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“It’s finally summer break,” Lando mumbles. He starfishes on the couch at the MTC, glancing over at his teammate.
Oscar is standing a little ways away, arms crossed, as he talks to his engineer, says his last goodbyes. After he makes his rounds, because he’s just polite like that, he approaches Lando, who quickly closes his eyes, feigning sleep.
He can’t be caught staring at Oscar like, like a lovesick idiot or something.
“Come on, mate. I don’t even know why you’re pretending to be asleep.”
Lando cracks one eye open. “What do you mean? You were taking so long, I fell asleep.”
Oscar gives him an exasperated look, but he doesn’t say anything, merely grabbing his and Lando’s suitcases instead and heading straight for the door. Lando scrambles off the couch and hurries to keep up with him.
“Do you want to drive, or should I?”
Lando finishes shuffling his Capri-Sun pouches around the cooler and gives his neat stacks a small pat before tossing Oscar his keys. “You drive. I feel like being a passenger princess today.”
“You’re a princess every day,” Oscar mutters, rolling his eyes. “Just not a passenger, I reckon.”
Hah, why did Lando propose a road trip to the beach again?
Oh right, because Zak and Andrea wanted them to bond as teammates. Definitely not because Lando leaped at the opportunity to get Oscar shirtless. Or stare at him as he carefully backs out of Lando’s garage, putting an arm around the headrest of the passenger seat as he turns his head, giving Lando’s eyes direct access to the line of his neck, and-
-and, oh, he smells nice. Like fresh laundry.
Lando bites down on the urge to climb over the center console and back into the driver’s seat while Oscar is still in it and shove his nose into the crook of his neck.
He wants to do a lot of things, but he chooses to curl up against the door and gaze out the window as buildings melt into nature.
“D’you reckon anyone will take pictures of us? At the beach?” Oscar wonders aloud.
“Yeah, mate. I’ve seen myself on my For You Page more times than I’d like. From every angle too.” Lando sniffs in faux indignation. “Even the bad ones.”
“You don’t have bad angles.”
Oh, Lando wants to kiss him so much it aches behind his ribs.
Lando finishes setting the umbrella up and promptly chokes.
“My God, give a man a warning, won’t you?” he blurts out, causing Oscar to turn around in confusion, and, Christ, the front of his shirtless body is even better than the back.
Oscar lifts an eyebrow. “It’s a beach, Lando. Everyone’s in swimwear.”
In retaliation, because he’s just a girl, Lando takes his own shirt off and flops down onto his blanket, pretending to swoon. Now, they’re both shirtless. He really didn’t think this through, but on the upside, he can practically feel Oscar boring holes into the material of his shortest, sluttiest pair of swim shorts with his eyes.
“I still need a warning for such a lovely view, Oscar!”
Lando wonders if Oscar’s blushing because of him, all the way down his neck and coloring his pale chest red, but he’s too comfortably positioned on his belly with his head pillowed on his arms to check.
He’s quickly left alone to doze.
Just as Lando is sipping his third Capri-Sun, he spots Oscar coming back from the water, glistening and wet, and he has to pinch himself to make sure he isn’t still dreaming.
“Can you do me?” Oscar asks, sitting at the foot of Lando’s blanket and getting it damp. The audacity, honestly.
“Actually, I’d rather you do me-”
“I meant my back, Lando. Like, reapply my sunscreen.”
Disappointed, Lando plucks the tube of sunscreen from Oscar’s backpack and tries not to appear too eager to get his gremlin hands on his teammate’s back. It suddenly strikes him that he’s about to feel up every single one of Oscar’s muscles, and he panics, accidentally squeezing too much cream into his hand with an obnoxious noise.
Oscar turns. “That didn’t sound good- oh.”
Lando smacks the sunscreen onto his back and watches in horror as the thick glob slowly treks down Oscar’s shoulder blade. It kind of resembles a snail.
Well, that thought is certainly effective in killing any hope of a boner in Lando’s shorts.
Oscar snorts. “Spread it for me, won’t you?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Lando plasters himself to Oscar’s back, unnecessarily extra as he spreads the sunscreen all over it. He hugs Oscar, just for the sake of it, and Oscar lets him, not even flinching when Lando wraps his arms around him.
It’s not weird. They’re teammates, and they spend plenty of time together, and they hug plenty as well. The difference is that this time, the only thing between them is a thick layer of sunscreen.
“Oh my God, get off of me,” Oscar complains after the moment expires. “You’re too hot.”
“I am very hot, thanks for noticing!” Lando chirps, squealing as Oscar nudges him away and onto his beach blanket. He lands on his bum.
But Oscar is making a face at him in that awkward way, when he doesn’t exactly want to smile but can’t help it. When he finds Lando and his silly antics endearing and doesn’t want it to show on his face.
Lando hates him.
No, he doesn’t.
Obviously.
Oscar curls a hand around Lando’s ankle, absentmindedly rubbing circles on the inside and driving him absolutely bonkers. Lando inhales sharply, too full of a feeling that he doesn’t want to put a name to because it’ll be too real the moment he does.
“Oscar, your tan lines are horrendous,” he says instead, voice coming out squeaky. He wraps his arms around his knees and hides in them.
“That’s why you put sunscreen on me. Remember?”
Lando laughs, embarrassed. “Oh. Right. Wait, I don’t think it works like that?”
The silence that settles over them isn’t uncomfortable, per se, but he wants it gone.
“Are you going back into the water?”
Oscar shakes his head, sending little droplets of water flying from his hair and onto Lando’s skin. “Too tired. I’m going to nap.”
He has to know what he’s doing to Lando’s poor heart when he lies down right next to him on the blanket that’s too small for both of them and yawns. Lando’s pulse rabbits as he swallows around his own saliva.
“Are you just going to sit there and stare, or are you going to join me?”
Lando didn’t know that was an option. “Uh-”
Blowing out a breath, Oscar pulls him down and into his arms. Lando immediately relaxes before tensing up again. This is far more intimate than a simple hug from behind.
His stomach churns, and it’s not just because the ocean reeks of fish. Blood roars in his ears… or maybe it’s just the ocean. It’s probably just the ocean.
“You’re thinking too much. I can practically hear it, mate.”
“Then close your ears.”
“Whatever you want.”
Then kiss me.
Wasn’t Oscar the one who complained about it being too hot for skin-to-skin contact earlier?
Lando blushes, finally giving into his urges and tucking his face into the juncture of Oscar’s collarbone. It’s just cuddling under the comfortable shade of their massive umbrella, on the beach, where there’s hardly anyone else around. It’s just cuddling, and it’s perfect, and he loves Oscar.
Oscar lets out a little snore.
God, Lando is so fucked.
On the drive back to the heart of the city, Lando sneaks furtive glances at Oscar, who appears as nonchalant as ever. He looks away again.
“So… are we going to talk about it?”
Lando jumps, peeling his gaze away from the window and the views passing by outside. “What?”
“Your feelings.”
“My feelings? What feelings? I don’t have feelings.”
Oscar huffs a laugh. “Sure, mate. Then let’s talk about my feelings.”
“Huh?” Lando is so lost. “You don’t have feelings.”
“I’m pretty sure I do. You don’t want to hear about my feelings?”
Falling silent, Lando twists his hands together in his lap. At last, he blurts out, “I don’t know if I do, mate.”
The line of Oscar’s shoulders softens. He momentarily takes his eyes off the road to look at Lando. “I mean, if that’s what you want. But I was so certain that you’d want to know that I’m in love with you.”
“Oh.” Lando’s heart lurches in his chest. That’s only everything he wanted to hear and more. Exceeding expectations, that’s just like him. “Pull over, Oscar.”
They’re probably less than ten minutes away from Lando’s flat, but Oscar doesn’t question him. He does as he’s told without a moment’s hesitation, even putting Lando’s car into park.
Oscar doesn’t look the least bit surprised when Lando crawls into his lap, braces his hands on his shoulders, and kisses him.
The waves settle at last.
“How did you know?” Lando asks later, from his perch on the kitchen counter. He swings his legs idly and accepts the chunk of apple held up to his lips.
“I wasn’t a hundred percent certain at first,” Oscar admits. “But then you let me drive your car.”
Lando can’t help the giggle that leaves his mouth. “I suppose that is as revealing as it gets, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
Love does feel rather nice when it’s not bearing down on him like the harsh summer sun.