Work Text:
If someone asked him, Oscar would never admit to the fact he watches Lando’s Youtube channel. Or his gaming channel.
But he does.
He has done so since they were launched - long before the idea of them being teammates even floated through Oscar’s mind. So listening to Max tell the camera that Lando only needs to be sat in one place, half-comfortable, for about a minute before he drops off - something that Max had mentioned previously, back when they were both at Renault - makes something in Oscar’s brain tick.
Because he’s seen it happen.
Lando sloping off after a meeting, or a practice session, only to turn up an hour or so later looking dishevelled, with clothing creases cut into his cheeks. It would be endearing if not for the fact that he seems to be hiding all the good napping spots from Oscar.
Self-proclaimed sleep enthusiast Oscar, who can never get more than ten minutes alone time for a nap before someone, usually Kim, comes into his room and disturbs him. There’s not even that many places to go that are quiet, so he doesn’t know how Lando even manages it.
It’s after one such occasion, when Lando drops into his seat opposite Oscar in the engineering room, blinking himself awake that Oscar finally cracks.
“Where do you go to nap without being disturbed?” Lando looks at him owlishly, all wide eyed and barely present, holding his headphones in his hands and running his fingers over the cord.
“I just sleep in my room,” he replies with a shrug, slipping his headphones on and effectively ending the conversation.
Oscar can’t help but just stare at him across the bank of monitors. Because he’s tried that, and napping on his massage table is a sure way to be disturbed. It doesn’t help that he’s seen Lando sleep in the main area of the hospitality also, unaware of what’s going on around him, but largely unbothered by people milling around.
Oscar is probably actually going to have to tell Kim to incorporate some nap time into his weekend schedule, even if the thought of asking his trainer for mandated nap time makes his skin crawl. He’s supposed to be able to make it through all the meetings and filming sessions, and he usually does, but an hours uninterrupted sleep on a day he’s been up early for media duties seems like an equivalent exchange.
“What?” Lando says, making Oscar realise that he’s still staring at Lando. “There’s nothing wrong with napping, Oscar.”
He looks almost offended, and if Oscar’s ever going to get Lando to share the other napping spots around the MTC, then he needs to backtrack fast.
“No, I love sleep,” Oscar replies. “Love to get some around here some day. That’s the problem though, isn’t it? Every time I shut my eyes someone needs me for something.”
Lando’s gaze is assessing, one headphone pulled back off his ear so that they can have the conversation without the rest of the team listening in over their headsets. Oscar appreciates the consideration. It’s something he probably wouldn’t have even thought about.
“You gotta get better at falling asleep, mate,” he says. “They’re so used to me sleeping in the seating area that they just work around me, and wake me up when I have to be somewhere.”
“And you sleep through the noise?”
Lando huffs out a laugh, shaking his head and lifting a hand to his ear, ready to put his headphones back on properly, ready to knuckle down to review his laps. “Mate. Being on the road all the time? You learn to sleep through anything.”
*
It keeps happening. Lando keeps disappearing for naps coming back looking refreshed, and Oscar keeps getting woken up by the team.
Every time he thinks he’s found a new good spot, like a quiet corner in the garage, or hidden behind his little couch on a stack of folded race suits, he’s shaken awake, or a noise makes him jolt with enough adrenaline to keep him awake for hours.
The only place that he’s not tried is Lando’s own room. The place where Lando has admitted that he doesn’t get disturbed. Lando’s off filming some Sky thing with George and Alex, and Oscar’s had just about enough of looking at his laptop screen that he takes the opportunity to slip away, saying that he left something in his room. Instead, he glances around to make sure nobody is watching, before deliberately opening the door to Lando’s room and stepping inside.
It’s decidedly neater than his own, although that’s not saying much. Other than that, they’re practically identical, aside from the addition of a very large beanbag that Oscar thinks will make the perfect spot for a nap. He toes his shoes off, mindful of the fact it’s not his, before he sinks gratefully into the beanbag that puffs up either side of his body.
It’s almost like he’s being hugged, and Oscar suddenly understands why Lando sneaks off to nap so much if this is what he’s coming to. He relaxes into it, wriggling slightly until the beans move around enough to give him a place to rest his head, not wanting to use Lando’s pillow that he can see on the end of the small couch. He thinks that’s probably a step too far.
Oscar can hear the general hum of people moving around along the corridor outside, but miraculously, nobody bothers sticking their head into Lando’s room looking for him. It settles him enough that when his eyes get heavy, he doesn’t fight it, nuzzling into the material under his head and catching a faint lingering scent of Lando’s cologne he’s come to recognise.
It doesn’t take much more than that for him to fall asleep.
He doesn’t even realise he was asleep, until Lando wakes him up barging into his own room, dropping his phone and water bottle onto the table with a clatter, before he stops himself, staring at Oscar.
For a long, agonising moment, he doesn’t say anything. Oscar’s still waiting for his brain to come online, so that he can apologise. To make amends for sneaking into Lando’s space. And then - “budge up.”
That’s all Lando says, before he strips himself of his hoodie and takes the three strides across the room. Oscar sits up, ready to get leave, but Lando stops him with a hand on top of his head, pushing him to lay back down.
“I didn’t say leave, I said budge up.”
Oscar does, and Lando sinks gratefully into the space that Oscar’s just made, the beans shifting around the pair of them so they end up squashed together in the middle, like a little cocoon.
“Lando?” Oscar asks quietly, as Lando shifts to get comfortable, and ends up tucked into Oscar’s side, clearly not bothered about the proximity to his teammate. “What are you doing?”
“Less talk, more naps,” Lando replies, punctuating his statement with a yawn. “You chose to sneak in here, now you have to suffer the consequences.”
The consequence appears to be Lando wrapping an arm over Oscar’s waist and using him as his personal teddy bear. In his defence, it is the best way to be comfortable in the small hollow of the beanbag, and Oscar can’t say he really minds the press of a warm body against his. Lando goes out like a light as well, his breath hot against the side of Oscar’s neck.
Oscar has so many questions, but he finds himself unconsciously matching his breathing to Lando’s own deep, steady breaths, and he drifts off again as well.
*
The worst part of it all, is Lando doesn’t even say anything afterwards. It was Jon who found them, poking his head in with Lando’s dinner, meeting Oscar’s eyes with a confused expression before he ducked out, returning a few minutes later with an extra plate and a very amused looking Kim trailing behind.
Oscar had given them a helpless look, unable to move with Lando still clinging to him like a limpet, unaware there was anyone in his room, until Jon gently placed his hand on Lando’s head, stroking through the curls a few times until Lando blinked himself awake, took in the fact he was cuddling Oscar, and then he sat up, taking his plate from Jon and never mentioning a thing.
It’s not until they’re both back in England, Lando for filming something with Quadrant, and Oscar just because that’s where he lives, that it comes up again. They both end up at the factory to give a debrief on the same day, when Lando follows Oscar out of the meeting room, catching hold of his hood and pulling him backwards until they fall into step.
“C’mon Osc,” Lando says, directing them towards his room. “Time to show you another nap spot.”
In the back of his head, Oscar knows that of course Lando has a preferred place to sleep when he’s at the factory. He’s been with the team since 2017. If there hadn’t been somewhere then, when he was barely seventeen, then it would make sense that he would have carved out a little space over the years.
The space, as it turns out, is a circular cuddle chair that takes up a solid third of Lando’s office. It looks ridiculously comfortable,with a fluffy blanket half thrown over the back of it, and several cushions at the back of the seat.
“Lando, this is your office,” Oscar says, well aware of the fact he’s stating the obvious.
“Yes, Oscar. And it’s also nap time.”
Oscar can’t argue with that, not with the way that Lando steers him by the shoulders across the space, and pushes him to sit on the chair. His initial assessment had been right, the chair is comfortable, and Oscar shuffles backwards on the seat to make space for Lando.
The unconscious action isn’t lost on either of them, with Lando raising one eyebrow before he shrugs, kneeling on the seat before flopping face first into Oscar’s chest. Oscar grunts as the wind is knocked out of him, but Lando pays him no mind, arranging both Oscar and himself before he grabs the blanket from the back of the chair and burrows under it.
“Nap time?” Oscar asks, even though he’s not moved from where Lando positioned him, flat on his back with one arm underneath Lando’s body.
“Mmm hm,” Lando agrees. “Sure you’ve heard of it, Osc. You keep talking about how much you wish Kim would let you sleep, so here you are, and all you’re doing is complaining.”
It comes out half muffled, Lando’s face buried in the material of Oscar’s hoodie that he wishes he’d had the foresight to remove before Lando had pinned him, but it seems like being too warm is future Oscar’s problem now.
“Okay, Lan,” Oscar says, the nickname feeling unfamiliar on his tongue. Before he can settle though, Lando’s hair is tickling his chin, so Oscar reaches up to smooth it back, although part of it is also an excuse to bury his hand in Lando’s curls the way he’s been thinking about for months.
Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.
He’d only planned on doing it once, pushing Lando’s hair away from his skin, but then Lando hums so appreciatively, his arm tightening over Oscar’s waist, that Oscar repeats the motion, this time scratching his nails lightly against Lando’s scalp.
He doesn’t know why he does it, other than the fact that Lando seems to enjoy it, if the way he nuzzles closer to Oscar’s body is any indication. Maybe it’s another one of the consequences that Lando had mentioned the last time they’d napped together.
But if it gets him an hour or so of relatively undisturbed rest between meetings, then Oscar will gladly learn everything he can about giving Lando the best head massages.
*
It’s Jon who walks in on them again, seemingly used to the fact that Lando will have sloped off to hide from his responsibilities. Oscar cracks an eye when the door opens, meeting Jon’s knowing look with a small smile and a half shrug.
Lando whines at the movement in his sleep, and tightens the hold he has on Oscar’s waist without opening his eyes.
“He’s always like that when he has to wake up,” Jon says quietly, mindful of the fact that Lando is doing his best to pretend to still be asleep. “Hates an alarm clock. Prefers to wake up slowly.”
Oscar remembers how Jon had woken Lando last time, and curls his arm to reach Lando’s head, stroking the curls again like he had before they both fell asleep.
“No,” Lando mumbles, rolling on top of Oscar almost fully, pinning him to the chair by remaining deadweight.
“Come on, buddy,” Jon says, crossing the room and getting ready to pull the blanket from where it lays over Lando’s waist. “Interview in fifteen minutes and I know for a fact you’ve got to see the team to have something done with your hair.”
Oscar looks at Jon guiltily, removing his hand from where he had been continuing to scratch at Lando’s head. Jon smiles and shrugs, gesturing for Oscar to continue. It feels weird to be caught out by Jon for a second time like this, even though Jon doesn’t seem to care.
Like he’s seen it all before, which, given Lando’s tendencies, he probably has. Carlos strikes him as a bit of a cuddler.
“Osc can do it,” Lando says, although he doesn’t make any move to let Oscar go. “I’ve done enough.”
“Oscar’s coming too,” Jon says placatingly. “But you gotta let him up first mate. He looks like he’s lost a fight with a kangaroo with his hairstyle.”
Oscar’s mildly offended that they’re talking about him like he’s not there, but Jon’s observation does get Lando to sit up, the blanket pooling at his waist as he passes a hand over his face. Despite his reluctance to get up, he does seem reasonably alert for someone who’s just woken up. It was the same the last time, and it’s a talent Oscar wishes he possessed.
“Am I meant to be at this interview?” Oscar asks Jon, trying to think about whether he’s got anything else on his schedule. His mind’s a little all over the place considering the way that Lando had stolen him away after their meeting, but he’s pretty sure he’s not got anything else.
Jon confirms it with a shake of his head while Lando’s not looking. It seems like it’s another patented ‘get Lando up from his nap’ trick, and Oscar can’t believe he almost believed it.
*
It happens again.
And again.
And then it keeps on happening. At least once per race weekend, usually on media day between filming in the morning and their press appearances in the afternoon, Lando will find Oscar wherever he is in the garage and just insert himself into Oscar’s space.
Sometimes he will tug Oscar’s arm, getting him to follow him to his room and the beanbag that Oscar swears is bigger than the first time he napped on it. Other times, Lando will steer them to the couch seating in the hospitality lounge with his tablet tucked under his arm like they’re actually going to do work.
Inevitably, Lando will fall asleep, and Oscar will follow shortly after. Surprisingly, Oscar finds himself getting disturbed less and less when he naps with Lando. Some of it is the fact that Kim will know where he is, and only come and get him when he’s due for a training session, and the other part is -
Oscar’s never slept as well as he does with Lando pressed up against him. Either on his chest, or tucked up behind him with his nose buried in the hairs at the nape of Oscar’s neck. Or, on one memorable occasion when Oscar had been laying on the couch first, Lando had sat himself in the crook of Oscar’s knees with his own legs thrown over the top, twisting his torso in a very awkward angle that Jon had bemoaned about.
“Can you at least make sure he doesn’t fuck up his back?” Jon had asked.
“I was already asleep and he just came in like that!” Oscar had replied. “If he thinks it’s comfortable that’s his problem.”
It didn’t stop Oscar from making an effort afterwards to make sure Lando always had enough space to stretch out properly though. Jon’s approving look was worth it the next time they napped, though.
*
Sometimes though, Lando will lay down first, pulling Oscar by his biceps until he puts most of his weight on top of him. Out of all of the positions they nap in, it’s probably Oscar’s favourite. He likes the way that Lando’s arm curls around him, and his hand rests in the small of his back. It feels secure, like even if someone were to want to disturb them, Lando wouldn’t let them.
It also feels like Oscar is getting more and more out of his depth with the familiarity of sleeping with Lando. That he struggles now to sleep when he’s not curled up with his teammate. Kim blames the fact that he naps late in the afternoon, but it’s more than that.
Oscar sleeps better with the soft, warm scent of Lando, and there’s no reason why Lando would ever want to be curled up in his bed for real. The fact he doesn’t sleep at night gives him more of an excuse to nap in the afternoons with Lando.
Lando, who upon realising that Oscar is overthinking and therefore not going to make a good napping buddy, smooths Oscar’s hair flat and rests his cheek on the top of his head.
“Stop thinking so loud,” he says, running the hand he has on Oscar’s back up and down a few times, heaving out a sigh. “It’s nap time.”
Oscar matches his breathing to Lando’s, his nose tucked into the gap around the collar of Lando’s shirt. He can feel Lando’s heartbeat in his chest, the steady rhythm calming him as he tries to empty his head enough to fall asleep.
“There you go,” Lando murmurs. Oscar can feel the movement of Lando’s lips against the top of his head as he speaks, before, with an uptick of Lando’s heartbeat, they’re followed by a kiss.
It would have been easy to miss, were Oscar any less alert, but not only does Lando’s heart rate pick up slightly, but his breathing hitches just once, like he realises what he’s just done. Oscar doesn’t mind it, but he doesn’t want to break the moment either.
Instead, he nuzzles Lando’s neck again, his nose catching on the small patch of stubble at the back of Lando’s jaw he clearly missed when shaving, before he places a barely there kiss against Lando’s skin.
Like the way Lando’s kiss on his head would have been easy to miss, Oscar knows he can play off his own as him just getting comfortable, but the content hum that Lando lets out, and the way his breathing evens out and deepens is enough. It lets him know that neither of them should be worried about the other.
*
As per Lando’s track record, they don’t talk about it. Oscar half thinks that he might have made the whole interaction up, if not for the way that he sometimes catches Lando staring at him over the bank of monitors in the garage with a pensive look on his face.
Like he wants to say something but just doesn’t know how to bring it up.
In the end he just doesn’t, but he does become more affectionate in general. Putting his hand on Oscar’s waist when he passes him. Lingering touches when he passes him things to sign when they’re sitting pressed shoulder to shoulder in one of the side rooms in their media centre. Tucking his face completely against Oscar’s neck when they’re napping, his breath fanning over Oscar’s exposed skin.
It’s making Oscar insane.
The way he’s so deliberate, but still avoiding the fact that it’s something that happened. That he kissed Oscar’s head, and Oscar kissed his neck in return.
Until the next time that Lando pulls Oscar on top of him to nap, something he’s not done since the kiss. He’s been avoiding the position, even though it’s Oscar’s favourite, not that Lando would know that.
But when Lando sidles up behind Oscar in the garage and wraps his hands around Oscar’s waist, pulling him away from the screen he’s been standing in front of but not really looking at, Oscar knows that they have to talk about it. That he can’t go on ignoring the fact that he might actually want to kiss Lando again.
“Lando,” Oscar begins, tapping his fingers against Lando’s chest where he has his head resting directly over Lando’s heart. He can hear the steady beating, and keeps rhythm with it with his fingers.
“Yeah?” Lando replies, seemingly on the cusp of falling asleep. Oscar has to give himself a mental pep talk to get out what he wants to say.
“You know the last time we napped like this?” Oscar can hear Lando’s heart falter in its rhythm for a moment, because now his tapping is out of sync. He stops his fingers, pressing them into the muscle of Lando’s chest. “I liked it.”
It’s plausible that he’s just talking about the way Lando’s holding him. But Lando turns his head above Oscar, his hair rustling against the cover of the beanbag that Oscar now knows for sure is a different one than the first time.
“Liked what?” Lando presses, stretching his neck downwards, his muscles shifting under Oscar’s head.
Oscar breathes in. Breathes out.
“When you kissed me.”
Lando’s hand moves next, cupping the side of Oscar’s face, his fingers hooking under Oscar’s chin and tilting it upwards. His expression is sleepy, but his eyes are alert, looking over Oscar’s face for any sign of hesitation.
“I’ll bear that in mind,” he says, leaning forwards to close the last few inches of space between them, and planting a chaste kiss on Oscar’s lips. It’s less than a second, a barely there press of chapped skin against smooth, before he pulls away. “Goodnight, Osc.”
Oscar stays where he is for a moment, looking down at Lando who has sunk back into the beanbag, watching for Oscar’s next move. Oscar smiles, a soft thing, and he knows he’s blushing when he kisses Lando back, another peck that lingers for a few seconds, before he tucks himself back on Lando’s chest.
“G’night, Lan.”
*
When Jon wakes them, Lando waves him off, saying they’ll be out in a minute. Oscar appreciates it, his mind running as fast as his car at the fact that Lando had kissed him, and he’d kissed Lando back.
“Hey,” Lando greets him sleepily, when the door has closed behind Jon with a quiet click.
“G’mornin’,” Oscar replies, resting his chin on Lando’s chest as he gives himself a few moments more to enjoy the soft warmth of Lando’s embrace. Oscar knows they have somewhere to be, knows that Jon or Kim will be back for them to get them warmed up again for the second practice session, but he still wants to take every moment he can get.
Every moment Lando lets him have.
“One-two, yeah?” Lando says, and it’s so much like him to already be thinking of what comes next, of what they have coming up, that Oscar huffs out a laugh, raising himself on his palms to hover awkwardly above Lando, who reaches out to tuck the loose curl of Oscar’s fringe off his forehead.
His face is open, expression soft, and Oscar knows that even though he’s not talking about it, Lando will be with him for every goodnight kiss, and nap along the way.