"You should try to get some sleep," Oscar said, reaching for his jacket. "You haven't had a proper night's sleep in ages." Lando watched him for a second. "Please don't go." Oscar stopped. How was he supposed to say no? or Lando Norris is very good at pretending everything is fine. Oscar Piastri is very good at pretending he doesn't want things he can't have.
finally posting the moodboard for my landoscar college au <3
i've been working on this fic for MONTHS (a year i think??) and it's finally on ao3!!! it's a slow burn university au where lando and oscar are engineering students trying (and mostly failing) to understand their feelings. there's a lot of yearning, hurt/comfort, late nights, rainy walks, little domestic moments, and lando needing like... so many hugs
it's basically about finding a home in another person :')
if any of that sounds like ur thing i'd love if u checked it out!! and pls tell me what u think if u do, im still kinda new to writing longfics and every comment makes me sooo happy <3
Lando bit his lip, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. βBut Iβm with you now. Donβt you trust me?β he asked, searching for his gaze.
βI trust you, but not himβ Oscar said, moving even closer, their faces almost touching. The tension felt like a taut string between them, and Lando could see the fire in Oscar's eyes. βIβm going to show you that what I have to offer is so much better.β
Lando smiles, the weight of the metal trophy cool in his hands, but the warmth of Oscar against his back is what truly grounds him. His victory doesnβt erase the otherβs disappointment, but Oscar tightens his arms around his waist and chuckles, low and genuine, as if winning had never really mattered that much.
"At least it ended up in good hands," he murmurs.
And Lando, still buzzing with adrenaline, knows he wouldnβt trade this moment for anything.
He was afraid that even the smallest shift would break the delicate balance of the world that existed in that moment.
Lando was asleep on top of him, completely surrendered. His cheek rested against Oscarβs chest, one leg tangled with his, an arm draped across his waist as if, even in sleep, he needed to make sure Oscar was still there. His breathing hadnβt fully settled yet; there was still a trace of what they had been minutes before. Of muffled laughter and whispered things said too close. Of warm skin against warm skin.
The room smelled like them.
Oscarβs heart was still racing.
He lifted his hand carefully, like he was handling something fragile, and let his fingers trace the bare slope of Landoβs shoulder. Slowly. Without any intention of waking him. Just following a map he already knew but that always felt new.
One.
The small freckle near his left collarbone.
Two.
The one a little lower, almost hidden when Lando curled in on himself.
Three.
The one Oscar liked to kiss when Lando started losing focus and let out that soft, unguarded sound that existed only for him.
He swallowed.
He looked at him.
Asleep, Lando was different. No sarcasm. No teasing smile he wore like armor. His lashes rested against his cheeks, his mouth slightly parted, his brow smooth. He looked younger. Softer.
More his.
Oscar let his fingers drift down his back and kept counting. Not because he truly needed to know how many there were, but because it was an excuse to touch him without hurry. To memorize him. To convince himself this was real.
Four.
Five.
He stilled when Lando murmured something unintelligible and shifted closer. The movement dragged their bodies together again, skin to skin, and a slow, deep shiver ran through Oscar β one that had nothing to do with desire.
The kind of feeling that sits heavy in your chest.
Oscar lowered his head and pressed the softest kiss into Landoβs messy hair, barely a touch.
βI love you,β he whispered, even though he knew he wasnβt being heard.
Or maybe he was.
Lando smiled in his sleep. A small, private smile. Almost secret.
And Oscar thought that if he were ever asked to choose a single moment to live in forever, it would be this one: the world reduced to the rhythm of the breathing against his chest, counting freckles like they were private constellations only he was allowed to explore.
Still don't remember for which GP I did this but some of you said it was for the wdc so we could take it!!
We love podium kisses ππ½οΈ
The kiss was desperate, hungry, as if the trophy meant nothing compared to the fire burning between their mouths. Oscarβs hands dug into his back, dragging at the damp fireproof until his fingertips grazed hot, trembling skin.
βMy winnerβ¦β he breathed, the words spilling out between gasps, his voice breaking with the weight of it.
Lando gave a low, breathless laugh and pressed their foreheads together, eyes dark with adrenaline.
βOnly yours,β he whispered, before claiming his mouth againβrougher this time, as if the victory itself was caught between their lips.
The world outside roared on without them. In here, it was just the two of them, drowning in the taste of triumph and each other.
Lando smiles, the weight of the metal trophy cool in his hands, but the warmth of Oscar against his back is what truly grounds him. His victory doesnβt erase the otherβs disappointment, but Oscar tightens his arms around his waist and chuckles, low and genuine, as if winning had never really mattered that much.
"At least it ended up in good hands," he murmurs.
And Lando, still buzzing with adrenaline, knows he wouldnβt trade this moment for anything.
Lando bit his lip, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. βBut Iβm with you now. Donβt you trust me?β he asked, searching for his gaze.
βI trust you, but not himβ Oscar said, moving even closer, their faces almost touching. The tension felt like a taut string between them, and Lando could see the fire in Oscar's eyes. βIβm going to show you that what I have to offer is so much better.β
