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There's a famous phrase that goes ‘killing two birds with one stone.’ Except, what if this time, one manages to get away? Oscar was deep in thought, completely unaware of his surroundings, it was the usual set-up in the McLaren hospitality.
It is oftentimes AND always this way. There are moments where he chooses not to notice, but there are some times where he can't help his own ears from hearing.
Oscar was a tight man. He reads through the rules like he had eidetic memory, he memorizes every turn, and he recognizes each track just by its smell and temperature. Everything is so far damn serious—and professional. Well, occasionally.
“Protect queer art!” There goes his teammate, Lando. He wouldn't say they were complete opposites, different ends of a thread, not really. But there is an obvious gap in their distinctiveness. As Lando has once said, “Life isn't rainbows and unicorns.” While Oscar would've just said “So that's life, huh?”
Speaking of his teammate, he had been listening to music nonstop ever since he got his new pair of earbuds. His previous ones either got lost or got flushed down the toilet. ‘I mean-who the hell listens to music while taking a shit?’ Oscar let out an exhausted huff, his posture slouched on the sofa. “What?” He mutters with his eyes closed shut and his arms crossed right below his chest, his weirdly vibrant orange cap covering his face. Ready to take his power nap.
Lando whips his head towards his direction, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, didn't see you there. I'm listening to Troye Sivan.”
It's ‘One Of Your Girls’ isn't it?
“You know, One Of Your Girls?” Lando wore his right earbud back in. ‘Did I say that out loud?’ Oscar wonders.
But he doesn't question. Very Lando.
The Austrian GP had just been done, not very satisfying results, but he knows it could have been way much worse. Thank heavens. Back out there, numerous cameras, microphones, a large crowd. They're all used to it. Every single driver on the grid has it embedded in their minds. Yet sometimes, it feels too much or too heavy. Not every race has the same outcome—maybe it does, but it may not be for others. Unlike in a game of chess, some players make the same move twice or thrice consecutively with a different opponent, in one round he loses, in the other he wins. In racing, perform the same way more than once and they'll call you a fraud.
Draining. But it's a good thing he notices. He notices how it's almost always the same. With Lando specifically. So Oscar decides. He wants to try something new. Unknowingly, his cap was no longer covering his face. Lando is sitting down, legs crossed in a way that looks… very uncomfortable. His head kept bobbing up and down, probably because of the music still. He can't help but notice the sharpness in his features. “Lando, do you know how much your jawline looks like an obtuse angle?”
They were sitting across from each other, so Oscar's voice echoed. Lando felt the light vibration of sound, so he looked up. He detaches one of his earbuds from his ear. “Did you just call me an angel?” Oscar rolls his eyes.
¤¤¤
“This is just ass.” Lando laughs at Oscar. “You're just bad at it.” They were playing It Takes Two at Lando's place. Both of them swear they have no idea how the situation went from fighting over who gets to cook dinner to sitting down on the carpeted floor yelling at each other about who goes first. “You don't like going in front, but you also don't like being behind. Lando there's only two of us.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like it's a habit. A habit he only has whenever he's around Lando. “Plus, I'm sure this is not how it should be played-” Lando was screaming again.
“Okay you're right. This is ass.” He almost throws the controller, Oscar dumbfounded. They've barely made any progress anyway, he guesses it's fine. Better than hearing his teammate whine every time he falls. “But but but, look!” He looks over Lando's phone. “Food is here. So, yay!”
Oscar stood up, both of them abandoning the game. Like always. Both of them think it's beautiful. How everything comes naturally, already becoming a routine. There are no surprises, but they still manage to make it entertaining. “Okay, I know I ordered this for myself.” Oscar pokes a piece of orange glazed chicken with his fork. “But you HAVE to try this. I promise-” Lando dramatically stands up and backs away from the table. “Last time you promised, I lost my appetite Osc.” He shakes his head in dismay. Oscar just laughs. “Fine, just know that you're missing out on so much.”
Hanging out with each other never felt like a chore. No force needed. Neither had to beg. They would find themselves within the vicinity of the other, done and tired of the absence of personal space, but really, it's what they both choose to allow.
“Lando, I'm not usually the one to start talking but, I've been wondering.” Oscar almost laughed as he watched Lando stop himself from chewing, cheeks stuffed with whatever he was eating. How lovely.
He rethinks his question. “You ever wondered what would happen if we, you know, ended up on bad terms? Or ended up not being teammates at all?” Lando made a big gulp. “Okay, first of all, I appreciate you for initiating. But I don't feel like crying today. And I hate how straightforward you are.” Oscar let out a soft chuckle. Trying his best to coat the forming feeling in his chest. The silverware clanked against the ceramic plates, hopefully loud enough to shield his awfully loud and fast heartbeat.
Because what Oscar really wanted to ask was, what if they both chose to be more?
Ever since the news came out—about Lando ‘ending’ his relationship which he knew about already anyway even before the confirmation—Oscar's thoughts were restless. One main reason for it is because he refuses to ask about it. Every time he heard the woman's name, or even saw her face, he disliked how it made him feel uneasy. Oscar did like her, though. He just didn't know why it made him feel the way he feels. So as much as he didn't want to, he chose to accept.
“I honestly don't know, mate. Let me ask Zak.” They both laugh. “No but seriously, I think we still may have met. I mean, you raced with my best friend Max.” Oh right. Oscar nods. “And there were lots of connections, don't you think?” He drinks from his glass, chugging the juice like he was dehydrated. Lando leans back into his chair.
“I don't think that was what you really wanted to ask. You already know the answer to it.” It was the tone in his voice he recognizes, the tone he uses whenever he talks about something serious. Lando sits up straight this time. “Oscar, of course I've noticed how much you've been staring into space probably thinking about things that shouldn't be thunk. And sometimes I catch you looking at me like I'm someone who can easily break. I mean, true. But still.” Their eyes meet. Air almost got stuck inside of Oscar's throat. Are you scared of something, Oscar? He remembers his mom asking him that. That’s how Lando sounded like and it made him vulnerable.
He clears his throat. “Nah, it's nothing.”
“...Sure.”
Oscar prepared to stand up when Lando spoke again.
“Osc, I hope you know you're the constant to my inconsistencies.”
¤¤¤
Lando barely slept the whole night. Was he too emotional? Was he too forward? His wonderful dreams were instead replaced by endless thoughts. Lando was overthinking. And as if the universe heard him, his phone lit up. The brit groans as he reaches for the device. It was a message from Oscar.
Osc 🧡
I can hear your mind all the way from here. It's 3am.
A smile immediately made its way to his lips. ‘How does he fucking do that?’ Clicking on the notification, he stares at it for a little while before responding.
Lando (do not disturb)
you're obsessed with me are ya? stalker
Lando could almost hear his chuckle, as well as envision the fake annoyed look on his face.
Lando (do not disturb)
uhm about what i said earlier…
Osc 🧡
So about last night
Oh.
Lando (do not disturb)
oh.
Osc 🧡
I'm calling.
No time was wasted in answering that call. “Hey.” Lando began, heart racing, his hands trembling. “Everything alright? Your recent re-post was fourteen minutes ago, and I wondered why you were still awake.” Lando played with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “Oscar, I don't know. I think I'm scared.” He could hear Oscar shuffling from his phone's speaker. “Scared of what?” His voice was now clearer, meaning he probably got up from lying down. “That we drift apart. Oscar, we're not even sure if we'll stay like this forever. I'm happy how everything's going so well but what if there comes a time where it doesn't and- and-” There's panic in his voice, and it makes the Australian panic as well.
“Lando-”
“I've been thinking, and I don't know what you have been thinking but what if- we- we- there's a lot more to come in our careers. We can't even be emotional like this for long because any sign of emotion means weakness in this fucking sport.” Lando finally breathes.
For a while, both chose to not utter a single word.
“Oscar, it's scary that everything we do feels normal. Do you get it?” This time, it's both of them thinking the same thing. “It's scary because any time now, it might not be normal.” It felt like he was being strangled. And Oscar knows. He knows how much of a crybaby Lando was.
“I am SO used to the consistency, the routines, the natural flow of what we have-i mean what do we even have exactly? When did this even start?” He interrupts himself. “It scares me that one day, one of us gets used to it?”
“Lando. Listen.” Oscar felt a painful tug in his chest the moment he heard sniffles. “Lando, I will start from what you said last night.” Lando nods as if the other could see. “I…” He trailed off, but continued right away. “I really love what you said.” Lando swallows the lump in his throat down to his stomach, ignoring how much it's been aching. There's something different in Oscar's tone, and for once, maybe change wasn't so bad after all. “Racing is always different, Lan. Every race has a different result. Will it rain in the next one? Will we even finish the next one after that? We never know. But you made me love the repetition of the things we did.” Lando stared at the ceiling as he listened, tears still running down the side of his face. “So if you did love it the way I did too, I get why you're scared that this might feel like a sport too.”
Oscar was able to calm Lando down, and it was irritating on the brit's part. All he heard from other people was that he's absolute chaos. But how come with Oscar, he's like this? Composed, patient, quiet, and reserved. “After what you said, Lando. I figured. That what matters is as long as it's always going to be the two of us. Beyond that, I don't mind surprises.” Oscar didn't know his voice could go even softer than it already was. Like he was talking to a baby.
“And since when did you start speaking like that?” Lando tried to lighten up the mood. “Haha, I always speak like this.” The two knew this conversation was dangerous. It could either turn out really great or really bad. Change is new to them, so not only was it terrifying, it was starting to feel suffocating.
So if Oscar really didn't mind surprises, asking one more question wouldn't hurt, right?
“Lando, what is this that we have?” His voice echoed through Lando's bedroom. Like it was a call for response. It rang in his ears in a way he didn't want it to. Yet somehow, his heart felt like it needed to. He replayed the question multiple times in his head. Oscar never repeated himself, but it's almost as if he did.
Lando ends the call.
Oscar opens the door. Wide.
He never went home, he never does. Lando always sleeps alone in his bedroom and Oscar always at the living room's couch, whenever he's over at his place. Lando begs him not to drive out in the dark streets, warning him about the broken streetlights where he might not be able to see the road ahead. “Oscar.” He breathes out, unsteady.
“I'm sorry. For asking that.”
“No no no, I just-” He sits up. Then taps the space beside him on his bed. Oscar follows, hesitant at first, but he's right there anyway.
Lando's heartbeat escalates the closer he gets. They sink down the mattress as Oscar sits. Without daring to look each other in the eye, Lando finally finds himself responding. “What do you want us to have?” Lando knew he shouldn't answer back with another question, Oscar hates that. Although this time, he doesn't seem to mind. “Lando, look at me.”
His entire body froze, he could feel his palms sweating, his brain cells malfunctioning—if that's how it works. Lando's cheeks turn warmer. He finally looks up to meet his eyes. Suddenly, the atmosphere was charged with something unrecognizable. This time, it didn’t scare Lando. It didn't scare Oscar either. The more Lando looked, the more Oscar's eyes spoke that sparked something inside of him.
Slowly his eyes travel down to Oscar's lips, then back to his eyes. His eyes held so much deepness, it made Lando fearless and wanting to fall. It's like there's a voice telling him that ‘if you dare kiss him, that settles it.’
If Oscar doesn't want to answer, that's good. Because Lando had just found the right words. “I want us to have something worth it to remember. To anticipate for, to feel excitement for. Encounter surprises together, remember all the new things, look back on our firsts-” Oscar's smile grew wider and wider that he couldn't help it anymore.
His hands moved fast, with minds of their own, to cup Lando's face, pull him in. And there it goes.
Both of their eyes are closed, feeling into the kiss. Their first kiss. Oscar's lips felt good, tasted good, felt good, has he said that already? Lando felt like he had won a championship. Again. Their skins are warm against each other. Hands started to roam around, and just like that, a purely emotional and confessional kiss slowly turned into a heated argument amongst their tongues. Oscar bit onto Lando's bottom lip, making the latter wince and open his mouth, their tongues now fighting for dominance.
Lando pulls away to look at Oscar, then kisses him again, pulling him down along as he lays his back on the mattress. The sunrays start to peek in between the gaps of the curtains, almost fully lighting up the room. But that didn't stop them. Oscar kisses Lando like he's hungry, in need, desperate. They moan against each other's mouths, then humming in response. The kiss was like give and take.
Everything about it was new, different, extraordinary. But it wasn't scary anymore.
A string of saliva linger at the tip of their tongues as they pull apart, Oscar still hovering Lando. “Is this the ‘something‘ you want?” Oscar speaks, still catching his breath. Lando only nods, a warm smile shown on his face. Oscar leans in, kissing the tear stains on Lando's cheek. “Crybaby.”
“You love me.” Lando says, which caught Oscar off guard. “Well, maybe I do.” Lando wasn't wrong. And either way, their eyes never lie. “Loving you is the ‘something’ that I want, Lando.” Oscar kisses him again. “We don't have to be scared about the unfamiliar anymore. Because what's truly constant is us.” As long as they're together, finding a sunflower in a garden full of roses wouldn't be so overwhelming at all.
“I love you too, Oscar.” Lando pulls him hard, making Oscar fall on top of him, their chests making a thud. “Ow.” They share a laugh, a laugh that's not like the ones they used to share. “I guess this break isn't going to be boring after all.” Oscar buries his face into the crook of Lando's neck, muffling his voice a little.
None of them dared to bother whether they had washed the dishes from last night, turned off the TV, or turned off the nightlights. Having each other in their arms like this, is definitely something worth remembering.
“Okay that's enough, let's have sex!”
“LANDO.”