Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tuesday - the week after the Miami race

Oscar walks into the McLaren garage, heading straight towards Zak brown and Andrea Stella. Greeting them, “Good morning.” a large smile on his face, they greet him. They continued to talk until a loud shout came from outside the garage, it was Lando— yelling at the press.

Zak and Andrea look over annoyed. They storm over and stop him, quickly apologising to the press. Zak pulls Oscar up to the press to show off his “picture perfectness.” He talks to them, he talks strategies and just race highlights from Miami.

He hears Zak and Andrea yell at him. He hears the interview, wishes him well in Italy, then leaves. Oscar walks back into the garage, annoyance had taken over his face. Lando was grinning— grinning, ear to ear. God, Oscar wanted to punch him. He took a deep breath and stayed calm. Zak continued to yell at Lando, Andrea just glared. Oscar sighed as Lando walked off to the sims.

hours go by— the day had gone by, Oscar was waiting for his uber to the hotel, Lando waited nearby. Oscar walks up to him. “Do you have to be an asshole all the time?” Oscar’s voice was full of annoyance. Lando looks over at Oscar, “what?” Lando groans. “What do you mean, what? literally this morning you started yelling at the press!” Oscar faces him, his voice raising as he talks. “it's whatever-” Lando starts before getting cut off. “Whatever?! no! it isn't whatever- it's your job! if you don't care about anything but yourself then why are you even a driver!” Oscar shouts in his face, as his uber pulls up, in front of them. “it is whatever- it's not like the team wants me.” Lando mumbles as Oscar climbs into his uber, he rolls his eyes. quickly flexes his neck and glares at lando before muttering words. He slams the car door and the car drives off.

Lando gets to his hotel, before realising his flight to Italy was in a few hours. He packs quickly, he calls another uber, it was an uber share because of course it was too late in the night to get an uber to himself. He carries his bags down the stairs, because he just had to have more bad luck— the elevators were broken. well one of them was, the other was on the other side of the building. He wasn't walking down stairs just to walk to an elevator. He just walked all the way down.

By the end he was exhausted, but he was on the lobby level. He waits for his uber share, it arrives, he puts his bags in the boot. He sees a familiar looking bag but ignores it. It was a popular bag… he walks to the back seat and opens the door to see his best friend— not. his biggest rival.

Oscar Piastri or Picture Perfect Piastri, Zak likes to call him. Lando groans as he sits in the car. He was hoping he wouldn't have to see Oscar's face for another say— 12 ish hours. But he has the curse of bad luck, of course. He puts his headphones on and closes his eyes til he feels a tap on the leg— or a smack on the leg. Oscar. Of course.

Lando takes off his headphones, “what oscar.” Lando grumbled. “We're here.” Oscar mutters. They go through security and baggage, they get on their plane and of course again with the bad luck, they are sat next to each other in first class. He needed some good luck and he was willing to wait for it.

Chapter Text

wednesday - the day before media day for italy

Oscar and Lando had flown in at the same time. on the same plane. in the same class. right next to each other. Lando was non stop bothering the flight attendants. walking to the bathroom, a girl or two following behind, then walking out 5 minutes later disheveled. Lando always walked out polished and neat. Oscar glared.

He had a movie on. Rio, of course—his second choice but they didn't have 'The Gentleman'… he was calmer when Rio played but his annoyance was still there, Lando's smirk only made it worse. Nearly every woman on the plane walked into the bathroom neat and walked out a mess. What was it with Lando and always making a mess? God, Oscar hated him. Pure hatred.

The plane landed and it was two something in the morning. They walked off the plane, walked to baggage claim, found their bags and left the airport. A driver waiting for them to take them to a hotel by the track.

It had only been booked yesterday, so there was only one room. 2 beds. But still, Oscar's rage set in and rose up his neck. Tension filled the air. They arrive at the hotel, they get their room key and go to their room.

It was rather large but not large enough to thin out the tense air. The view was gorgeous, Oscar stepped out onto the balcony and just saw the lit up city. He smiles, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived. Lando’s voice echoes throughout the hotel room, “yo. where u at?” Lando shouted over the phone. Clearly talking to someone who was out partying. Oscar turns around and glares at him.

Oscar walks over to him, “shut up.”—he glances down at his phone. “It's 3:16 am.” He mutters, tiredly but also full of annoyance. Lando smirks and continues to talk loudly. Before hanging up the phone, shoving past. He walks to his bag and grabs out a black button up. He yanks off his shirt and puts it on. Then yanks down his sweats, to pull on some jeans and black sneakers. making a mess.

Oscar quickly turns away, embarrassed—clearly more reactive than Lando, who didn't even say anything about where he was going before rushing out the door. Oscar groans and sees the mess Lando made. He couldn't stand it. He hated messes. He tried to ignore it—20 minutes go by and he stood up after refolding and packing Lando's bag. Not that he deserved it. He then goes for a long, hot shower and goes to bed.

Meanwhile, Lando had around 4 girls surrounding him, not that he could tell because he was drunk out of his mind. He just felt hands all over him, he didn't mind. He loved the attention, made part of him feel wanted—sort of… he feels his body fall onto a couch, boredom growing. Even if he had a set of girls he could pick from—he wanted to annoy Oscar. his favourite activity.

He pushes the girls off, gets up and walks to the middle of the party to well… hide from them. He pulls out his phone, unlocks it, and searches for his contact. He thinks for a moment maybe he shouldn't. But of course, he does it anyway. his thumb pressed ‘call.’

Lando had to call several times for Oscar to wake up and answer it. “Hello?” His voice is groggy and full of sleep. Oscar didn't have his number saved so he thought some stranger had just called him but then that irritatingly loud music hits him. “ugh, Lando what.” his voice now full of grogginess, sleep and a large amount of annoyance. “heyyyyy osscccccccc" Lando loudly said over the music. “whatcha doinnnnn’” he giggles. he giggled. Oscar heart skipped a beat at the sound, maybe he was just shocked...

Oscar couldn't believe- actually yes, he could believe this. “trying to sleep, but some asshole thought it would be funny to call me at 5am.” Oscar mutters, just wanting to sleep. 3 hours more of sleep sounds like heaven. “woah, who would do that.” he giggles. Oscar hangs up the call and goes back to sleep.

8:30 arrives, Oscar forces himself up. He yawns loudly. He climbs out of his bed and walks up to the other bedroom, to wake up Lando because Oscar knew he wouldn't have an alarm set. He knocks on the door and calls out Lando’s name. nothing. He slowly opens the door. The room was empty, the bed hadn't been touched. Oscar groans.

Lando was in… someone's hotel room, but not his. He wakes up, a pounding headache. He was extremely hung over. He reaches for his phone, 23 percent. Fuck. he calls Oscar, he doesn't pick up til the 5th ring. “Oscar?” Lando asks sort of quietly. “where are you?” Oscar asked because he knew he would need some way to the track. “About that…” he laughs awkwardly “i don't actually know… where i am.”

Lando stands up, Oscar yelling in his ear. A blonde guy? A blonde male lying shirtless on the bed. What did Lando do? His head rings loudly, he groans. “fuck.” He says in pain. He looks for his stuff and leaves the hotel room. “Lando?” Oscar asked, then continued “What's wrong- other than your hangover…” Oscar sounded more worried than he should've. But he was just nice, but it quickly fades. Lando gets annoyed by all the questions. “shut up.” He mutters.

Lando walks outside the hotel and he is at the Hilton. Their biggest sponsor. He ran, sort of fast. “Lando, what is happening?” Oscar asked, now annoyed. “i was at the Hilton.” He says as he slows down. “i'm now at the-” Oscar cuts him off. “Our room is at the Hilton.” Oscar groans. “oh- right…” Lando starts walking back to the Hilton. He gets to the room, Oscar lets him in. Then gives him a very long speech as if that would change anything that happened last night.

Hours go by—it was now time for the media. Oscar walked around the paddock smiling and enjoying his day, while Lando walked around, talked to probably 3 interviewers then walked to some empty seats and sat down. His head still felt heavy and was still pounding hard. He closed his eyes, just trying to remember anything about last night.

Oscar was now talking to an interviewer on how he thinks the team will do this race. “i think we'll do pretty good with my neatness while driving and Lando’s speed. But other than that, I still think with the strategies we have will push us, hopefully over the podium line.” Oscar laughs at what he said.

Oscar goes through several more interviews before walking up to a group of the other drivers. “oh hey guys.” they nod my way, acknowledging me while they continued to talk about the party that Lando went too. “Did anyone see Lando, he had like 4 girls over him then left with some guy.” George Russel says, while laughing. “yeah- we saw him” Ollie Bearman says, talking for the rookies, while they were all laughing.

The day had been so long, I walked up to Lando and asked if he's going back to the hotel. “Yeah. I've got a pounding headache.” Lando says quietly, they both say bye and leave. In the car to the hotel, Lando asks Oscar a question that cut whatever string of friendship they had. "Hey Oscar, did you see the way Zak and Andrea were talking? They looked pretty close…” Lando, laughs. For some reason, that set Oscar off. “Leave them alone, they were just talking. Media day is loud, okay?! They're both married. You idiot. God, you make me so annoyed.” Lando flinches slightly, the car goes silent. The only noise was Lando searching for a water bottle.

The driver pulls up at the hotel. Oscar gets out and storms off to the room. He grabs some clothes and goes for a shower. Lando walks into the room, expecting to see Oscar and tease him… guess not.

Chapter Text

Oscar's POV

sunday, race day in italy

Friday and Saturday went by in seconds, or at least it felt like it. I came 3rd in practice and 2nd in quali 3 which is pretty good and all that matters really. I'm surprised at how well I did in quali 3 because I had a stick cut me in quali 2. When I was driving a decent sized stick flew through my halo, cut through my suit and cut my shoulder. It was a decent cut, which made it hurt more. I should've said something but didn't.

Lando on the other hand, came 5th in practice and 10th in quali 3… he dnf’d, Charles fault by the way. He's pissed because of it and of course I have to deal with it. He won't shut up, “oh Charles fucked me over” this and “I hope Charles dnf’s too, that piece of shit” that. He talks about it like I care.

I stand up from my seat in the McLaren garage. “Where are you going?” Lando asks. “Away.” I respond bitterly. I walk off to my driver's room to get into my race suit. I shirtlessly stare into the mirror, looking at the cut. It wasn't getting any better, it was probably getting infected with how much I sweat on a daily basis. It stung as I pulled on my fireproofs. I slowly pull them up, trying to prepare myself for the pain. I could feel the throbbing pain, I tried to ignore it. Tears line my eyes because of the pain, I pull on my race suit and zip it up.

I hear Lando walk into his driver's room, slamming the door like usual. I wiped my eyes, they were still glassy though. The pain continued, it never seemed to weaken.

—

I pulled on my helmet and quickly pulled down the visor so I could stop hiding the pain in my eyes. I climb into the car, I get strapped in and drive out into P1.

As the race started I was ahead by about 1.30 seconds, Max Verstappen started nearing me, but I kept him behind. Lando flew past Max but couldn't pass me. I wouldn't let him. Kimi Antonelli and Esteban Ocon both dnf’d. I felt bad, but I focused on the race.

By the end of it, I managed to drop to third, Lando coming second, which made Max Verstappen come first. We both got podiums, so that meant celebrating. Not that I wanted to, the pain hasn't stopped for the whole 63 lap race.

We have our podium, champagne ceremony before going back to the garage. Zak and Andrea, ready to congratulate us. Zak hugged me tightly, making me wince in pain. He pulled back, worried I injured myself during the race.

“I'm fine Zak, you just hugged me too tightly.” I tell him, trying to get him to believe it. He nods. And goes to talk to Andrea. I grasp my shoulder, pain evident on my face, Lando glances over, my hand drops.

Lando walks over, and quietly says “you good?” I mutter, “mhm. fine.” I walk off to my driver's room. I close the door and quickly rip off my suit and fireproofs. My shoulder is still in agonising pain, swollen and red. Clearly infected—my fist connects to the mirror, creating a very loud shattering sound.

I pull my hand away, covered in blood. I couldn't find a reason for punching the mirror, the aching of my shoulder and now also my hand taking over. I hear people walk towards my driver's room. I quickly pull on a Mclaren top. Blood dripped everywhere.

“fuck.” I muttered. I step back, but end up tripping back. I hit the ground, my head smacks the ground. Giving me a headache. God damn, I am having a horrible day. I hear a knock on the door. I get up hiding my cut hand before opening the door. It was Lando—of course it was. He just had to come bother me.

“Oscar? What was that noise?” He asks, like he knew it was my doing. “Nothing- I'm fine. why- uh… why do you ask?” I stuttered, clearly not sounding very believable. I feel something drip onto my leg. Blood. Fuck. I need to get my hand checked out. But no one can know.

“it just was really loud and came from over here… but anyways…” He rolls his eyes. “Zak and Andrea want you. They want to congratulate you.” He mutters. “Yeah, I'll be out in a minute.” More blood drips down. My voice is rushed. I quickly closed the door in his face. I turn around and stare at all the blood and shattered glass on the ground.

I put it all into a corner, cutting my fingers in the process, blood was everywhere. I quickly try to find a cloth that I can cover my hands with—eventually I find one, I grasp it with my hand not that it stops the bleeding or pain. I ached. I quickly leave my driver's room, and try to quietly sneak away to the medic—but with my bad luck, Andrea calls me over. I walk over to him. “What's up?” I muttered, the agonising pain had only gotten worse. The cloth was covered in blood.

“Come,” He tries to get me to take a seat and have some champagne. “take a seat.” He continued, he hadn't looked at me yet, so I tried to make a run for it, before he does. “Uh, I- I can't.. I have to go…” I rush off, I hear his voice call out to me. But he gives up. I run to the medic, to try to avoid the interviewers.

I had lost so much blood, I started feeling lightheaded. I get to the medic. Looking very pale and drowsy. “Help me..” I managed to say before falling to the ground fainting.

Lando’s POV

I sat in the Mclaren garage after the race, my engineers congratulating me. Zak and Andrea only really cared about Oscar, even though he came third. I ignore it and go on my phone.

—

It had been a while since I had seen Oscar, the last time I had was when Andrea tried to get him to drink but he rushed off. I haven't seen him since, something deep in me was a little worried but I ignored it until I saw a medic rushing up to Andrea and Zak. She whispered so only they heard. Panic coursed through them.

I quickly stand up and rush over to them, panic and worry running through me—why am I so worried, you ask? I don't know. But Oscar not being safe or okay, created a very large pit in my stomach. “What happened?” I desperately ask. “Oscar fainted, because of blood loss and an infection” The medic told me.

My face went pale. I knew something was right when he opened his driver's room door. Shit. I should've said something. I run to the medical room. I see him on a hospital-looking bed. Connected to blood bags and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. “Osc…” I whispered. I never call him ‘Osc,’ why am I calling him it now?

Oscar's eyes slightly open, as he wakes up. “Osc- oh my god-... your okay- oh my god…” My heart was pounding, my watch started to beep. ‘Heart rate is above average. Take deep breaths.’ a message on my watch. I ignored it, I was too focused on Oscar.

He weakly pulls off the oxygen mask. “Osc?” He questions the nickname. I pretend to use it as a tease. “Yes, Osc.” I said in a teasing manner, which helped to hide the worry. I smirk.

His normal annoyance came back, he's okay. If he can show enough strength to be annoyed at me, I'm sure he's okay. I look over his body to make sure nothing was injured, I then see his hand. “Oscar? What happened?” I ask in a new, more serious manner. “Oh uh… nothing.” He mumbles. Nothing? Really Osc? You think you could play off several cuts on his hand. “Tell me.” My voice is now very foreign. It's.. forceful and serious. It was always just teasing or playful… or at least that's how I talked when he was around.

“Fine. I cut my hand on glass—well more like… I punched the mirror in my driver's room. Don't ask why- I don't even know why I did it.” Oscar responds. I wasn't pleased. The pit in my stomach just… grew? My eyes rake over him again, my eyes spot the cut on his shoulder. That was very clearly infected. “And this?” I point to the cut, my voice still very foreign.

“Oh uh… I got cut by a stick… I just… forgot to get it checked.” I didn't believe him, and he knew that but I didn't question any further. I wanted- I needed him to get some rest…

Why am I so worried about my biggest rival? Does this have a connection with that blonde guy in the hotel… Am I into guys? No. No- I can't be. I'm into girls… right?

Chapter Text

sunday night

Lando's POV
Oscar had been in the medic room for hours. He had missed all of the interviews. I was worried sick, pacing around my hotel room, but I was mostly trying to find a reason why I was so worried. As I pace around my room another time, I finally come to a halt.

“I like guys.” I mutter. I like guys. That has to be it because at the party, all the girls were on me and I didn't want to take any of them to my hotel or go to their hotel. I called Oscar, then left the party with… some guy. I am into guys. Holy Fuck.

I want to tell someone… but I can't really trust anyone in Formula one. I scroll through my contacts. Mum, Dad, Oscar, George, Max V, Max F- yes. Max Fewtrell, my best friend for over a decade, makes me sound old… I press the call button. He picks up pretty fast since we haven't talked in a while.

“Hey man!” he shouts into the phone, “hey max!” I shout back. “Look- uh… we have to talk.” My voice weakens slightly. “What's up?” He asks, worried. “Uh… I- I think I'm into guys.. not girls… and I- I wanted to tell.. someone but I don't really trust anyone but you… so um… yeah… I think I might be gay… sorry if that's weird…” The call goes silent for a few moments as Max thinks about everything I just said.

“Congrats Lando. I'm proud of you, and thank you for telling me.” I could hear the smile in his voice. I'm really happy that he isn't upset or something… We continue to talk and catch up, until he asks a question that i didn't know how to answer. “Lando… how'd you find out you were gay?”

Silence. I don't answer. I don't know. Was it Oscar? Or, that guy after the party- no. It was definitely Oscar but I hate him. Right? “Oh- uh.. well… Oscar… Osc-” a smile comes onto my face as i say his name, but it disappears as i continue. “He- he uh… he got injured.. and- and uh… I was really really worried- like a pit in my stomach type of worried… so I- I just thought about it… and uh.. well not that long ago, I went to a party and woke up in some guys hotel…”

I was flushed red. I stare at myself in my mirror. I knew I couldn't do anything about it because he- Osc, would never want me. He would be ashamed. “I think I like him, but I can't… you know that I can't, and also he hates me… and I'm meant to hate him… but I worry about him too much, Max, what do I do?” I hopelessly ask. Max shuffles on his end of the line, but he doesn't say anything. “Max?” I quietly ask. “He's probably, like, 72% gay.” Max responds.

“what?” I question him. “I searched for him being gay on youtube. Found several videos. For some reason all of the videos are him talking about you, but don't look into it or you will probably explode. I'll come to your next race and we can talk…” Max responds. I blush. Osc talking about me. With video proof. God, I will be searching for that later.

“Okay-” I yawn. “I'm gonna go to bed, talk later?” Max agrees before hanging up. I go for a very short shower, thinking about Osc the whole time. I walk to my bed, before pulling on my grey sweatpants. I lay down, reach for my phone and search up ‘oscar piastri being gay for lando’ on youtube. I watch it until I fall asleep.

Oscar's POV

11pm struck and I was finally allowed to go back to the hotel. My eyes close, hopeful situations play in my head, I get to the hotel, Lando’s at a party, I get to go for a long hot shower before going to sleep.

I finally exit the uber, which I swear took hours. I walk to the elevator, before quickly stepping into the room. It's dark, maybe my wish will come true, until I walk into my room and the bed isn't empty.

Lando, in my bed, only in tracksuit pants. My eyes connect to a dull light, his phone. I walk towards it, I see a video playing, ‘oscar piastri being gay for lando’ my eyes widen. I step away.

My face was pale like I was about to faint, for the second time. I quickly grab my clothes and leave the room. I quickly run towards the bathroom, the image wouldn't leave my head. God, he's so hot. But that video…

I have a very long… like, a really really long, hot shower. As I climb out, Lando fills my head again. Jesus Oscar, forget about it. I pull on some tracksuit pants and walk to my room. I see him, I walk up to him.

“Lando…” I whisper and shake him slightly. “Lando… wake up..” Lando stirs, “hmm?” God, his groggy tired voice messed up my whole thinking process. “y- you uh.. you're- um… in- in my bed… wh- why…” Lando’s eyes open slightly, his face flushed red as he sees my shirtless body. “uh… I thought-... i thought this was my room… s- sorry…” he mumbles. “oh- uh.. it's fine… just- don't touch me..” I whisper.

I climb into the bed, knowing it's not the best idea but I am so tired. I wanted to ask him about the video but I turned to him and he was asleep again. So I just give up and close my eyes. I fall asleep, curled up beneath the covers.

—

Lando and Oscar lie tangled up in each other and the sheets. Oscar stirs, his heart starts pounding as he realises his hands held Lando close. Lando starts to stir, tightening his grip on Oscar's waist.

Oscar quickly pulls away—or at least tries too. Lando just mumbles tiredly and tightens his grip. “mmm, don't go.. you're warm…” Lando mumbles. Oscar’s heart pounds against his chest. Oscar knew he couldn't fight it. His eyes close again. The image of Lando in his bed with the video on his phone plays, his cheeks burn hotter.