✨✨

“I always liked you,” Lando said.

Oscar couldn’t help but let out a scoff. Oscar was far from insecure, but he also wasn’t delusional.

“Oh, so all those Ibiza and Brazil trips you were thinking of me the whole time?” Oscar looked up, smirking. He wasn’t blind to Lando’s escapades, heard a few of the wildest stories through their mutual friends. Saw a few photos, too. “I’m flattered.”

As romantic of a thought it was, they both knew it wasn’t true. “Okay fine— maybe not the whole time,” Lando smiled back sheepishly. “But like… when you were around, yeah. Race weekends were the worst. Sometimes it was hard to focus. Had to sit on my hands to not touch you.”

That, Oscar could believe. He’d never had a partner as touchy and openly affectionate as Lando — it was a gift.

Now, as Oscar looks around his apartment, he wonders why he ever kid himself. He never even let himself believe he could make it to F1 — even as a kid. He was a realist. But here he was, 25 years old kidding himself into thinking him and Lando could actually last and be something real. The worst part was his lovesick thoughts were completely out of his control. The second he had Lando, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted him all, forever.

Lando hadn’t cared about the stuff he left behind at Oscar’s flat. Of course. Stubborn and deflective and avoidant. Had finally replied to Oscar’s text about when he wanted to pick it up, two weeks late, “just throw it out, thankss!”

Empty and polite— like he was texting the work WhatsApp group. It always fucking bothered Oscar how bad of a texter Lando was as if he wasn’t constantly on his phone anyway. Once they finally got together, Lando was better— for him specifically. Always sending a good morning and good night text in the rare weeks they spent apart. Oscar always had a spam of Lando texts to wake up to. Mirror selfies, and pictures of his breakfast and friends’ dogs and everything in between. Gym pics with way too much skin and sweat — demanding praise for being a good boy and working hard at the gym. Oscar would indulge.

Mark knew, which was half embarrassing and half a relief. It made it easier that Oscar didn’t have to explain— didn’t have to lie about why he was constantly with his teammate, why he was so happy all the time, why he had started traveling and going out more. That part was nice but now it kinda sucks that Mark knows.

It feels even worse when Mark tries to probe him, with his wife as backup. Oscar should’ve known them inviting him out to their farm wasn’t without purpose. They had only invited him to stay overnight 2 or 3 times before. They had invited him out for the first time when Oscar got the news that he wasn’t getting an F1 seat. It was devastating having to finish out the F2 season knowing there’s no seat waiting for him at the finish line. Then another time he had spent some more nights there overnight in the lead up to the McLaren seat. To celebrate, to talk, to make sure the contract didn’t fuck him.

Now— they probably wanna make sure he wasn’t a depressed wreck or something. Oscar wasn’t. He really wasn’t. He was always good, especially now. Maybe he wasn’t feeling it yet bc he hadn’t let himself think it’s really over. Deep down he thinks maybe Lando would come back. Open, heart shaped smile and curly hair and big hands.

Sure, the season was starting soon and he wasn’t sure how he was gonna spend 2 weeks in Australia surrounded by family and everything else and not go crazy but it’s okay. He knows at least, that he won’t give anything away. If he could hide from them how euphoric he felt when he was with Lando, he’s sure he can hide the bad parts too.