Chapter Text
Oscar: the man who Lando can’t help but fall in love with–even when he told himself he wouldn’t.
How could he not? Oscar was smart, his eyes were kind and gentle, his voice was light and wavering, and his touch was tender yet strong. Lando would melt under him, around him, by him–everything. Lando was totally smitten with Oscar Piastri, the engineering student who would have that obnoxiously fluffy hair, and a toothy smile that Lando couldn’t stop fixing his gaze on.
Lando was deep in his attraction to Oscar. Deep. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing him while drunk, confessing the eight letter sentence that made Oscar’s eyes widen, or the opportunity to be as close to him as possible.
Lando had always wanted more than sex—Of course he did. He had always wanted more than Oscar’s touch, or looks. Lando wants, no, wanted all of him: his heart, his love, his care. All of it. It was everything he had wanted since he first saw him, his face littered with moles, and his pull-over button up wrinkled. Confusingly enough, Lando thought it was cute–that he was cute. No matter what Oscar did back then, Lando thought it was adorable. He was just a freshie–probably straight out of a secondary school that taught him that college would be unbearable and tough. It showed on his face, with his fiddling hands, and through his shaky voice.
It at first was just a crush. A crush that wasn’t going to go anywhere at all. Lando promised to never get involved with him, to not ruin that annoyingly adorable smile that was plastered on his face when he would see Logan, to keep an emotional distance so no one gets hurt.
No one gets hurt. Lando repeated that phrase over a dozen times in his head. He vowed to not hurt him, or himself. And here he is: hurting, wanting to reach out for Oscar, crying for the loss of Oscar and the loss of his own love. It was his choice–no one forced him to lie to Oscar. He chose to do it himself.
It was always snowing on the days Lando left Oscar: That day he left Oscar after kissing him and telling him he loved him his sophomore year, and that morning after Oscar had said he loved him. The snow just somehow knows that Lando will ruin everything again. I mean, he ruined everything the first time when Oscar left him to leave for Japan. Oscar left because of him. The snow knew, the snow still probably knows.
It was even snowing now, but this time Oscar was the one running away, the one leaving.
Lando had perfectly crafted up the words to ruin Oscar’s love for him. He had manufactured his laugh to sound as realistic as possible, had even perfected the look in his eyes to look true. He had got what he wanted–what he planned. However, he didn’t feel that expected strike of joy when Oscar stumbled back, he didn’t feel any satisfaction when Oscar ran away, and he especially didn’t feel an ounce of happiness when he was left standing alone.
Lando pretty much thought he was dreaming. The only thing reminding him that it was real was Oscar’s footprints in the snow, the slow trail that Lando could follow if he wasn’t drowning in his own misery. He was cruel, he had to be. Oscar shouldn’t love him–he couldn’t. He didn’t even know him.
How could Oscar ever love him once he found out who he truly was? Once it was all over, and Lando finally stopped portraying a better version of who he actually was, Oscar would laugh in his face. Maybe he would just leave him and run off like he did now, or maybe, just maybe he would try to be “nice” about it.
About how much he’s unlovable.
Lando headed back inside the pub, eyes filled with something they’d call nothingness. His nothingness somehow made him feel like he was going to puke. “What happened?” Charles questioned, voice already raised. “What did you do?”
Charles must have figured out what happened by now. Charles was smart, Charles was able to read things and chase after the things that he wanted. Charles was different from Lando. Lando would watch the things leave his life, Lando would leave before the thought of leaving appeared before them, Lando wouldn’t argue or hold their hand as they ran away.
Why? Because he knew that they would just leave. No one would willingly stay with him once they knew him. Once the glamour wears off of his image, of his body, of his face–they would never stay. So, why chase what will eventually flee?
“Lando,” Charles whispers, head shaking in what appeared to be disappointment. “I swear to god. What did you do?”
Lando coldly gazed at Charles, grabbing his coat. “You already know what I did.” He strides past him, brushing his shoulder against him as he heads towards the door. Once the brittle air meets his face, he finally begins to feel the terrible chill of the day. The chill that he forgot because of Oscar. He didn’t feel it back then because of him. Oscar had the ability to make him feel warm, to disregard anything cold and just feel the heat. Oscar was gone. There was no more warmth, just the freezing slap of the weather.
Charles quickly pulled his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and look at him, to face him. “You are terrible.”
Lando lets out a breath, “I already know that.”
“You can hurt anyone in the world. Everyone wants you, Lando. Everyone would drop anything they were doing to be with you, to talk to you, to love you.” Charles chided, out of breath. Lando stared endlessly into the pit of Charles’ eyes, the once vibrant green now dusty. He looked as beautiful as ever, of course. His lashes were still full, and his mouth even looked as pretty as before even if it was in a frown. “But, don’t hurt Oscar. Don’t break his heart. Don’t let him run away.”
Charles had determination all over his face, writing his expressions perfectly. Charles even looked perfectly angry, perfectly disappointed. “You’re the biggest idiot in the world if you will be okay with losing him.”
Lando licked his lips, the cold making his lips scratchy and chapped. “Maybe I am the biggest idiot in the world then.”
Charles stared at him, all hope and faith in his eyes gone in an instance. “If you’re okay with being a loser, then you will never have the privilege of knowing Oscar any longer.”
And then he raised his hand for the taxi that was coming, opening the door once it came and not looking back. That’s who Charles was–the guy who would never look back once it’s over, once he’s over. The taxi sped away, driving down the long straight of road towards the city.
Lando wasn’t a loser, he was just a liar.
Lando jolted awake, his alarm clock ringing obnoxiously loud. He rubbed at his eyes, glancing at the time–5:30 AM–and forcefully raised his body to sit up against his pillows. He laid comfortably, patiently giving his brain its respective time to wake up and start working properly. He needed to be awake, he needed to be well awake at work as there’s absolutely no room for mistakes.
Lando hates making mistakes. He’s made too many in his life.
It’s been three years since Lando had seen Oscar. He hadn’t seen him since that infamous day outside the pub–his last moment with Oscar being one where he ultimately broke his heart. After that whole fiasco, Lando had wholeheartedly decided to move to Amsterdam to finish his studies. Amsterdam was much different from Cambridge: Amsterdam was quiet, the people there didn’t care about the things you thought they cared about, they’re welcoming and cool and let things happen. It was perfect–It was what he needed after…that.
Amsterdam was good to him. It provided him with people who cared about him, experiences that changed him, and a language that understood him. It was all hard to process at first, change was never something Lando enjoyed. Lando was a reactor, he reacted to almost everything that happened in his life–change, love, hate–you name it. He was never judged here. He was never expected to be something.
Lando had done a lot of thinking on the plane. He also did a lot of thinking while he studied, while he ate, while he laughed, while he was on the verge of sleep, while he wrote. Lando had thought too much. That’s the kind of guy he was. He was very reflective–almost to the point of where it begins to take over his life.
Lando closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as his hand reached to swing the covers off of his lap.
“Good morning Lando.” George greeted, his hand pulling away from the doorhandle. “How’d you sleep?”
George was Lando’s first friend at UvA. They had mutually bonded on the fact that they were both British, far away from home, and having to take another anatomy course because their original credits weren’t accepted. (It was a pain in the ass.) And now, he is using the key Lando personally lent to him for emergencies to say good morning.
“As well as expected when you have a girl moaning loudly from the other side of your flat.” Lando replied dryly, a sarcastic grin plastered on his face.
George smiled back, leaning against the wall. “Oops. Sorry about that.”
“What time did she even go home?” Lando asked, yawning. “It felt like you were doing her for hours, mate.”
“About 4 in the morning? I don’t know, I practically kicked her out as soon as we both were over it.”
Lando cheesed, an actual laugh escaping his lips. “A hotshot doctor has sex with a woman he meets from a bar and then kicks her out once it's over. Typical!”
“Oh, whatever.” George rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you at work, yeah?”
Lando nodded along, taking a bite out of a slice of bread. “See you.”
George closed his door, the weight of it making it slam shut. Great. That woke him up for sure. Lando hurried over to his room to scramble through his closet, searching for a pair of clean scrubs that were not terribly wrinkled. He let out a quick ‘aha!’ as he found a dark blue pair, pulling his pajamas off to quickly shimmy into them.
Lando would say he’s changed. He can’t explain it much, but he has. He just carries himself differently, he thinks differently, he even sounds different. He’s 23 years old now–he has three years of new experience under his belt compared to before. Amsterdam changed him. It was like seeing the sun for the first time after a long period of gloominess–bright, exciting, hopeful.
It still would be gloomy here, but this gloom felt different to the one back home in England. It was comforting, it held him like a warm blanket. Lando would watch the dutch rain with no fear or discomfort, he would just look at it and smile.
Lando wasn’t afraid of gloom anymore since he left.
1 Dutch, 3 Frauds
George
Are we still on for tonight?
Max
We better be
I missed my race for this
Daniel
What a wimp
Yeah we’re on
Lando?
Lando
lol
yes we are
“Lando! My man!” Daniel called out, opening his arms to wrap around him in a tight animal-like embrace. “It’s been so long.”
“Danny boy!” Lando cooed against the elder’s shoulder, looking around the crowded restaurant. “Where have you been, loca?”
Daniel laughed at the reference, pulling back to tilt his head. “Oh, you know, I was out in Thailand.”
“Yeah?” Lando raised a brow. “I wonder what you went to do there.”
Daniel and Lando were probably the most rowdy out of the group. They became close after George introduced them to each other at the intern mixer for the hospital. Daniel was already an attending anesthesiologist at that point; but he still made an effort to meet all of the young interns. He was Australian and single: the perfect combination to make all of the women swoon over him–but, somehow he stayed that way, avoiding relationships like the black plague.
“Hey! You’d be surprised to know that I did not hook up with anyone!” Daniel retorted back.
“You?” George questioned, surprised. “Not having sex with anyone while traveling is unbelievable. That’s like saying Verstappen didn’t pack his sim-racing set up in his luggage.”
“I heard my name?”
Max Verstappen. His savior–sorta of. He was a world-class brain surgeon that had hundreds of thousands of people traveling to Amsterdam just to shadow him. He was able to make his father’s failing hospital a world-renowned and trusted facility. He was simply great. He was even better as a friend–a classic Dutch. Someone who was straightforward and honest, reliable and focused, and welcoming. He was the one that pulled him out of the ditch he left himself in, showing him around the city, introducing him to new people–good people.
“He’s bringing up Paris and La Palma again.” Daniel informed, smirking.
Max rolled his eyes, pulling out the vacant chair to sit down. “That was two times. Two! I don’t even bring it anymore with you guys.”
“Yeah, yeah.” George replied, waving his hand. “I saw you hid it under the couch back in Greece along with your porn magazines.”
Max glared at him, Lando and Daniel bursting out in laughter as they reached for each other to stabilize their bodies. Lando felt himself slipping, his belly hurting from laughter. “Oh god, I have to sit.”
This was his group–his closest mates. They were all chaotic in their own ways, perfectly going together and opposing each other when needed. They were there for his drunken ramblings about the past, his puffy eyes and loud sobbing, his bad hair cut that Daniel ultimately had to fix with his knowledge of curly hair, and especially when he would wistfully stare out the window, thinking of what once was.
“Lando,” Max started. “How was working for the first time since coming back from New Zealand?”
New Zealand was nice. He stayed by the ocean even though it was winter down there. It was cold, yet the wind near the rocks of the beach were freeing. It was a very much needed adventure, his body feeling less tense since he came back.
This morning after coming back home though? Oh god—It was horrid. He had to physically pinch himself awake before he reluctantly agreed to George’s coffee persuasions. Lando hated coffee. He hated how it would make him bounce around and feel insanely energetic, and how it would make his sex drive disturbingly high. He hadn’t drank coffee since he was involved with …
“It was as well as expected when you are jet lagged and running on 5 hours of proper sleep.” Lando replied, skimming through the menu. “George was helpful in fixing his involvement with my lack of sleep.”
George smiled cheekily. “Of course I was. Mate, you were, like, falling asleep mid write-up.”
“All because of you and your very loud hookup from the bar.” Lando sighed. “You’ll probably see her again tonight.”
“George? You’re hooking up with women!?” Max joked. “Seriously, you’re such a slut.”
“Hey, at least I don’t fuck my nurses.” George replied, eyeing Daniel.
“Oh my god.” Lando winced. “It was so disgusting catching them.”
“That was a mistake! I don’t do that anymore!” Daniel defended himself, eyes widened.
“Mate, he was like 21 and you were ancient.” Max shot back with a laugh, nursing his glass of water in his hand.
“Whatever!” Daniel let out. “Haters gonna hate. At least I get laid.”
Lando rolled his eyes, automatically knowing the dig was at him. “That is a choice! I choose to not get laid!”
“I can vouch for him.” George giggles. “There’s so many girls and guys who eye fuck him when we go out but he always rejects them. What a yearner! I wonder who he’s thinking about! Perhaps his name is Oscar and he’s a dirty blonde Australian guy who attends Cambridge University!”
The group collectively laugh, Lando attempting to mask the sudden weight of his heart. “You haven’t fucked a guy since your lovely and precious Alex.” Lando laughed. “And besides, I’m over Oscar.”
George stood still, shaking his head with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Touche.”
***
The table was buzzing with energy like always. That was the great part of being with this group–they were able to be lively in a different way compared to his friends back in Cambridge. Back there, they all had something to lose, something they really valued and silently held close to their heart. Here, they would put everything on the table, be loud with what they loved and liked.
It was different. Perhaps even good.
“You’ve been in Amsterdam for four years, mate.” Max chuckled, swirling his wine glass around. “Shouldn’t you be used to this by now?”
Lando squinted his eyes, a smile forming as he shook his head. “Sure. I should be used to being approached for those kinds of things while walking to work in the morning.”
“Maybe you need it.” Daniel shrugged, a hint of seriousness in his voice. “I mean you haven’t been with anyone since that one guy in the club.”
“Which was a mistake!” Lando’s voice raised pitch. “I was drunk, you muppet!”
“It was for sure not a mistake.” George added, eyes glancing over with a knowing gaze. “He looked exactly like Oscar and even had the Australian accent.”
Lando swallowed, a pit of unsettled feelings washing through his stomach. He could feel his heart begin to beat rapidly, his hands raising to take a large gulp of his wine.
George wasn’t wrong. Lando hasn’t forgotten about Oscar. Not even a little bit. Even after years of leaving Cambridge and moving a whole country away, he still thinks about all of the distant memories that haunt his life. He sees Oscar in everything, he hears him in every voice he listens to, thinks of him in every instance.
It was apparent that Lando would, probably, never forget him.
Max glanced over, his hand reaching to bring Lando’s shoulder towards him. “Relax, guys. Lando is practically sober from Oscar, right?”
Lando couldn’t help but nod, a pained smile on his face. “Enough of him, guys.” Lando sighs out before gulping down his wine. “How about we go to that jazz bar on the corner?”
***
Lando’s sweater stuck to his chest as he nodded along to the music. It was quite warm in this bar. George was over in the corner talking a woman’s ear off, glass in both of their hands as she nodded along. Lando let out a breathy chuckle, turning his attention back to the glass of wine in front of him.
“Is that your friend over there?”
Lando turned to where the voice was coming from, slightly startled by how striking the man was. He was blonde with a kind of floppy hair that sat perfectly on his forehead. He was paler, and had a clear and distinct mole on his nose. He was beautiful—model-like.
Lando nodded. “Uh, Yeah. Could you tell?”
“Eh, kind of.” He responded back. “I was hoping he was your friend since he’s currently talking to my sister.”
Lando’s eyes widened. “Oh! Um, sorry? Is that a bad thing? I could tell him to lay off if that’s the case.”
“No!” The guy replied, fired up. “No, sorry, um, I just am pretty much alone since my sister left me for your friend.”
Lando smiled, the buzz of his wine making the room feel even more cozy and warm than before. Lando leaned on his palm, turning his body to stare at the guy. “You go out often?”
The man shook his head, drinking his respective drink. “Not really. I’m more of a homebody.” The man stared at Lando, silent. “You?”
Lando shrugged. “Kind of. When I was younger I would go out more than I do now.”
“How old are you?”
Lando’s eyebrows raised, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips. The guy batted his eyes, quickly apologizing. “Sorry! That was really forward.”
“No, no.” Lando shook his head. “It was fine. I’m 23 turning 24 in a few weeks.”
The guy nodded along, “Nice. I’m 23 too. But, I just turned 23.”
“You’re a year younger, huh?”
“Seems like it.” The guy replied, eyes slowly glancing behind Lando. “Ah, well, it has been a pleasure talking to you….”
“Lando.” Lando chuckled.
“Lando.” The blonde repeated, a coy smile on his lips. “I’m Henri. I hope to see you again.”
Lando glanced behind him, exchanging a warm smile with his assumed sister. George walked over, a blush on his face.
“Wow,” George lets out, dazed. “She’s lovely.”
Lando shakes his head. “Aw, George. You fall in love so easily.”
George breaks out of his daze to stare at Lando, eyes menacing. “Oh, shut up. She was just a nice girl to chat with. “
“Sure!” Lando smiles.
“Besides, she has a boyfriend.” George nods, sipping his drink before slamming it down to the counter. “And I still am madly in love with my childhood best friend who has left me.”
Right. George was hopelessly in love with a guy he’s been separated from longer than he was close to. This supposed guy was so perfect that George just could not forget about him. Lando couldn’t judge, though. He had no right to—he practically was in a similar boat just delete the part of still loving them of course.
“Cheers.” Lando let out, clinking their glasses together.
Lando downed his drink, letting out a pleased sigh. Once he let the burning sensation of thinking about Oscar pass, his eyes searched the bar. “Hey, have you seen Max and Daniel?”
George hummed. “Kind of. Max was just talking to the bartender at the bar in the other room. Daniel was…busy.”
“Busy?” Lando raised a brow.
***
Lando felt bile raising up his oesophagus. Daniel was shoving his tongue down a woman’s willing mouth, his hands on her waist. So much for not hooking up with anyone in Thailand.
Gross.
“Ew. Get a room.” George yelled from afar, hand curved to make his voice louder.
Daniel turned to him, pulling away from her. He had his normal cheeky smile raising his cheeks, his eyes squinting due to his inability to wear his glasses after dark. Daniel raised his middle finger before grabbing the woman’s face and planting his lips onto hers.
“I think I’m gonna head out.” Lando called out to George over the loud music. “It’s like one in the morning and I have a shift at 9.”
George nodded, patting his shoulder and saying a casual goodbye. Lando smiled before pulling away from his touch and walking towards the door.
It was cool outside. The breeze hit his face in a familiar way, one that didn’t bother him as much as it used to. It’s taken Lando a while to get used to the chilly air that is Amsterdam. The gloom isn’t much different from back home–but it’s different. Everything is different here. He strolled down the still busy streets, although it was pretty muted.
Amsterdam was quiet. It had this strange sense of comfort and freedom even though it was populated. You could hear the soft chatter of people walking down the streets, and could hear the quick zip of the bikes—but it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t bustling. It was perfect. It gave Lando everything he needed, especially after it ended with Oscar.
Lando stopped abruptly, his heart racing again. Did it ever begin? Could him and Oscar ever end if it never started? Lando could feel the weight of the pit that he left unburied in his heart, the Oscar shaped knick on his heart.
He sighed, continuing to walk along the streets. He began to see where his block was forming, beginning to turn the corners needed to arrive at his flat. His eyes immediately stared at the mailbox, a few cards and bills poking out. Great. His flat was warm, which Lando mentally thanked himself for putting the heater on before he went out. He tugged his shoes off, setting the mail down on his counter pretty swiftly before scrambling through the magazines.
Bills. Ugh.
And there it was. It stood out like red in a sea of green. It was a perfectly neat, cream coloured envelope. It had his name there, written in fancy and bubbly writing. The sender’s address and name was not written dark enough to see in this kind of lighting. Maybe it was his mom? No, her handwriting was much more condensed than this person' s was. Maybe it was Oscar? No. What is he even thinking?
Well, he might as well open it. Lando took a deep breath before carefully unfolding the envelope, his eyes trailing as he spotted a baby blue card inside. His eyebrows raised intrigued, eyes darting to read what it said.
Please join us for the wedding celebration of Alexander Albon Ansusinha & Logan Hunter Sargeant.
Saturday, July 17th.
2021
4 o’clock pm
Villa Flora
Lake Como, Italy
Dinner and dancing to follow.
Lando’s eyes widened.
Oh my god.
Back in Cambridge, they would all discuss marriage so tenderly. Charles was the hopeless romantic–imagining a white wedding filled with lots of people and lots of flowers. Charles was French country, blue sea, and sunny day. Alex was more of a modern man with refined tastes. He wanted a simple and minimalistic wedding. Logan was a classic American–he wanted the detailed invitations, the aesthetics, a somehow comforting and familiar feeling.
And now those two are getting married. Like, actually. They will have to rely on each other when they’re sick, or hurt, or when they’re broke. They will be able to call each other that seven letter word that we only use when someone is ours–when someone somehow belongs to us. Lando still can’t wrap his head around it: Alex. Logan. Alex and Logan. Does Alexander Sargeant sound good?
Marriage always felt so far away for Lando. It was always something so distant–something reserved for people who were established, and knew what they wanted. Is Alex one of those people now? The ones who were established and knew what they wanted? Has Alex really changed in those three years they’ve been apart?
In all honesty, Lando has reflected on the situation many times. He always comes to one conclusion: He was wrong. He was wrong for being a coward and running away from the person he truly wanted, he was even more wrong for not letting the people who cared for him in. Had he not turned away from them, Alex probably, somehow, would've been able to knock sense into Lando. He would’ve told him that he was stupid and needed to cling to Oscar even more.
But he hadn’t. He couldn’t–Lando never let him. And now, he has to deal with the bridge he burned on his own terms. He didn’t want to burn Oscar in the process; But, it was the only way to stop him from loving him back then.
When it was Oscar’s turn to answer about marriage during that conversation, he just smiled to himself, cheeks turning pink. He looked at Lando with some sort of fondness, something that Lando ultimately knew no one could ever replicate, and he said, “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I’m with that person.”
Charles had called him cheesy. He just nodded along, his pride not hurt. Lando had also called him a cornball, but deep down, he felt his stomach flip at the thought of Oscar being a husband. It was probably a thought he shoved to the pits of hell once he realised how bizarre it was–but when he really thought about it before he slept, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Alex is getting married?”
Lando sat still, nodding slowly. “Yup.”
It still didn't feel real. How did Alex know where he was? He had deleted his Instagram, changed his phone number, and somehow he still was found. How? Lando had thought he was being careful, turning off his location to everyone before getting to the airport, quietly giving his apartment back to his elder siblings, and going completely off the grid. Was he not careful enough?
“Congratulations to your Alex.” George nodded, sipping his coffee. “We’re pretty young still but…yeah.”
Max raised a brow, “I’m still curious about how he found you. You’ve been, like, off the radar for almost four years!”
“You should call him and ask.” Daniel suggested, pulling his lips away from his glass of water. “Him inviting you to his wedding means he doesn’t hate you as much as you think he does.”
Well, no. Lando was a thousand percent sure Alex hated him. Everything about that night made it quite clear that it was over—that he could never come back.
###
Lando stumbled around, his vision blurred. He was at a pity party, the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume and cologne sticking to his clothes. These kinds of parties were the ones that had cool-toned lighting, the ones where he visited when he needed alcohol, when he needed someone to pin to the wall and make out with to forget him, to throw up in the toilets and then drink even more again. He had his sights set on a glass that seemed like vodka or some sort of thing that would mend the growing pain in his heart. His hand moved on its own, cupping around the base of the bottle, his grip loose. He felt the bottle in his hands until it wasn’t.
“Hey!” Lando slurred. “Give me my bottle back.”
Alex looked down on him like he was an animal–disgusting, foreign, different. Lando hiccuped, feeling his stomach churn at the sight. Alex handed the bottle to what appeared to be Logan, but in this light, anyone having dirty blonde hair and a serious face reminded him of Oscar.
Oscar. Where was he? He hasn’t seen him since he ran away. It’s been ages.
“Where’s Oscar?” Lando asked, eyes unfocused. “I really need Oscar.”
“Don’t.” Logan uttered. “You don’t deserve to know that anymore?”
Lando laughed slowly, “What? Just ‘cause I told Oscar off? It’s fine. We always come back to each other.”
“You really think that he’d come back to you?” Logan scoffed, eyes filled with some sort of rage. “God, Lando, you really have no shame nor respect for him.”
Lando eyed Logan, smile dropping into a grimace. “Give me my bottle back.”
They looked at him again–in that horrifyingly observant way that reminded him of what he was missing, of why he was here in this stupid shit hole of a place.
“Lando, you…” Alex started, eyes closed in what appeared to be disgust. “You were always the worst when you’d drink.”
“What?” Lando let out, breathlessly. “I don’t know what you’re-”
“You hooked up with Oscar when you were drunk, you told him you loved him when you were drunk, you flirted and deliberately took advantage of his feelings. You did this drunk, Lando.” Alex fumed, holding eye contact.
“I didn’t-”
“You did.”
No. He didn’t want to believe that back then. He didn’t want to believe anything back then.
“I just didn’t think you’d be that cruel sober, Lando.” Alex condemned. “What you did to Oscar…what you said…I am so fucking angry at you. How could you? How could you even say something like that to him? Regardless of what kind of relationship the two of you had, that was terrible–You’re terrible.”
Lando couldn’t fight back. The numerous shots and glasses of alcohol made him receptive to Alex’s strong words. Alex had caught him at the perfect time, the great in between of drunk and blackout. Alex squinted his eyes, “I can’t talk to you. I can’t even–god, I can’t even look at you.”
Alex stepped closer to Logan, closing his eyes to maintain his already slipping composure. Logan held his waist, holding him close to him. Lando eyed their close bodies, eyes glancing back to see their stern and pained expressions. “Then don’t.”
Alex’s eyebrows furrowed before his face morphed into one of surrender. “Fine.”
They turned on their heels, walking away. But, Logan’s steps slowed, his head turned back to gaze at the already impacted Lando. “I have nothing to say to you besides that you are the biggest coward I’ve ever met. Only a complete moron would have to break someone down like that.”
Lando walked down that dimly lit road alone, barely being able to see where the turns and lights were. He remembered the sting of his eyes as he cried. Lando had no reason to cry–it was true. He was a moron. He was probably the greatest moron. He probably looked rough, his eyes puffy and his nose ran. His head was a mess, spinning in directions he wasn’t even facing. It felt as if his world was coming down on him, the force of it so strong that he could just stand still and wait.
Lando was surprised he made it home that night. He remembered everything. He could vividly see the look in Alex’s eye as he stared down at him, the glare Logan gave him after delivering that devastating sentence, the feeling of his already broken heart crumbling. Alex hated him, it was quite obvious.
Alex would never forgive him for doing this. He didn’t expect him to. That was the kind of person Alex was.
###
“Lando?” George called out, waving his hand in front of his face. “Earth to Lando?”
Lando blinked, eyes finally meeting the people in front of him. “Oh, sorry.”
“I say go for the cake.” Daniel says, taking a bite out of his strudel. Everyone glares at him, his eyes widening and mouth parting in surprise. “What!? Wedding cake is good.”
Lando put his hands over his eyes, “This is going to be a disaster.”
He hates thinking back to those times. Well, actually, he hates remembering them. He hates feeling all of the feelings that coursed through his body back then. But, Alex for sure doesn’t like him anymore. It’s understandable, he was unnecessarily cruel to Oscar; So, what does this mean? Why did he get an invitation? Why should he take it seriously when things ended so abruptly?
“So?” George started, eyes flickering up. “Are you gonna call him?”
Lando sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket. “You guys don’t even know what Alex or Logan or any of these people look like, do you?”
“Nope. I’ve always been curious about your Alex.” Max nodded.
“Well,” Lando scrolled through his photos, tapping loudly. “This is him.”
The trio leaned in to get a better look, squinting their eyes to see the full picture. Max leaned back, nodding along. Daniel raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips together. “That’s a face to a name.”
Lando eyed George, his face still. “George?”
“Oh shit.”
“What?” Lando questioned, batting his eyes.
“That’s…your Alex?”
Lando glanced at Max and Daniel. “Uh, yeah?”
His skin turned pale, his eyes staring at the screen that was set down now. His body was frozen and his hands clasped together. George had never looked like this before–struck, hurt, punched. George looked sick. George was a ghostly colour, his body frozen. His eyes were still on the picture, his expression shattered. Lando knew that look. He saw it on the man he loved the most once before: He looked like the world had just fallen down on him. “You okay?” Lando asked, concern written all over his voice.
“Yeah.” George choked out. “He’s…uh, he’s getting married?”
Lando nodded slowly, “Yeah. He’s, um, getting married to this guy.” Lando swiped to the next picture. “Logan.”
“Oh.” George let out, eyes slowly blinking. “That’s lovely.”
“George, mate, are you okay?” Daniel asked, eyes focused. “You’re kind of out of it.”
“No, um, it’s just…” George stuttered. “How do I even say this?”
“Say what?” Max asked, head tilting in confusion.
George sighed. “I know Alex.”
Lando’s eyes widened. How? When? Why?
“You do?” Lando asked, voice soft. “How!?”
George nodded. “We, um, used to be best friends. We went to school together when we were younger. Alex moved to Cambridge and I stayed back.”
There was a brief silence, Daniel’s mouth opened in shock, Max’s eyes widened and mouth in a shit-eating surprised grin.
“My Alex is getting married.”
Fuck.
George and Lando clinked their glasses together, gulping down glasses of beer. They sighed to the taste, eyes filled with what was described as depression and impulsive desires. Lando wanted to get drunk tonight. It was simple. His old best friend was getting married, he somehow found out where he was living even though he told no one, and now he’s probably being invited to be laughed at and mocked. It seemed like George also wanted to get drunk for most of those reasons too.
“I can’t believe my Alex is your Alex.” Lando muttered, head shaking. “I can’t believe my Alex took your virginity.”
George raised his eyebrows, taking another sip of his glass. “I can’t believe my Alex knows you.”
“Knew.” Lando reminded. “He hates my guts now.”
George deadpanned, giving Lando a knowing look. Huh. He could see why they were friends–they practically acted the same. “Uh uh. No. Alex wouldn’t have invited you if he hated you.”
Lando rolled his eyes, “No.”
“Just call him, mate.” George suggested. “At least you know you can.”
Lando turned to look at George again, whose eyes were wistfully staring at the table, a glimmer of sadness in the corner of his eyes. George was obviously affected by the news of his lifelong love getting married. It was understandable.
Some believe that somehow or somewhere we will meet someone again if it’s meant to happen. Lando knew a part of George believed that—even if he said he didn’t. That’s what we believe when we’ve met the love of our lives, that’s what we hope for when they leave inevitably.
Oscar was the love of his life. It was quite obvious. Those simple, quiet moments when they were tangled with each other, the warmth of his chest as Lando lay on it, the smiles and laughs that were heard across the tennis court, all of it. It was what he had wanted all along: the things he prayed for, cusping his hands together and whispering out his wishes.
Oscar was the one he had always sought and wished for. It was always Oscar. But, it’s over. It’ll always be over.
***
Lando let himself be kissed by Henri. Henri was undoubtedly strong, pushing him against the club bathroom’s door. Lando groaned in response to the sudden pressure, a small grin on his lips. He pushed it open with his back, slowly turning them into where the sink was. Henri took it well, he hoisted Lando up to sit on the edge of the sink, keeping him steady by holding a hand on his waist. It was perfect that Henri was here coincidentally. It was also perfect that he was willing to take away Lando’s stupid feelings of agony over the wedding, over his job, over Oscar…
Stop. He needs to stop. It’s been years. Lando’s hand reaches up to cup Henri’s cheek. He feels the latter’s warmth, something telling him that Henri is slightly nervous. Huh. Cute.
This kiss was…different. Lando has kissed other people since Oscar. He isn’t a prude–he knows he’s not getting Oscar back. But, no one kisses like him. No one. And, he can’t help but feel slightly disappointed by that fact. Henri is a great kisser, his hands move across Lando’s body like jelly, and his lips are soft; It’s just different, though.
God. Lando shouldn't be comparing an innocent person to someone who’s gone. He hasn’t seen or heard from Oscar in three years. He should be over him, he shouldn't be wishing this man in front of him was him instead. That would be cruel. He needs to give Henri a chance; He deserves one.
Lando finally tilts his head, deepening the kiss and reciprocating most of Henri’s passion. Henri moans as Lando’s tongue grazes his, a satisfying dance of tongues ensues. Lando could feel Henri’s hands slowly lowering to palm at his cock, a shocking gasp being let out. No.
Lando pushed Henri off of him, eyeing him as he dragged his wrist to an empty stall. Lando looked like a cat, prancing as he pushed Henri up against the wall, kissing him with more need. His tongue slid against the blonde’s, pulling back with a line of spit. Lando gazed at him as his eyes flickered up from their lips and to his eyes, slowly lowering himself to unbuckle his jeans.
***
Lando wiped his mouth with his finger, feeling himself begin to sober up. He tried to walk out the bathroom discreetly, but it was quite obvious that he had done something that was obviously not peeing. It’s been a while since he did that–the whole crazy hookups in a bathroom. They used to give him this rush that coursed through his body like electricity, but now he just feels used up. It’s not Henri’s fault–he’s nice and just followed what Lando did and wanted. And, Lando doesn't regret doing anything. He just feels bad. It makes sense.
He should've learned that being drunk doesn’t stop you from being depressed–it just makes it feel like everything’s a good idea because you’re depressed. Lando sighed before skimming through the crowd, trying to see if George was still there. He wasn’t, of course. Lando grabbed his phone from his pocket, squinting to read his notifications.
George
Brought someone bacl to my p;ace
Sorey if were loud lollllllllllllllllllll
Typical. Lando let out a ragged breath before walking out, slowly slithering out of the pub.
Lando continued his life as normal: wake up at the crack of dawn, work at the hospital, go home and stare at the window, occasionally go out with his friends. There’s no instances about Alex’s wedding, no thoughts of what to wear or what to think, no talks with either groomsmen.
In fact, Lando decided that he would just not go. It seemed harsh, but he knew he couldn’t. Besides, how could he? Oscar most definitely would be attending, and that was a recipe for disaster. He just…couldn’t do that to Alex, to Oscar, or to Logan.
Back when Alex and Lando first met, they would always talk about the future. They dreamt together. Alex always imagined big things in his life, and Lando would always want to be there for those big things. Even though he wanted to, that didn't mean it would happen. He wasn’t by his side when he got together with Logan in Japan, he wasn’t by his side when he got that winter internship, and he wasn’t there when Alex got engaged.
So, that was it. He would not attend the wedding. He will not ever be able to think of a memory from his wedding, or laugh about a time there–he’ll only have to imagine what it would’ve been like, what their vows would sound like, what Oscar was wearing. It will only be in his imagination.
Lando won’t lie and say it doesn’t sting because it does. It stings a lot.
***
Lando volleyed the ball back to Max, slicing it perfectly. Max ran out of breath, dropping his racket to the floor tiredly.
“God, Lando,” Max breathed heavily. “How the fuck did you get so good at padel?”
Lando smiled, looking down as he sat down on the court. In all honesty, it was the time he spent playing with Oscar. He was good, perfect even. They perfectly evened each other out, making the other grow their skills. Oscar would not give up, and would be the perfect amount of competitive; He would chase after the ball even when they both knew he couldn’t make it; He wouldn’t take Lando’s taunts seriously, a smile hiding on the corners of his mouth.
###
Lando had done a similar play, one that always aggravated Oscar in a way that was hilarious. Lando felt his stomach vibrate as he laughed, seeing Oscar’s pout rest on his lips. “Oh god, I just keep winning.”
Oscar stared at him, “If I win, I’ll give you something.”
Lando perched up, “Like what?”
Oscar grinned. “You’ll see.”
Lando squinted, his eyes trained on the Australian. “You’re on!”
They volleyed back and forth, the other making plays that were definitely illegal in real life. They both didn’t care, though—It was life or death to Lando. It’s not like he didn’t want to see what Oscar was going to give him—he really did—he just despised losing to him. Lando gave it his all, powerfully swinging the racket to scissor the ball onto the opposite side of the court.
Oscar calmly hit it back, setting his body in the middle of the court, eyes gazing at Lando’s stance. Lando hit it like usual, swinging it to the exact place he wanted the ball to go. He only blinked. A blink! And suddenly, the ball was behind him, bouncing at the floor. Lando dropped his racket in shock, mouth opening. “What!?”
Oscar shrugged, a small smirk on his face. “Huh. Looks like I won.”
“What!” Lando protested. “That wasn’t-what! How’d you do that?”
“I’m just that good.” Oscar nodded. “Anyways, come here.”
Lando stared at him before hesitantly going over the net to Oscar, standing in front of him awkwardly. “So, um, what are you going to do…”
Oscar smiled. “Oh, you know…just this.”
That’s when he did it: grabbed Lando’s waist with his left hand and cupped his cheek with his right, planting their lips together in a warm, gentle kiss. Lando immediately melted into it, the kiss almost quickly working to remedy his annoyance from his loss. Oscar moved in quickly, slowly tilting his head to deepen the already passionate kiss. Lando felt the intensity of the match slowly fade away, all his brain was screaming was Oscar, Oscar, Oscar, Oscar.
Oscar pulled away, a proud smile on his face. “Alright. Now, you’re gonna cook us food.”
“What!” Lando shrieked.
###
“Lando?” Max called out, suddenly in front of him. “Did you hear me?”
Lando felt a tear run down his cheek, his lip quivering. His heart rate was beating quickly, his hands shaking. His eyes were beginning to water again, his finger instinctively coming up to wipe his tears.
God, this was embarrassing. “Yeah.” He croaked.
“You’re not okay.” Max said, dropping down to look at him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Lando felt it all burst out, like a dam. He began to sob, the mere thought of Oscar making him feel such strong emotions. He couldn’t hide it anymore—he may not love him anymore but his heart was not mended yet. If anything, it was the least fixed thing in this whole situation.
Why did he do that to Oscar? To himself? It was so good…why…why did he do it?
“I just…” Lando mumbled, nose running. “I just fucking miss Oscar.”
Max nodded, wiping some of his tears off his cheek. He stared at him tenderly, a look he hadn’t gotten to see nor feel for years. No one would ever come close to him—no one. It was only ever Oscar. He could go to every country, feel the touch of others, or even hear the voice that belonged to someone else—but it wouldn’t matter—it would never be Oscar’s.
And that thought didn’t scare him anymore, it just weighed him down; anchored him to the very ground he was crying on.
Alex.
“Oh my god.” Lando let out, dropping his plastic bag from the corner store.
Alex was there, standing outside his building, scarf on his neck, and suitcase beside him. He looked older now, his hair longer and bangs wispy on his forehead. He had a soft smile on his face, his hands were in his pocket, and he wore one of those big, heavy weather jackets.
“Ello, Lando!” Alex exclaimed, stepping closer to the frozen brunette. “Lovely complex by the way.”
Lando couldn’t believe it. He was still in shock. How could he…how did he…“How’d you know where I live?” Lando asked, mouth wide open.
Alex grinned, grabbing the plastic bag. “Mama Norris knew her boy was lonely it seems.”
Lando groaned. Mum. Why would she do that? She didn’t know everything, but it was quite obvious that Lando thought they hated him and wanted him to pass away as kindly as possible. He still remembers his hurried sobs, and his wavering voice that repeated that he wanted to disappear. He remembers his mum’s shushed reassurances, her voice, her promises that she worked to fulfill.
He never thought he’d see Alex outside of this apartment: smiling like nothing happened between them. He couldn’t even imagine it because of how much things have changed. But, it's here; right in front of his eyes. “That makes sense.” Lando replied, glancing down.
“So, are we going to just stay outside and freeze to death?” Alex questioned, hiding his sarcasm within his words. “That would be a fun death.”
Lando looked up at him, eyes telling.
***
Lando had bought beer to warm himself up before he knew Alex was here. So, to be a great host, he decided to share his four-pack with the other. Alex smiled as he rambled about his job as a veterinarian, about the weather, about how Cambridge is still as gloomy as ever but he somehow can’t find the urge to leave. He rambled until he was out of things to say, of course he was missing the major talking points, though.
Lando chuckled, “So, Alex, why are you really here?”
“Do you want me to be honest?” Alex asked, sloshing his bottle around. “Logan and I got into a fight.”
Lando’s eyes widened, dropping his drink down. “Why?”
“Oh, you know,” Alex rolled his eyes. “Logan wants to go back to Florida, I want to stay in Europe. The usual.”
“Usual?” Lando sighed. “Why didn’t you guys discuss these things before you got engaged?”
Alex scoffed playfully. “Calm down, mate. It’s not even that big of an issue personally.”
Lando shook his head, taking a sip out of his beer. Jesus Christ. That was a major issue that definitely had to be talked about. Lando sent a prayer for their marriage. They would need it.
“Plus,” Alex added. “I wanted to see you.”
Lando gulped. “Me? Why? It’s been a while.”
“That’s the point.” Alex nodded. “You definitely got our card. Why didn’t you respond?”
Oh, you know, I was just planning to miss my really old friend’s wedding because I knew it would be a trap to be punished for my very wrong actions a few years back. Yup. Just my plan.
“I…I knew I shouldn’t go.” Lando swallowed. “Your wedding deserves to be remembered for being happy, youthful, happy. I would make it the opposite.”
“No!” Alex winced. “Oh, come on, Lando. I wouldn’t have invited you if I thought that would happen. Besides, I got a lot of shit from Logan for that. I only did it after thinking about it a lot.”
Ah, so Logan did not want him around. Great. Even more reassurance that he should go. Lando closed his eyes, “I don’t want you guys to fight over me. Just tell him I’m not going.”
Alex stood up, “No!”
Lando opened his eyes, staring at a very determined Alex. “I want you there, Lando.” He said, voice stern. “I…don’t think I can even go through with marrying someone without you there.”
“What about Log-”
“Forget Logan!” Alex winced, eyes closing. “Fuck Logan’s thoughts. It’s my wedding too.”
Alex had never looked like this before. He never looked so desperate for something to happen. Lando couldn’t believe it–Alex wanted him there. He had missed his major life events already–but he wants him there, sitting and smiling along with them. He didn’t even care about his fiance’s dismissal of him going, he was set on it. That was Alex: he made a decision and stood on it. And right now, that decision was Lando would be there.
Lando swallowed, looking around his place. “Do you actually want me there?”
“Yes,” Alex nodded, sitting down. “I really want you there. You’re…still my best mate, Lando. Even if it’s been years.”
Oh god. Lando may just cry at that. All this time, he believed that it was over–that he would never get his friend back. But, here he is, staring down at him with such intensity that he knew it wasn’t a lie, or a prank. Alexander Albon wasn’t going to give up on Lando. And, Lando won't either.
“I’ll go.” Lando conceded. “I’ll be there, Alex.”
With his usual wide and bright smile, Alex exclaimed. “Yay!”
It’s been a day since Alex arrived. Alex’s return flight was on Monday morning. They had already spent their time walking around his neighborhood, getting coffee, and taking cute photos for Lando’s mum. It was nice to have someone familiar here with him.
“So,” Alex started. “What have you been up to in Amsterdam?”
Lando laughed, “Oh, you know, lots of massages.”
Alex snorted, choking on his matcha latte that presumably Logan got him into. “No, but seriously,” Lando spoke. “Amsterdam’s been mint. I’ve met some really good friends, good food, the people are lovely, and I finally work at a hospital.”
“You went with nursing?” Alex asked, eyes widened.
Lando nodded. He was undecided while he was attending Cambridge. Back then, he didn’t really know where he was going in life–he was just going with life, not really chasing after much. He always wanted to work in a hospital though. Once he got into nursing school, he knew he wanted to go into peds because of his rounds and the children he helped.
Nursing pretty much saved him. But, he wouldn’t tell Alex that–it would make him ask what he needed saving from.
“Anyone you’re seeing?” Alex raised a brow, grinning.
Lando shook his head, “Not really.”
“What!?” Alex gasped, eyes widened. “Lando Norris, the hottest guy in Amsterdam, is not seeing anyone? You’re joking.”
Lando shrugged, smirking. “I haven’t been with anyone for years, mate.”
“Years?” Alex winks. “I didn’t write that you’d be celibate on my bingo card.”
“No one would’ve.” Lando grinned.
The atmosphere turned a bit more comfortable, their natural habit of comfortable silence returned like usual. Alex gazed out at the busy street, and Lando continued to sip his cup of iced tea. Alex did look different. He looked more comfortable, relaxed, happy. Lando wondered if there were any physical changes on him. Was he also different too?
“What are you doing tonight?” Alex asked, releasing his grip on his empty drink. “It’s a Saturday night, don’t tell me you’re going to go into hermit mode and stay home…”
“Relax,” Lando laughed. “I’m hanging out with my friends tonight at a bar.”
Alex nodded along, a small smile resting on his face. Oh. Oh my god. Lando had the best idea ever.
“You could, uh, go with me.” Lando blurted. “If you want…”
“Wouldn’t I be intruding?” Alex asked, shyly scratching at his cheek. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”
“Oh, please. They love new people.” Lando chirped. “Besides, they already know of you…I might've spilled a lot of details of Cambridge to them.”
Alex’s face turned red. “What the hell did you tell them!”
“Oh nothing!” Lando sang. “Just that you almost peed your pants my freshman year because Charles scared you.”
Alex lunged towards him playfully, Lando dodged it and grabbed his drink to skip outside. “Lando, I’m going to kill you!”
***
The bar was filled with the chatter of the groups of people sitting in it. Max and George were already at a table, casually talking to one another about their recent surgeries. Lando could see them from the window, their side profiles so profound that it made them stand out.
“My friends are in there.” Lando informed, pointing at them.
Suddenly, on cue, both Max and George turn to look out the window. George smiled at Lando before his eyes shifted to Alex, his mouth parting and eyes widening. Lando could feel Alex stiffen next to him, his head whipping to stare at Alex’s frozen countenance.
“C’mon,” Lando pulled at Alex’s wrist. “Let’s get inside!”
He dragged Alex into the bar, the door shutting as he approached their table. Max had a knowing smirk resting on his lips, his eyes flickering up to greet the two. “Hey, Lando. I’m Max. You must be Alex, right?”
Alex nodded, reaching a hand out to shake Max’s. “Yeah. A pleasure meeting you!” His attention directed to George, who was batting his eyes, mouth parted.
“George?” Alex breathed.
“Hi.” George replied, cheeks a lighter shade.
“Hi.” Alex responded back, staring down at him. “It’s been…god, decades, right?”
“Yeah. It’s been so long…I…wow, I don’t know what to say.” George chuckled in surprise.
“I know what to say. I’m sorry for being late, I had to finalize paperwork.” Daniel apologized before looking at the two standing men. “Sup, Lando. Oh, hello Alex. Congrats on your engagement.”
Alex was noticeably flustered, “Thank you…”
Lando smiled, “So, what’s to drink?”
***
The group took Alex in as expected, asking him questions about his life back in England and talking about their usual subjects. It was nice–combining both past and present. Oscar, Charles, and Logan would’ve fit in well. Logan probably would’ve laughed at Daniel’s remarks on Texas and American football, Charles would’ve enjoyed George’s whoring around the city and partying, and Oscar…Oscar would’ve definitely loved Max’s commentary on music and his recent wishlist of classic literature.
Lando sighed, glancing at the bodies of his friends who were all engaged in such a stupid, yet very endearing conversation about the different varieties of gayness. He loved them—his friends, his best mates, the ones who were right beside him when things went to shit and he couldn’t do much about it.
He just really fucking missed Oscar.
“The thing is,” Alex chuckled. “There’s like levels of being gay. There’s Lady Gaga gay, James Charles gay, and then there’s Johnathan Bailey gay.”
“I’m pretty bisexual, or whatever the term is.” Max nodded. “I mean women are nice. I like women. I have sex with a lot of women. And I also have a lot of sex with men. So, I’m gay to others.”
George laughed, “I’m in the same boat. Kind of. I haven’t had sex with a guy since…” He trailed off, looking away. “But, I love both. It’s so hard to choose.”
“You don’t have to choose.” Lando shrugged. “I like pretty much both.”
Daniel cackled. “Yeah. Sure. You don’t even answer to a guy or girl anymore. You just ignore everyone’s advances towards you. Hell, if I didn’t know you were heartbroken for a while, I would’ve gone after you.”
George and Max snorted, nodding their heads at Daniel’s remarks. Lando glanced at Alex, their eyes meeting. Alex’s eyebrows were knotted together, a countenance of confusion washing over his face. Oh. He didn’t…he didn’t know.
No one besides his group in Amsterdam knew his real feelings—the ones that were hard to swallow and only came up when he would drink and babble about it. No one knew anything, not even Alex. Alex could only guess and react based on what Oscar or Charles told him. He had no idea. Alex parted his mouth to speak, but Daniel was already ready to speak again.
“So, Alex,” Daniel brought up, a sinister smirk on his face. “Are you happily engaged or just engaged?”
George slapped Daniel’s shoulder, causing a playful ‘what’ to be let out. Max let out a cautious laugh before sipping his glass, intrigued. Lando rolled his eyes, what a question!
“I’m…happily engaged, I guess.” Alex responded, sighing. “We just are fighting a bit.”
“Fighting? How so?” Max questioned.
Alex took a deep breath, rolling his eyes. “Logan, my fiance, wants us to move to America after we’re married. That’s where he wants to settle down. I don’t really see myself being there, though. That place just isn’t…my thing.”
“I warned him that they should've discussed this before getting engaged, but…” Lando raised his eyebrows afterwards.
“No, no, If he really wants to move back there then…I’ll do that for him.” Alex said, empty.
“But, what do you want?” George asked, voice soft. “You’re also a part of the…marriage too, so what do you want?”
Alex looked at George, his expression fond. “I want to travel the world with the person I marry. I don’t want to settle down somewhere automatically…I want us to spend time exploring places, trying food, engaging in culture…”
“Then do that.” Daniel said, clinking his drink down. “Just tell him straight up that you don’t want to move to America.”
Alex gulped. “Is it that simple?”
“Uh, yeah?” Max replied. “You shouldn't ever be scared to communicate your needs to your partner, especially a man you’ll be marrying.”
Lando could see the wheels in Alex’s head turning, a sign that he is actually taking their comments into consideration. But, he could also see the uncomfortable grimace on his face, a sign that he probably wanted to stop thinking about Logan and his decisions in life.
“You know what would be fun tonight?” Lando proposed. “Let’s make Alex go out clubbing…the dutch way.”
***
The music buzzed around the floor. Lando wasn’t much of a clubgoer anymore. It never felt the same as before. A part of him feels happy about that—that somehow, Oscar has made such an impact on him that he doesn’t even do what he used to deem was good.
“What are you smiling about?” Max asked, a mischievous grin on the corner of his lips.
“Nothing.” Lando laughed, dancing to the music. “I’m just so surprised that this has all happened.”
Max nodded, “Yeah. This is all so weird. I can’t believe I’ve met, well, Alex.”
Lando nodded, parting his mouth to say something in response. But, Max’s eyes were starting to trail behind Lando, prompting him to look back. Lando had to squint, the lights were goddamn so bright. But, was that…oh my god.
Alex was shitfaced, dancing crazily to the loud EDM music that was pulsing through the club. He had his eyes closed, his hands and body swaying slightly off-beat. Oh my god. What the hell. Daniel was tipsily laughing at him, his phone out and recording the scene. George was moving along with him, their bodies getting terribly close. Daniel was hyping it up like it was something crazy, his bright light forcing the pair to get closer and dance even crazier. They continued to inch closer and closer, their bodies still in a rhythm that matched only each other.
No. This was bad. Alex was looking at George with this glint in his eye that made Lando’s stomach churn. No. This was bad. Really bad. Alex’s arms wrapped around George’s neck, his body still moving along to the bass. Their faces were inches apart, and George, fucking George kept staring down at his lips like a madman.
No! Hell no! Alex was not going to ruin his engagement. Especially with George of all people!
Lando and Max both rushed over, their hands automatically reaching to pull George and Alex apart. Lando had his hand on Alex’s shoulder, keeping him close to his side. Max stared at George, a hint of annoyance and worry in his gaze.
“Hey! You ruined my video!” Daniel pouted.
“Oh, shut up you dickhead.” Max replied, glaring. “We need to head home.”
“What!” Alex slurred. “It’s only, like, three in the morning. I wanna-I wanna be with you guys.”
No, you just want to be with George. I won’t let that happen. I can’t let you cheat on Logan. Lando thought, his eyes staring at the pleading Alex.
“Let’s go home.” Lando sighed, hand squeezing Alex’s shoulder.
“Okay, fine,” Alex continued to ramble, voice combining the words together. “Everyone’s invited to my wedding. Everyone. If I don’t see you guys there, I will be so mad! You all have to go, okay? This was a blast!”
Lando pulled Alex away, his head still turned to wave.
Alex didn’t speak much when he woke up. Lando just quietly served him water and food, a pill of ibuprofen that would help ease his headache. Alex wasn’t the kind of guy to forget things when he was drunk—He would probably forget all of the little details that the sober people would’ve got; But, he remembered most of it. This day was a sign of that.
“So,” Alex coughed, dropping his toast crust on his plate. “When will we talk about it?”
“What happened last night?” Lando asked, chewing on his cut strawberries.
“That too.” Alex nodded. “I mean…the thing.”
Lando already knew what it was about. It was the dreadful and most obvious topic they avoided the whole entire time Alex was here. It was like a fly that you continued to swat but would never go away. Lando sighed, finally turning to look at Alex dead on.
“We can talk about it now if you’d like.” Lando conceded. “Probably best we did.”
Alex gulped, straightening up a bit. “Well, it’s been three years. I would always imagine this conversation but I never thought it’d happen.”
Oh. That kind of stung. Was Alex just going to always keep quiet? Never speak to Lando ever again? Was that his plan? He felt his insides turn at the thought.
“Why did you do it?” Alex asked, voice softer than usual. “I thought you really liked him, Lando.”
Alex needed honesty. Lando was finally honest now. There was no point in being coy—Lando should just say the truth. Flat out.
“I did.” Lando agreed, nodding. “I really did like him. I probably even loved him, I think. I was so madly in love that I started believing we could work out.”
“You guys could've!” Alex enunciated. “He loved you. He told you that. And, I know you did too. So, why?”
Honesty was hard. He really hated talking about this because he would always feel it again: that dark, consuming, heavy feeling of his own actions. “Back then, I knew that Oscar would’ve never loved me if he knew how I truly was.”
Alex opened his mouth to speak but closed it, nodding along. Lando took it as a sign to continue, “I was right. I was so self-destructive that I thought the best idea instead of communicating was to hurt him, to make him not want me anymore. And trust me, I wanted to be loved and wanted by him—And I was. But, I just…knew.”
“It took me three years to hear that Lando. You just disappeared. Changed your phone number, the country you live in, deleted your social media, everything. I…thought I’d never see you again. I was mad at you for a long time.” Alex sighed. “But, after listening to you right now I realized that you needed that. You are so lively here. You are so happy and you’re glowing and you’ve changed so much and I love it!”
It was true. If Alex could see it, then it had to be true. He tried everything to change: for his new friends, for his future lover, and especially for himself. Change was what he feared, yet he felt freed. It was what he needed. His love for running away finally got him somewhere nice, fresh, better. Lando felt clean, he was relieved of his old mindset and old body. And, he was happy about it.
“I did need it.” Lando agreed. “But, sidetrack, what the hell is going on with you and George?”
Alex’s cheeks raised into a gentle smile, his hands holding his fork to pick at his eggs. “He grew up well.”
Lando stared at him with some sort of disgust, “What the fuck.”
“No,” Alex started. “It’s not what you think. I was just drunk, I guess. And, I knew George before and we…we were close.”
Lando sipped at his cup of tea, shaking his head. “Don’t forget about all of the wonderful things you have back home.”
Alex finally looked at him, his eyes knowing.
“You too, Lando.”
Alex firmly zipped up his suitcase, finally raising up to look Lando in the eye. He was going back home today—back to Logan who was worried sick about him. He needed the vacation, or the break from whatever problems he had back in Cambridge. Lando could see him, all of him. Finally.
Alex walked towards the door, suitcase in hand. “I’m gonna miss this place.”
“You can always come back, mate.” Lando reminded, a knowing grin on his lips. “You will come back, right?”
Alex stopped at the door, opening it to see his uber. He just stared at Lando for a moment, a good one. Lando awkwardly smiled, feeling the weight of his stare on him.
“Be my best man at the wedding.” Alex proposed, or practically told.
Lando’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Be my best man for my wedding, Lando.”
Alex was asking for something impossible. Lando? Lando being his best man!? What? Has he gone mad? Did he drink before he left? Did he raid Lando’s pantry? Why would Lando have that title…after they only just made up?
“Lando,” Alex called out, “I know what you’re thinking. You’ve been my best mate since we met. You even were my best mate when we were away from one another. It has to be you. No one else could ever deserve it more than you.”
“But…”
“No buts.” Alex shook his head. “You’re my best man, got it?”
“This is a bad idea.” Lando warned, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I’m not leaving until you say yes.” Alex chuckled.
Alex smiled at him, giving him one of his signature evil grins. Oh my god. Alex has somehow convinced himself and Lando that this was a good idea. But, after the chaos of this week and the chaos of the last few years of his life, why not.
Lando sighed, looking away. “I’m your best man.”
Winter in Amsterdam might've been Lando’s favorite time of the year. It had a great chill, rain that would last for weeks, the cafes felt warmer than usual, and most of all, his friends would all get together and give each other gifts before they visited their family.
“It’s freezing here and melting in Perth.” Daniel said, opening the door to Max’s extravagant apartment.
Lando was already lounging on the couch, legs spread comfortably. “Maybe it’s a sign to not go back to Australia and stay here.”
“Yeah,” Max hummed. “That would be nice. You’d keep me company.”
Daniel laughed. “No way! Besides, aren't you going to Belgium to see your mum?”
“Yes, I am. But, I’m also staying here for a while before I go.”
The door opened, a chill of cold air sweeping through before George calmly closed it. “Oh, great! Everyone’s here!”
***
Max gave Lando a cat charm for the holidays.
“It’s lucky.” Max said, “I got in while I was in Japan for that conference.”
Lando wasn’t usually superstitious. He tried not to be. Superstitions just made him worry much more than he already did. But, nevertheless the thought made Lando smile—he probably needed luck.
“So,” Max coughed. “Are we all actually going to the wedding?”
George uncomfortably shifted on the couch, “We’ve known each other for years, so, I probably should.”
Everyone’s eyes shift to Lando’s. Lando freezes, a chuckle coming out. “I kind of have to…I am the best man after all.”
“What?” Daniel gasped. “Oh my god! Congrats, dude! That’s like…wow.”
“You guys made up pretty fast.” Max said, turning his head to look at Lando’s face.
“Oh! Is that why you’re going to Paris?” George asked, eyes finally lighting up a bit.
Lando shook his head. “No, I’m meeting a friend there. We’re gonna spend New Years there.”
Max Fewtrell was Lando’s best friend since they played soccer together in elementary school. Lando’s parents had wanted him to be very active; So, naturally, they had put him into every sport possible. Soccer was one of the sports that stuck with him long enough. He was decent, and the food they got after games was good.
Max was on his little league team. They kind of just stuck together, not really introducing themselves nor asking what the other’s favorite color was or their birthday. They just silently stood with each other, already knowing what the other was thinking.
Max was the first one Lando ran to after the snowy evening at the pub.
###
Lando’s knuckles felt the sting of such a hard knock against a wooden door. The door stood idle for a few moments until it swung open, Max’s eyes widened and mouth parted. “What are you doing here!?”
Lando could see the moment Max recognised that he had been crying—heavily. He sighed, automatically pulling Lando into a deep embrace. The snow was softer than back in Cambridge since he was more north, however Lando still could feel the chill on his back. Max wasn’t usually the hugging type, but something had clicked to him: Lando traveled three hours to him just to see him.
“C’mon.” Max huffed, holding Lando’s shoulder to guide him into the warm home that always welcomed him. “Let’s get you inside.”
Lando had spent two days in Manchester with Max. They had spent most of those two days watching television together, discussing everything besides anything related to school. Lando had learned that Max had begun searching for engagement rings. Pietra was someone who Max held close to him; He was never afraid of loving her. If anything, he probably was more afraid of losing her. Max talked about her as if she had saved his life, or moved a mountain for him.
“Did she save you or go to war for you or something?” Lando attempted to joke.
“No,” Max shook his head, a smitten smile on his face. “She did something far better. She showed me that she was all in. That’s what told me everything. You don’t meet people who are all in often.”
Lando swallowed, nodding along to Max’s words, but internally taking them in. Was Oscar all in? A part of him wants to say he wasn’t—he engaged in a verbal instated friends-with-benefits arrangement. Maybe he was all in on being with Lando for sex and he so happened to believe he was falling in love with him. It wasn’t real—it was just what no-strings-attached sex does to someone. Max throughout the few days spent together avoided asking what happened to make Lando travel such a distance. He could see it though—the look on Max’s face—he wanted to know how he could mend Lando’s heart.
He couldn’t. No one could. Not even himself. Lando could trust no one with the complicated and difficult surgery of conjoining the two pieces back together. How could he? No one would ever be able to do such an impossible thing.
It was snowing and raining, and all he could do was stare out at the window to watch it all fall down. He could even hear the soft patter of the rain when his head laid on the guest bedroom’s pillow. It reminded him that he had fled the scene, leaving behind the cold body of the love both him and Oscar had shared. It didn’t make sense to anyone, but it made sense to him. Lando had felt some comfort when he slept, knowing that he had saved Oscar’s life from reaching rock bottom. A small part of his brain that he couldn’t dare to itch would murmur things that made his heart thump.
If it was for the best, then why did it hurt him so much?
Lando soon came to the conclusion that some things had to hurt. Love was not for the weak, only the strongest could bear to love someone fully. Oscar was strong, Lando knew he was. But he wasn’t strong enough to love him—the real one. And that thought made his body finally let sleep catch up to him.
###
“Lando, god, what took you so long? I thought your flight was arriving at 7?” Max complained, puffer jacket making his body look huge.
The airport was busy, dozens of people walking in and out of the terminal doors. Max looked stupid, but he still looked like himself. His hair was still puffy and his curls were still brushed thoroughly. He also still had that stupid resting expression that plagued Lando’s nightmares.
“You haven’t seen me in months and the first thing you do is complain.” Lando sighs, a chuckle peaking from his voice. “Typical Max.”
Max rolled his eyes, finally bringing Lando into a warm hug. They did that now—hugging. So, Lando naturally let go of his iron grip on his luggage to hug him back. This was where Max stayed now, his home. He was a Parisian or whatever they call it. He would get pricey food at cafes and have to walk everywhere. He would also have to speak English because no one would bother to listen to his very-british-french. Lando sighed, pulling away from him.
“So? Where off to?” Lando prompted, finally tugging his luggage closer to his body.
Max laughed. “Where else? My condo, you twat. I’m tired.”
Oh, right. Night started at six for him. He was such a grandpa. “Of course you are.”
***
Lando settled into his room well. He tried to make it as ‘homey’ as he could. His drawers were stocked, he had his stuffed animals that he kept when he was far from home, and he even brought the lucky cat charm other Max had gifted him. He was ready.
It will be a new year. A year where Lando can finally move past all of his wrongdoings, all of his mistakes, and move past Oscar. He loved him, lots. He probably loved him more than anything he’s ever known—But it’s over. He most likely won’t ever see Oscar again. That was for the better, though. He didn’t deserve to see him anymore.
Lando fell back onto his pillow, the lamp on his bedside table shining bright. If he had to be honest, the times with Oscar were good. They had immense chemistry—even he could admit that. Even a glance at each other was heated, held tension that they weren’t quite sure about. Even the way Oscar touched him felt like electricity had struck him. It was perfect, too perfect.
Lando’s favorite memory to rethink about was when he was dancing alone at the club.
###
He was surprisingly sober, the music somehow making his tense body loosen. He just wanted to dance, to feel free, to somehow ignore the lingering feelings of what was and wasn’t. He had already slept with Oscar multiple times at this point. It was good—addicting. He wanted, no, needed more of it, of him. That was why he needed a break. Oscar was consuming him.
“Fancy a drink?” a man said, the rich tone of his voice surprising the Brit.
Lando would’ve already grabbed the man’s collar, shoving his tongue down the other man’s throat. It was instinct, or habit, or whatever he would call it back then. But, he hesitated. He even felt the hesitation coarse through his body, a part of him becoming agitated that he felt this way.
Back then, Lando would get annoyed when he realised things affected him more than he wanted it to. So, even with the hesitation lingering on his mouth, he nodded and followed the man to the bar. He even hummed to himself as he watched the bartender make the drink, a cocky eyebrow raise appearing on his face.
“A dirty martini.” The man said, winking. “Extra dirty.”
Lando let out a chuckle, a small smirk resting on his lips. This was good—great. He thought he needed to get Oscar out of his system by getting drunk and fucking someone new. He enclosed his hand around the drink, raising the glass to his lips when he suddenly felt the tug of his arm, the drink being pulled away.
Lando turned to look at the culprit, his eyes widening once he saw the cold gaze, strong grip, and clenched jaw. The pair of brown eyes slowly took their eyes off of Lando before making its way to the other man, a stare of warning.
“I don’t think he ordered that martini with white powder in it, mate.” Oscar said, face showing all of its annoyance.
“I don’t think I remembered asking you about it.” The man replied, a glint in his eye. “Lay off, mate. I’m busy here.”
“Yeah.” Oscar nodded, a grin on his face. “I bet you are.”
The man laughed, looking at Lando before rolling his eyes. “Have him. You’re probably a prude anyway.” He walked off, probably going off to wherever the fuck he came from. Lando rolled his eyes at the comment, knowing damn well that he was anything but that. Oscar finally returned his gaze back to Lando, his hand still gripping Lando’s wrist.
“Why’re you here?” Lando asked, tugging at the grip.
Oscar quickly realised his hand was still holding Lando’s wrist tightly, dropping it. “Oh, you know, my dear friend Alex begged me to find you since you ‘mysteriously disappeared into the night.’”
Lando huffed at that, a delighted smile tugging at his lips. “I was bored. That guy was hot. I made him horny. Now I’m blueballed.”
Lando still remembers the flood of satisfaction when he saw Oscar’s smirk get wiped off his face. Oscar had a face that was telling two different things: his face looked stoic all together, but each individual feature began to show the cracks of jealousy. His brows were furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes observant, his mouth in a strong pout, and his jaw clenched even harder than before.
Oscar Piastri was jealous.
They couldn’t even make it to the back of the cab without making out, sloppy kisses being exchanged as Oscar placed his strength into bringing Lando even closer to him. Lando was willing, his legs spreading as Oscar continued to practically fuck his mouth with his tongue. It was hot, it was needy, it was powerful. Oscar didn’t even care nor acknowledge the cab driver’s obvious dismay of the whole situation, judgefully staring up at his mirrors to grimace once he saw that it was definitely not over nor ending anytime soon. Thank god the club was only a seven minute drive from Lando’s house.
Lando was instantly pressed to his door once they got out of the cramped car, Oscar’s hands carefully gripping his hips to pull and put him wherever he wanted. Oscar never fucked like this—it felt real, raw. Oscar would nip at Lando’s lip just to pull him back into another kiss, one that may or may not have even more sensuality in it.
Being kissed by Oscar Piatsri was good. It was always good.
Lando still remembers when Oscar dragged him to his bedroom, pushing his body down just to unbutton and take off all of his clothes. Oscar would leave wet kisses on his neck, on his chest, and would especially enjoy playing with his nipples (which Lando would pretend he did not thoroughly enjoy.) However, these kisses didn’t feel romantic or cute or anything, they felt strong—controlled even. It was good, it was even more addicting. Oscar could fuck him like he loved him and then fuck him like he wanted to punish him. Lando loved it all. He wanted both.
“If you get horny,” Oscar says, mid-kiss. “Don’t fuck someone else. Fuck me.”
Lando felt his breath hitch at that, Oscar ending the sentence with the sound of spit slapping against his cock, Oscar’s hands moving to spread it out. Oh, it was good. He loved the burn that he got whenever Oscar would move his hand pretty quickly up his length. Up and down, that was the rhythm. Sometimes, Oscar would flick his wrist and twist it to mimic a hole, but once he noticed how it made Lando feel too good, he would stop.
Lando didn’t mind only fucking Oscar. He kind of wanted to. He felt his mind drifting as Oscar rolled his hips into him—It was the good kind of mind-wander. His body was physically feeling the highs of being fucked well by someone else, but his brain was losing its function.
Oscar was a good lay: safe, a good listener, versatile yet stable. Lando was missing a catch. Oscar was practically everything he needed to satiate the deep desire that consumed him. Oscar was that desire that consumed his entire being. He wanted and needed him.
After they both came, Oscar laid limp on top of him. Lando raised his hand to pat his back, a small giggle releasing from his lips. “Were you really jealous?”
Oscar got up, a small red tint on his cheeks. “What? No! I was probably just saying things…”
“Don’t worry, Osc.” Lando pecked his cheek. “It’s only you.”
###
Lando looked down at his lap, his dick poking out from his sweatpants. Great. He still gets hard thinking about it. This was embarrassing. Lando groaned before ripping off his sweatpants, taking his cock into his hand and spitting on the other. Lando closed his eyes, his lips twisting together to let some spit drop into the palm of his hand.
The year was about to end. Tomorrow would be the last day that he would be in this year, the last day where he would think about Oscar with tears, and would the last day he would hate himself for it all. So, why not let it out now? If he does it now, he won’t feel the need to think about him or them during the next year, or ever.
Lando slid his hands up and down, twisting it in that familiar way that reminded him of back home. He tried to mimic Oscar’s delicate and smaller hands, but it didn’t work or feel normal. He needed him, he needed his hands, and his face and his perfect and cute mouth. He doesn’t have it though, and he never will. He can only imagine.
Lando feels his orgasm coming, his dick pulsing in ways that remind him of a time he can’t go back to. Lando winces as he comes, his cock shooting out onto his boxers.
He probably will regret it later, and he makes a mental note to wash them ASAP. But, he falls onto his side; The comfortable silence making sleep approach him quietly.
They stood by the Eiffel tower, waiting for the next minute to pass before it’d be a new year—a new day. New Years was Lando’s favorite holiday. He loved the thought of something new, something that would bring him some sort of peace or happiness. The seconds pass like lifetimes, the hold Max has on his girlfriend annoying as Lando stares at it.
Okay. This upcoming year, Lando will not be the biggest hater of Max and Pierra’s relationship. He should probably start searching after the love of his life now. He’s getting older, and his career has settled now.
Cinq!
Oh god. It’s time. Lando needs to look up now, stare at the fireworks that would soon be going off.
Quatre!
Okay. Last thoughts, last crazy things he would like to let out before he starts a new year.
Trois!
Where was Oscar? Was he somewhere in the world? Was it the same time here? He should get this all out before the time runs out. Honestly, he missed Oscar. Like, a lot. Even now. He wished Oscar was here, grabbing his waist and speaking French to him. God, maybe that should be his new year's resolution. No! He needs to move on, like, actually.
Deux!
Okay. This is it. His last thoughts.
Un!
‘I love you, Oscar.’
The fireworks exploded, the crowd jumping in excitement as they clapped. The Eiffel Tower was lit from behind, the fireworks and celebrations loud and bright. Lando could hear the cheers, see the kisses, feel the energy.
It was a new year. A fresh slate. Lando was no longer the man he used to be. He would change, no, he is now forever changed. Lando smiled, gazing at the Eiffel Tower. It shined like always, the beautiful architecture was a feeling itself. She stood tall, standing beautifully as the people celebrated. Lando gazed at her with such admiration, his heart full of hope.
Bonne année, Oscar.
Things returned back to normal. He continues his days of working and meeting his friends with the same amount of enjoyment as before. Would it be like this forever? Pretending that he doesn’t think about it all when he’s alone at night? His heart ached at the thought of it all—of him, Oscar.
“Hey,” Claire called. “Are you okay, Lando?”
Claire: she was one of the kids that Lando had grown quite close to when he started working at the peds unit. She spoke English since her parents moved from Chicago, which made it much easier for Lando to speak to her. She was warm, curious, and very observant. She could obviously tell he was stuck in his head, offering a hand to his leg.
“I’m a-okay.” Lando nodded. “Let’s take your labs, yeah?”
“I don’t wanna…” Claire pouted.
Lando squinted, an uncontrollable smile tugging at his cheeks. “If we do them now, I’ll sneak you some candy.”
Claire’s eyes light up, her mouth falling open into a soft smile. “Okay! Okay!”
Lando grabbed her hand, walking her towards her personal room.
***
Max’s voice rang through the phone. “It’s practically spring. When are you thinking of heading over to Italy?”
Lando sighed, switching his phone to his left ear. “Uh, well, I think I’ll leave around…June? July? I dunno, as long as Alex isn’t alone there.”
“Alex is in Italy now?” Max gasped. “It’s so early…”
“Yup.” Lando nodded, getting up to look through his pantry. “He’s there all alone since Logan didn’t want to leave so early.”
“It’s April, though?” Max sighed, a bang heard through the speaker. “Isn’t that a bit weird?”
Yeah. It was weird. It was no secret that Alex and Logan were having problems in their relationship—hell, almost every single person has some—but their wedding seemed to be the most significant one. Even Lando, the worst relationship adviser, believed this was a problem. He had no right to say it, though.
“It’s weird.” Lando confirmed. “But, I trust Alex. He’s probably doing his work over there and living his life. Maybe he needed a break from it all.”
“A break before a wedding…” Max murmured. “Well, I hope it goes well. I’ll probably fly a week before it happens so I can help out.”
Lando grinned. “Yeah, that’ll be great. I know someone you’ll really like at the wedding.”
Max yelled something out of pocket before hanging up, leaving Lando laughing alone in his kitchen. God, Max really was the funniest guy in the Netherlands when he wanted to be. Lando sighed, closing his pantry before walking over to lounge on his couch. He sat down, a loud groan escaping his lips.
This wedding was happening. It inched closer hour by hour. He would be the man standing next to Alex as he signed his life away with Logan. Alex would be Alexander Sargeant and no one would bat an eye. Was it messed up that a part of Lando felt weird? This didn’t feel like a conventional wedding—all of it. How would he face Charles after that night in the pub? Logan after he broke his best friend’s heart? Or Oscar after he practically destroyed his views on relationships? This felt like a humiliation ritual. Maybe…Maybe Alex really didn’t want him there and this was all just a prank. I mean, how could he? Lando ruined everything back at Cambridge. What he did wasn’t just something you forgive and forget…he…he really did hurt the ones who cared about him the most.
Lando felt the buzz of his phone, his eyes already glancing over to pick it up.
+44 122365896570
Lando, it’s me, Logan. I got your number from Alex. I know about everything and I wanted to let you k…
Oh god.
Lando pressed the message, squinting at the bright light.
+44 122365896570
Lando, it’s me, Logan. I got your number from Alex. I know about everything and I wanted to let you know because even though it’s been years I know what kinda guy you are at heart. I can’t really do much about you being Alex’s best man. So, I want you to know that I’ve let go of it and I’m not upset to be honest. I just hope you realize that this is our special day and Alex is trusting you to not do anything reckless. We don’t have to talk about the past, but it means a lot to both of us. Another thing to know is that Oscar will in fact also be my best man. Again, we want this wedding to be good. So, if that’s okay then I’ll see you in July.
Lando
thanks for the text logan. uh yeah i’m ok with it. i also don’t want to fuck things up. i won't do anything, i promise.
+44 122365896570
Liked a message.
Lando was on a plane. He felt his feet dangling from his reclined seat, his back leaned against the seat. He had brought months worth of clothes, his scrubs, and even other valuable items. He was on his way to Italy, Alex had convinced him to go a month earlier to “get into the wedding spirit.” What spirit could he really have? It’s not like he’s getting married. Lando gazed out at the window, Lake Como slowly coming into view. It was beautiful—he had only visited once when he was a kid.
Alex knew his stuff, of course.
The captain safely landed the plane, everyone raised from their seats to get a head start out. Lando felt pretty relieved he got first class, a quicker exit out of the stuffy plane. Once the Italian sun kissed his face, he felt the warmth of summer. A Dutch summer was much different from an Italian one: one was filled with rain, and the other filled with sun. It’s been a while since Lando felt this—excitement.
Alex waited for him at the airport, embracing him as soon as he spotted him. “Oh god, I’ve missed you! I’m so excited! It’s gonna be us three again!”
Lando froze, “Us three?”
Alex laughed awkwardly. “How do I say this…well, we will be staying in Charles’ villa.”
“What?” Lando felt his heart combust. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner!?”
“Okay! Well,” Alex attempted to explain, the words getting caught in his throat. “I knew you’d be nervous around Charles but he’s okay with it! He’s fine! He actually wanted to see you himself.”
Great. Charles Leclerc: the man who holds grudges longer than the Longplayer, deems people “incompetent”, and who believes that revenge is the best way to feel better about things. He wants to see Lando?
“This must be a prank. Am I being recorded?” Lando questioned, sincerity on his face. “This has to be. Why would Charles, out of all people, want to see me? Especially after everything?”
“I don’t know.” A voice said. “Maybe because he’s known you for years and you suddenly went MIA and he didn’t know if you were alive or not. Hell, maybe he even missed his favorite partygoer.”
Lando stopped, turning around to see the very man they were speaking about. Charles looked different: his once lanky body was now more toned, his hair had more length and was thicker than before, his eyes perhaps even looked a little more emerald. He oozed sexual appeal still—maybe even more than before.
“I’m sorry.” Lando apologised, eyes glancing everywhere. “I just thought that you wouldn’t want to see me.”
“Relax, who hasn’t broken a few hearts before?” Charles smirked. “Besides, Alex told me everything.”
Lando glared at Alex, an apologetic grin on the latter’s face.
***
Charles’ hand was carefully on the wheel, humming along to the melodies of whatever song was blasting on the radio. Charles’ dark red convertible—she was dreamy, smooth, and a good ride. Lando stood up, feeling the gusts of wind travel through his hair. “Wooo!!!” He screamed, the leafy highway making the scenery even more freeing.
The sun cascaded down Alex’s face, his body turned to take a photo of Lando’s arms out and cheeky smile. Charles pressed his foot down, the engine roaring as they drove farther down into the city. This was what he needed: a trip where he was not Lando Norris—just a guy enjoying his twenties.
Lando sat down as they approached Charles’ house, the car smoothly turning into the curb. “Oops. Parking’s not my specialty.”
Alex slammed the door. “We can tell.”
Lando grabbed his luggage and bags from the trunk, his hands bringing it down smoothly to not ruin Charles’ most prized possession. He finally turned to look at the house in its glory—Wow. It was beautiful. It was a Roman Architecture Villa, the columns and red-hued colour palette highlighted its cultural connections. He couldn’t wait to set foot inside of the house.
“Are you coming, Lando?” Charles asked, confused.
Lando nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, Coming.”
***
The rooms were beautiful, as expected. Lando had a pretty grand room: his bed set in the middle, his nightstand and drawer all a lovely shade of white, the curtains a transparent cream colour, and the bathroom that led into another room even more marvelous. He felt kind of starstruck—this house felt like it was built out of a movie.
“It was built by my great-grandfather’s friend.” Charles had said. “I inherited it after my father passed.”
Lando felt the chill in Charles’ voice when he spoke about his father. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just one that was distant and hard to approach. Lando just nodded, feeling his tongue move to say, “It’s a beautiful house, Charles. Thanks for letting me stay here.”
Charles warmly smiled, “No problem. I’m gonna take a nap, I’ve been up all day finalising my client’s statements.”
They spent the rest of the day together, casually chatting at the table. Charles made it his mission to make their stay as pleasing as possible. Lando wasn’t shocked by it—Charles always went above and beyond to ensure everyone enjoyed things as much as he did.
It was great catching up with them. They felt familiar—They were familiar—Lando liked familiar. He listened as Charles and Alex bickered about their jobs, slamming their glasses of juice down when their rants began to get heated. Lando enjoyed it, leaning back to listen well.
“Lando, you’ve changed.” Charles shared. “You’ve gotten so quiet.”
Lando stretched out, “Really?”
“Yeah, I noticed that back in Amsterdam.” Alex agreed, sipping at his drink. “It’s not a bad thing.”
“It’s not?” Lando asked, cheeks flushed.
“Yeah. It just means you’re taking it all in, right?” Charles smiled.
Lando nodded and smiled back. Isn't it funny? Charles had gone into PR like he always wanted. Huh, even though things happened so dramatically, it feels like everything fell into place somehow—Lando is a nurse, Alex went into being an international journalist, and now Charles is the best Personal Relations Manager in Italy—So, yeah, it worked out; in its own funny little way.
***
“Where are you guys going?” Lando asked, eyes trained on Alex’s hand on the doorknob.
Charles smirked. “Oh, we have to meet a client down in the city. He’s our last one since Alex is being forced to take off work for his wedding from his boss, so, I thought he should be the first one to report what my client wanted to say.”
That was…oddly suspicious. Lando just hummed in response, his body fatigued from the airplane, and cooking the three of them a lavish meal of shrimp pasta (fancy, right?) “Alright. Be safe.”
“We will.” Alex nodded. “We’ll lock everything, okay?”
“Mkay.” Lando yawned, heading back towards his room.
***
Lando awoke to the sound of the door rustling and muttering outside. At first, he thought it was Alex and Charles’ trying to scare him, but after looking at their location, they were still at the bar downtown. Maybe it was an animal? No, they don’t have human voices. Lando finally felt the fear crawl up his spine, his instincts kicking immediately.
Lando grabbed a knife from the kitchen, holding it steadily in his palm. Lando shut his eyes, taking a breath before swinging the door open, his arm ready to move until he heard a gasp. Lando’s eyes opened quickly, blurry vision finally landing on a tall figure, eyes warmer than a summer day, mouth parted and eyebrows knitted together.
“Lando?” He called.
Lando felt his hold on the knife weaken, his eyes finally staring at the full face, the full picture of the man in front of him. Oh god, there he was—basking in the porch light’s yellow lighting, breath slightly hitched—Oscar Piastri.