Chapter Text
Lando is warm. His scent is crowding Oscar’s hotel room, sticks like it belongs there. There’s the smallest space between them, and all Oscar can think about it closing it and rubbing himself all over his teammate. To make their room smell like a delicious bakery, spicy chocolate mixed with vanilla, pastries and the slightest bit of lemon and mint.
The scent of Lando’s slick, tart and alluring, is old. It clings to the sheets, to Oscar, but no longer blooms. Oscar is glad that the heat has passed in such a short time, as often happens with first heats or so his sisters told him, but there’s an ache of loss coming with it as well.
He won’t get last night out of his mind, probably never will. The way Lando-well. Just Lando. Nothing could have prepared him for what has happened, what Lando allowed him to witness, to give.
He wants to enjoy the moment before it is over. Before they go back to their ways, trading polite ‘hellos’ in the hallways and a singular good-luck fist-bump before a race. He can’t bare the thought of eventually letting go of Lando, but knows that he has no right to keep him.
Lando is still asleep in his bed, breathing deep. His skin glows, curls splayed out on the pillow like a halo, and his heart-shaped mouth begs to be kisses. He looks like everything Oscar has always wished for.
They haven’t kissed. Not once. Haven’t spoken about it either, like a forbidden fruit not to be eaten, not to be mentioned. For Oscar it is, he knows that once he kisses Lando, there will be no going back.
As if he isn’t in too deep already. He’ll give Lando the world if he’d ask for it.
With all the softness he can find, he brushes a lost curl away from Lando’s face. He’s in love, has been for a while now. And his scent betrays him with every move. Yes, he does thinks it’s incredibly rude to not use patches and blast his Alpha pheromones all around the track, but he’s been awfully tight with it the past year. More so than he was before falling head over heels for his teammate. Under no circumstances has he forgotten to put a patch on, has been keeping his scent locked away as much as he can bear, for he’s afraid of what will happen if Lando smells him. Smells his longing and will understand.
Oscar is fine, you know, admiring from afar. No, correction, he had been fine. And then Lando presented. There are no words to describe the fear Oscar felt when he smelled the sweet scent of pastries, vanilla and lemon. Being surprised by a heat on paddock grounds filled with Alphas, one of the most dangerous things that could happen to an Omega.
He’d never admit to conspiring about Lando’s second gender, yet he might have let his mind wander about it. Not that he’d gotten far, it had been a hard thing to take a guess on. Most drivers on the grid, aside from the obvious Alphas, aren’t very forthcoming with their designation. But then there hadn’t been doubt, the sweetness truest it could be.
And Lando had told him that he was presenting. That this was his first heat. Right after a win, crowds of people surrounding them, and Oscar had been able to smell his slick. It took everything he had to keep himself focussed and get Lando out of there safely.
His body had rebelled against the suppression of his scent, his Alpha pheromones going wild. If he hadn’t been wearing the patches, there would have been fights between him and every single other Alpha on track who dared to even look at Lando.
Certainly so when Charles had sneakily suggested that Oscar could help Lando through his heat. He’d wanted to toss Lando over his shoulder and hide him in his drivers room.
But the thing that most Alphas teased him over, the cool, calm and collected thing, had saved them. Had made it so that Lando could trust someone with his vulnerable first heat, who would protect him.
And now here they are. The following morning, cuddled up in the messy nest Lando made. Oscar is still just as afraid as he’d been yesterday out on the track, the fear of possibly losing Lando ice cold in his veins.
It tears through him, leaving ragged edges and bleeding feelings. Oscar is usually not too bad with pain, but this is a kind he doesn’t want to endure, not when the solution is laying next to him. He sighs and closes the feared distance between them. A rumble leaves him as he plasters himself against Lando, one that means ‘mine’, and ‘don’t let me go’.
In his sleep, Lando answers by burying his nose into Oscar’s chest.
Everything is wrong about it, for Oscar knows it’s not real. One night, one heat. And Lando will vanish into someone else’s arms, disappearing. Lando doesn’t love him back the same way.
“Hmm, why do you smell so bitter?”
Oh fuck.
When Oscar looks down, Lando blinks up at him sleepily. His curls point at every direction possible and he still wears that satisfied post-sex expression. Oscar really wants to kiss him.
“Osc?” Lando croaks.
“I am sorry,” he says. There’s nothing else to say.
Lando’s lemon-sharp scent joins his, even though he moves closer to Oscar. “Why?”
The confusion and betrayal tastes like ash on Oscar’s tongue and he tells himself he deserves it. “That you didn’t have another choice but me. That I’ve ruined-”
“You did not ruin anything.” Lando’s nails dig into his skin as he grabs Oscar’s wrist. “I don’t know what happened in your thoughts while I was asleep, but I can assure you that it’s not true.”
He sounds angry, and a little sad.
“You’re always so calm,” he whispers, “I should be the one freaking out.”
Oscar chuckles wetly, surprised at the sudden tears in his eyes. He can carry a lot, pain, disappointment, loneliness, but he’s never been able to pretend loss doesn’t hurt him.
“Oscar, you did everything that I could’ve wished for.”
That’s wonderful to hear, at least he hasn’t failed at that.
In a bout of honesty, words that he hadn’t meant to say slip out. “And now it’s over.”
The silence crackles between them.
But then- “Osc.” Sweet vanilla floods the room, brings Oscar back from the dark thoughts he’s been getting caught in.
“I-It’s over now, Lan.” Oscar’s voice breaks, exposes him for all of Lando to see. The shell of composure falls off him, leaving behind a desperate, lovesick fool of a man.
Lando shakes his head. “Nah.”
Confusion strikes. “Wha- Yes, it is. You don’t smell like heat anymore.”
“You know, now that you’re not wearing patches, you can’t hide either, Osc. You don’t want this to be over. So don’t let it.”
The room around them disappears until there’s only Lando. Lando, Lando, Lando. And the possibility of maybe keeping him.
Last night, Oscar had been surprised that he’d not felt the need to claim, to bite, only to protect. Even when Lando’s teeth scraped his neck, he couldn’t imagine succumbing to his instincts. If saying no to the part of him that told him he should mate Lando meant that he’d spend a second longer in the presence of him, he’d do it.
He’d do anything for his mate. Teammate, damnit.
But now, without the overwhelming scents, without the urging of heat, without their shared fear, Lando’s placed something on the table that Oscar has dreamed about. To not stop whatever they’re doing. And for the first time, Oscar’s instincts tell him that Lando is his, that he is Lando’s.
The fear he’s been carrying for so long dissolves between the confessions of scents.
“We didn’t kiss last night.”
That’s not what he meant to say at all, too direct, not soft enough. Lando blushes and hides in the crook of Oscar’s armpit.
“Erm, no. We didn’t,” he mumbles against skin.
“Would you like to?”
It slips out, consequences be damned. If there’s even a possibility of having more, Oscar will grab onto it and never let go.
Joy takes a flight in Oscar’s heart when Lando nods.
“And would that mean anything?”
Another nod.
Oscar’s breath stokes and he wraps his arms around Lando tightly, hugging him. Heat grows between them, unbearable and brittle, and Lando sighs into it. “I’ve always looked at you, Osc. Couldn’t help myself.”
That’s as much of a confession Oscar needs to be sure. “Me too. Blinded me like the sun when we first met.”
Lando giggles softly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I-I was scared. Of losing whatever we had. Of you not wanting me.” Oscar shivers, his ribcage creaking under the honesty of his feelings. “Of you not wanting an Alpha like me. I’m not like, you know, Max. Or Carlos.” He’s too gentle, too soft, too kind. He smells like freaking chocolate, of all things.
“Well, I don’t want Max or Carlos,” Lando whispers, “I want you.”
“Oh.”
Tiny kisses set his senses alight as Lando presses his mouth to Oscar’s skin. “I love you, not what you presented as.”
The words burn their way to Oscar’s heart and make a home there. He stops thinking.
Holyfuckholyfuckholyfuck. He said love. Lando said he loves him. Inside his head, Oscar is shrieking with excitement and hope.
“Oh. Like, same. Obviously.”
Lando stops kissing him, even unwraps himself from the hug to look at him. He scrunches up his nose. “You can do better than that.”
And he’s right. Oscar has known for a long time about the words that want to slip out when he so much as looks at his teammate. He’s just locked them up in airtight boxes whenever they threatened to surface. But not anymore. There’s a risk to take, and he gladly does so.
“I love you too. I love you like the moon loves the sun, aching for even a glimpse of you, not existing without you near. I want to hold you close to my chest, like one holds a flower, like one cherishes treasure. I cannot imagine a world without you next to me. My heart is yours, do with it as you please.”
There it is, his heart beating in the palm of his hand, vulnerable and ready to be stolen. Lando reaches out.
“That-that certainly is better. Wow. Never knew you were a poet, Oscar. It’s the name, isn’t it?” And he takes Oscar’s heart, replaces it with his own. It hums between them; Just be careful with it.
Oscar nods wordlessly and wants to kiss Lando. Maybe he can, right? A hesitant kiss ends up tangled in Lando’s curls, another one hides behind his ear. But Oscar grows bolder, daring to leave them on Lando’s forehead, on his cheeks and a tiny one on his nose. Lando giggles when he does. The corner of his mouth takes one off Oscar’s lips as well, until Lando huffs and gives it back, lips locking on Oscar’s. He tastes just as sweet as his scent and Oscar kisses and kisses and kisses.
They push and pull against each other, toeing the line, but don’t go any further than that.
“Osc,” Lando gasps, “Can you scent me again? I really liked that last night, wanna-wanna smell like us.”
The moan that slips out surprises Oscar, clearly he’d like that very much too.
“Yeah, Okay.”
And he doesn’t waste a second, already crowding Lando’s body with his own, pressing him into the mattress. The sudden scent of slick hits him as he breathes Lando in. It’s nothing like the slick from his heat, this is lighter, less demanding. But just as sweet.
“Fuck, Lan. You are so-”
Lando giggles, he looks amused. “Do I look like yours?” he dares to question. Any other Alpha would’ve pounced, would’ve bitten Lando, would’ve done anything to make him his. Oscar just smiles, takes a moment to truly look, and then lets his scent deepen. Lando, with dark bruises sucked into his skin, curls a mess on top of his head, blush rising on his cheeks, looks indeed like Oscar’s.
“Yeah,” he breathes. It’s satisfying to see Lando at a loss for words for once. He bends over Lando, nosing the side of his neck. “Gonna make you smell like mine too.”
Lando whines, slides his hands into Oscar’s hair and grips it firmly, tugging him closer. “Please,” he says, “Don’t make me wait.”
And who is Oscar do refuse such a lovely plea? Kissing and nipping softly at heated skin, he reaches Lando’s scentglands and breathes in deep. Pasties flake on his tongue, sweet vanilla makes him float. He adores Lando’s scent.
Rubbing his own glands against Lando’s, chocolate mixes gently with vanilla and Lando purrs loudly into his ear. It’s a wonderful sound, open and honest, and Oscar finds himself answering with a rumble just as loud.
“Mine,” he whispers reverently, and then- “Would you like to be one day?”
Lando buries his face in Oscar’s neck, scent heavy with the heat of the question. His teeth are a promise on Oscar’s skin as he smiles. “Obviously, Osc.”