#osclo

chapter one is FINALLY HERE!! this fic has been my pride and joy for the past ten months. noah kahan has put me through countless breakdowns for this.

title and chapters are from ‘dial drunk’ by noah kahan. i feel this is essential listening for this fic, especially chapter 1.

this fic has A LOT of trigger warnings to it - they are all placed within the notes. please DO NOT READ if any of them could be triggering; especially if alcoholism isn’t a super comfortable topic for you.

the final two chapters should be coming within the following days! if you read and enjoy, please leave kudos or comments! they motivate me to write more

   Oscar tightened the clasps on his commoner’s cloak before pulling the ragged hood over his head. He turned to the prince, his lips curled into an amused smile as he watched him struggle. After a few minutes of silent laughter, Oscar decided to end his relentless wrestle-match with the linen cloak. Amidst the prince’s irritated mumbles, he gently took the clothing from his hands. 

   At Logan’s stunned and somewhat offended face, he chuckled. “Turn over, your highness. I’ll help you.” 

   “I could have done it.” The prince whined, yet still followed Oscar’s request. The bodyguard laughed as he draped the material over Logan’s rich silk. 

   “If I had let you do it, we would’ve left tomorrow.” He teased lightly, as his fingers worked, deftly adjusting the cloak to fit the prince’s broad shoulders. Then, he pushed the cloak over his head, successfully messing up the maid’s meticulous styling on his blonde locks. Oscar was going to have to apologise to her later. “Done.”

   Logan fidgeted with the strayed ends of the clothing, a sad excuse as compared to his usual voluminous ones. “It’s itchy.”

   His words startled another laugh out of his bodyguard. “Yeah, well, deal with it. You said you wanted to experience the Solstice with me, so you better deal with it.” He then frowned at the realisation of how thin the material was. “You sure you don’t need an extra layer? It’s going to be freezing out there.”

   Logan shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I’m not shivering now, see?”

   “There’s a raging fireplace in front of you.” Oscar deadpanned as he doubled a fur cloak over his clothing. “You sure?”

   “I’ll be fine, Osc. Don’t worry.”

   It’s my job to worry, especially with my head on the line if you die of frostbite. But Logan was also the prince, and every single command and request of his had to be followed, no matter how stupid it was. Oscar sighed. “If you say so.”

   Logan grinned, his hand resting on the spine of Assassins through the Ages. “Shall we go then?”

   For most of their childhood, the two boys had spent their time uncovering the secrets of the castle, searching every nook and cranny for hidden entrances and concealed switches. Oscar didn’t know whether to regret this — Logan usually used them to escape from his lessons — or applaud it — they were very useful for sneaking food from the kitchen. Now, as he consulted the hand-drawn map the two had created, he applauded it. A hidden switch behind Assassins through the Ages made for a perfect beeline to the village. 

   Logan hummed thoughtfully as he ran his hands along the stone walls. “What’s so special about the Winter Solstice?”

   “Well, the Winter Solstice happens in the kingdom every 22nd December. It marks the first day of winter, and symbolises the coming of light through the dark.” Oscar replied. This was the first time the two of them were to spend the Solstice together, for Oscar usually went back to his family to celebrate. Logan had been curious, so Oscar made a — probably unwise — decision to invite him over to his place for the celebrations even though the prince was grounded for being late to one of the royal events. 

   Logan nodded along, although Oscar wasn’t sure he was actually listening. They descended through the bowels of the palace, their path lit only by a single lantern that Oscar held on to tightly. Soon, the shadows thinned as the tunnel came to an end and light streamed through the wooden trapdoor above the two. According to the map, it was supposed to lead to one of the abandoned warehouses in the village.

   Oscar cautiously pushed it open, bouts of dust falling into the hole. He coughed and fanned the air. He gestured for Logan to enter. “You go first, then pull me up.”

   Logan nodded before gripping onto the wooden frame and pulling himself up, Oscar gently supporting his ascent, his hands firm on the prince’s waist. He coughed and rubbed his nose upon reaching the warehouse, shaking out his clothes as he straightened. Then, Logan extended his hand out to Oscar, who took it immediately, albeit a bit too eagerly. The prince’s grip was firm and his hand was warm. Oscar found that the sensation was making his face flush. 

   He let out a few coughs upon reaching the dusty location, rubbing his chest. Logan raised an eyebrow at him in concern. “You okay? You look a bit red.”

   Oscar’s face reddened further. He coughed again to try and cover it up. “It’s… dusty.”

   Logan nodded, but the bodyguard could see that he was not fully convinced. The prince rubbed his arms slightly before pulling his linen garb closer to his body. “It’s cold here.” 

   “It’ll be even colder outside.” Oscar warned with a slight sigh. He ran a hand through his hair before adjusting his hood. “Ready?”

   The prince shivered. “Yeah.”

   With a flourish, Oscar flung open the wooden door. Almost immediately he shivered, the autumn breeze wrapped around him albeit the various cautions he took. He rubbed his arms subconsciously, trying to generate more warmth. 

   Oscar thought it was working, that is until a warm pair of arms snaked around his waist, holding him tight and pulling him close to the shuddering prince. His face grew warm. He hoped Logan wouldn’t notice. 

   “What are you doing…?” He whispered, though the streets were too noisy for anyone to pay them any heed. 

   Logan nuzzled his face into Oscar’s knitted scarf. “Getting warm.”

   And he was getting him warm too. The bodyguard’s blush darkened. “I told you to wear extra layers, you dolt.” He said his words in a scolding tone, though there was a hint of laughter behind them. 

   The prince chuckled and held him tighter. “You don’t mind… do you?”

   Oscar rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stop a smile from forming. He sighed. “I don’t.”

   Logan’s face brightened. It was cute. It didn’t help the blush fade. “So, where are we heading?”

   “My place, remember?”

   “Wait, so we’re not staying in the village to enjoy the festivities together?” 

   He seemed almost disappointed. Oscar gave him a deadpan stare. “No. I already told my family you’ll be coming over and Olivia’s convinced you’re a fairy prince.”

   “What?” Logan sounded a mix of perplexed and flattered. He furrowed his brows, his nose tinted with red from the cold.

   Oscar wanted to laugh. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint her, right?”

   Logan didn’t. Although Olivia hadn’t been born the last time he had met with Oscar’s family, the framed pictures in his room were enough to make the prince find the girl absolutely precious with her missing tooth and chestnut pigtails.

   The prince sighed. “So, where are we going? Where is your house anyways?” 

   “You’ll see.”

   Every single time he had met the Piastris was in the castle, where Oscar had invited them to stay in. Logan was more than welcoming. He had never actually been to or seen his bodyguard’s childhood home. The pair of prince and bodyguard weaved their way through the crowded streets before stopping at a rusted iron gate marking the entrance to the woods. 

   Logan’s grip on Oscar tightened as he surveyed the sight. Although it was yet to pass the afternoon, the woods were already darkening. The prince had heard rumours of the ominous location, and wasn’t all that eager to enter. Oscar shook his head at Logan’s fearful expression, his dark bangs falling into his face as he grinned. The soft glow from its orange-blue flames of the lantern drew shadows on both of their features and lit a path through the dense trees.

   “It’s not that scary.” Oscar comforted with a smile. Logan didn’t seem convinced, hugging the bodyguard tighter. 

   “Your house is in the woods?” The prince’s voice shook, his face slightly pale albeit the red spots of cold. “I heard that people who enter don’t come out…”

   Oscar laughed. “That’s nonsense. I’ve entered tons of times, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”

   “Maybe that only works because you’re from the woods! I’m not, what’s gonna happen to me?” Logan’s grasp strengthened with every word he spoke, his heart racing. Oscar could hear its heartbeat pounding in his ears. He chuckled softly, before gently prying his hands off of his waist and squeezing them with a smile.

   “You’ll be fine. You’re with me, remember?” 

   Oscar could’ve sworn he saw the prince blush. But judging from the weather, it was probably just the cold. A smile curled on Logan’s lips as he nodded, letting his hand drop to the side as he held on to Oscar’s with a firm grip. “Right.”

   With a smile, the two of them descended into the bowels of the forest, the fading autumn light guiding their way. 

   The woods were silent, the lantern Oscar held up the only thing illuminated their path. Shadows quivered around them as leaves scrunched under their boots, venturing deeper into the forest. Logan was itching to unsheathe his sword, Oscar’s confident stride the only thing preventing him from doing so. That and the frigid temperature that was inevitably paralysing him. But Oscar’s hand was warm and his grip firm — firm enough to stop Logan’s imagination of what lies in the woods. 

   The first snow had fallen ages ago, and its descent wasn’t getting any slower. Logan had one of Oscar’s many fur jackets draped over his body, otherwise he would’ve frozen to death. Logan didn’t even bother arguing when Oscar offered it to him — partly because of his chattering teeth and partly because it felt good to wear something of Oscar’s. It smelled good too — burnt hickory wood with hints of cinnamon and honey. 

   The falling snow and wind didn’t cease, instead getting stronger with each minute. Logan squinted at the white forest. His hand squeezed Oscar’s before asking, “Are we there yet?”

   The wind howled around him and a snowflake entered his eye, but Oscar’s voice still cleaved through the pandemonium. “No… we need to find shelter.”

   For the first time throughout this whole journey, Logan heard Oscar waver. Of course he would falter. These were the woods of Williams, prone to rumours and disappearing travellers. The deluge of wind and snow were telltale signs of what could be a blizzard. Logan was terrified and shivery, but he knew he had to be strong. 

   For Oscar.

   He held the bodyguard’s gloved hands tightly — not scared, just steady. The prince craned his neck, blue eyes scanning for a sign of a shelter through the raging winter. Spotting a cave, he tugged Oscar along with a small smile though he could barely make out his companion’s features through the snow. 

   Any other time, the cave in the woods would have frightened the young prince, fantastical stories of mystery clouding his imagination. Now Logan would rather brave the dark and damp than freeze to death in the blizzard. Oscar struck another match against the rock before lighting up the kindling he had pocketed from the prince’s fireplace. Always so prepared, he was. The bodyguard placed the fading lantern beside them as they huddled close to the flame, elbows touching. 

   Logan rubbed his numb hands together, trying his best to suppress a sneeze. He glanced at Oscar, who was strangely silent. The flames were reflected in his hazel eyes, his expression unreadable. The silence was tense. Logan didn’t like it.

   He nudged Oscar gently. “You okay?”

   The young man jumped, before rubbing his nose with was tinted red. “I— yeah, I’m fine.”

   The prince knew Oscar long enough to detect a lie. He frowned. “What’s wrong? That’s an order.”

   The bodyguard hesitated. “I, um… I’m just worried.”

   Logan stayed silent, waiting for him to elaborate. Which he did after a few breaths. “I’m worried about a lot of things, to be honest — my family being caught up in the blizzard, the two of us not making it to my place, my family worrying about us not making it to my place… a lot of things.”

   Then there were the unspoken words: I’m worried that we might not make it back. 

   Logan didn’t blame him for worrying. He opened his mouth to speak, to comfort him, to tell him that everything was going to be alright. But Oscar spoke once more. His eyes met Logan’s, and the prince could see a mix of emotions in them — worry, desperation and a hint of fear. And something else. It made Logan’s heart race. 

   “Logan,” Not ‘your highness’ or ‘milord’, but his very own name. Oscar’s eyes were pleading. “Do you know what happens to me if you don’t make it back?”

   What about you? Logan wanted to ask. Instead, he just shook his head. 

   “They’ll have my head on a stake.” Oscar let out a bitter laugh though nothing was funny. 

   “What-!?” The prince didn’t even know exactly why he was surprised. He was the sole heir to the Williams Kingdom, and was frankly endangering his life just by being out of the castle. Adding on, he was technically grounded so he was not supposed to be out of the castle anyways. Logan wanted to yell at Oscar, ask him why the hell did he allow his life to be on the line because of his charge’s stupid decisions. 

   But he didn’t. 

   Because he didn’t regret it. 

   If he hadn’t done all the stupid things he’d done, he wouldn’t be in a dark cave seeking refuge from a blizzard, huddling over a flame in a commoner’s cloak. He wouldn’t have been able to don Oscar’s fur jacket and be this close to him any other way. 

   Logan must have been quiet for too long, because Oscar frowned and nudged him slightly. “You okay?”

   A grin curved on Logan’s lips. Before he even registered what he was doing, the prince found himself leaning in towards him. “Want your head on a stake?”

   Oscar’s face was red, moving back on instinct, as he shook his head.

   Logan’s grin grew. He shifted closer to his bodyguard, their noses almost touching. “Then I’m gonna have to get warmer.” 

   Logan was never a pushy person, and Oscar liked that about him. He would never force his decisions onto anyone and valued Oscar’s advice, though his hyper-curiosity did get annoying at times. Oscar wasn’t the type of person to rush things. He preferred to take everything slow and into consideration, calculating every single move with caution. 

   But now, with Logan’s lips a few centimetres away from his own, he couldn’t help but wish he would move faster. The tempestuous weather outside the cave’s solace seemed to be dull and muffled and the fire’s crackling softened to a quiet sizzle. Oscar felt Logan’s breath on his face, misting with the cold, the scent of something minty and fresh. 

   Logan seemed to blush, as a small smile appeared on his lips. He looked almost shy, the playful exterior giving way to a bashful side of the prince. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I… kiss you?”

   Adrenaline rushed through his senses, driving all sound out from that moment. For a single second, Oscar replayed those words in his head. Can I kiss you? He knew the answer. It had been in him for all those years, all those times the two had spent together. But now, when his dream was finally realised, the words seem to clog in his throat. But for once, Oscar couldn’t care less. He wasn’t that talkative, after all.

   In a heartbeat, Oscar pressed his lips to Logan’s own. 

   And almost immediately, Logan reciprocated.

   Fireworks erupted in Oscar’s belly, butterflies taking flight as his heartbeat raced. It started out tender, like the first snowflake that had landed on Logan’s nose. The prince caressed Oscar’s cheeks gently, spreading a soft blush across the bodyguard’s features. Epinephrine pulsed through Oscar’s veins and pushed him forward. He pressed himself closer to Logan, who seemed to have the same idea. It got deeper. Oscar savoured the taste of Logan’s lips — it felt so soft. 

   So right.

   Only when they both jerked away, gasping for air did Oscar truly realise how much he craved it. How much he needed Logan. 

   The fire went out with a gust of winter wind, sending chills into the refuge of the cave. Almost immediately, Logan wrapped his arms around Oscar in an embrace, his teeth chattering. Oscar chuckled, flushing crimson. Logan gave him a childish pout before he laughed too. It was genuinely adorable to Oscar, sharing this moment with him. The realisation still hadn’t sunk in yet. This was Crown Prince Logan Sargeant of the Williams Kingdom, sole heir to the throne. 

   He had kissed the Crown Prince Logan Sargeant of the Williams Kingdom in a cave in the middle of the woods directly defying orders from the King and Queen. 

   And Logan had kissed him back. 

   This was Crown Prince Logan Sargeant of the Williams Kingdom, sole heir to the throne. His best friend, freezing-cold and draped in a linen commoner’s cloak. 

   And he was his.

   Logan learnt a valuable lesson that day. And no, it wasn’t not to be late for major events that would inevitably leave you grounded. The prince wrung the edges of his wet cloak, drenched from all the melted snow. Beside him, Oscar stood with a smug grin, showered with Olivia’s bright-eyed awe. He nudged Logan teasingly. “Up for a rematch?”

   The prince glared at him. “No.” He replied flatly.

   Oscar laughed. “Afraid of losing again, your highness?” His voice was lilted with playful mirth. Logan chuckled dryly. In competitions like this, the bodyguard’s competitive side truly came out in full force. Note to self: Never challenge Oscar Piastri to a snowball fight. In all his shivering glory, the prince wished he’d known that sooner. 

   He rolled his eyes at Oscar’s words, before an idea entered his mind. His mouth curved into a cheeky smile. “Well, as the winner of our match… what would you like as a prize?”

   Oscar turned red. “I…uh…”

   Logan didn’t mind losing if it meant that he could see his friend looking this much flustered. The prince stood up, a good few centimeters taller than him. He leaned in closer to Oscar, a smirk riding on his lips. “Want me to choose one for you?” 

   A small nod was all the confirmation that Logan needed. The prince captured Oscar’s lips with his own, kissing him gently. His lips tingled with pleasure as warmth bloomed in his chest. He could get used to this. Logan pressed harder against him, deepening the motion ever so slightly. 

   An excited intake of breath and a following squeal made them both pull away. 

   Olivia stood, stunned and eager, before the two of them, her toothy grin ever so evident. She clutched her handsewn doll tightly. Logan was pretty sure his face was on fire. The little girl giggled, her chestnut pigtails bouncing slightly as she looked at them. 

   “Oscy!” Her small voice had a teasing hint. “You kissed the fairy prince!” 

   Logan exchanged a glance with Oscar before he laughed. “I’m actually a merman prince.” He grinned proudly. “Wanna see my—“

   Oscar facepalmed beside him. “Don’t you dare.”

   The prince gave him a cheeky smile, coupled with a chuckle. He bent down to whisper in Olivia’s ear. “I’ll show you my tail some other time, ‘kay?” 

   The girl’s eyes widened like saucers, sparkling like diamonds. “Okay!” was all she said before running back inside the Piastris’ house, probably to gush about meeting an actual prince.

   “How exactly are you going to show her your tail?”

   “I’ll figure something out. I always do.” Logan straightened, before turning back to Oscar with his signature grin. “Now, where were we?

notes: olivia is a purely fictional character !!

written by @princeofpyrenee + edited and finished by @dappledstars ; 2023

word count: 3425

“I’m sorry, guys.”

It was just a practice session, yet the remorse from it stung like salt to a wound for Logan.

No, the pain he felt couldn’t even be compared to salt on an open scar. It was like he had been thrown into a deep pool, and he couldn’t swim out.

P20. P20 for qualifying, and he couldn’t even improve his time with another fresh set of softs.

Logan exhaled shakily, letting the mask he put on in public drop as he slammed shut the door to his driver’s room. He wasn’t going to let the media, the fans, the haters know that he was not in his best shape at the moment.

P20. What a disgrace, only in Formula One because of backing money.

Why is he even in this sport? Latifi deserved the seat more than him.

Williams should have taken Nyck de Vries as soon as possible instead of this waste of grid space.

The echoes. Logan’s heart was racing. He inhaled deeply once more, exhaled, but as if he was drowning, the air got knocked out of his lungs immediately, but not like when he was in love.

Logan Sargeant shouldn’t deserve to race at all.

He raised his clammy fists, rubbed them on his face despite his muscles protesting, not even noticing that cold sweat was already beading at his eyebrows. He breathed loudly, fast-paced, savouring every bit of oxygen that was able to enter his lungs, which wasn’t much to him. Once again, he didn’t notice that this time, tears were already flowing down.

He let his brain then wonder to why he can’t be as good as Oscar. Oscar, who went into almost every stage of life with him. Oscar, who was always with him. Oscar, who did wonders this qualifying, being able to drive so fast he got p2 and p1 at points in time. Oscar, who he needed next to him right now, needed his embrace.

James isn’t defending you because he wants you to stay in the team, it’s because he wants to keep his reputation.

A sob tore through Logan. The echoes were getting more and more loud, more overwhelming, so loud he didn’t hear the sound of his driver’s room door clicking open, and when he did, he didn’t even bother looking up.

“Benny,” he muttered, grinning a bit, trying to find that lost mask that he had just dropped minutes ago, but not even bothering to look up.

It wasn’t Benny.

“Logan…” That voice.

A blur of orange emerged, kneeling in front of him. Logan’s cheeks were still wet with tears, tears that couldn’t seem to stop flowing.

“It’s okay, breathe, breathe” The calming voice muttered, a pair of warm yet strong arms enveloping Logan’s body. Another sob, and another, as Oscar ran his hands through Logan’s hair softly, in a way that did help Logan feel better, but he was still trembling.

“Logan, it’s okay. It’s okay. James isn’t going to get you replaced, it’s okay.” Oscar whispered into Logan’s ear, pressing a soft kiss to Logan’s temple, in hopes of calming him down. His slate nomex was being stained by Logan’s tears, but he didn’t seem too bothered by it.

Oscar’s warmth was comforting, comforting enough to slow down Logan’s hyperventilation. He held Oscar tighter, burying his face into the brunette’s neck. His tears lessened, as Oscar pressed his lips onto Logan’s messy blonde hair.