hi! alpha oscar anon here. the mental au is kind of. messy, as things stored only in one’s brain tend to be. i am going to throw some basics at you because you mentioned it offhandedly and my little lizard brain latched on and will not let go so please feel free to ignore me. (edit following me sending my warning ask: just know (a) I’m sorry and (b) you did ask for this)
lestappen are both omegas (in opposite directions—max snaps and snarls in public and is calmer and laidback in private, charles is the picture of propriety on the outside and then as soon as the door is closed he’s possessive, hungry, bossy), very much in love and the paddock’s worst-kept secret—I didn’t really flesh that part out so it could either be like, they’re officially mated and their teams and the FIA know and they just haven’t explicitly told the world, or if they haven’t mated yet, or if they mated somewhat secretly and only the people at their respective teams who need to know are aware (this does open up the hilarious option of them weaponizing omega stereotyping to pass off the fact that they’re clinically insane about each other as like “oh we’re just really great gal pals :] just 2 omegas hanging out, totally normal and platonic :] as best omega friends we do this all the time of course :]”
oscar is an alpha who is not very concerned with acting like an alpha and honestly even a little self-conscious about it in that awkward oscar way. alphas in f1 aren’t always assholes, of course, but they do tend to be big, brash personalities, taking up lots of space without thinking about it, speaking their minds in ways that might be overly rude or somewhat inappropriate, doing things like not wearing scent blockers at the appropriate/necessary times or encroaching (not in a creepy way, just oblivious) on betas and omegas personal space.
and oscar isn’t like that, at least he’s always thought he wasn’t and sworn to himself he wouldn’t be, so he’s just… careful. And subsequently quite shy, stumbling over his words and apologizing nervously.
but Oscar’s not anxious, per se, he’s not afraid of speaking up when he needs to for his audience. it’s just that he’s soft, and the gorgeous, funny, talented omegas he’s been looking up to as career role models for a secretive few years now are the opposite of an audience that requires him to put any amount of strength into his words.
honestly, he’s a big nerd, latches on to information and never lets it go, but he’s also kind of…dumb. it’s entirely possible one or both parts of lestappen might realize there was some semblance of a puppy crush going on before oscar ever notices, because he’s just so oblivious to what vibes he puts out. when he walks in on them making out in the cooldown room and stammers, trips, and splutters his way through a frantic apology and departure, he just thinks he’s being polite, but his gaze locked on them and his face went bright pink, he forgot probably almost every word he knew and his scent bloomed under the scent blockers that he is farrrrr more responsible and careful about wearing than most other alpha drivers are, and maybe they didn’t notice but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.
oscar is never anything less than completely sweet with max and charles—he’s not going around, like, being a dick to the other omegas in the paddock or anything, but his voice gets a little softer, his cheeks a little pinker, his eyes a little brighter, and his scent a little happier when it’s lestappen instead of anyone else. he can’t help it; his big, expressive eyes had gotten him the “heart-eyes piastri” label for how he looked at his teammate when they were just starting to become friends, not even close to how he feels about lestappen, and even if oscar doesn’t put the pieces of his crush together, he still knows he lights up when he sees one or both of them approaching him before the parade or in parc ferme after the race.
lestappen honestly start out somewhat neutral? they both were aware of his junior career, praised his driving and congratulated him for earning his place in f1, but really, he’s just another mid to upper field alpha to beat, and they don’t pay him much mind at first. shockingly, i think max is the first one to change. he’s probably dismissive of alpha drivers by nature, much preferring to talk with charles or his other friends, and really, until suzuka, oscar had hardly been anywhere near him after the races anyways. so he notices him at suzuka, first. doesn’t think much of it; is glad he’s wearing his blockers in the cooldown room, but really max is far more distracted moping about Charles’s p4 being one spot away from sharing the podium with him. Oscar’s clearly ecstatic to be there, but it is his first career podium…and Max’s ego doesn’t mind the bits of hero worship he can see from the shy baby alpha either.
and then, that shy baby alpha beats him. doesn’t have to capitalize off of Max’s terrible qualifying and an even worse pit strategy; oscar gets lucky with the sprint qualifying, but it doesn’t matter because they both got passed anyways. max watches as the guy who he’s only seen be soft and reserved before, who’s spent almost all of the season sub-P8, puts his fucking elbows out and races max.
it’s not the most impressive thing ever, obviously. max isn’t a swooning storybook omega. oscar only had to keep max behind him for half the sprint, with a safety car to boot; but oscar still won. and the next day he recovers from sixth to finish on max’s heels, and, well, come on. there’s a reason he’s in love with charles, the person he’s been racing against for most of his life; max can’t help having his interest piqued by the strange rookie that went from 11th in the Austria sprint straight up to 2nd in Belgium and a miraculous win in the Qatar sprint. max loves a challenge, and while oscar clearly isn’t an actual challenge yet (considering he then takes tenth in the both the next two sprint races), Qatar was the turning point of notice.
charles is simultaneously easier and harder. charles loves to be loved, of course, and oscar has probably been at least a little in love with charles since he was seventeen and dreaming of replicating the Sauber driver’s unmatched f2 season. max notices oscar first, yeah, but charles notices the puppy crush first, notices how oscar is just a little more prone to stammering around him and max than fellow omega drivers like george or esteban, how he listens raptly to max going on and on about the race, or to max and charles debating the merits of a U brake or a V brake on one of the corners—on one such occasion, when oscar is sitting nearby listening intently with a faint blush staining his cheeks, max brings him into their conversation, carefully coaxes out some opinions from him about the race and the track., and charles can practically see oscar with floppy puppy ears pitching forwards to talk better with max, a cute little tail thumping in excitement. and he knows. he’s not going to say anything—it’s not the first time someone has had a crush on him or max, not even the first time another driver is the culprit (he scowls darkly, thinking of daniel’s hands on max’s tiny waist, but it automatically softens when oscar catches a glimpse and shoots him a wide-eyed, concerned expression, and charles dismisses the thoughts). frankly, of all the alphas it could’ve been, he doesn’t mind oscar being the one with the hero-worship crush. oscar doesn’t push, consciously or subconsciously; alphas like lewis are definitely respectful, but they have a certain amount of presence that they simply do not bother to reign in on a daily basis, buzzing dully on the outsides of the omega drivers’ brains. oscar .. doesn’t really have that? of course, he has a presence, he is not some kind of robot. charles hasn’t felt oscar’s ‘alpha-ness’ before but knows it has to be buried somewhere in there. he’s seen it almost come out from across paddock, seen the rookie snatching the wrist of an f2 reporter who’d been unlucky enough to be passing through oscar’s field of vision when he copped a lighting-quick feel off of omega fred vesti, the aussie’s face going stormy as he gripped it hard enough charles bet people closer than he was could’ve heard bones crack, and arthur had offhandedly described oscar being similarly protective when the prema gang went out drinking or clubbing, laughing and telling charles he’s like 80% sure oscar actually made some rando beta who wouldn’t take robert’s no for an answer piss his pants once. it’s sweet, or at the very least intriguing, how much effort the baby alpha seems to put into controlling his instincts and his presence. charles has never felt him slip, max hasn’t, and lando confirms he hasn’t either. it’s sweet how much he seems to try and keep it in.
(it’s sweet, yeah, but charles certainly isn’t, not deep down at his core. and deep down at his core, charles starts wondering how easily he and max could get that control to slip. starts wondering if all it would take is the slip of a scent blocker right before his heat, starts wondering how quickly oscar would beg for him).
probably the first time oscar realizes he might be in trouble (re: halfway in love) is falling asleep on one half of the only actually comfortable couch in that circuit’s grid room (it’s not a pack room, they don’t really do that, but it’s a place they can go where no other staff, reporters, or even team admins can go; a safe retreat) and waking up to muffled voices and the comfort of two truly delightful scents filling the room. oscar only wakes up in two ways; one, he bolts awake like something’s chasing him, or two, he muddles through the entire process, taking a solid two minutes from when he opened his eyes to actually feel conscious. this is the second, and so he isn’t really thinking about his own scent or who else might be in the room as he’s yawning, clumsily scrubbing sleep out of his eyes, pressing his legs absentmindedly against the steady warmth on the—red alert, red alert! that is not a “steady warmth,” that is the steady warmth of max verstappen sitting on the other half of the only comfy couch, tangled up with a very amused charles and giving him a equally amused look. “you were making these little rumbles as you woke up,” he tells oscar, who is going brighter and brighter pink, “it sounded kind of like my cats do.” honestly, oscar doesn’t have any clue if he says something comprehensible in response. he blanks out. bluescreens. crashes. somehow gets his legs underneath him, scrambling like a baby deer, blurting out some semblance of an apology, and hauls ass from the grid room back to his own drivers room with his cheeks still about the same shade as alpine’s special livery. and for the first time he has to think about why he woudl instinctively reach for max and charles in a state he’s always been rather private about, why he acts the way he does around them. (why he gets jealous when they’re both on the podium with another driver and he’s not up there; he’s always chalked it up to wanting to be in their place but why, then, does it only happen when the podium is made up of max, charles, and any other driver? why doesn’t it happen when it’s just max or just charles on the podium?) and it’s not… not an italicized “oh” moment, per se. but it’s not really just an italicized “oh” moment either. no, oscar’s moment of realization goes a little bit more like: “oh, SHIT.”
Anon you've read my mind on so much of how Oscar would handle himself. And Charles would 100% be the instigator in the menace type way what is very in character.
Now. Can alpha Oscar handle two omegas at once? Uncertain. However I'd like to find out.
this does open up the hilarious option of them weaponizing omega stereotyping to pass off the fact that they’re clinically insane about each other as like “oh we’re just really great gal pals :] just 2 omegas hanging out, totally normal and platonic :] as best omega friends we do this all the time of course :]
HELP this is so funny.
Massive massive fan of "Oh shit" moments instead of the classic, it is true and it probably means trouble XD
Ty ty anon this is good food to ponder.