Dancer Lando x Painter Oscar - Concorde Conservatory AU
Rated M - Chapter 1/5 - 8k words - Ao3 Link!
Lando's always been a bit like the music he dances to: loud, fast, passionate, and over before you have a chance to get hooked. He likes it that way. Sure, his friends are much steadier than him, with their budding romances and growing careers. He's not that upset about it, honest. But chance meetings with a quiet new artist force him to slow down and take notice of the smaller things in life- including his feelings and what he really wants out of life.
OR
Dancer Lando x Painter Oscar, strangers to friends to lovers, lets go
Posting this entirely on tumblr now!!! You can read it here or Ao3. I've made my tumblr only divas wait long enough! Read below the cut
Ersatz: being a usually artificial and inferior substitute or imitation
Lando’s more than used to waking up to Carlos pounding on his door, sometimes he doesn’t even bother with actually setting the alarm. That’s how timely Carlos always is. Every day, at 7am at the dot, Carlos is yelling at him that they’ve “got to leave” and “he’s not waiting this time”. It’s really a perfect arrangement. Carlos has a key to Lando’s apartment after all, why not use it.
The curly haired boy falls out of bed after the third round of pounding, because he doesn’t want a headache and is very aware that Carlos will leave him at the apartments without hesitation. Then Lando will have to pay for an Uber, or walk to campus, and he really doesn’t want to do that. The point of moving into a building with a bunch of other art kids is that he doesn’t have to pay for his own transportation.
Lando shouts that he’ll be ready in five and does his best to not be lying. He tries to remember what he’s meant to be doing today. What class does he have on Tuesday mornings? Technique? It’s probably a technique class. He always wakes up with the same pit of dread in his stomachs on those days. That makes him pull on some tights and a black leotard, plus shorts because the ballet department will never take his dignity from him again after his mandatory ballet 101 course. He much prefers to hide his ass from the general populace, thank you. He finds an old jumper to throw over it, a simple black one with “Concorde Conservatory” printed in a loopy font over the front. Lando had gotten it in his first year of study, and he’s worn it half to death but it holds up fine. Ballet boys know how to sew, and Carlos has fixed the sleeves for Lando every time they rip. It’s a tried and true outfit for a dancer such as Lando, he thinks he looks rather good after a check in the mirror. Its a quid adjustment to his curls, a spray of cologne, and then he grabs his thankfully already packed duffel bag and is out the door.
Exiting his bedroom gives him the welcome sight of Carlos brewing coffee. The man is a saint, and Lando probably would’ve been kicked out without him. “Good morning! That’s gotta be a record for getting ready.”
“One day, cabrón, you will be ready before I even knock. We will celebrate with champagne,” the Spanish man frowns, pouring coffee into two matching thermoses before handing one off to Lando to put in a bit too much creamer and sugar. “You know we get yelled at when you make us late, right?”
“I haven’t made us late in a month and a half,” Lando sniffs, because how rude! He knocks on wood after he says it, just in case. “Modern teachers are sane and nice people, so I'll be fine. I'm not in all that strict ballet nonsense like you, or your french boy toy.”
“He’s Monégasque,” Carlos corrects instantly, before groaning as if tortured when Lando laughs at him. “Shut up.”
“Can I not delight that my dear friend and best taxi service has a crush? That happens to be his fun new roommate?” Lando teases, waggling his eyebrows until it earns him a kick to the shin.
Lando knows he’s pretty annoying about relationships, Carlos never fails to point it out after all. He’s just curious! Can you blame him? And maybe he’s in desperate need of a more than one time fling. “Hopeless,” Carlos comments, grabbing his keys and heading to the door.
He’s not exactly wrong. Lando’s been on a bit of an all time dry spell when it comes to relationships. His last relation that lasted more than a night was a streak of bad decisions between him and Carlos, which they’ve both politely agreed to forgive and forget. Recital season is a stressful time for everybody. Lando does what he needs to get through and then just moves the hell on.
It’s not that Lando enjoys being single; he just has trouble staying in relationships. He’s too much for some people. It’s an issue being all or nothing, all the time. Also an issue that he's really bad at waiting. And building up to things. And being patient. All the things a guy or gal wants their boyfriend to be, he’s not. He’s good at flirting, but not at casual. Casual’s just so boring.
Lando opens up his phone as they walk out to the car, which is sitting at a sweet 16% from Lando not plugging it in last night, and is met with a handful of messages. One is from George in their apartment building’s group chat. It’s an annoyed request to please keep it quiet after 11pm, and a trio of middle fingers from Max in response. Classic. Lando hearts Max’s message before moving on.
There’s a few emails forwarded over from his talent manager, Zak. As much as Lando has a distaste for the man, he gets Lando gigs. There’s a back up dancer position in a music video, an ad campaign for a headphone brand, and a modeling shoot asking for dancers. Each one tagged with Zak’s favorite words to describe Lando: Sexy and Fun.
It’s his brand, Lando is more than aware. While saying that he was in training at a prestigious school was the meat to his applications, Lando’s good looks could usually get him the extra mile in booking work. Zak says it’s just business, but it makes the British boy feel a bit like a piece of meat people are trying to get a bite of. His training doesn’t matter so much now, but he has to believe it will when he graduates. He’ll make connections and be able to break into musical theater or touring music or something more than this. For now, he just replies with check marks to the music video and the advertisement, he doesn’t feel like modeling.
“Can I borrow your portable charger today?” Lando asks Carlos as soon as their in the car, shooting him his best ‘you know you love me’ smile.
Carlos sighs, shaking his head, “You owe me dinner.”
“Deal!” Lando grins, and reaches to root through the ballerino’s bag to claim his prize. Plugging his phone into the little brick. “Got plans for the day.”
“Class, and uh.. Class.. And then we’re doing tours for the couple of transfer students, remember? We promised Lewis we would.” Carlos reminds with a tired sounding voice.
“Oh, right. Totally, I remember.” Lando completely forgot he agreed to do that. He kind of agreed to anything Lewis asked, because it’s Lewis Hamilton. The best conductor any of them have ever met, Lando isn’t even a musician and he gets the hype. Lewis is at the Conservatory for his fucking PhD, which means he runs a ton of stuff on campus. Including the greeting committee, that Lando is technically- and unfortunately- a part of. “So um, pop quiz, since I remember. Are we in groups or?”
Carlos obviously knows it’s bullshit, but he obliges anyway. “There’s not many. Just one on one stuff. You’ve got the Aussie painter I think? I’ve got this British kid. One's a late transfer and ones starting in the second semester for fun or something. I dunno, you’ll be fine. Just point out the main stuff and set him on his way.”
Lando nods, he can do that. It’s a little annoying add-on to his schedule, sure, but it’s not like he’s currently swamped with things to do. It could be fun! Meeting a new person, walking around campus. A nice cool down after class. It’ll be just fine.
They arrive on campus with a little time to spare, thanks to Lando’s tried and true alarm clock, and park a bit farther than usual to enjoy a walk to the dance hall. The conservatory really is a beautiful place. Brick laid footpaths, shimmery little ponds and grass areas, sunshine flooding the space and casting dramatic shadows from the statues and impressive buildings. It all feels really uptight, which isn’t Lando’s scene. He’s more there for the people; to be surrounded by artists all the time. It’s a great culture, it’s how Lando met most of his close friends. It’s how he found his awesome cheap apartment, and it’s how he stays sane and happy in this line of work.
Lando really can’t imagine doing something boring, he’s so damn lucky he got into this school.
Across the courtyard, he spots the familiar sight of Daniel and Max chatting outside of the music hall. The two sitting under the massive statue of a bull and chatting idly, Max’s trumpet beside him. Lando finds comfort in the sight, in the norm. He’ll tease Max about it later, that he's been around the man every day for years and still looks like a stiff board beside him. They're a funny pair, complicated in ways that Lando doesn't understand entirely, but they make a pretty good match.
The pair of horses outside the dance hall, metallic and prancing, had always intimidated Lando a little. They stared him down every time he entered the building. Carlos liked them, for some reason. They felt judgmental to Lando. As if they’d seen enough to see right through him. It’s an unnerving sensation to go through every time you try to rehearse, but Lando learned to endure. On particularly bad days he’d flip up the metallic beasts, but today he is feeling charitable towards them. Just frowns before walking through the dance hall.
Modern dance is often relegated to the upper floors of the building. Lando jokes this is because the ballerinas are trying to avoid having to look at Lando’s group, and he’s starting to think he’s not wrong. Mercifully, technique classes are always on the first floor because stairs afterwards would be legally torture. The classes are in one of the largest rooms. Where the mirror spans a whole wall just to torture everyone. Lando hates that these are mandatory. He knows logistically why; good basics make good everything, but he’d rather just not most days.
Carlos abandons Lando as soon as they enter the room, the traitor he is. Leaving Lando to instead slide up alongside Charles, offer to help him stretch. Lando mimes vomiting, but nobody gives him so much as a glance. It’s fine, he can go a few hours without attention. Lando wishes that Carlos would at least let him tag along. It’s not that he doesn’t have friends, he gets along with a lot of the dancers. He just doesn’t get along with them as much as Carlos or Charles. He’s not a jerk though, he’ll let them flirt in peace.
Instead, he just finds an empty spot on the barre and gets his ballet shoes on. Bouncing on his toes to move around and start warming up. There’s polite small chat with the people around him. The weather, upcoming shows, and other junk Lando doesn’t care about. He just smiles and laughs his way through it, and then takes his place at the bar when the instructor walks in. It’s Sebastian today, and Lando thanks the gods in heaven that it’s not Mark. Maybe he’ll make it through the session without wanting to kill himself by the end of it.
🎶
Lando was wrong.
When Sebastian finally frees them all, the only person in the room who doesn’t look haunted is Charles, because that asshole is just naturally amazing and finds everything easy or some other ridiculous explanation. Lando, on the other hand, feels like his legs have been turned to jelly and his spine was stretched out too far like a busted, old spring. It was a good session, he feels 1% more skilled than he was when he walked in. Still hurts, though, still hurts.
He manages to track down Carlos in the hall, smiling at him. “Hey! I’m gonna change into real clothes first but wanna get coffee?”
“Can’t, I’m helping Charles with a lift sequence for the next half hour, and then we have to go do those tours,” Carlos dismisses. Leaving Lando at a loss. He hasn’t got a good idea of how to spend his time. He flirts with the idea of going to one of the yoga sessions to cool down, but that’s more stretching he doesn’t want to do. Maybe he could go shower, but he didn’t sweat a crap ton and that sounds like an effective way for him to lose track of time and be late to greet that new guy. Coffee alone is an option, but it’s also a sad one. The girl who works at the counter most days has seen Lando with his friends enough times that she’ll definitely notice if he walks in alone, and that’s just not the energy he wants today.
He decides to just change, because unlike George he doesn’t actually enjoy wearing short shorts in front of unsuspecting strangers. He exchanges his workout outfit for cargo pants and a tank top that he hides under his sweater. Then finds a hallway to hide in and check his phone again, which is not dead. Thank you, Carlos.
The Big 3 (11:05 AM)
Lando: what we up 2 guys
George: Walking to rehearsal
Alex: Walking to rehearsal
Lando: Booo boring yawnig rolling my eyes
George: How was class? We all heard Carlos waking you up again so I’m assuming you made it
Lando: i did bitch and now i have to go do a thing for your stupid bf
George: What does Lewis want?
Alex: He admits it!
George: Shut up! We’re not dating!
Lando: his dumbass greeting comity im in
George: *Committee
Lando: die
Alex: Lando you signed up to be on that team.
Lando: and? i forgot i had to really do shyt
Alex: So we’re getting new students?
Lando: transfers frm down under, apparently. bet fucking mark has smth to do with this he hates me
George: Mark Webber doesn’t hate you, Lando. You might not be wrong though. I can ask Lewis if you want.
Lando: why not nothing interessting happenin here ayways
Alex: And he’s off! With a new excuse to talk to his man.
(11:17 AM)
George: Okay, rehearsal is about to start but apparently their names are Oscar and Arvid? Also only one of them is Australian. They’re transferring over from a traditional university, one Mark used to teach at. Also Lewis gives you a frown for forgetting.
Lando: i did not forget!
Lando: im literally getting ready to greet the guy right now
Lando: hello?
Lando: fuk you guys
Lando closes the group chat with a sigh. Most of their conversations end with people disappearing into their actual obligations, but it still annoys Lando. He likes a goodbye, is that so wrong? It’s not personal, he knows that. They told him they were going to rehearsal. He’s just a clingy bastard, one of his less pleasant traits.
Instead he tries scrolling through his emails and figures out where he’s supposed to meet this new guy and starts walking over. Oscar or Arvid, he doesn’t know who he’s getting. He debates which he’d prefer, given the choice based on name. Oscar is more fun to say, so probably him. Lando hopes he gets Oscar. Sounds more like someone that Lando would vibe with. What this curious new person is studying is also a mystery. Hopefully not dance, Lando is getting kind of sick of new people showing up and being better than him. He also doesn’t want him to be a musician, because Lando knows enough musicians for a lifetime. Who knows.
He’s very aware of the fact that he’s running early, much to his own surprise. Lando has always been a last minute guy, but he is bored. So stupid bored. He could be filming audition reels for those jobs Zak’s applying him for. Doing research for his Dance History course. Working through the combination he’s supposed to do for his Choreo class. Or like, anything he should do. Except, he can do all that later! He and Isack already agreed to go over choreography together so why should he bother doing it twice. It’s all a later problem. He’s got one thing he’s focused on and as lazy as he can be he doesn't want to anger anybody more than he potentially already has. It’s a lot more fun to speculate about this guy he’s about to meet.
Maybe he’ll be one of those total shut-ins. The artists who hide away from the world, pale and greasy and annoyed that they have to speak to anyone. Maybe he’ll be insufferably posh. Someone born into wealth with access to endless tutors and time to hone a talent. Lando really doesn’t like people like that. Sure, some of his friends come from musical families. Max does, and so does Carlos technically. They’re different though, they’re not totally pompous idiots all the time. Carlos’s dad did a totally different kind of dance, and Max’s dad might be the devil? Lando’s not been allowed a ton of information about that. Just a lot of frowns. Lando hopes that Oscar (or still possibly Arvid) doesn’t have an evil family, just because he’s nice.
Eventually Lando reaches the main offices up towards the front of the school. The receptionist looks surprised to see him again. The last time Lando had ended up here, it was because he, Danny, Max, and Yuki had made a combination of terrible choices that led to them passing out drunk in the yard. A classic really. He’s a bit of a terror; life is more fun that way. It’s a quick conversation of assuring that Lando really wasn’t in trouble this time, just here to give a new student the lowdown. He’s told to wait some more, great. Lovely. Who doesn’t like waiting around?
It’s a crisp 15 minutes of scrolling idly through his Instagram. Liking some posts from friends, watching people on the internet. He follows dancers mostly, people who do things he wishes he did. People living it up in Ibiza and Vegas and all sorts of dance scenes. Lando loves a party, that’s why he’s a dancer after all. Energy and movement, music in his ears. It’s fun. He likes it. Keeps him active without making him hate his life. His flexible schedule was great- even if he bordered on Broke most days due to lack of work. You had to be a little broke to be in the arts, it’s just the lifestyle.
Lando is absorbed in some video of a k-pop choreographer breaking down the newest viral dance when he hears someone clearing their throat. It takes a second to register, but Lando looks up.
He’s met with the sight of a man standing in front of him. A pretty man, a frankly kinda hot one. Looking down at Lando with brown eyes and swoopy light brown hair. He has a lightly displeased expression, more like uncertainty that Lando is the person he’s meant to be talking to. “Uh, hello?” Australian accent, bingo.
“You must be Oscar!” Lando grins, bouncing up from his seat, “Or maybe Arvid. You’re Oscar though, right. I was hoping for an Oscar.”
“Well I’m not an academy award, but yeah. Oscar,” the boy shrugs, offering a hand to shake. “You’re Lando then?”
“That’s me, your tour guide! Aren’t you excited? Don’t worry I’ll try to be quick- I mean thorough-” he corrects when that receptionist lady shoots him a sharp glare. There goes any of the goodwill he might’ve gained by doing this.
Oscar kind of just, stares for a moment. As if he’s trying to digest Lando’s entire existence before nodding slowly. “Yeah, excited.”
Lando just gives him the biggest smile he can muster before waving him to follow. Heading out onto one of the main walkways between all the buildings. The courtyard was nice today after all, sunshine and smiles all about. Lando enjoyed the little pond that was just past the concert hall, it was a nice place to sit. “So! What brought you to Concorde? What’re you here to study? Why’re you so far from home?”
“Uhm. I was interested in the program after my old professor emailed me. I'm a painter, and because that’s where this school is?” Oscar supplies.
“Oh my god was it Mark? I bet it was fucking Mark,” Lando huffs, shaking his head.
Oscar makes a faintly amused sound at that, smiling little, “Yes, it was Mark. I took a class over dance wear design that he taught. One thing led to another, he thought I had something in the art scene and told me to keep in touch. Got a job here, told me to apply, I did, got in, took a plane… ta-da?”
“Ohh cool, are you a designer? I didn’t know we had design classes,” Lando hums, gesturing at the dance hall. “That’s where your annoying Australian mentor works. Dance hall. Where my dreams go to die everyday.”
“No, still a painter. Took the class for fun, I was actually an engineering major at the time.” Oscar shrugs. “I’ll have to stop by, to watch your dreams die of course. I can find Mark another time.”
Lando snorts laughter at that. This guy is funny, that dry kind of humor that beats Lando’s awful jokes every time. Lando watches Oscar’s face, and he rolls his eyes at the laughing but that little smile has stayed on his face. Lando just grins, “I’ll look forward to it.”
They continue with the little tour. Lando points out the various buildings around campus, explains how to get from here to there. Answers the very minimal questions Oscar asks. He tells him what to avoid at the horrendous food court, which teachers are cool and which will genuinely attempt to murder students for hun, which areas are chill and which will have you trapped in an acapella meetup you cannot escape.
Lando likes watching how Oscar reacts to things. How he nods along even when Lando branches off into side tangents that are not strictly useful information. How he furrows his brows when Lando says something particularly concerning. How he never stops staring at Lando unless he deliberately tells the Aussie to look at something else. It’s fascinating, and it makes Lando feels vaguely important. He likes it, even if he’s a really shit tour guide..
“That about covers the main halls. I mean, there's the galleries and such but no need to walk those. And there’s the dorms. I don’t live in them though so I can’t really go in and give you a tour.” Lando eventually declares. “Regretting it yet? Have I scared you away with my brilliant story telling?”
Oscar shrugs, shaking his head, “I’m not regretting it. Just wishing I’d planned a bit better. I tried the dorms already, apparently they are full up?”
“Yeah. Old school plus growing class sizes makes for a rough dorm lottery. I live in apartments a bit into the city. It’s rough but it’s better than nothing.” Lando sighs.
“Dang.” Oscar looks a bit disgruntled, his brows knitting together in a way that Lando personally finds quite cute as he thinks things over. “I mean, Mark and his husband are letting me stay with them while I sort things so it’s-”
“Mark’s husband!?” Lando interrupts, grabbing Oscar by the arm. “Oh my god you need to tell me everything right now. Because I bet he’s having an affair with my other dance instructor-”
“Sebastian?” Oscar guesses.
Lando, now fully invested, just squeezes tighter and nods. “Yes! Exactly.”
“Yeah, Lando. They’re married, that’s why Mark moved?” Oscar chuckles, raising his brow at Lando. “They’re stupid in love, it’s kinda obvious. Do they not talk about it?”
“No! Sebastian has that pretty little ring on his finger but whenever we ask he just shrugs. Says that’s none of our business. And I’m not brave enough to ask Webber something like that. He'll kill me.” Lando gawks. “Oh this is amazing information Oscar. Truly, it’s good I’m your mentor now.”
Oscar takes a moment to guffaw at that. Shaking his head as he replies, “My mentor? You gave me a 30 minute walking tour. During which you skipped two buildings that I had to point out and spent more time on the pond you like then the building I am going to be primarily studying in. And you’re my mentor?”
Lando just smiles, bright and cheery. “Yup! You should make a run to the convenience store with me. I need a Monster, and you’ve got to tell me everything about my teachers.”
Oscar hesitates for a moment, starting off on some excuse about needing to go and trying to slide his arm out of Lando’s grasp. The brit isn’t having any of it though, just tightening his grip, “Please?”
The sigh Oscar gives is long suffering, muttering something about needing to get his life together before he nods. “Sure, Lando. I’ll dish the dirt on my actual mentor and his husband to you. But you’re buying me a monster.”
“Deal!”
🎵
Lando actually has a pretty damn good day after that. He and Oscar talked for at least an hour, maybe closer to two. Their conversation drifted away from Lando’s scandalous professors and into various other things. Music, movies, anything that can capture attention for more than a second. They got cut off by Oscar’s phone buzzing, telling him he should be back to admissions already. It’s quick apologies, the exchange of phone numbers, and Lando is left alone but in remarkably high spirits.
He gets through his classes without too much trouble. He grabs lunch with George and his new friends Kimi and Ollie after Music Appreciation (which has to be one of the worst classes Lando has ever taken, but today it was alright). That was fun, he got to talk about his amazing revelations and hear about how Yuki spent part of his rehearsal time trying to hit Max on the head with drumsticks. A nice lunch, all things considered.
Those plans to practice with Isack actually went through, even though Lando had been seriously considering skipping it. Lando likes the freshman though, Isack recently moved into the apartment complex after he saw that Kimi and Ollie managed to get a spot. (If they can do it, I certainly can, had been the French boy’s exact words.) He was a good enough dancer that they could work together without either getting frustrated, but Lando still offered guidance where he could. To be nice. Being older and all that jazz meant Lando was supposed to be nurturing the younger students, regardless of if he felt particularly capable of doing so. It takes them a whole hour of cursing at the video reference in multiple languages, but they manage to learn the stupid dance. Mostly because Isack susses out what the girl is actually saying and Lando can translate the stupid terminology with things he’s picked up from other jobs. There's a moment of debate about Isack to join him for dinner tonight, but Isack launches into excited rambling about the date he has tonight during their cool down stretching. So he just smiles and says goodbye for the day.
Lando doesn’t want dinner alone though, he wants to talk to people about Oscar and his good day and just life in general. When possible, Lando avoids meals alone. Even when he is alone, he’s on the phone with somebody. It makes him sad to eat alone, really sad. It’s just kind of pathetic in his mind. He really doesn’t know why. At a loss, he opens the building’s group chat.
Rosso Apartments GC (6:42 pm)
Lando: headed home rn anyone wanna catch dinner 2gether
Charles: I am available!
Carlos: sure
Daniel: I will be there
Max: r u paying
Lando: no fuk u
Max: boooooo
Daniel: I can pay for you Maxy <3
Max: yeah I’ll come.
Lando takes a minute to screenshot that whole interaction and cackle at it before continuing on.
George: Can I tag along? Alex is out of the apartment and it’s odd to eat alone.
Lando: ok my offer is closed thats enugh ppl in my apartment
Lewis: Dang, too slow.
Lando doesn’t even have to guess who send the text he receives two seconds later.
BritishBias (6:49 pm)
Georgie: Would you consider letting Lewis come? Please?
Lando: why would i do that
Georgie: Because I’m asking really nicely?
Lando: u owe me a monster 4 this.
Georgie: You don’t even have a roommate! You have plenty of room!
Lando: yeah yeah wtvr
Rosso Apartments GC (6:55)
Lando: lewlew you can come say thank you to russell
Lewis: Sick! Thx George 😀
Lando pretends not to see the very rude messages he receives in response to that, just tries to wave down a taxi to get home. Usually he’d try and bum a ride from one of his super cool friends who own a car, but Carlos got done earlier than him today. Max probably was home at noon because that man skips classes out the wazoo, and he didn’t feel like putting in the effort to ask anybody else. So here he was left, to sign away his cash to the city overlords. He debates walking, but really doesn’t feel like it.
Luckily it’s a quick ride once Lando captures a taxi, and he spends most of it scrolling through food delivery apps to decide what he wants. He’s mostly pretending to weigh options, because he rotates between the same five restaurants. Japanese sounds good. Maybe he’ll order from the restaurant Yuki works at. That’d be nice.
He doesn’t make up his mind before he gets home, just paying the driver and thanking them before he climbs the stairs up into his apartment. It takes a moment to fish out his keys from his jeans, eventually succeeding but finding his door already open; revealing Carlos and Charles already inside, lounging on his couch.
“Hey! Shoes off the furniture, who let you in here,” Lando scoffs, tossing his keys on the counter without a second glance.
Charles scrambles to sit up-right, opening his mouth in an apology that Carlos intercepts. “I have a key, and you have done worse things to this couch than we are doing by putting our shoes on it.”
“Well I own it, so I can get it dirty!” Lando guffaws, throwing his bags down and struggling to take off his shoes to launch them at Carlos. The man ducks, and then starts shouting in Spanish that goes way over the Brit's head. Eventually, the noise grates too much. “Okay okay! Sorry, gosh.”
“Sometimes it is a wonder how you two are friends,” Charles observes with an amused smile. “All I see you do is try to hit one another.”
“Touch is Lando’s love language, even if that touch is being wrestled to the ground,” A cheery British voice observes. George walked into the apartment with his school bag still on his shoulder. Cheeks flushed because he’s not a lazy person and likely walked home from campus. Lando just offers him a side hug in greeting.
“Yeah yeah-” Lando sighs, just settling back and waiting for his apartment to fill up. Soon, three guests transforms into six. His couch— which is usually only used for laying on and watching bad TV when Lando is either A: sad, B: drunk, or C: Both!— becomes crowded. Max and Daniel politely set up shop on the floor, the two of them always end up regulated there. Because by the end of the night one of them is going to try and attack the other, so it’s easier to just start on the floor than have them barrel off the couch.The rest of them fill in around the coffee table. It’s nice, having company. Lando likes hearing about everybody's misadventures of the week. Daniel rambling about his internship at the nearby primary school, Max complaining about all the jobs he get as if his abundance is an inconvenience, Charles including too many technical terms in a sentence for even Lando to keep up with, and George admitting his newest way to spend entirely too long working on a piece of music. It’s just a nice good session of catching up, while indulging in delicious Japanese take-out.
“What about you, Lando?” Lewis pipes up, pulling the curly haired man back into the conversation from when he had been drifting away into just listening, “How was your day? You met Oscar, yes?”
“Must’ve, I had Arvid. Very nice boy,” Carlos hums, also looking expectantly at Lando.
Great, what’s he supposed to say? They talked too long? Lando was annoying. Oscar paints and has a fun accent. “He was a nice bloke. I showed him around, he knows the one other Australian person I know besides Daniel. I learned that my teachers are married. Nothing crazy. He was quiet, not my usual kind of person.”
“Yeah, we all know you don’t do quiet,” Daniel chuckles, earning him a slap to the head.
“I can be quiet! If I want to. I just do not want to,” Lando huffs, “I got his number. He was chill. Dying in the finding a house crisis we have on campus.”
“Rough,” George nods. “I bet the building that’s condemned for asbestos has a few openings.”
“I thought they were demolishing that one?” Max points out.
“Can’t demolish it before removing all of the stuff that kills you.” Lewis hums, just barely beating George to the jump. Norris thinks they make a fine pair, both being too smart to be hanging out with people like Lando.
His friends all had this annoying tendency to pair up. Forming little matching sets that always left Lando floating. Sure, he has Carlos. And Daniel sometimes, but when they all got together he was usually left as the odd one out. Charles and Carlos were the perfect dancing duo, Max and Daniel survived the actual horrors of the old band instructors together and became bonded for life, and George is always tangled up with Lewis. It’s not just them, Isack has Liam and Kimi has Ollie.
He’s not Lonely, he’s here isn’t he? Surrounded by people who love him. It’s just a bit annoying sometimes, to be left on the perimeter. Maybe that’s why he invites people over so much. So he doesn’t have to sit and think about that. No, Lando’s doing alright. Who cares if his friends all make matching sets, so do his socks. Doesn’t mean he’s going to go without them.
Dinner stretches on nicely, they end up watching a football match on the television. (European, Football. As Daniel still grumbles about). It’s a happy day. The empty corners of Lando’s apartment get filled up with bad jokes and laughter. His trashcan fills up and he doesn’t even get annoyed by the fact he’ll have to trek down to the dumpster in the morning. It’s nice to have company.
When the friendly match ends in a devastating loss for all the Brits in the room, people start to go. Cleaning up the table as idle chit chat slows.
“Has anyone paid their rent yet?” Max broaches, scrolling through what’s likely his bank app on his phone. “I am pissing off our landlord by waiting so long.”
“Yeah I have,” Lewis shrugs.
“Waiting on Alex’s half right now,” George hums. “You should probably get on that, Max.”
“It’s fine, they can’t evict me. Who else would yell at Lando for blasting music in the early morning- other than Carlos,” Max snips.
Lando just pouts, “Why do you all pick on me in my own home? And for the record, I just scraped rent together. I am genuinely going to die of starvation, this was my last supper. And all of you are Judas or whatever.”
“We’re not going to betray you. Just bully you,” Charles hums, gathering his things. “You should get a roommate, Lando. Makes things easier.”
“I like my own space,” Lando rebuttals, “I don’t need some weirdo bothering me!”
Carlos just rolls his eyes, “You are hopeless. It would be so good for the rest of us.”
“True. Wouldn’t have to drag you awake, you’d be quieter, you’d probably be more responsible, you’d get out of the house more if you didn’t like them… Seems like a great idea, actually. Can we get you a roommate?” George hums.
“Yeah, we can audition some for you! Make a whole event of it,” Daniel chuckles.
“Bugger off, you lot! This is my lonely bachelor pad, and it’s going to stay that way!” Lando yelps, and luckily that works. Everyone files out of his apartment with some quick hugs and goodbyes. Promises to see each other in class, and threats to get sleep. Lando doesn’t comment that Max follows Daniel down to his floor, and he celebrates quietly with George when Lewis gives the blue-eyed boy a hug and asks to hang out again. He just waves everyone goodbye, and is left with an empty home and empty takeout containers.
Yeah, It’s hard not to feel lonely.
🎵
Lando spends a lot of his Wednesdays in the dance halls. He sort of lives between the different practice rooms and the cafeteria. It’s his off day, technically. He has a whole two classes, and they aren’t exactly big deals. Learn a bit more about Choreo, give some notes, get the new assignment, and he's out of his morning class. Then he just has contemporary technique after lunch, and he’s a free man. Except he mostly just posts up to practice some more.
He goes over those job offers. The music video audition choreo is pleasantly difficult. Enough to make Lando actually sit down and notate it out. He does so with headphones in, because he’s polite. Also because he’s trying to enjoy the ballet rehearsal he’s dropping in on.
It’s nice to sit back and enjoy the gracefulness of his peers. Watching Charles spin like a top would make anybody feel better after slogging away at work. The pianos and violins in the track the ballet students practice to do crash horribly with the techno in Lando’s headphones, but he doesn’t mind.
It’s a distraction, something Lando is well versed in. He likes to hide away from thinking about anything that stresses him out for too long, because if he doesn’t it just becomes this whole spiraling awful thing. He's pretty good at freaking himself out. A master, truly.
If Lando's lucky, it'll be a relaxing day of staying in the studio until the lights go out and he has to run to escape before a teacher tries to lock him in. It's not something he does on regular. Just days when he feels bad. The question of rent has been looming over him thanks to that lovely conversation last night. It's not that Lando's irresponsible with money, he just doesn't have a lot of it to spare so the few bad choices sting a lot. Really, he can't afford that apartment. He's gotta get lucky with jobs every month just to not starve on the weekends. It's a bothersome predicament, but he's not exactly looking to change it anytime soon. He likes living in a building full of friends, and a bit of financial turmoil isn't going to make him give it up.
Focusing on work distracts him for a while, he actually fully breaks down the choreography into notes by the time the ballerinos break for water. Lando gives quick compliments to Carlos and Charles before slipping out of the room. Fully intending to go work on this dance number.
Mark Webber has different plans, waiting in the hallway like a wayward spirit. Glowering at Lando as soon as he pokes his head out. For a second, Lando really considers hiding back in the classroom, but eye contact has been made. "Heyy, Professor." Lando tries, smiling.
"You met Oscar," Mark states. Right, hello to Lando too. So polite.
"I did, because I'm a very useful member of the greeting committee. Thank you very much," Lando hums.
His teacher doesn't look amused by or satisfied with that answer, frowning deeper. "I trust you were competent. You wouldn't exactly be my number one pick for him." Lando gets to experience a rare moment of kindness after that when Mark adds, "But he was happy. So I guess you did fine."
"I did better than fine, we got along swimmingly. And, He told me all about you and Sebastian."
"Please don't call us by our first names Lando-"
"You and Mr. Vettel, then. All tied up, huh? Worth moving across the globe?" Lando finishes with an entirely too triumphant grin painting his face.
"My personal life is none of your business," Mark huffs, "But it was. I am very happy, I am just hoping that Oscar will find similar comfort here. These dreary isles are a far cry from the Australian sun. But yes, it's very worth it."
"Well good for you, it's a match made in hell for my muscles," Lando snipes. He'd always been a bit too bold, but Mark scoffs the beginning of a laugh and that's a win enough.
"Listen, just do me a favor and at least be civil while he settles in? You owe it to me, for the shit you put me through. You're the reason retirement looks so lovely."
Lando beams at that. Not because he's making his professor want to quit, that'd happen with or without his enthusiasm, but because Mark clearly likes him enough to want Lando around his… mentee? Ward? Weird-Not-Son-Guy. Regardless, he nods. "You have my word."
Mark just nods at that, turning heel and walking away. Leaving Lando to grapple with all that. Lando can count on one hand the amount of times Mark has been actually nice to him. Once, when Lando had broken down crying in the hall after a really shitty rehearsal and Mark had told him that he really wasn't terrible, just got all in his head. Another time, when Lando had been decorating the building for Christmas and Mark had appreciated the fact that he put up a palm tree and labeled it '4 the Auzies'. And just now actually. So yeah, one hand and an absolute high for Lando.
He decides to stop hiding in the studio after such a confidence boost. Instead, he marches himself right on over to the Art building. He forgets the real name- something with an M? There was this gaudy sculpture of a fruit out front covered in shiny metallic flies. Lando hates that sculpture, but he gets why they put it here of all places. Artists probably understood it, the themes or what not. Lando just didn't like the sun glaring into his eyes when he walked past.
It smells like turpentine in the old, dusty building. No matter what's happening, the smell lingers. Right now, it's accompanied by the heavy scent of charcoal. Likely thanks to the class that Lando can catch through an open door. Each student's hands that Lando can see are coated in the black dust. Lando couldn't do art on the smell and feel alone, not to mention that he can hardly doodle more than a stick figure on a good day.
He doesn't want to interrupt a class, but if he just lingers under the guise of waiting for Oscar- which he's hardly registered he's doing- than he's going to A: look weird and B: get bored and start thinking too much again. Instead, he focuses on the pieces on display in the hallway. There's massive canvases covered in things Lando has to stop to figure out. One is a rather impressive backdrop of clouds with light? or the sun maybe, bursting through the top of it. It's interesting, but he doesn't exactly get it. There's some scattered works of abstraction. Bold colors and leading lines. Lando prefers those to anything, he likes the way paintings like that move. Movement is something that a dancer can understand. Though he usually has to read a little plaque to decipher the meaning.
The work that stumps Lando is sitting on a little pedestal. It's a sculpture. Depicting a dry, cracked desert as it's little base. Cacti and all included in the miniature environment. Fixed in the middle is a fish, which should be dead if you ask Lando. But in the sculpture, the animal looks pleased if anything. Somehow smiling in this cartoonish relief that makes Lando frown. Fish out of water was supposed to be a bad thing.
"Stumped?" Oscar's voice is like the sting of violins in a horror movie, making Lando jolt so bad he nearly throws the sculpture off its pedestal. He whirls around to see the boy, smiling in that flat way of his.
"Holy shit, mate. Were you trying to kill me?" Lando scoffs, dusting himself off a little bit. "I'm not stumped. I'm appreciating art. Isn't that what all you basement dwellers like?"
Oscar hums, just offering a little shrug. "It's a cool sculpture. Opposites attract and all. What're you doing here."
Lando really doesn't want to say that he was looking for Oscar, that he wanted to swing by and say hi and gloat that he's gotten the favor of the most annoying teacher in the dance department. Lying somehow feels worse, because nobody- even a stranger- would buy a sudden interest in the world of physical art . Not from someone like Lando. "I wanted to see how you were settling in," He decides on, puffing out his chest just a tad. "Your under my wing after all."
"Still?" Oscar chuckles softly, and Lando loves the sound of it.
"Yes still! It's not like I'm gonna disappear on you," Lando insists.
Oscar hesitates at that, before his wry smile melts into something a bit warmer. "I appreciate it. I don't exactly know a ton of people over here so.. it's nice. To make friends."
"Yeah, 'course mate. Hows the settling in going?" Lando hums, following along when Oscar starts to walk out of the building.
"Good… good. Apartment hunting in my free time. Did you know, that rent here is insane?"
"Trust me, I've been dealing with it all morning. I'm a broken shower head away from a cardboard box and a tin can." Lando groans, shaking his head a little.
"Sounds rough." Oscar offers, an awkward attempt at sympathy that they both mutually agree to let dissolve. There's a sort of stiltedness to the way Oscar speaks. Lando assumes it's because they're barely a few minutes into their second conversation of all time, or maybe he's just like that. "Wish I knew.. anybody around here. Splitting the cost would be easier. But sharing my space with a stranger-"
"- is the most unappealing thing is the world. I hear ya," Lando sighs, shaking his head. "Life would be easier if I could stand people seeing the way I operate in the morning. Or if I was rich, I'd enjoy being rich."
"Starving artists are a trope for a reason, I suppose." Oscar hums, and they share a laugh at that. It should be just this, a nice chat, a warm little interlude to a long day. A shared gripe about finances.
Except, Lando is many things, and impulsive is one of them. His friends all agreed, that he'd do better with a roommate. It's simple, really. A golden opportunity. Maybe a hasty one. Oscar literally just agreed that living with strangers is a nightmare.
Their shared walk is just breaking out into the sunlight again, and Oscar is turning a little. "Well I'm going to bounce, supposed to check out this building I found-"
And, impulse strikes. Lando wishes he knew why. Why the idea of living with the man was anything but unappealing. Why he wasn't stopping himself. Why he reaches out and catches Oscar by the arm when the Aussie starts walking away.
"Uhm- Lando?
"We both need roommates," Lando blurts, watching the way Oscar just stares like he's crazy. Perhaps because Lando is a little crazy.
Hey all, just gonna yap about a couple random things
July will be low on fics
I'm doing artfight! And will be focusing on that for most of july. So I may post a bit less often
Ao3 Fics
Thx to PR teams being evil, I'm going to start locking my Ao3 fics to members only soon. This does mean I will now fully cross post everything to tumblr! So once I get around to doing that I'm locking it up!
Requests
I'm gonna start clearing out that ask box a little here soon to get some stuff out before I head to the art dungeon :]
Dancer Lando x Painter Oscar - Concorde Conservatory AU
Rated M - Chapter 1/5 - 8k words - Ao3 Link!
Chapter 1 : Of Friendships and Forgetfulness
Ersatz: being a usually artificial and inferior substitute or imitation
Lando's always been a bit like the music he dances to: loud, fast, passionate, and over before you have a chance to get hooked. He likes it that way. Sure, his friends are much steadier than him, with their budding romances and growing careers. He's not that upset about it, honest. But chance meetings with a quiet new artist force him to slow down and take notice of the smaller things in life- including his feelings and what he really wants out of life.
Im so happy this is out! Currently only available on Ao3 so pls hop over there to read if ur interested!! I'm really proud of it :]
Feel free to comment or send asks if u feel so inclined, that inbox is always open :]
hey gang. Curious if anyone would be interesting in Beta-reading for Ersatz- my new Landoscar fic? I usually don't get my fics Beta-Read. I usually edit and sometimes get a passage or two read by friends. But I've been kinda struggling with this one and would just appreciate some eyes on it?
Idk why I Can NOT write rn, I'm fighting like generational battles y'all sry
gonna try and tackle some asks to see if that helps. But know i'm here!! lurking!! just having a hard time getting pen to paper (fingers to keyboard ig) #MoreThingsSoon
