alive. His lips parted.

"Lando..."

The name barely carried across the street. Lando stopped. For one impossible, hopeful second, Oscar thought he might turn around. Instead, Lando lifted one hand in a small wave. Without looking back. Then he kept walking. Oscar stood there until he disappeared into the crowd. Only then did he realize he was completely alone.

— 

Hours later, Oscar found himself sitting on the edge of a rooftop, his legs dangling over the side as the city stretched endlessly beneath him. New York was quieter now. Not silent, that would have been impossible, but quieter. The constant roar of traffic had softened into the occasional hum of a passing car. Apartment windows that had glowed like stars only a few hours earlier had gone dark one by one. Somewhere in the distance, a ferry cut through the Hudson, its horn echoing across the water. The sky was beginning to lose its darkness, the first hints of dawn bleeding into the horizon. Oscar hadn't moved in almost an hour.

His mask rested beside him. The cool morning breeze tugged at his hair, carrying with it the scent of rain-soaked concrete and the faint smell of coffee drifting from a bakery preparing to open. Usually, he loved this time of day. The city felt... peaceful. Like it was taking one long, quiet breath before throwing itself back into chaos. Tonight, he couldn't appreciate any of it. His mind kept replaying the same conversation.

"I miss you."

The words refused to leave him alone. He'd heard people say they missed someone before. His parents. Friends. The Avengers. But hearing it from Lando… Somehow, it had sounded different. Not because of the words. Because of everything that had come before them. The waiting. The excuses. The disappointment. The look on Lando's face when Oscar had answered yet another impossible question with the only thing he could offer.

"I'm sorry."

Oscar let out a bitter laugh. Sorry. It had become his favorite word. Sorry I wasn't home. Sorry I disappeared. Sorry I lied. Sorry I can't explain. He was beginning to wonder if apologies stopped meaning anything after you'd repeated them enough times. His elbows rested on his knees as he buried his face in his hands.

"When did this happen?" he whispered to the empty rooftop. When had protecting Lando turned into hiding from him? When had every decision become a choice between telling the truth and keeping him safe? He couldn't remember. Maybe there had never really been a choice. Tony always said that the mask didn't only protect the person wearing it. It protected everyone they loved. Oscar understood that. He'd understood it the day he'd put the suit on for the first time. So why did it feel like he was slowly destroying the very person he was trying to protect? He looked down at his hands. There were fresh cuts across his knuckles. A bruise had already begun to bloom along his wrist where someone had grabbed him earlier that night. He barely noticed them anymore. Pain had become routine. Broken ribs healed. Bruises faded. Cuts stitched themselves back together with enough time. None of it scared him. What scared him… was walking into an apartment and seeing disappointment instead of a smile. What scared him was realizing that Lando had stopped asking where he'd been. Not because he trusted the excuses. Because he'd stopped believing there would ever be a real answer.

Oscar closed his eyes. He could picture their apartment perfectly. The ridiculous Avengers mug that belonged to Lando. The black cat mug sitting beside it. The blanket they'd argued over because Lando insisted it belonged on the couch while Oscar swore it belonged folded in the cupboard. Movie tickets tucked into the corner of the mirror. Takeout menus neither of them ever threw away. Tiny pieces of a life they'd built together without ever talking about it. Home. It had become home because Lando was there. That realization should have terrified him. Instead… It only made his chest ache. He'd spent months pretending none of this was happening. Pretending the way his heart skipped whenever Lando smiled at him meant nothing. Pretending that the happiest part of every day wasn't the few quiet minutes they shared in the kitchen before the rest of the world demanded something from them. He'd convinced himself he was protecting their friendship. That as long as he stayed quiet, nothing had to change. Now everything was changing anyway. Because he had stayed quiet. A tired smile crossed his face.

"You know what's funny?" His voice disappeared into the wind. He didn’t even know who he was talking to. Maybe to Lando, maybe to himself.  "I've fought aliens." He laughed quietly to himself. "I've been thrown through buildings. I've had people point guns at me. I've almost died more times than I can count…." 

None of those things had ever made him feel as helpless as watching Lando walk away tonight. Because there had been no villain to fight. No building to save. No web strong enough to pull back someone who had finally grown tired of waiting. Oscar leaned back, staring up at the sky as it slowly turned shades of pale blue. Maybe this was what Tony had been trying to warn him about all along. Not that someone would discover his identity. That one day, the secret itself would cost him something. Someone. His fingers closed around the Spider-Man mask lying beside him. It suddenly felt heavier than it ever had before.

"I don't know how to be both," he admitted quietly. "I don't know how to be Spider-Man..." His voice broke. "without losing Oscar."

For a long time, the city offered no answer. Only the wind. Only the dawn. Only the crushing realization that somewhere, only a few blocks away, the person he loved was probably asleep… And for the first time since they'd met, Oscar wasn't sure how to find his way back to him. Eventually, Oscar pulled the mask back over his face. The familiar click echoed softly as the lenses sealed into place. For a second, he remained exactly where he was. Then he stepped off the edge of the building. The city rushed up to meet him. One web. Another. Then another. The rhythm should have been comforting. It usually was. Tonight, it wasn't enough to quiet his thoughts. He was going home. He didn't know what he was going to say. He only knew he couldn't let tonight be the last thing that stood between them. He would figure something out. The gunshot shattered the silence.

It echoed between the buildings, sharp enough to make his blood run cold. Oscar's head snapped toward the sound before he'd consciously processed it. Another shout. Voices. Someone yelling. He fired another web, swinging hard toward the intersection. Then he heard it. A voice. Familiar. Too familiar.

"I'm telling you, I don't have any cash…"

Oscar's heart stopped. No. No, no, no. Not him. For one impossible second, everything else disappeared. The buildings. The streets. The wind. He forgot how to breathe. His grip tightened around the webline so suddenly it burned against his gloves.

"Lando."

The name escaped him before he realized he'd spoken. The next second, instinct took over. Oscar had never moved this fast in his life. He barely remembered swinging. The city blurred into streaks of light beneath him. His shoulder clipped the corner of a building hard enough to send pain shooting through his arm. He didn't care. Another web. Another. Faster. Please. Please don't let me be too late. He rounded the final corner. Time slowed. Lando stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. A man several feet away had a gun raised. Oscar didn't think. He didn't calculate angles. Didn't plan. Didn't speak. His wrists fired almost on instinct. One web. Two. Five. Ten. The shooter barely had time to react before layer after layer of webbing wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides, his legs to the pavement, his weapon disappearing beneath thick white strands until he looked less like a criminal and more like an oversized cocoon glued to the sidewalk. Oscar landed so hard the concrete cracked beneath his feet. He didn't even look at the man. Didn't check if he was restrained. Didn't scan for another threat. His entire world narrowed to one person.

"Lando." He crossed the distance between them in two hurried steps. His hands found Lando's face almost desperately, turning it gently from side to side. His eyes searched frantically. Forehead. Temple. Neck. Chest. No blood. Please. Shoulders. Arms. He couldn't see any blood. His breathing had become uneven. Too fast.

"Tell me you're okay." His voice shook. "Please." He looked again. Searching. Looking for anything he'd missed. A hole in his jacket. A graze. Blood beneath the streetlights. Anything. "Tell me..." 

Only then did he realize. The voice. His own voice. No modulator. His stomach dropped. With trembling fingers, he hit the switch hidden beneath the edge of his mask. The familiar electronic buzz kicked in a second too late. Too late. Lando had heard him. He had to have heard him. Oscar's heart hammered so violently he thought it might crack a rib. For one awful moment, all he could do was stare. Waiting. Waiting for recognition. For confusion. For Lando to whisper his name. Instead… Lando blinked at him. A slow, lopsided grin spread across his face.

"Spider-Man..." He laughed.  "Hey..." He reached out and clumsily patted Spider-Man's shoulder. "You saved me again."

Oscar frowned. Something wasn't right. Lando's words dragged together ever so slightly. His smile was unfocused. His balance shifted enough that Oscar instinctively steadied him before he could stumble backward. The sharp smell of alcohol reached him a heartbeat later. Oscar closed his eyes.

"...Oh, Lando."

Relief crashed over him so suddenly his knees nearly gave out. He was alive. He wasn't bleeding. He hadn't recognized Oscar's voice. He was just… Drunk. Oscar let out a shaky breath that sounded dangerously close to a laugh. Or maybe a sob. He wasn't entirely sure anymore. For one horrifying minute… He'd been convinced he was watching the person he loved die. And he'd discovered something about himself that scared him almost as much as the gun. If that bullet had hit Lando… He wouldn't have cared who found out he was Spider-Man. He would've torn the entire city apart to save him. And that terrified him. Because it meant there was no line he wouldn't cross… If it meant keeping Lando alive. Oscar didn't realize he was still holding Lando until the other man shifted uncomfortably beneath his hands.

"You can let go," Lando said with a quiet laugh, glancing down at where Spider-Man's gloved fingers were still gripping his jacket. "I'm not going anywhere." Oscar looked down as though he hadn't even been aware of it. His fingers had bunched the fabric beneath them. He loosened his grip immediately, taking half a step back, but his eyes never left Lando. He checked him again. Looking for something he'd somehow missed. Lando noticed. "What?" he asked, genuinely confused.

Oscar shook his head once, more to himself than to Lando.

"What were you thinking?"

Lando blinked.

"Hm?"

"What were you thinking?" Oscar repeated, this time unable to hide the frustration creeping into his voice. "It's after four in the morning. You're drunk. You're walking home by yourself."

"Um..." Lando scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck, suddenly looking more like a student caught breaking curfew than a twenty-something man standing in front of a superhero. "I'm a grown man, you know? I wasn't doing anything illegal."

Oscar folded his arms across his chest.

"I never said you were."

"And I didn't even drink that much," Lando continued, holding his thumb and index finger a few centimeters apart as if that somehow proved his point. "It's just..." He laughed quietly. "My head's never really liked alcohol. You know... the balance thing."

Oscar stared at him for a long moment before letting out a slow breath through his nose.

"Exactly." His voice stayed calm, but there was something tight underneath it. "That's exactly why you shouldn't be out here on your own."

Lando frowned.

"I wasn't on my own."

"You are now."

"I was with friends."

"And where are they?"

"They wanted to go to another bar." Lando shrugged. "I didn't. So I left."

Oscar closed his eyes for a brief second.

"You left. Alone. After drinking."

"I was walking home."

"Lando..." Oscar's voice came out lower this time, almost tired. "What was going through your head?"

Lando looked at him as though the answer should have been obvious.

"I wanted to go home. I wasn't really having fun anymore. My friends were." He looked down at the pavement, nudging a loose pebble with the toe of his shoe. "I didn't want to ruin their night just because mine wasn't exactly great. So I told them I'd be fine." A humorless laugh escaped him. "I wasn't exactly expecting someone to pull a gun on me over the twenty dollars in my pocket."

Oscar's jaw tightened.

"Forget the gun."

Lando looked back up.

"What?"

"You could've fallen." Oscar gestured vaguely toward him, frustration finally bleeding into his voice. "You told me yourself you get dizzy. You'd been drinking. You were walking by yourself. One bad step, one curb you don't see, one fall..." He stopped. His throat suddenly felt too tight. "You could've hit your head."

The last sentence came out much quieter.

"So?"

Lando blinked.

"So?" Oscar repeated, staring at him in disbelief. "You've already got a brain injury."

"I know."

"And you think hitting your head again isn't a problem?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying?"

Lando sighed.

"I'm saying I wasn't thinking." The words hung between them. "I just wanted to go home." Oscar looked away. He understood that feeling far better than he wanted to admit. Lando studied him for a moment before a small smile appeared on his face. "I still don't get why you're so worried." Oscar didn't answer. "We've met..." Lando counted silently in his head. "what? Two times?"

"Three if we count today."

A quiet laugh escaped him.

"I'm basically a stranger."

The words hit Oscar harder than they should have. You're anything but.

"You aren't..." The answer slipped out before he could stop himself. Oscar froze. "I mean..." He cleared his throat behind the mask. "I care about everyone in this city. Especially the ones who seem determined to make my job impossible."

Lando laughed, rubbing both hands over his face.

"You know..." His smile softened. "It's funny." Oscar immediately became suspicious.

"What is?"

"I spend weeks trying to get my roommate to stop treating me like I'm made of glass." He chuckled to himself. "And then you show up… and start saying exactly the same things." Oscar's heart skipped. "He'd ask if I'd eaten." Lando continued absentmindedly. "He'd tell me alcohol makes my balance worse. He'd probably be annoyed I left my friends." Another small laugh. "I swear, you sound just like Osc sometimes."

Oscar forgot to breathe. For a long second neither of them spoke. Lando was looking at him curiously now, waiting for some sarcastic comeback that never came. Oscar forced himself to look away first.

"Come on." His voice was quieter than before. "I'll walk you home."

Lando looked toward the end of the street before nodding.

"It's not far."

"I know." The answer came far too quickly. Oscar corrected himself immediately. "I mean… I've basically been in your apartment."

Lando didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he was simply too tired. Oscar rested a careful hand against the small of Lando's back, guiding him around the uneven pavement more than leading him. He noticed every slight stumble. Every tiny adjustment Lando made to keep his balance. Every instinct in him wanted to catch him before he could even sway. After a few steps, Lando glanced back over his shoulder.

"What about him?"

He nodded toward the man still cocooned in thick white webbing, who had given up struggling several minutes ago. Oscar followed his gaze.

"He'll be fine… Eventually somebody will call the police."

Lando laughed quietly.

"I almost feel bad for him."

Oscar looked at the cocoon for a second before shaking his head.

"I don't." Then, before he could think better of it, he added under his breath, "He pointed a gun at the wrong person."

For the first time that night, Lando didn't laugh. He simply looked at Spider-Man for a second longer than usual. As though there was something strangely familiar about the way he'd said it.

— 

Lando woke with a pounding headache. Thankfully, it was Saturday. He had the entire day off, and he had no intention of leaving his bed until he absolutely had to. Then he heard someone moving around in the kitchen. Oscar was still home. For some reason, that only made him want to stay under the covers even more. Unfortunately, his need for coffee won much sooner than he'd expected. With a quiet sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and shuffled toward the kitchen. Oscar was sitting at the table, an open book spread out in front of him. He looked up the moment he heard Lando's footsteps.

"Hey," he said softly, almost as if he was afraid his voice alone might make Lando turn around and leave.

"Hey."

Lando didn't look at him again. Instead, he busied himself making coffee.

"You got home pretty late last night..." Oscar said carefully.

"Were you home?" Lando frowned as he scooped coffee into his mug.

"I woke up when you came in... but I wasn't sure..." Oscar hesitated. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk."

Another lie. This time, Oscar wasn't even sure why he was telling it. He hadn't been asleep when Lando came home. He'd been sitting on the rooftop, waiting until he was certain Lando had fallen asleep before climbing back into the apartment.

"Mhm." Lando poured hot water into the mug. "Well... I guess that's the longest you've stayed home in a while."

"Lando..." Oscar let out a quiet sigh. "Please. I don't want to fight. I actually have today off. We can spend the day together."

"Stop." Lando finally turned to face him. "Stop giving me hope." His voice wasn't angry anymore. It was tired. "You've got today off..." he repeated. "Right up until your phone rings." He wrapped both hands around the warm mug. "We'll start something. We'll watch a movie..." A humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "and halfway through you'll have to leave anyway.”

Oscar pushed himself away from the table, forcing a small smile that disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared.

"That's not fair."

Lando laughed under his breath.

"No?"

"No. I've cancelled plans a few times, sure, but…"

"A few?" Lando cut him off before Oscar could finish. "A few?" The kitchen fell silent. Oscar looked at him, caught off guard by the edge in his voice. "I honestly can't remember the last time we actually spent an evening together."

"Lando..."

"No, tell me." He set his mug down with a little more force than he intended. "When was it?" Oscar opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Lando nodded slowly, almost to himself. "Exactly."

"I've been busy."

"I know."

"My internship…"

"Heard that one."

"The projects…"

"This one too."

"The deadlines…"

"Yep. Nothing new" Lando took a slow breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know every excuse, Oscar."

Oscar's shoulders stiffened.

"They're not excuses."

"Then what are they?"

"The truth."

Lando looked at him for a long moment.

"I don't think it is."

The words landed harder than either of them expected. Oscar frowned.

"What?"

"I don't think you're telling me the truth anymore."

Oscar looked away first.

"What makes you say that?"

Lando let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

"Seriously?"

He spread his hands.

"You're never here. You leave in the middle of dinner. You disappear for hours. You come home covered in bruises. You barely sleep. You always look exhausted. And every single time I ask what's going on..." He paused. "You tell me you're just busy or something even more lame.” 

"I am busy."

"Doing what?" Oscar didn't answer. "What internship keeps someone out until three in the morning?"

"I told you.. "

"No.” Lando shook his head. "You told me something." His voice cracked for the first time. "You didn't tell me the truth."

Oscar felt his jaw tighten.

"I can't tell you everything."

"Why?"

"Because I can't."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have." Lando stared at him. Oscar's frustration finally surfaced. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

"I just told you.. "

"No!" Lando's voice echoed through the apartment. "No, you didn't. You keep saying you're busy. You keep saying you're tired. You keep saying everything's fine.” He took a step closer. "And I don't believe you anymore."

Oscar's chest tightened.

"What if I can't tell you? What if it's not my secret to tell?"

Lando frowned.

"What does that even mean?"

Oscar realized what he'd said and immediately looked away.

"I just..." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I mean there are things I can't talk about."

"Why?"

"I just can't."

"Who made that decision?"

Oscar stayed silent. Lando laughed bitterly.

"See? You won't even answer a simple question."

"I'm trying."

"No." Lando shook his head. "You're trying not to tell me anything." For several long seconds neither of them spoke. Finally, Lando broke the silence."I don't care if you've done something stupid." Oscar looked up. "I don't care if you're in trouble. I don't care if you failed something." His voice softened. "I just..." He swallowed. "I want my best friend back."

Oscar felt something inside him crack. He wanted to tell him. God, he wanted to. To tell him everything. That every bruise had a reason. That every missed dinner had saved someone's life. That he hadn't chosen New York over Lando. He'd been trying to protect both. Instead, all he managed was a whisper.

"I'm sorry."

Lando closed his eyes.

"See?" He picked up his mug again. "That's all you ever say now."

"I'm sorry."

"And then nothing changes.”

Lando didn't trust himself to stay in the kitchen any longer. If he did, he'd either say something he'd regret or end up believing another promise Oscar had no intention of keeping. He'd barely reached the hallway when Oscar spoke again.

"Lando." He didn't stop. "Please." Still nothing. Oscar let out a frustrated sigh. "We're not a couple, okay?" The words echoed through the apartment. Lando froze. "We're roommates. Best friends." Oscar's voice was tight, defensive. "I don't have to tell you every single thing about my life."

For a long moment, there was only silence. Then Lando nodded once.

"You're right." His voice was quiet. "You don't."

He stepped into his bedroom and gently pushed the door almost closed. Oscar stayed where he was in the kitchen, staring at the floor. The words had come out wrong. They'd sounded colder than he'd meant them to. He rubbed both hands over his face. Great. That definitely made everything better. A few moments passed. Oscar was still standing beside the kitchen counter, trying to convince himself to go after Lando, when he heard movement from the bedroom. The door opened again. Lando stepped back into the hallway, coffee mug still in one hand.

"Oscar, I just…" He turned too quickly. The room tilted. His stomach dropped. The familiar wave of dizziness hit without warning. "Shit."

The mug slipped. Hot coffee splashed over the back of his hand, the sudden sting making his fingers open instinctively. The porcelain tumbled toward the floor. Lando braced himself. For the boiling coffee. For the shattered ceramic against his legs. For the inevitable pain. Instead… Nothing. The mug never reached him. It hit the floor several feet away, exploding into pieces near the opposite wall. Coffee splattered harmlessly across the hardwood. Lando blinked. His breathing slowed. Then stopped altogether. Oscar was standing right in front of him. One hand still wrapped gently around his wrist where he'd instinctively steadied him. The other lowered from where he'd caught the falling mug a split second earlier before throwing it away from them. Lando stared at him. Then looked toward the kitchen. The distance made his stomach twist. Just a second ago… Oscar had been standing by the counter. He looked back at him. Oscar hadn't moved. At least… He shouldn't have been able to. No one should. Oscar realized it at exactly the same moment Lando did. His hand slipped from Lando's wrist. For the first time in a very long time… Oscar didn't know how to explain what had just happened. He reacted before he had time to think.

"Lando." His voice came out sharper than he'd intended. He took hold of Lando's wrist, not roughly, but firmly, and guided him straight back into the kitchen. "Come here."

"Oscar…"

"Just... please." He turned on the cold tap, adjusting it until the water ran cool instead of freezing before carefully guiding Lando's burned hand beneath the stream. Lando didn't resist. He simply stood there. Watching him. Oscar kept his eyes fixed on the burn, gently turning Lando's hand over to inspect it. "The skin's only a little red," he murmured, more to himself than to Lando. "It should be okay..." His thumb brushed lightly over Lando's wrist before he caught himself and let go. The only sound left was the running water. "Lando, I'm…"

"Tell me the truth."

Oscar's hands stilled.

"What?"

"The truth."

Oscar let out a slow breath.

"I've told you…"

"No." Lando's voice wasn't angry anymore. It was exhausted. "You haven't."

Oscar looked down at the sink.

"I can't."

"You can."

"I can't. Lando..." Oscar swallowed. "There are things..." His voice shook. "There are things I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because if I do..." He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "if I do, I could put you in danger."

Lando frowned.

"What?"

Oscar finally looked at him.

"I know that sounds insane."

"It does."

"But it's true. I want to tell you." His eyes were already beginning to sting. "I've wanted to tell you so many times. Yesterday when you waited outside the cinema. The night you twisted your ankle. Every time I came home covered in bruises. Every single lie..." His voice cracked. "I hated every single one." Lando didn't interrupt. Oscar rarely cried. He wasn't crying now either. But he looked dangerously close. "I wanted to tell you."

"So tell me."

"I can't." Oscar's shoulders sagged. "If anyone knew..." He closed his eyes. "you'd become a target. I couldn't live with that."

Lando was quiet for a long time. Then, slowly, he slipped his burned hand from beneath the running water. Oscar instinctively reached for it again.

"You should keep it under…" Lando gently pulled away. Instead, he lifted his uninjured hand. His fingers rested against Oscar's cheek. Warm. Careful. Oscar's breath caught. "Lando..."

Lando searched his face for several long seconds. Not accusing. Not angry. Just… Looking. As if every unanswered question from the last few months was finally falling into place. His thumb brushed lightly across Oscar's cheek. Then he whispered,

"Tell me the truth." Oscar closed his eyes. Lando took a tiny step closer. "This time..." His voice was barely audible. "tell me the real one."

Oscar opened his eyes again. Lando wasn't looking at him with confusion anymore. He wasn't trying to solve a puzzle. He looked… Heartbroken. Like someone who had already found the answer and was simply waiting for the person he loved to trust him enough to say it out loud. Oscar felt his chest tighten.

"You know."

It wasn't a question. Lando's eyes filled with tears.

"I think I do."

Another silence settled between them. Long. Heavy. Oscar looked away first. Then laughed quietly through the lump in his throat.

"I kept thinking..." He wiped quickly at his eyes. "if I was careful enough… if I lied well enough… I could keep the two parts of my life separate." He looked back at Lando. "But every time you looked at Spider-Man..." A broken smile appeared on his face. "...you saw me."

Lando didn't move. He hardly seemed to breathe. Oscar's voice dropped to little more than a whisper. Oscar's voice dropped to little more than a whisper.

"I wasn't working late."

"No."

"I wasn't staying at Stark because of overtime."

"No."

"I wasn't getting hurt because I'm clumsy." Lando's lips trembled. Oscar nodded once. The smallest movement. "I've been lying to you. I'm sorry."

The words almost disappeared between them. Oscar lowered his head, his eyes fixed on the floor. For months he'd imagined this moment. He'd pictured a hundred different versions of it. Some ended with Lando walking away. Some ended with SHIELD showing up at the apartment. Some ended with someone getting hurt because he'd trusted the wrong person. None of them looked like this. None of them involved Lando standing only inches away, one hand still resting against his cheek. Oscar took a shaky breath. Then another. When he finally looked up again, tears blurred his vision.

"I'm Spider-Man."

Neither of them moved. Lando stared at him as tears finally spilled over his cheeks.

"I know," he whispered. "I think..." He let out a shaky laugh that immediately dissolved into a sob. "I think part of me has known for a while."

Oscar's face crumpled.

"I'm so sorry."

Lando closed the distance between them. He wrapped both arms around Oscar without another word. Oscar held on just as tightly. As if letting go now would mean losing him all over again. For the first time since becoming Spider-Man… There was no secret standing between them. Only the sound of two people quietly crying in the middle of a tiny apartment kitchen, finally telling each other the truth.

4.

The next two months were intense. But they were also the happiest either of them could remember. Oscar didn't have to lie anymore. For the first time since becoming Spider-Man, he didn't have to come up with excuses for every bruise, every late night, every hurried phone call that pulled him away without explanation. Somehow, everything felt lighter with Lando by his side. Life was still chaotic. Oscar was still New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, still trying to survive another year of university, and still somehow managing an internship at Stark Industries on top of it all. His days were no less exhausting than before. The difference was that he no longer carried the weight of his secret alone. As for Lando… He hadn't stayed angry for very long.

The hurt had been real, but once Oscar had finally told him everything, it had become impossible to ignore the reason behind every lie. Oscar had never been trying to push him away. He'd only been trying to protect him in the only way he knew how. Now, instead of wondering where Oscar disappeared to every night, Lando complained whenever he came home too late. He insisted on patching up cuts that were already beginning to heal before he could even finish cleaning them, muttering under his breath about how "having super healing was completely unfair." Oscar always let him. Mostly because arguing was pointless. And partly because he secretly loved the way Lando fussed over him.

Lando also discovered that living with Spider-Man came with one enormous advantage. He could satisfy every ridiculous question that crossed his mind. Which was how Oscar found himself having mugs, cushions, socks, apples, and once, much to his horror, a TV remote thrown at his head without warning. Every single time, his spider-sense reacted before he did. Sometimes he caught the object. Sometimes he ducked without thinking. The remote had ended up embedded in the couch after Oscar instinctively webbed it out of the air. Lando had laughed so hard he'd nearly fallen off the sofa.

"I just wanted to see if it still worked!"

"It wasn't supposed to become a daily experiment," Oscar had complained, peeling webbing off the remote.

"It is now."

Oscar should have been annoyed. Instead, he found himself laughing too. Because for the first time in a long time… Home felt easy. Lando quickly learned that there was a significant difference between knowing his best friend was Spider-Man...and actually living with him. Most of the discoveries weren't dramatic. They were just odd. It started with coffee. Lando had reached for the mug at exactly the same time it slipped from his hand. He didn't even have time to swear. Oscar caught it. Without looking. He didn't even pause the conversation.

"And then Cap said…"

He placed the mug back on the table before continuing his sentence as though nothing had happened. Lando stared at him. Oscar frowned.

"What?"

"You didn't even look."

Oscar blinked.

"Oh." He looked down at the mug. "I guess I didn't."

After that, Lando started dropping things on purpose. Not often. Just enough to see Oscar sigh every single time before catching whatever was falling.

"You know I'm doing it on purpose now?"

"I know."

"So why do you keep catching them?"

Oscar looked genuinely confused.

"Because you're dropping them?"

Another day, Lando wandered out of his room after an afternoon nap to find Oscar vacuuming the living room. With one hand, he was holding the sofa a few inches off the floor. With the other, he calmly guided the vacuum underneath it as if there was nothing unusual about the whole situation. Lando leaned against the doorway, watching him for a moment.

"You know," he said, "I'm starting to really like the fact that you have superpowers. Especially when it comes to cleaning."

Oscar didn't even look up.

"Really? Shame they don't help with unloading the dishwasher. So instead of standing there watching, you can go do that."

Lando tipped his head back with a long, dramatic groan.

"You're no fun."

Even so, he made his way to the kitchen. He had barely opened the dishwasher when a loud thud echoed through the apartment.

"Oscar?"

"I'm fine!" Oscar called back immediately.

Lando leaned around the corner. The sofa was back where it belonged, and Oscar was pushing the vacuum over the rug with an expression of complete innocence.

"Try to keep it down before the neighbours start wondering what we're doing in here."

Oscar glanced over his shoulder.

"I dropped it."

"I noticed."

Oscar smiled to himself before returning to the vacuuming. A second later, Lando heard him laugh quietly under his breath. Then there was the super hearing. Lando was sitting on his bed with his laptop balanced on his knees, adding the last few slides to his presentation.

"When I finish this, I need coffee," he muttered to himself, not expecting anyone to hear him.

Barely a minute later, there was a knock on his door.

"Come in." Oscar stepped inside, a mug with coffee in his hand. Lando looked at the mug, then at Oscar. "If you're about to tell me you've been hiding mind-reading from me too..."

Oscar laughed quietly, holding the mug out to him.

"No." Lando took it automatically. "I just heard what you said."

"I was talking to myself."

"I know. You do it a lot."

Lando blinked. Then realization slowly crossed his face.

"Right. Super hearing." Oscar nodded once. For a moment, Lando just stared into his coffee before another thought occurred to him. "Oscar..."

"Hm?"

"How much do you actually hear?" Oscar was silent for a beat. Then, very deliberately, he took a step backwards. Lando narrowed his eyes. "Oscar..."

Oscar was already turning towards the door.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to."

Before Lando could say another word, Oscar slipped out into the hallway and quietly closed the door behind him. Lando stared after him for a long moment. Then he looked down at his coffee.

"You know what?" He took a sip. "I think I'm okay not knowing.”

— 

It was a good day. Oscar had officially finished his exams and, for the first time in weeks, he could finally forget about university, at least for a little while. One less responsibility meant more time for Lando. Ever since Lando had learned the truth, a lot had changed between them. They were practically dating, yet neither of them had asked the one question that would make it official. Because of that, they were still missing out on certain things, like kissing. Oscar wanted to kiss Lando more than he cared to admit, but for some reason, fear kept holding him back from letting whatever existed between them finally become something real. Having a boyfriend who knew your secret identity felt like tempting fate. Lando had been at work since early that morning, while Oscar wandered around the city in his suit. Since he didn't have anything else to do, he might as well make himself useful.

The afternoon had been unusually quiet. A stolen purse here. A cat stranded on a fire escape there. Nothing that required more than a few minutes of his time. Oscar had just landed on the edge of a rooftop when a deafening explosion ripped through the city. The shockwave rolled between the buildings, rattling windows for blocks. His head snapped toward the column of smoke rising above buildings.

"That's not good."

He was already moving before he'd finished the sentence. Web after web carried him between the skyscrapers, each swing faster than the last. Sirens filled the streets below, people pouring onto the sidewalks, all staring toward the smoke. By the time Oscar reached the scene, the Avengers were already there. Captain America was directing civilians away from the intersection while Sam circled overhead. Thor crashed into the pavement hard enough to crack the asphalt, forcing the towering figure of Juggernaut back several meters. Not far away, Iron Man streaked through the air, narrowly avoiding a piece of concrete the size of a car. Oscar landed beside him.

"Need a hand?"

Tony didn't even look over.

"Took you long enough, kid."

"I was on the other side of Brooklyn."

"And yet somehow still late."

Another chunk of debris came flying toward a line of parked cars. Oscar fired two webs, changed its trajectory just enough for Hulk to catch it. Juggernaut lowered his shoulder and charged.

"I've got him!" Sam shouted.

"You've absolutely not got him," Tony replied.

Oscar was already moving. He shot a web at Juggernaut's helmet, using it to swing himself around the villain's shoulders before planting both feet against his back and kicking off. It barely slowed him.

"I really hate fighting people who don't believe in physics," Oscar muttered as he landed.

"You and me both," Tony answered.

Thor's lightning lit up the street. Captain America barked another order to the evacuation teams. For a brief moment, it looked as though they might actually contain the chaos. Then… Another explosion. Much louder. Oscar froze. His head turned instinctively toward the second plume of smoke rising above the rooftops. No. His stomach dropped. He knew that street. Knew that intersection. Knew the café on the corner. The office building beside it. Lando. The thought hit him so hard he almost forgot to breathe. Tony noticed immediately.

"What is it?"

Oscar never took his eyes off the smoke.

"Lando works there."

For the first time since the fight had started, Tony's voice lost its usual sarcasm.

"Go." Oscar looked at him. "We've got this."

"But…"

"Go make sure he's okay." Tony pointed toward the smoke. "And help get people out."

Oscar nodded once. Then he was gone. He crossed the street in what felt like seconds. The closer he got, the worse it looked. Glass covered the pavement. Smoke poured from shattered windows.

People stumbled into the street, covered in dust and blood, while firefighters struggled to push through the crowd. Half of the building's façade had collapsed. The rest looked ready to follow. Oscar didn't hesitate. He fired a web at the exposed steel beams and launched himself through the gaping hole in the side of the building, disappearing into the dust-filled darkness just as another section of concrete groaned overhead.

"Lando?" he shouted, even though the building was filled with so much noise that he doubted Lando could hear him.

The cinema looked nothing like it had that morning. The lobby was buried beneath shattered glass and chunks of concrete. The glowing menu boards above the concession stand hung crooked, some flickering, others completely dark. Popcorn covered the floor, mixed with dust and broken ceiling tiles until it was impossible to tell one from the other.

"Lando!"

Nothing. Oscar forced himself forward, weaving around fallen signs and overturned display stands. He listened, trying to separate hundreds of heartbeats from the screams echoing through the building. Every sound blended into another until he couldn't tell where one ended and the next began.

"Can anyone hear me?" he called instead.

A woman raised a trembling hand from behind the ticket counter.

"My daughter..."

Oscar was beside her in an instant, lifting a collapsed beam just enough for the little girl to crawl free.

"The firefighters are outside," he said. "Go. Don't stop."

They hurried toward the exit before he was already moving again.

"Lando!"

He checked behind the concession stand. Nothing. The staff room. Empty. The projection booth. No one. Each room made the knot in his stomach tighter. No. No, no, no… He couldn't be too late. His mind immediately went to the worst places. Lando trapped beneath the rubble. Lando crushed when the ceiling came down. Lando… Stop. Oscar swallowed hard and kept moving. He had accepted years ago that Spider-Man might not make it home one day. But Lando? The thought alone was enough to make his chest tighten until it hurt to breathe.

"There!"

Someone pointed toward the end of the corridor. Oscar's head snapped around. Near the entrance to one of the screening rooms… Lando. Relief hit him so hard his knees almost gave out. He was alive. Covered in grey dust from head to toe, his cinema uniform was torn across one shoulder. A deep cut on his temple had left a trail of dried blood down the side of his face, and smaller cuts covered both of his hands, his knuckles scraped raw. Oscar crossed the distance between them in seconds.

"Lando."

Lando looked up. His shoulders relaxed the moment he saw him.

"Hey."

Oscar grabbed him by both shoulders, quickly looking him over.

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine."

"You're bleeding."

"It's just a cut."

"What the hell are you still doing in here?" Oscar demanded, unable to hide the panic in his voice. "The building's falling apart."

"I know."

"Then we're leaving."

Oscar reached for his arm, ready to drag him outside. Lando didn't move.

"Os…Spider-Man."

"No. Lando…"

"There are still people in there." Oscar frowned. Lando pointed toward Screen Three. The entrance was almost completely blocked by collapsed concrete and twisted steel. "The ceiling came down," he said quickly. "Most people got out, but some are still trapped inside." Oscar listened. Beneath the creaking concrete… He could hear them. Muffled voices. Someone crying. Someone pounding weakly against the other side of the rubble. "I've been trying to move it," Lando said, looking down at his scraped, bloodied hands. "But I can't."

Oscar looked from the blocked entrance back to Lando. His fear hadn't disappeared. If anything, it had settled somewhere deeper.

"Move," he said quietly.

Without hesitation, Lando stepped aside. Oscar didn't waste another second. He wedged his fingers beneath the largest slab of concrete, testing its weight. The ceiling groaned above them.

"Lando," he said without looking away from the rubble. "The moment I lift this, get them out."

Lando nodded.

"I know."

Oscar took a breath and pushed. Concrete cracked. Twisted steel screamed as the collapsed entrance shifted just enough to create a narrow gap.

"Go!"

Lando was already moving.

"Come on!" he shouted into the darkness. "This way!"

One by one, people stumbled out. A teenage girl, her arm wrapped around an older man. A mother carrying a little boy who wouldn't stop crying. Two employees covered in dust, supporting another who could barely stay on his feet. Oscar kept the debris suspended above them, every muscle in his body straining as more pieces threatened to slide.

"Hurry!"

The last person squeezed through just as another crack echoed through the hallway.

"They're all out!" Lando yelled.

Oscar let go. The entrance collapsed completely behind them with a deafening crash. A cloud of dust swallowed the corridor. For a second, neither of them could see. Then Oscar grabbed Lando's wrist.

"We're leaving."

"Oscar, there could still be…"

"The firefighters are here now."

He didn't wait for an argument.

He pulled Lando through the lobby, weaving around paramedics rushing inside and firefighters carrying hoses over their shoulders. Only once they were outside did Oscar finally slow down. Emergency vehicles lined the street. People sat on the pavement wrapped in blankets while medics moved from one casualty to the next. Oscar led Lando straight toward the nearest paramedic.

"I've got another one."

The medic looked up immediately.

"What happened?"

"He hit his head." Oscar rested a hand against the back of Lando's neck before the other man could wander off again. "There's a laceration on his temple, and he has a previous history of traumatic brain injury."

The medic's expression sharpened.

"We'll take a look."

Lando looked between them in disbelief.

"I can't believe you just sold me out like that."

Oscar finally looked at him.

"You have a history of brain injury."

"Yeah but…”

"I don't even want to hear it."

"That was years ago!"

"And now you've been in an explosion."

Lando opened his mouth. Closed it again.

"Fine."

The medic couldn't hide a small smile as he guided Lando toward one of the folding chairs.

"We'll clean that up first."

Oscar crouched in front of him.

"Stay here."

"I wasn't planning on going anywhere."

"I mean it."

"Me too."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Oscar's eyes lingered on the blood running down the side of Lando's face. He wanted to stay. To make sure the cut wasn't deeper than it looked. To hear the medic say everything was fine. To sit beside him until the shaking in his own hands finally stopped. Instead, someone shouted from farther down the street.

"Spider-Man!"

Oscar turned instinctively. In the distance, smoke was still rising over the rooftops. The fight wasn't over. Lando noticed the hesitation immediately.

"You should go."

Oscar looked back at him.

"I don't want to."

The words escaped before he could stop them. Lando's expression softened.

"I don't want you to go… but you told me this is kinda your job. I'm probably unemployed… so you better keep yours. "

Oscar swallowed hard.

"They've got you?"

Lando nodded toward the paramedic, already opening a first-aid kit.

"I'll be here when you get back."

Oscar held his gaze for another second, as if trying to convince himself that was true. Then he stood.

"I'll come back."

"I know you will."

Oscar fired a web toward the nearest building and launched himself back into the air. He didn't look back. If he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to leave at all. By the time Oscar returned, the fight was over. The streets were still littered with debris, emergency vehicles lined every corner, and smoke continued to rise between the buildings, but the chaos had begun to settle. Juggernaut had been restrained by S.H.I.E.L.D., Thor was helping move chunks of collapsed concrete out of the road, and firefighters had taken over most of the rescue effort. Tony landed a few feet away, the faceplate of his helmet folding back.

"You found him?"

Oscar nodded.

"He was inside the cinema."

Tony studied him for a moment before asking quietly,

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be alright."

Only after saying the words out loud did Oscar realize how desperately he'd needed to believe them himself. Tony gave him a small nod.

"Good." There wasn't much else to say. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion. "We're done here," Tony said. "Go."

Oscar didn't argue. He found Lando sitting on the back step of an ambulance while a paramedic packed away the last of the medical supplies. The blood had been cleaned from his face. Several stitches disappeared into his hairline above his left temple, covered by a small white dressing. His hands had been cleaned as well, the worst cuts covered with strips of gauze. He looked tired. More than tired. The kind of tired that came after your body finally realized the danger had passed. Lando looked up as Oscar approached.

"You won?"

Oscar nodded.

"It's over."

Lando let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh.

"Good."

Oscar crouched in front of him without thinking.

"How's your head?"

"It hurts."

"Dizzy?"

"A little."

Oscar frowned.

"What did they say?"

Lando glanced towards the paramedic who had treated him.

"They checked my pupils. Asked me a lot of questions." He rubbed absentmindedly at the back of his neck before remembering the bandage and stopping. "They said that unless I start getting more dizzy, throw up, or the headache gets worse, I don't need to go to the hospital." Oscar looked past him. The line of ambulances stretched almost to the end of the street. Every stretcher seemed occupied. "They're overwhelmed," Lando continued quietly. "There are people who need those beds a lot more than I do."

Oscar understood. He really did. It still didn't sit right. Lando had a history of head injuries. His eyes drifted back to the fresh stitches. The knot in his chest tightened.

"Come with me."

Lando frowned.

"Where?"

"The Tower."

For a second, Lando simply stared at him.

"The Avengers Tower?"

"They have medical facilities." Oscar spoke calmly, almost matter-of-factly, but Lando knew him well enough to hear the worry underneath every word. "I want someone to do a CT scan."

Lando looked away for a moment.

"I don't know. Os… Spider-Man… It's  the Avengers Tower… The Avengers!”

"Yeah? So what?"

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

"I just..." He laughed quietly, though there wasn't much humour in it. "I work in a cinema." Oscar waited. "I spent this morning arguing with someone about whether they could bring nachos into Screen Two." Another small laugh escaped him. "And now you're telling me to walk into Avengers Tower."

"It's just a building."

Lando looked at him.

"It is absolutely not just a building."

Oscar couldn't help the smallest smile.

"It is."

"No, for you it's just a building." Lando shook his head. "You intern there. You've had dinner with Tony Stark. You've met Captain America. You've probably borrowed Thor's charger at some point."

"I don't think Thor owns a charger."

Lando sighed.

"You know what I mean."

Oscar's smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"Lando." His voice was softer now. "I know you don't want to go." Lando met his eyes behind the mask. "But I'm not gambling with your head."

Silence settled between them. Not awkward. Just quiet. After a long moment, Lando nodded.

"Okay."

Oscar let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I'll stay with you the whole time."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Oscar stood, offering him a hand. Lando took it without another word. Only once they started walking did he quietly admit.

"I still really hope I don't run into Captain America."

Oscar glanced sideways at him.

"I wouldn't worry."

"Why?"

"He is as nice as you would think he is… and sometimes it's funny how he don't understand some modern thigs."

Somehow that wasn't nearly as reassuring as Oscar seemed to think it was. They took it slowly. Oscar could have crossed the city in minutes on his own, but with Lando holding onto him, he kept his pace steady, landing on rooftops more often than usual. Every time they stopped, he looked over his shoulder.

"You okay?"

Lando nodded each time.

"My head still hurts."

Oscar didn't like that answer, but at least it hadn't changed to worse. They continued toward the Tower in silence. The city looked different from above. Fire engines still crowded several streets, helicopters circled in the distance, and thin columns of smoke rose from scattered buildings. The worst of it was over, but New York was still trying to recover. A few minutes later, Oscar landed on one of the balconies connected to the residential floors of the Tower. He helped Lando over the railing before stepping inside himself. The building was quiet. It almost didn't feel real after everything that had happened outside. Lando slowed as they walked through the corridor, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Am I even allowed to be here?"

Oscar glanced at him.

"I don't know."

Lando looked at him, expecting a different answer.

"You don't know?"

Oscar shrugged.

"I'll talk to Tony."

That seemed to be enough for him. Oscar reached up and pulled his mask off. The cool air hit his face immediately. His hair was a mess after hours beneath the mask, strands sticking out in every direction, and sweat still clung to his forehead. He wiped at his face with the sleeve of his suit, only managing to smear another streak of dust across his cheek. Lando smiled. Oscar noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You smiled."

"I did." Oscar waited. "It's just..." Lando looked at him for a second before continuing. "It's nice seeing you as you again."

Oscar looked away first. Without the mask, he suddenly felt much more exposed.

"Come on," he said quietly.

They found Tony in one of the labs, speaking with Bruce. Both looked up as the door opened.

"There you are," Tony said.

Oscar walked over first.

"He hit his head…"

He said like a child snitching to the teacher and pointed at Lando, who suddenly was very red on his face and neck. Tony's attention immediately shifted to Lando. His gaze lingered briefly on the bandage above his temple before returning to Oscar.

"The paramedics checked him?"

Oscar nodded.

"They stitched the cut, but they didn't send him to hospital. They said there were too many casualties."

Tony gave a small nod.

"Fair enough."

Oscar hesitated.

"I was hoping..."

"You want a CT." It wasn't really a question. Oscar nodded again. "We can do that."

Only then did Lando step fully into the room. He gave Tony a small, polite smile.

"Good morning."

"Hi," Tony replied just as simply. Bruce just smiled and waved at him. 

For a moment, nobody said anything else. Lando stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans looking anywhere except directly at Tony and Bruce. Oscar watched him for a few seconds before the corners of his mouth lifted despite himself. Lando noticed.

"What?"

"I've never seen you this quiet."

"I'm in Avengers Tower," Lando answered under his breath, as though that explained everything.

"I understand," Bruce said with a small smile before turning back to do something on his tablet."Most people are like that the first time."

Lando let out a quiet breath that sounded suspiciously like relief.

"Good. I thought it was just me."

Oscar's smile only grew a little. For someone who could start a conversation with almost anyone, seeing Lando at a loss for words was unexpectedly endearing.

Bruce led them into the medical wing a few minutes later. Compared to the rest of the Tower, it was surprisingly simple. Bright white walls, a handful of examination rooms, cabinets neatly stocked with medical supplies. It felt more like a private clinic than part of the headquarters of the Avengers.

"You can sit here," Bruce said, gesturing towards the examination table.

Lando did as he was told while Bruce pulled the CT scanner up on one of the screens. Oscar stayed close, leaning against the counter with his arms folded. He hadn't taken his eyes off Lando since they'd arrived. Bruce noticed.

"He's going to be fine."

Oscar looked at him.

"I want to believe this."

"You don't sound convinced."

Oscar was quiet for a moment.

"He has a history of head injuries."

Bruce nodded.

"Tony mentioned."

Oscar looked back at Lando.

"I don't want to miss something because he looks okay.”

"Neither do we."

He finished entering a few details before turning to Lando.

"Any nausea?"

"No."

"Blurred vision?" Lando shook his head. "Loss of consciousness?"

"I don't think so."

Bruce nodded.

"Good.”

"The scan itself only takes a few minutes."

Lando stood, looking at the machine with a little uncertainty. Oscar instinctively stepped closer.

"I'll be right here."

Lando looked at him and gave a small nod. Bruce positioned him on the table before stepping behind the control panel.

"You'll hear the machine moving, but that's normal." The table slowly slid into the scanner. Oscar watched through the glass, his jaw tense. A few minutes later the table moved back out. "That's it," Bruce said. He turned back to the computer, opening the images as they appeared on the screen. Oscar tried not to hover. He lasted all of ten seconds. Bruce noticed him standing just over his shoulder and let out a quiet chuckle. "You know these take a minute to load."

"Oh okay…"

"And then I have to read them."

"Sure." 

Bruce glanced sideways at him.

"You can breathe."

Oscar hadn't even realised he'd been holding his breath. He let it out slowly. Lando had wandered over by then, stopping beside Oscar.

"You're more nervous than I am." Oscar didn't deny it. Lando gently nudged his shoulder. "I'm okay."

Oscar looked at him.

"I know. But I want to be sure."

Lando's expression softened. Neither of them spoke after that. They simply stood side by side while Bruce studied the scans in silence. The only sounds in the room were the quiet hum of the computers and the occasional click of the mouse as Bruce moved from image to image. Oscar tried to read Bruce's face. It was impossible. Bruce had the same calm expression from the moment they'd walked in. He enlarged one image. Then another. He leaned a little closer to the monitor before finally sitting back in his chair. Oscar's heart sank for a split second.

"What?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Bruce turned towards them.

"The scan looks good." Oscar stared at him. "No bleeding. No swelling." Bruce smiled reassuringly. "Considering what happened today, I'd call that very good news."

Only then did Oscar feel the weight in his chest begin to ease. Beside him, Lando let out a long breath.

"So..." he said quietly, "I really did come all the way to Avengers Tower just to be told I have a headache."

Bruce laughed softly.

"Essentially. And a concussion," he added. "A mild one."

Lando's smile faded a little.

"Oh."

"You'll need someone to keep an eye on you for the next twenty-four hours. Rest. No work. If the headache becomes significantly worse, if you start vomiting, become unusually drowsy, or anything feels different, you go straight to the hospital."

Lando nodded.

"Okay."

Bruce looked at Oscar.

"I'm assuming he won't be left alone."

Oscar answered before Lando had a chance.

"He won't."

Bruce smiled.

"I thought as much.”

They left the medical wing together, walking a little more slowly than usual. Lando still looked tired, but some of the colour had returned to his face, and knowing the scan was clear had eased at least part of Oscar's worry. They had almost reached the elevators when someone rounded the corner.

"Oh, hey, Oscar." Steve smiled when he spotted him. "I heard you were helping with the evacuation."

Oscar nodded.

"How's the shoulder?"

"Still attached," Steve replied with a grin. "I'll take that as a win."

Only then did his attention shift to the person standing beside Oscar. Steve offered a hand.

"I'm Steve."

Lando stared at it for half a second before remembering to shake it.

"Lando."

"It's nice to meet you son."

"You too mr. Captain… I mean Captain Rogers”

There was a brief silence. Oscar frowned almost imperceptibly. Normally, Lando would have already asked at least three questions or made some comment to fill the quiet. Instead, he simply stood there, shoulders a little tense, looking like he wasn't entirely sure where to put his hands. Steve smiled politely.

"Oscar's told us a lot about you."

Lando blinked.

"He has?"

"Only good things."

A faint flush appeared across Lando's cheeks.

"Oh."

Steve glanced at the bandage on his head.

"I heard you had a rough day."

"I'm okay."

"Glad to hear it." After another quick smile, Steve nodded towards Oscar. "I'll let you two get home. Take care."

"You too Steve!" Oscar replied.

They watched him disappear around the corner. Only when he was out of sight did they start walking again. Oscar was quiet for several steps. Then he looked sideways at Lando.

"Are you okay?”

"Yeah."

"You barely spoke.”

"I was just being polite." Oscar didn't answer immediately. Instead, he kept watching him. Lando noticed. "What?"

Oscar tilted his head slightly.

"Do you have a crush on Steve?"

Lando stopped walking so abruptly that Oscar took another step before realizing he wasn't beside him anymore.

"What?"

Oscar couldn't keep a straight face.

"I'm just asking."

"No!" The answer came so quickly that Oscar laughed. "I don't!"

"I didn't say it was a bad thing."

"It isn't a thing!" Lando rubbed a hand over his face, already regretting this conversation. "I was nervous."

"Why?"

"Because he's Captain America!"

Oscar shrugged. The elevator reached the ground floor with a soft chime. As the doors opened, Oscar nudged Lando lightly with his shoulder.

"You did fine."

Lando looked at him.

"You think?"

"I don't think Steve noticed."

"Good."

Oscar smiled to himself. That had probably been exactly what Lando had been hoping to hear.

— 

A few hours later, Lando and Oscar were sitting on the rooftop of the building across from the cinema. Or what was left of it. The emergency crews had long since gone, leaving behind little more than piles of broken concrete, twisted steel, and shattered glass. Floodlights illuminated the site while a few workers moved quietly between the ruins, assessing what could be salvaged. Lando let out a quiet sigh. He was going to miss that place. It hadn't been anything special. Just a small neighbourhood cinema that smelled permanently of popcorn and fresh coffee. The seats in Screen Two had always squeaked, the projector in Screen Four had a habit of acting up, and customers complained about something almost every day. Still… He'd liked working there. And there were so many memories tied to it now. Oscar showing up unannounced just to keep him company until his shift ended. Late-night screenings when the cinema was almost empty. Sharing leftover popcorn while waiting for the last customers to leave. It was strange how quickly a place could become important.

"You'll find another job," Oscar said quietly. "Maybe... I could ask Tony."

Lando laughed softly.

"With your working hours?" Oscar looked at him. "I think I'll pass." A smile tugged at the corner of Lando's mouth. "Besides, unless Stark Industries suddenly needs someone whose greatest qualification is making really good popcorn, I don't think they'd have much use for me."

Oscar smiled.

"You never know." He wasn't wearing the Spider-Man suit anymore. It was dark enough now that nobody could see them from the street below, and they'd come up using the stairwell anyway. There was no reason for him to keep hiding behind the mask. The evening breeze ruffled his already messy hair. After a moment, his smile faded. "I was really scared today." Lando turned his head toward him. Oscar was looking at the ruins of the cinema again. "I was really scared for you."

For a few seconds, Lando didn't answer. Then he nodded.

"So was I." Oscar looked at him. "I always am." Lando's voice was quiet, almost lost beneath the distant sounds of the city. "Every time you put that suit on." He swallowed. "I know you can handle yourself. I know you're stronger than almost anyone else. I know you've done this hundreds of times." His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the bandage on his temple. "But that doesn't stop me from thinking..." He hesitated. "that one day you might not come back."

The words hung between them. Oscar felt something tighten painfully in his chest. He'd spent so long worrying about what might happen to the people he loved that he'd almost forgotten they spent every patrol worrying about him, too.

"I don't want you to have to think about that."

Lando smiled sadly.

"But I do."

Oscar lowered his eyes to his hands.

"I can't promise it'll never happen. I wish I could."

Lando shifted a little closer until their shoulders brushed.

"You don't have to promise me that." Oscar looked at him. "I just need you to promise that you'll keep trying to come home."

Oscar's throat felt unexpectedly tight.

"I can do that."

Lando nodded once.

"Good."

Only then did Lando realize just how close they were. His breath caught in his throat. They had wanted this for so long. Both of them. For months, they had circled around their feelings, hiding behind lingering glances, almost-confessions, and every excuse they could find not to cross that final line. They both wanted more than friendship. They always had. Slowly, almost afraid that moving too quickly might shatter the moment, Lando turned his head until there was barely any space left between them. Their noses almost brushed. Oscar closed his eyes.

"Lando..." he whispered, his voice trembling just enough for Lando to hear it. "I'm scared... We're already risking so much."

Lando's heart ached. He knew exactly what Oscar meant. Loving Spider-Man meant living with fear. It meant wondering if every goodbye would be the last, if every patrol would end with Oscar coming home, or not coming home at all. But after everything that had happened that day, after nearly losing each other before either of them had found the courage to say what they felt, Lando knew he couldn't let fear make another decision for them. He smiled, soft and almost imperceptible.

"Then let's risk it one more time."

He had barely finished speaking before Oscar closed the distance between them. Their first kiss was hesitant, almost impossibly gentle. As though neither of them could quite believe it was finally happening. Oscar's hand found Lando's almost instinctively, their fingers slipping together as if they had always belonged there. Lando melted into the kiss, months of longing, worry, and unspoken love dissolving in the quiet space between them. There was no urgency. No dramatic rush. Only relief. The kind that settled deep in his chest, replacing the fear that had been there all day. When they finally pulled apart, neither of them moved very far. Their foreheads rested together, their breathing uneven, eyes still closed. For the first time in what felt like forever, the city around them disappeared. There was only Oscar. Only Lando. 

+1

Lando was enjoying his summer break. Once his stitches had been removed, Oscar had finally agreed that he could start looking for another job. Eventually, he found one in a small café that he and Oscar used to visit from time to time. It wasn't anything special, and it certainly wasn't his cinema, but the pay was similar, the hours fit around his classes, and for now, that was enough. He was on his way home from work, carrying a paper bag filled with pastries that hadn't sold by the end of the day. Glancing down at his hand, he let out a quiet laugh. He'd managed to cut his finger that afternoon, and the only bandages his new coworker had were covered in little Spider-Man faces. He couldn't wait to show them to Oscar.

He climbed the stairs at an easy pace, already reaching for his keys. Then he stopped. The apartment door was slightly open. A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Strange noises drifted from inside. At first he couldn't make them out. Then he heard something that sounded like a quiet, strained groan. Oscar. He didn't think. He eased the door open and stepped silently into the apartment. From the hallway, he could see a huge man standing over Oscar, both hands clamped tightly around his throat, forcing him backwards. For a heartbeat, Lando froze. Then panic took over. His eyes searched the apartment desperately until they landed on the baseball bat.

It had stood beside Oscar's bedroom door for as long as Lando could remember. Neither of them had ever played baseball, and neither of them actually knew where it had come from. He grabbed it. Oscar looked up and their eyes met. Lando saw it immediately. The panic. The fear. The desperate plea for him to turn around and run. He couldn't. Instead, he swung with everything he had. The bat slammed into the man's shoulder with a sharp crack. The impact barely seemed to hurt him. But it surprised him. His grip loosened for just a fraction of a second. It was enough. Oscar tore himself free, gasping for air.

Before Lando could react, Oscar had already stepped between him and the intruder, shielding him without a second thought. The apartment exploded into movement as the two of them crashed into each other. Lando stumbled backwards into the hallway.

"Get out of here!" Oscar shouted, never taking his eyes off the man. "Get out and call him!”

Lando backed out of the apartment. He knew he wouldn't be able to help. If anything, his presence would only distract Oscar. His hands were shaking so badly he nearly dropped his phone as he fumbled it out of his pocket. He scrolled frantically until he found the number Oscar had made him save werks ago. Tony Stark.

"Only for emergencies," Oscar had said.

Lando had laughed back then, teasing him that he doubted he'd ever need to call Iron Man. Now his thumb slammed against the call button. This was definitely an emergency. The phone barely rang once before the line connected.

"Stark," Tony answered immediately.

"Mr. Stark?," Lando gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "Someone's in our apartment. He's attacking Oscar. I…I don't know who he is, but he's huge, and Oscar told me to call you. Please... please help him. He isn't even wearing his suit!”

Tony's voice became calm and businesslike in an instant.

"Lando, listen to me. Are you out of the apartment?"

Lando looked back at the open front door. The sounds of furniture crashing into walls echoed from inside.

"Y-Yes. I'm in the hallway."

"Good. Stay there. Don't go back inside. I'm sending help now. Keep the line open."

Another loud crash shook the apartment, followed by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. Lando squeezed the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Mr. Stark..." he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please don't let him die.”

Oscar crashed into the coffee table, wood splintering beneath his weight. Pain shot through his shoulder, but he forced himself upright before the stranger could close the distance again. The man didn't attack. Instead, he smiled. Oscar's pulse quickened.

"There isn't a mask to hide behind now. No friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Just Oscar Piastri."

His own name sounded wrong in the stranger's mouth.

"Who are you?" Oscar demanded.

"I've already told you. You're asking the wrong question." The stranger took a slow step closer. "I know where you study." Another step. "I know which café your little boyfriend works at now." Oscar's jaw tightened. "I knew your class schedule. I know the route you take home. I know the little bakery where you buy breakfast when your boy oversleeps." Oscar refused to answer, but his silence was enough. The man laughed quietly. "There it is." His smile widened. "I was beginning to wonder if anything could get under your skin."

Oscar lunged. The stranger sidestepped effortlessly, driving an elbow into Oscar's ribs before shoving him across the room. Oscar barely caught himself against the wall.

"You've been watching us," he said through gritted teeth.

"For months." The answer came so casually it made Oscar's blood run cold. "I know your routines. I know your friends. I know what time Tony usually calls you after patrol. I know you still haven't told your aunt the truth." Oscar stared at him. None of that information should have been possible. "You know," the man continued, "you're actually quite difficult to manipulate." He sighed dramatically. "But Lando..." A grin spread across his face. "Lando looks much easier."

Oscar's heart stopped.

"Don't."

"I think I'll ask him a few questions." The man turned toward the hallway. "I'm sure he'd tell me everything I want to know."

Oscar launched himself forward, grabbing the back of the man's jacket.

"You're not touching him!"

The stranger tore free with surprising ease and continued walking as though Oscar weren't there. He threw another punch.The man caught his wrist.

"You know," he said quietly, leaning close enough that only Oscar could hear him, "the easiest way to break a hero isn't to hurt him." His eyes flicked toward the hallway. "It's to hurt the person waiting for him at home."

Fear surged through Oscar like ice water.

"Lando!" he shouted.

Before the stranger could take another step the apartment door exploded inward. Four armed agents stormed through the entrance, rifles trained on the intruder. A split second later, a vibranium shield tore through the air. It struck the stranger square in the chest with enough force to send him skidding backward across the living room. The shield ricocheted cleanly into Steve Rogers' waiting hand. Steve planted himself between the stranger and the hallway, his expression unreadable.

"That's enough."

Behind him, Natasha Romanoff entered with her pistols raised, while Sam Wilson landed on the fire escape outside the shattered window. Only then did Oscar risk looking toward the hallway. Lando was still there. Pale, shaking, but alive. Oscar finally released the breath he'd been holding.

The moment the apartment fell silent, Oscar moved. He didn't wait for Steve to tell him it was over. He didn't wait for the agents to secure the attacker. He ran.

"Lando!" Lando had barely taken a step into the apartment before Oscar reached him. He grabbed both of his shoulders, his hands trembling so badly they could hardly stay still. "Lando..." His voice cracked. "Are you hurt?" Oscar's eyes swept over him frantically, searching for blood, bruises, anything he'd missed. "Did he touch you? Did he… Lando." Oscar's hands tightened. "Look at me." Lando did. He'd never seen Oscar like this. Oscar was breathing too fast, his face pale beneath the streaks of blood and dirt, bruises already darkening around his throat. His eyes were wide with panic, desperately searching Lando's face for any sign of pain.. "Lando, please."

"I'm okay," Lando said finally, like someone just turned his brain on again.

Oscar didn't seem to hear him.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Lando…"

"He didn't touch me." Lando gently rested his hands over Oscar's. "I'm unharmed."

For a long second, Oscar simply stared at him. As if he needed to hear the words one more time.

"You're sure?"

Lando nodded.

"I'm sure."

Something inside Oscar finally gave way. The tension drained from his shoulders all at once. His grip loosened. He let out a shaky breath that sounded almost like a sob.

"Okay..." It was barely more than a whisper. "Okay..."

His knees buckled.

"Oscar!"

Lando caught him before he hit the floor, though the sudden weight nearly pulled him down as well.

"Captain!"

Within seconds, Steve Rogers was beside them, dropping to one knee.

"I don't know what happened!” Lando said, panic flooding his voice. "Oscar!"

Steve checked for a pulse before looking up.

"He's alive." Relief washed over Lando so quickly it almost hurt. "But he's exhausted," Steve continued. "His body's been running on adrenaline since the attack. Once he knew you were safe..." Steve glanced at the bruises around Oscar's neck and the growing stain of blood soaking through the side of his shirt. "his body finally stopped fighting."

Lando swallowed hard, brushing a strand of hair away from Oscar's forehead. Oscar didn't move. His breathing was slow and steady. But he was completely unconscious. Lando took Oscar's limp hand in his own and held it tightly.

"I'm here," he whispered, though Oscar couldn't hear him. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.”

— 

The Avengers insisted on taking them back to the Tower. There was nowhere for either of them to go. So the Tower became home for the night. The medical wing was unusually quiet. The only sounds were the steady rhythm of the heart monitor and the soft hum of the ventilation system. Oscar had been unconscious for nearly two hours. The doctors had assured everyone it was a combination of exhaustion, pain, lack of oxygen from being strangled, and the adrenaline crash that followed. Nothing suggested a serious brain injury, but they wanted to keep him overnight for observation. Lando hadn't left his side once. He was curled up in the chair beside the hospital bed, knees tucked against his chest, one of Oscar's hands resting loosely in his own. The city stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan glittering beneath the dark summer sky. Thousands of lights flickered like distant stars, while the real constellations shimmered above them. Normally, Lando loved this view. Tonight, he barely saw it. His thumb absentmindedly brushed across Oscar's knuckles.

"You scared me," he whispered, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "I thought..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. The words caught somewhere in his throat. A gentle knock interrupted the silence. Lando looked up.  Tony Stark stepped inside. He didn't say anything at first. He simply looked at Oscar lying in the hospital bed, then at Lando, who hadn't moved from his chair.

"You've been sitting there the whole time?" Tony asked quietly.

Lando nodded.

"I don't really want to be anywhere else."

Tony pulled another chair over and sat beside him. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, Tony sighed.

"It never gets easier."

Lando frowned.

"What doesn't?"

Tony leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

"Seeing someone you love get hurt." The words hung in the room. "You'd think after enough years you'd get used to it." A faint, tired smile crossed his face. "You don't."

Lando looked back at Oscar.

"I couldn't do anything."

"You called."

"I ran away."

"You did exactly what Oscar needed you to do."

Lando shook his head.

"I left him in there alone."

Tony's voice remained calm.

"You trusted him to do his job."

"And what if he couldn't?" The question came out almost as a whisper. "What if I'd been too late? What if you had been too late?"

Tony followed his gaze to Oscar.

"I've asked myself those same questions more times than I can count."

Silence settled between them.

"I don't think he's scared of getting hurt," Lando admitted after a while. "When that man threatened him... Oscar barely reacted." His fingers tightened around Oscar's hand. "But the second he mentioned me..."

Tony nodded slowly.

"He lost focus."

"He looked terrified."

"He probably was."

Lando turned to him.

"I've never seen him like that."

Tony smiled sadly.

"Because Oscar can accept almost anything happening to him." His expression grew serious. "But the idea of something happening to you?" He shook his head. "That's a different story."

Lando lowered his eyes.

"I hate that I'm his weakness."

Tony was quiet for a moment before answering.

"No." Lando looked up. "You're not his weakness." Tony glanced toward Oscar. "You're the reason he comes home." The room fell silent again. "Every hero needs something that reminds them why they're fighting." He smiled faintly. "For some people it's an idea. For some it's responsibility. For Oscar..." Tony looked at Lando. "It's you."

Lando felt tears sting the corners of his eyes.

"I was so scared."

"I know kid. I know"

"I thought I was going to lose him."

Tony's expression softened.

"Me too." He rested a hand on Lando's shoulder."And judging by the way he collapsed the second he knew you were safe..." Tony glanced at the unconscious young man. "I think he thought he was going to lose you."

Lando looked back at Oscar, gently squeezing his hand. 

"I wish he didn't have to carry all of this alone."

"He doesn't." Tony stood, giving Lando's shoulder one last reassuring squeeze. "Not anymore." He looked once more at Oscar before heading for the door. "Get some rest if you can."

Lando smiled weakly.

"I'll try."

Tony nodded. The door closed behind him. Lando settled back into his chair, never letting go of Oscar's hand. Outside, New York glittered beneath the summer sky. Inside, all he could do was wait for the person he loved to wake up.

— 

Two days later, Oscar and Lando returned to the apartment. Or rather, what was left of it. Lando reached for the front door, but the moment he pushed on it, it slipped off its broken hinges and crashed onto the floor with a deafening thud.

"Well," he muttered, staring down at it. "That's new."

He glanced over his shoulder at Oscar. He looked much better than he had two days ago. The bruises around his neck had already begun to fade, the stitches had come out the day before, leaving only thin pink scars behind. He was still moving carefully, but at least he no longer looked like simply breathing was painful. Lando stepped inside first. Every step crunched against broken glass, splintered wood, and shattered pieces of furniture. The apartment barely resembled the home they'd left just a few days earlier. They hadn't come to salvage everything. Just the essentials. Clothes. Important documents. Anything sentimental that had survived. Whatever the fight hadn't completely destroyed. Lando crouched beside the remains of the hallway table and picked up something lying underneath it. It was the baseball bat. Or at least what was left of it. The wood had split clean down the middle.

"You think we'll get our security deposit back?" Lando asked, turning the broken bat over in his hands.

Across the room, Oscar brushed dust off a cracked photo frame. The glass was shattered, but the picture inside, him and his uncle smiling at the beach years ago, had somehow survived. A quiet laugh escaped him.

"I seriously doubt it."

Lando sighed dramatically.

"Damn. I was kind of counting on that money."

Oscar looked up.

"For what?"

"I was going to buy a bike."

Oscar blinked.

"A bike?"

"Yeah."

"What exactly do you need a bike for?" Oscar asked, raising an eyebrow. "So you can fall off that too?"

"I'm planning on riding it," Lando replied with complete sincerity. Oscar gave him a look. Lando sighed."With a helmet."

Oscar stared at him for another second before shaking his head.

"Yeah... no. I don't think that's a good idea." He carefully set the photo frame into one of the boxes they'd brought with them before looking back at Lando. "It's probably for the best that you don't have the money."

Lando placed a hand over his heart in mock offense.

"You have so little faith in me."

Oscar snorted. Lando let the broken baseball bat fall to the floor with a dull clatter before making his way farther into the apartment. His gaze landed on the shattered mirror in the hallway. Scattered across the floor were dozens of old cinema tickets. Some were bent, others stained with dust or trapped beneath shards of glass, but a surprising number had survived. Lando crouched down carefully. One by one, he picked up the ones that were still intact, brushing the dust from each before placing them into one of the cardboard boxes. They were all that remained of countless evenings spent sneaking into late-night screenings after his shifts, of Oscar waiting for him outside with popcorn in hand, of rainy afternoons and lazy Sundays in the cinema that no longer existed. A small piece of their history. He carried the box into the kitchen.

The cupboards hung crookedly from the walls, and most of the dishes had shattered across the floor. But sitting on the counter, somehow untouched by the destruction around it, was a familiar black cat mug covered in dust. Lando couldn't help but smile.

"Hey," he called. "Look." He held it up with a grin. "Your cat mug survived."

Across the room, Oscar was digging through what had once been their living room.

"Your laptop didn't." He held up a twisted, cracked lump of plastic and metal between two fingers. "I'm not even sure we can still call this a laptop."

Lando winced.

"Oh..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I'm going to need a second job if I want to afford a new one."

"We'll figure something out."

Oscar crossed the room, gently taking the mug from Lando's hands before placing it inside the box with the rest of the things they'd managed to save. Then he turned back to Lando. Without saying a word, he slipped his arms around his waist and pulled him close. Lando rested his forehead against Oscar's shoulder, closing his eyes for just a moment. Oscar pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"You know..." he murmured, "you saved my life." Lando looked up. Oscar smiled softly. "I have to admit, it was completely insane." He chuckled quietly. "Charging a guy like five time your size with a baseball bat wasn't exactly the safest plan." His smile faded into something more serious. "But if you hadn't distracted him..." Oscar instinctively brushed his fingers over the faint scars around his neck. "he would have strangled me."

Lando's expression softened.

"When you put it like that..." He reached up and cupped Oscar's cheek. "Considering how many times you've saved my life..." A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I figured it was about time I returned the favor."

Oscar's eyes searched his for a long moment.

"You don't owe me that."

"I'd do it again." Lando smiled.

"So would I."

For a moment they simply stood there, surrounded by broken walls, shattered glass, and everything they had lost. Yet somehow, wrapped in each other's arms, neither of them felt like they had lost everything. They spent most of the day sorting through the wreckage of what had once been their home. Some things went into boxes. Others went straight into trash bags. Every now and then, they found something worth keeping, a book that had somehow escaped the falling shelves, a sweatshirt neither of them remembered buying but both refused to throw away, photographs that were wrinkled but still recognizable. By the time they packed the last box, the sun had begun to set. Oscar looked toward the window that no longer had any glass left in it.

"One last trip?" he asked quietly.

Lando smiled.

"To the roof?"

Oscar nodded. This time, he didn't let Lando climb alone. He stayed close behind him the entire way, one hand hovering just behind Lando's back, ready to catch him if he slipped. Lando rolled his eyes at the obvious overprotectiveness but didn't complain. Once they reached the rooftop, they settled into their familiar spot overlooking the city. Lando sat between Oscar's legs, leaning comfortably against his chest while Oscar wrapped both arms around him. He rested his head on top of Lando's hair. For a while, neither of them spoke. Lando simply listened to the slow, steady rhythm of Oscar's heartbeat. It was reassuring. Proof that he was still here. After everything that had happened, that was enough.

"You think living at the Tower is a good idea?" Lando asked eventually.

Oscar was quiet for a moment.

"I don't know if it's a good idea," he admitted. "But it's definitely the safest one." His arms tightened ever so slightly around Lando. "At least until we figure out who that mutant was... and whether there are more people out there who know who I am."

Lando watched the city lights flicker on below them.

"It's going to feel strange."

Oscar chuckled softly.

"It's going to feel very strange." He rested his cheek against Lando's head. "But it's only temporary." After a brief pause, he added quietly, "The only thing that really matters to me right now is keeping you safe."

Lando closed his eyes.

"I love you."

The words slipped out so naturally that neither of them thought about them at first. Lando had said I love you countless times over the years. Back when they were just friends, he'd thrown the words around with embarrassing ease, after Oscar brought him coffee, after they spent an evening watching movies, after Oscar fixed something Lando had accidentally broken. But this… This was different. This was the first time he'd said it since they had stopped pretending they were only friends. Oscar's breathing caught. For a second, he simply held Lando a little tighter. Then a smile spread slowly across his face.

"I love you too," he whispered. The words felt both new and familiar all at once. "I don't know what's waiting for us." He looked out over the skyline, the Avengers Tower visible in the distance, their uncertain future standing just beyond it. "There'll probably be more bad days." He smiled to himself. "Maybe even more apartments we'll accidentally destroy." Lando laughed quietly. "But whatever happens..." Oscar kissed the top of his head. "We'll figure it out." He intertwined their fingers. "Together."

Lando didn't answer. He simply turned in Oscar's arms until they were face to face. For a moment, he studied him, the fading bruises, the small pink scars on his neck, the tired eyes that still somehow managed to look at him with so much warmth. Then he leaned forward and captured Oscar's lips in a long, unhurried kiss. The city carried on beneath them. Cars moved through the streets. Sirens echoed somewhere in the distance. The wind swept gently across the rooftops. For just a little while, none of it mattered. There was only the two of them, holding each other as the sun disappeared beyond the New York skyline, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it side by side.