Chapter Text
Chapter 1:
An introduction, perhaps?
The lecture hall was almost empty.
Only a handful of students had filtered in this early, scattered across the rows in little islands of conversation while the morning rain pattered softly against the tall windows. It smelled faintly of coffee, damp coats, and fresh notebooks.
Lando much preferred it before everyone arrived.
It was quieter.
He was perched backwards on one of the chairs in the second row, arms folded over the backrest as he balanced carelessly on two legs, watching Carlos animatedly wave his hands around.
"I'm telling you," Carlos insisted, "if I fail this semester, it'll be entirely the university's fault."
Charles didn't even glance up from the timetable he'd been reorganising for the third time.
"We haven't had the first class yet."
"Exactly."
Carlos pointed at him dramatically.
"They've already stressed me out."
Lando nodded solemnly.
"I think that's grounds for compensation."
"THANK YOU."
"They should pay you."
"Exactly!"
Charles sighed.
"You two are exhausting."
Lando grinned.
"We've been awake for, like, forty minutes."
"And somehow you've already managed to become exhausting."
"I'm efficient."
The classroom door swung open.
George stumbled through it first. His backpack looked seconds away from exploding. Folders poked from one zip. Pens stuck out another. Something metallic clattered loudly against the floor.
George looked down.
"I meant to do that."
"You packed the entire engineering building?" Lando asked.
George shrugged, slinging the bag back onto his shoulder.
"You never know."
"Pretty sure I do."
Before George could answer, Alex followed him inside, somehow managing to hold a cardboard tray balancing six coffees.
"I come bearing gifts."
Carlos was on his feet before Alex had finished speaking.
"My hero."
"They're all labelled," Alex warned.
Carlos immediately picked one up anyway.
"This one's definitely mine."
Alex stared at him.
"It literally says Alex."
Carlos looked down.
"Close enough."
Lando laughed, accepting the cup Alex handed him.
"You spoil us."
"I spoil myself," Alex corrected. "You lot are just convenient excuses."
George accepted his coffee with a grateful nod before immediately trying to balance it on top of his already overflowing backpack.
It tipped.
Alex caught it before it hit the floor.
"I've known you for five minutes today," Alex muttered, "and you're already giving me a headache."
"I missed you too."
The room settled back into its easy rhythm.
Carlos complaining. George insisting he'd packed perfectly reasonably. Alex disagreeing.
Charles quietly fixing George's timetable after he'd somehow managed to print last year's.
It felt... normal, as if they'd never left.
The door opened once more. This time, nobody spoke.
Max stepped inside with his hood pulled low despite the warmth of the room.
His backpack hung from one shoulder. There was a fading bruise blooming beneath one eye where the hood had slipped just enough.
Lando noticed it immediately. He didn't say anything, just watched as Max dropped into the chair beside Charles with the tired sort of sigh that only came from mornings that had started far too early.
Charles glanced over. His eyes flickered briefly to the bruise. Then he looked back down at the notebook spread between them.
Without a word, he nudged it towards Max.
"I got stuck on number four."
Max blinked.
"You've already started?"
"I was bored."
A beat. Max leaned closer, their heads naturally ending up over the same page. He uncapped a pen.
"No, look."
He scribbled something in the margin.
"If you move this here," Charles frowned thoughtfully. "Oh."
Lando sipped his coffee. George had somehow started folding the wrapper from his straw into what looked suspiciously like another paper aeroplane. Alex hadn't noticed yet. Probably because Carlos had launched into another speech.
"I'm serious," Carlos declared. "Summer should've been at least another month."
"It was three months," Charles said absently.
"Too short."
"You said after two weeks you were bored."
"I changed my mind."
Lando snorted.
"You don't get to rewrite history."
"I absolutely do."
"You literally texted me—"
"I don't recall that."
"You said, and I quote, 'If I have to look at one more wall in my room, I'm going to start naming the bricks.'"
George burst out laughing. Alex finally noticed the paper aeroplane.
"George."
"What?"
"No."
"I haven't done anything."
"You've made a weapon."
"It's an aeroplane."
"It becomes a weapon the second it leaves your hand."
George considered that.
"Fair."
The conversation carried on around them, overlapping into comfortable chaos.
Lando glanced back towards Max. The corner of Max's mouth had lifted.
Lando's eyes widened. He shot to his feet so suddenly his chair scraped loudly across the floor.
"He smiled!"
Every head turned.
Max immediately dropped his face into one hand.
"No, I didn't."
"You smiled!"
"I twitched."
"It counts!"
George pointed dramatically.
"I saw it too."
Carlos clapped once.
"We're witnessing history!"
Even Charles was trying — and failing — not to smile. Max groaned.
"I hate all of you."
The classroom door opened. Silence. Professor Vettle stood in the doorway, one eyebrow already raised.
Lando was still standing, halfway through celebrating. He slowly lowered himself back into his chair.
"Morning, sir."
Professor Vettle looked at him for a long moment.
"Mr. Norris."
"Sir."
"It's eight o'clock."
"I know."
"I can tell."
A few quiet laughs rippled through the room. The professor sighed with what sounded suspiciously like long practised resignation.
"Please try to survive the first lecture before causing a disturbance."
"I'll do my best."
"I somehow doubt that."
Lando offered his most innocent smile.
It didn't fool either of them.
Lando had been alone at campus for the last three months. He’d come here straight after his twelvth year at school had ended. Escaped Silverstone and the memories it held.
London was definitely a lot busier but he’d made himself home long before the incoming first year students while being one himself.
He’d made himself familiar with the staff, his professors, by hanging out in the library all day and practically learning the entire term before it ever actually began. Of course this helped with other things as well… other things he had to keep secret. However, his professors were more sick of him than ever.
Professor Vettle set his worn leather satchel down on the desk at the front of the lecture hall, fishing a stack of papers from inside.
"Now then—"
The door burst open.
Every head turned.
A brunette stood in the doorway, slightly out of breath, one backpack strap hanging halfway off his shoulder.
"Sorry," he blurted immediately. "Sorry, I—"
His accent caught Lando's attention before anything else. Australian. The guy glanced around the lecture hall like he'd walked into the wrong room entirely.
"Is this Mechanical Engineering?"
Professor Vettle looked over the rim of his glasses.
"It is."
"Oh."
A beat.
"Good."
The room let out a few amused chuckles.
The brunette hurried down the steps between the rows, muttering another quiet apology to seemingly anyone within earshot.
Lando watched him for exactly one second longer than necessary.
There was still a folded campus map sticking out of one pocket. Poor bloke probably hadn't figured out where anything was yet.
He'd almost made it to an empty seat when one of the folders tucked beneath his arm slipped. Then another. Loose papers exploded across the floor.
"Oh, for—"
He crouched immediately, scrambling after them before they could slide beneath the rows of seats.
Someone else reached them first. A blond guy Lando vaguely recognised from orientation dropped into a crouch without hesitation, gathering the scattered sheets into a neat pile.
"You always do things dramatically?" he asked.
Oscar groaned.
"I was hoping nobody saw that."
"I've got bad news."
Oscar accepted the papers with a defeated sigh.
"Cheers."
"No worries."
The blond stood, jerking his head towards the row beside him.
"C'mon."
Oscar followed with all the enthusiasm of someone walking towards his own execution.
As they squeezed into the seats, Lando caught another muttered apology.
The blond waved it away like he'd already heard enough of them for one morning.
Lando found himself still watching.
Brown hair, probably around his age, Australian. Awkward enough that he looked like he'd quite happily let the floor open up beneath him.
His notebook was already covered in tiny, ridiculously neat handwriting despite the lecture not having even started.
Definitely a nerd.
"Mr. Norris."
Lando blinked.
"Hm?"
Professor Vettle was looking directly at him.
"I do hope my lecture is at least slightly more interesting than our new students."
A few people laughed. Heat crept into Lando's cheeks before he even realised he'd been caught staring.
"Sorry, sir."
Professor Vettle gave a small nod before turning back to the whiteboard.
Lando dragged his eyes away. Weird. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd looked for so long in the first place.
Professor Vettel cleared his throat, setting the attendance sheet on the desk.
"Right then. Since about half of you have never met each other before, we'll start with something simple."
A collective groan travelled around the lecture hall.
"Yes, yes, I know," he said dryly. "Name, age, and one thing you did over the summer. I'd like to know who I'm teaching before I start failing you."
That earned a few laughs.
He gestured towards the front row.
"We'll go this way."
Introductions filtered around the room. People talked about family holidays in Spain, camping trips, jobs they'd worked over summer, visiting grandparents.
One student proudly announced he'd learned to surf. Another admitted he'd mostly slept.
Eventually Professor Vettel glanced towards the second row.
"Mr. Norris."
Lando looked up from absentmindedly spinning his pen.
"Hm?"
"Let's hear it."
"Lando. Eighteen."
He paused.
"I studied."
Professor Vettel looked at him for a long second.
"That's all?"
Lando nodded.
"Pretty much."
"You were here all summer."
"I was."
"No family holidays, no trips home?"
"Nope."
Professor Vettel folded his arms.
"You really expect me to believe you willingly spent three months inside the engineering building?"
Lando shrugged easily.
"I'm a big fan of studying."
A snort escaped George.
Carlos barked out a laugh.
"He's lying," Carlos announced. "He's also a big fan of annoying me."
"I multitask."
Professor Vettel shook his head with the sort of fond exasperation reserved for students he'd already given up trying to understand.
"I believe the librarians know you by first name at this point."
"They started saying good morning before I'd even scanned my student card."
"I wonder why."
A ripple of laughter spread through the room. Professor Vettel smiled despite himself before his gaze shifted to the unfamiliar face a few seats over.
"And our late arrival."
Oscar looked up so quickly he nearly dropped his pen again.
"Oh."
He cleared his throat.
"Uh Oscar."
A brief pause.
"I'm almost eighteen."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I'm from Australia."
Someone gave a quiet whistle from the back.
"Took a pretty long flight."
"What'd you do over the summer?"
"I stayed home with my family."
His smile softened almost imperceptibly.
"Then flew over yesterday."
Professor Vettel nodded.
"First time in the UK?"
"Yeah."
"Well, welcome."
A few students murmured their agreement.
Oscar ducked his head in a quiet thanks before sitting back down. Lando found himself glancing over again. Yesterday. That explained the map.
And why he'd looked like he'd rather disappear into the floor than introduce himself to fifty strangers.
Fair enough.
He'd probably have felt the same.
The rest of the lecture passed surprisingly quickly.
Professor Vettel spent most of it walking them through the module, pointing out deadlines that felt impossibly far away and textbooks that somehow each managed to cost more than Lando's weekly grocery shop.
By the end of the hour, he'd already filled three whiteboards.
Carlos looked vaguely horrified.
"So..." he muttered as everyone began packing up. "We're dropping out?"
George nodded thoughtfully.
"I'll start looking for jobs."
"You weren't looking before?"
"No."
"Fair."
Lando shoved his notebook into his bag with a laugh.
"It'll be fine."
Charles looked up from rereading the syllabus.
"There are nine assignments."
"There are."
"And four lab reports."
"There are."
Carlos stared at Lando.
"How are you so calm?"
"I've accepted my fate."
"You are fate."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
The lecture hall emptied into the corridor in a slow stream of students.
Conversations echoed off the brick walls, people splitting off towards different buildings or lingering outside classrooms they'd only just learned the names of.
Lando had barely made it three steps before George stopped dead.
"Hang on."
The rest of them instinctively stopped too.
"What?" Alex asked.
"I think we're going the wrong way."
"We literally came from this direction," Max said.
"I know, but—"
George unfolded a campus map.
Upside down.
Alex sighed.
"Oh, brilliant."
Before anyone could rescue it from him, George turned sharply and nearly walked straight into someone.
"Oh—"
Papers shifted awkwardly between Oscar's arms as he stumbled back a step.
"Sorry," he said immediately.
"That was my fault," George replied at exactly the same time.
They both paused.
"Sorry," they said again together.
Carlos snorted.
"This is painful."
Logan, standing beside Oscar, laughed.
"I've met him for the first time in person."
He jerked a thumb towards Oscar.
"He's apologized at least fifty times."
Oscar looked mildly offended.
"I have not."
"You apologized for apologizing earlier."
"Right."
A beat.
"Sorry."
That got a laugh out of nearly everyone.
Lando smiled despite himself.
"You're settling into England pretty quickly."
Oscar looked up.
"What?"
"The apologising."
Oscar rolled his eyes.
"I do not apologise that much."
"You've apologised three times since we stopped walking."
"Have I?"
"You have."
"Huh."
For a second, nobody spoke. It wasn't awkward, only that strange pause where nobody was quite sure whether the conversation was over.
Lando glanced down at the timetable sticking out of George's folder. Then back towards Oscar and Logan.
"You two heading back already?"
Logan shrugged.
"Thought we'd unpack."
"You could."
Lando slung his backpack over one shoulder.
"Or..."
He nodded down the corridor.
"We're going to the library."
Carlos groaned dramatically.
"We literally just escaped class."
"We're getting ahead."
"We're ruining perfectly good freedom."
Alex ignored him.
Lando looked back at Oscar.
"Come with us."
Oscar blinked.
"To study?"
"Bit early to call it studying."
George grinned.
"We're mostly pretending."
"We've got about fourty-right hours before we start drowning," Carlos added. "Might as well enjoy the shallow end."
Oscar looked towards Logan.
Logan shrugged.
"I mean..."
He glanced at the stack of notes tucked under Oscar's arm.
"You were going to make us study anyway."
"I was not."
"You absolutely were."
Oscar sighed.
"Fine."
Lando smiled.
"Brilliant."
He turned on his heel, already heading down the corridor.
"C'mon then."
The others followed without another word, slipping into the kind of easy formation that only happened when nobody had to think about where they belonged.
Oscar fell into step beside Logan near the back of the group. Still new. Still quietly taking everything in. Somehow, without anyone really deciding it there were eight of them walking to the library instead of six.
The library was quieter than the lecture hall, filled with the steady rustle of turning pages and hushed conversations drifting between the shelves.
They'd claimed a table tucked away in the back corner almost immediately.
George had spread his notes across nearly half of it.
Alex was unsuccessfully attempting to reclaim some space.
Carlos had declared studying "a crime against humanity" three minutes after sitting down.
Logan had somehow been dragged into listening to the speech.
"I just think," Carlos whispered dramatically, "that if they wanted us to learn, they wouldn't make textbooks so expensive."
"They're expensive because they're big," Logan whispered back.
"They're big because they hate us."
Alex looked up.
"That's not how books work."
"I disagree."
At the other end of the table, Max and Charles were bent over the same page.
Charles tapped the end of his pencil against one equation.
Max quietly wrote something beneath it.
Charles frowned.
"Oh."
Max gave a small nod.
No more words were needed.
Lando looked between all of them before dropping his chin into his hand.
"Well."
Oscar looked up from his notebook.
"Well?"
"I've discovered something."
"Should I be worried?"
"Probably."
Oscar laughed quietly.
"What is it?"
Lando gestured vaguely around the table.
"Everyone's busy."
Oscar glanced around.
George and Alex had moved on to arguing over whether colour-coding notes actually helped.
Carlos was now insisting engineering students deserved hazard pay.
Logan looked like he was regretting every decision that had led him to this table.
Max and Charles hadn't looked up in at least five minutes.
"I suppose they are."
"So now you're stuck talking to me."
Oscar considered that.
"I think I'll survive."
"I'd hope so."
A small smile tugged at Oscar's mouth before he looked back down at his notes. Lando didn't. He was curious. New person curious.
"So."
Oscar hummed.
"You really flew in yesterday?"
"Mm."
"That's rough."
"It was."
"How long was the flight?"
Oscar looked up, trying to work it out.
"Twenty three hours? Ish."
Lando winced.
"Never mind."
"There was a baby."
"Oh, no."
"For most of it."
"Oh, no."
Oscar nodded solemnly.
"It was character building."
Lando snorted.
"I think that's legally classified as torture."
A quiet laugh escaped Oscar, he ducked his head again almost immediately afterwards.
Lando smiled to himself.
"You settling in alright?"
"I think so."
"You think?"
Oscar looked around the library.
"I've gotten lost three times already."
"It's one building."
"I know."
"You managed that?"
"I have a gift."
"Hm."
Lando pretended to think about it.
"I did see you carrying the campus map upside down earlier."
Oscar covered his face with one hand.
"Can we pretend that never happened?"
"No."
"I was hoping you'd say yes."
"I would've."
A beat.
"But this is significantly funnier."
Oscar shook his head, laughing under his breath.
"You're awful."
"I've been told."
"Frequently?"
"Almost daily."
Lando's phone vibrated against the table.
His smile faded almost imperceptibly. He reached for it automatically, thumb brushing across the screen. Oscar didn't catch more than a glimpse of the notification before Lando tilted the phone away.
Whatever it was, it was enough. Lando's eyes lifted. Across the table, Max looked up from Charles' notebook. For a split second, neither of them spoke.
Max's gaze flickered briefly towards the phone, then back to Lando. A tiny nod, so small nobody else would've noticed it.
Lando nodded once in return.
That was all.
"Sorry," he said, already pushing his chair back.
He looked towards Oscar almost as an afterthought.
"Gotta head off."
Oscar blinked.
"Oh."
"I'll catch you later, yeah?"
Before Oscar had a chance to answer, Lando had already slung his backpack over one shoulder.
Carlos looked up.
"Already?"
"Yeah."
"You've been here, like, twenty minutes."
"I know."
Carlos pointed accusingly.
"If you come back with food and don't share, we're no longer friends."
"I'll take that risk."
"Heartbreaking."
Lando laughed quietly.
"See you lot later."
He turned, weaving between the bookshelves before disappearing around the corner.
The table was quiet for about three seconds.
George flicked a paper aeroplane. It sailed cleanly across the table and landed directly on Charles' notebook.
Charles sighed.
Max reached over, picked it up, turned it over thoughtfully.
"...George."
"What?"
Without another word, Max folded one extra crease into the wings and launched it straight back.
It bounced neatly off George's forehead. Alex burst into laughter. Carlos nearly choked on his own whisper. George looked genuinely offended.
"You've been practising."
"I've had good teachers," Max replied, not even trying to hide the tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Oscar found himself watching the exchange for a second before looking back towards the library entrance.
Lando was already gone.
The library bathroom was empty. Lando pushed through the door, checked the stalls out of habit, then crossed to the window at the very end. Locked.
"Come on."
He fiddled with the latch until it gave way with a quiet click.
"There we go."
Cool air rushed in immediately. He swung one leg over the windowsill before dropping lightly into the narrow alley behind the library.
The city hummed around him. Car horns, distant chatter, somewhere far off, a siren.
Lando slipped his backpack from one shoulder, looking around the alley for somewhere reasonably hidden.
A drainpipe. Good enough.
He crouched, tucking the bag behind it before pausing.
"Actually."
He pulled it back out.
"That'll get nicked."
Another glance around. Nobody. He shot a thin strand of web at the drainpipe.
Thwip.
Then another around the straps of his backpack. He gave it an experimental tug. It held.
"Please still be here when I get back."
A beat.
"Textbooks are expensive."
Satisfied enough, he reached into the backpack one last time. The red mask disappeared over his curls in one smooth movement. His shoulders straightened almost instinctively.
Another web shot skyward.
Thwip.
He stepped forward, let the line go taut, and disappeared above the rooftops before the web had even stopped swaying.
By the time Logan wandered off in search of a textbook Professor Vettel had recommended, the library had emptied considerably.
George, Alex, Carlos, Max and Charles had all headed back towards their flats not long after. Apparently Carlos had decided unpacking was a "tomorrow problem."
Oscar had stayed. Mostly because one question had somehow turned into three. Then six. Then an entire page of algebra that seemed determined to make him regret choosing mechanical engineering.
He frowned at the notebook.
"How?"
A quiet smell drifted past him. Rain. Like standing outside after a storm.
Before Oscar had time to think about where he'd smelled it earlier a finger tapped the page.
"Carry that over."
Oscar jumped.
Lando was leaning over the back of his chair as though he'd been there the whole time. His curls were even messier than before, windswept in every direction. His breathing was only just beginning to settle. There was a split across his lower lip. A thin scratch disappeared beneath the collar of his hoodie.
Lando pointed at the equation.
"Then that becomes..."
He squinted.
"What?"
"The square root of forty nine?"
Oscar looked down.
"Yeah."
"A perfect square."
Another tap of the page.
"Seven."
Oscar frowned.
"But..."
He pointed further down.
"What about the two?"
Lando barely looked.
"Cancels out the other side."
Oscar blinked.
"Oh."
He erased half the line, wrote it again.
"Oh."
Lando grinned.
"Told you."
Oscar looked back up. Only now really taking him in. His lip. The scratch beneath his jaw. The hoodie was slightly dirtier than it'd been an hour ago.
"What happened to your lip?"
Lando touched it absently.
"Oh."
Tiny shrug.
"I'm a lip biter."
Oscar's eyes drifted to the scratch.
"And your jaw?"
"Uh, tiny scratch. Nothing serious."
The answer came just a little too quickly. Before Oscar could ask anything else, Lando reached down, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
"Anyway."
He lifted two fingers in a lazy salute.
"See you around."
Then he was gone. Oscar watched the library doors swing shut behind him. A few seconds later Logan returned, a thick textbook tucked beneath one arm.
He slowed when he noticed Oscar was still staring towards the exit.
"What the hell was that?"
Oscar didn't look away.
"...Great question."
It took them another half an hour to finally admit defeat. Oscar shut his notebook with considerably more force than necessary.
"I'm done."
Logan looked up from his own notes.
"Done studying?"
"Done pretending I know what I'm doing."
"Ah."
Logan nodded gravely.
"A very important distinction."
Oscar pointed a finger at him.
"Not one word."
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"You were."
"I absolutely was."
Oscar sighed, shoving the notebook into his backpack.
"I've been in this country less than a whole day and I'm already questioning every decision I've ever made."
Logan slung the newly-purchased textbook under one arm.
"Good."
Oscar frowned.
"Good?"
"Means you're settling in."
That earned him a light shove as they stood. The library had grown noticeably quieter while they'd been inside.
Outside, the afternoon had slipped into that familiar grey England seemed determined to maintain.
Oscar looked up.
"Does the sun exist here?"
Logan glanced at the clouds.
"Rumour has it."
"I'm beginning to think everyone just collectively imagined it."
"It comes out for, like, six minutes every July."
Oscar laughed.
"Brilliant."
Neither of them made any move towards the sports hall where half the freshman class had abandoned suitcases in neat rows while waiting for accommodation to be sorted.
There'd be time to unpack. There'd be time to figure out where they were sleeping.
For now campus.
Logan shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
"So."
"So?"
"We've been talking about this place for..." He frowned thoughtfully. "Three years?"
"Just over."
"And now we're actually here."
Oscar looked around. Students wandered between buildings carrying coffee cups and boxes. A group sat on the grass despite the ground still looking damp from the morning rain. Someone was trying, and failing, to ride a skateboard across the courtyard.
It looked lived in.
"I still can't believe you're real."
Oscar looked sideways at him.
"What?"
"You've been a Discord profile picture for three years."
"Oh, cheers."
"I'm serious."
"You expected me to be six foot five?"
"I expected you to have worse posture."
"I do have terrible posture."
"You do."
Oscar nudged his shoulder.
"And yet somehow you're still shorter."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"No."
A smile tugged at the corner of Oscar's mouth.
"I don't."
They wandered without much of a plan after that. \
Past the engineering workshops with their enormous windows overlooking rows of machinery. Past the student union, where someone had already managed to put up posters advertising clubs that hadn't even held their first meetings yet. Past a tiny café tucked beneath one of the older brick buildings.
Logan slowed.
"We're coming back here."
"For the coffee?"
"For the pastries."
"You haven't even tried them."
"I don't need to."
Oscar raised an eyebrow.
"Blind optimism."
"It's called confidence."
"I think it's called poor financial planning."
"It can be both."
They kept walking, occasionally checking a map, occasionally ignoring it entirely.
Every building seemed to lead into another courtyard. Every courtyard into another path.
Oscar was fairly sure he'd already walked past the same oak tree twice.
"You know," Logan said after a while, "I think getting lost is part of the experience."
Oscar looked around the maze of brick buildings.
"I think we're succeeding."
They reached another courtyard before Logan slowed to a stop.
"Oh."
Oscar looked up from the map.
"What?"
Logan was staring across the square. Professor Vettel was halfway across it, talking to another lecturer as they walked.
"I completely forgot."
"What?"
"He wanted me to come by his office if I managed to get hold of that textbook."
Oscar looked at the book tucked beneath Logan's arm.
"Already?"
"Apparently there's an online access code inside."
He shrugged.
"Said it'd save me an email later."
Oscar nodded.
"Go."
"You sure?"
"I think I can survive ten minutes."
Logan looked down at the map in Oscar's hands.
"Can you?"
Oscar followed his gaze. The map was upside down. He quietly turned it the right way up.
"That was one time."
"It was also this morning."
"I've grown since then."
Logan laughed.
"I'll meet you back at the sports hall in... half an hour?"
"Half an hour."
"If you get lost—"
"I won't."
"—text me."
"I won't."
"You definitely will."
Oscar rolled his eyes.
"Go before Professor Vettel disappears."
Logan pointed at him.
"Half an hour."
Then he jogged across the courtyard, disappearing after the professor.
Oscar watched him go before looking back down at the map.
Left? Or right?
He frowned.
The map frowned back.
Five minutes later, he was almost certain he'd somehow made things worse. The path he'd taken curved between two older brick buildings before opening into a quieter corner of campus.
Oscar stopped, looking at the map. He turned it slightly, tilting his head.
"No."
A quiet snort sounded somewhere beside him.
Oscar looked up.
Lando stood a few feet away, two grocery bags hanging from each hand.
He looked from Oscar to the map then back again. The corners of his mouth twitched.
"You're holding it upside down."
Oscar stared at the map. He turned it the right way up.
"Right."
Lando bit the inside of his cheek, very obviously trying not to laugh. It didn't quite work.
Oscar looked at him for a second.
The hoodie had been swapped for a softer looking grey one, sleeves shoved carelessly to his forearms. Sweatpants instead of jeans. Four grocery bags stretched from both hands, digging into his fingers.
He looked different, less like the guy who'd been joking his way through a lecture that morning.
His curls were still windswept from wherever he'd come from, refusing to lie flat despite the fact he'd clearly tried running a hand through them. The split in his lip was still there too.
Lando finally gave up trying not to smile.
"Want help finding your dorm?"
Oscar let out a long sigh.
"Please."
"Thought so."
Oscar unfolded the map properly this time before pointing towards the room number scribbled in one corner.
Lando's eyes flicked over it. Then he let out a low whistle.
"No way."
Oscar frowned.
"What?"
"You're in my flat."
"Am I?"
"Yeah."
Lando looked up with an easy grin.
"C'mon."
He nodded towards the path disappearing between two buildings.
"You're actually not that far."
Oscar folded the map away and fell into step beside him. For a minute, they walked in comfortable silence. The grocery bags rustled quietly with each step.
Oscar glanced sideways.
"So..."
Lando hummed.
"You're a fresher too, right?"
"Mhm."
"Then," Oscar gestured vaguely ahead of them. "How do you know your way around this place so well?"
"Oh."
Lando rubbed the back of his neck against the hood of his sweatshirt.
"Slightly embarrassing, but I moved onto campus pretty much the moment I finished Year Twelve."
Oscar blinked.
"You did?"
Lando nodded.
"So I've had about three months to accidentally memorize where everything is."
"Accidentally?"
"I got lost enough times that eventually I stopped getting lost."
Oscar laughed.
"I suppose that'll do it."
Lando shrugged.
"I'm probably about as knowledgeable as a second year."
"Probably, yeah."
They rounded another corner. The accommodation blocks came into view ahead, stretching four storeys high around a central courtyard.
The lift arrived almost immediately. The doors slid shut behind them. Lando shifted the grocery bags into one hand.
"So."
Oscar looked over.
"Why across the world?"
"What?"
"For university."
Lando shrugged.
"Australia's got some brilliant ones."
Oscar leaned back against the lift wall.
"It does."
"So why here?"
Oscar was quiet for a moment.
"My entire family," He smiled faintly. "They've all studied in Australia."
Lando listened.
"I think I just wanted to do something different."
The lift hummed gently around them. Then Lando nodded once.
"Damn."
"What?"
"That's nice."
Oscar laughed.
"I hope so."
The lift doors slid open. Noise hit them immediately. Carlos' voice echoed down the corridor before either of them had even stepped into the flat.
"I'm TELLING you, that's not where that goes!"
"It literally is," came Charles' much calmer reply.
"No!"
A cupboard door slammed. Someone laughed.
Oscar looked at Lando.
"There are only three other people."
Lando just smiled.
"Yeah."
He pushed open the door.
"Told you."
The flat wasn't huge, but it was already unmistakably lived in.
Charles was kneeling on the floor beside an open box of books. Max was standing in the tiny kitchen, trying to work out where everything belonged. Carlos had somehow managed to occupy the middle of the living room while contributing absolutely nothing.
He looked up first.
"There you are!"
His eyes landed on Oscar.
"Oh."
He pointed.
"Australian."
Oscar blinked.
"Yeah."
Lando laughed quietly as he carried the groceries through to the kitchen.
"Oh, I should probably explain."
Oscar followed him inside.
"There's technically four bedrooms."
He set the grocery bags onto the counter with a relieved sigh.
"But two of them have bunk beds."
He pointed down the hallway.
"Charles and Max already claimed one of the bunk rooms."
Another gesture.
"I took one of the bunks in the other room."
Oscar nodded slowly.
"That means," Lando said, "you can either take the other bunk with me."
He pointed towards the last remaining door.
"Or the single room."
Oscar let out a quiet snort.
"Somehow I get the feeling you're trying to convince me to take the bunk."
Lando's grin lingered for another second before he shook his head.
"Honestly?"
He shrugged.
"I don't mind."
Oscar raised an eyebrow.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Lando leaned back against the kitchen counter.
"If I were you, I'd just pick whichever room you'd be happier waking up in."
Oscar glanced down the hallway. One room. Then the other. He could still hear Carlos arguing with someone in the living room.
"I'm telling you, mugs don't belong there."
"They do," Charles replied.
"No."
"They're cups."
"They're my cups."
Max sighed.
Oscar couldn't help smiling. The flat was loud. But comfortable loud. Everyone had somehow skipped the awkward stage entirely.
He'd crossed half the world.
The thought of spending his first year shutting himself away in a room by himself suddenly felt lonely.
"So it'd just be us?" he asked.
Lando nodded.
"Yeah."
"And Max and Charles already share?"
"They claimed theirs before I got the chance."
Oscar hummed.
"I don't really mind sharing."
"Cool."
Lando nodded once.
"Works for me."
A beat.
"Fair warning, though."
Oscar looked over.
"I snore."
"Really?"
"No."
Oscar narrowed his eyes.
"You sure?"
Lando smiled innocently.
"I talk in my sleep."
"Really?"
"No."
"Lando."
"I'll stop."
A laugh escaped Oscar before he could stop it. From the living room, Carlos' voice rang out.
"LANDO!"
"What?"
"IS HE TAKING THE BUNK?"
"I THINK SO."
Carlos threw both hands into the air.
"YES!"
Oscar blinked.
"Why are you celebrating?"
Carlos looked at him as though the answer was obvious.
"Because if you took the single room, he'd spread."
Lando frowned.
"I do not spread."
Max didn't even look up from unloading cutlery.
"You absolutely spread."
Charles nodded in agreement.
"Your desk currently occupies three separate surfaces."
"I'm an engineering student!"
"Exactly."
Oscar laughed again. Lando pointed accusingly at the other three.
"I'd like it to be known that I'm being slandered in my own home."
"Our home," Max corrected.
Lando paused.
Then smiled.
"Our home."
Something about the way he said it made Oscar glance over. It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't even particularly emotional. It was like he'd been waiting for the flat to sound like this again.
Oscar looked down the hallway one last time before setting his backpack beside the bedroom door with the bunk beds.
"I call top."
Lando blinked.
"Really?"
Oscar shrugged.
Lando looked up at the bunk.
"Fair."
Then, with perfect seriousness—
"Just don't throw things at me."
Oscar smiled.
"I make no promises."
The room settled into an easy sort of quiet. The sound of someone unpacking while someone else happened to be there, thats it.
Oscar unzipped another suitcase, pulling out a stack of folded jumpers.
Across the room, Lando had claimed the floor beside his desk.
The sleeves of his hoodie were pushed up to his elbows, safety glasses balanced on top of his head instead of over his eyes. A soldering iron rested in one hand while the other steadied a tiny silver piece of metal between his fingers.
Every few seconds: *Click. *Buzz.
The faint smell of warm metal drifted across the room. Oscar hung another hoodie in the wardrobe.
"What're you making?"
Lando didn't even look up.
"Wrist thing."
"For?"
"Project."
Oscar nodded.
"Cool."
That apparently answered every question either of them had. Lando went straight back to soldering. Oscar went back to unpacking.
A minute later, "You need another hanger?"
Oscar looked over.
"Yeah, actually."
Lando stood, still holding the little metal piece between two fingers, and wandered over to the wardrobe.
He reached onto the top shelf without even looking.
"There."
Oscar blinked.
"You've already memorized where everything is?"
"I've lived here longer."
"Right."
Lando handed him the hanger before wandering back to his desk, humming quietly to himself. The room fell comfortably silent again.
Oscar unpacked books next. Then toiletries. Then a small framed photograph. He smiled to himself before setting it carefully on the shelf above his desk. His parents, his sisters. Taken the week before he'd flown out.
"Nice picture."
Oscar glanced over.
Lando still hadn't looked up from whatever he was building.
"Thanks."
"Big family?"
"Yeah."
Oscar smiled faintly.
"Bit loud."
"The best ones usually are."
Oscar laughed under his breath.
"I'll tell them you said that."
"Please do."
Another shirt disappeared into the wardrobe. Another notebook found its place on the shelf. Eventually Oscar paused.
He'd wandered over to the desk to make room in one of the drawers when something tucked behind Lando's lamp caught his eye. A Polaroid, small enough that he'd almost missed it.
A little boy with pin straight blond hair grinned at the camera, one of his front teeth missing. Beside him, a woman laughed at something just outside the frame, one hand resting lightly on the boy's shoulder.
The corners of the picture were worn soft as if it'd been picked up hundreds of times.
"Cute picture."
The soldering iron clicked off. Lando glanced over his shoulder.
"Oh."
His expression softened for just a heartbeat.
"My mum."
Oscar smiled.
"She looks nice."
A tiny pause.
"She was."
Lando reached over absentmindedly, nudging the Polaroid so it sat a little straighter against the lamp.
Then, just as naturally, "You reckon we need another bin in here?"
Oscar blinked.
"Probably?"
"I've got a spare somewhere."
Lando crouched beside the wardrobe, already rummaging through a cupboard.
"There we go."
He held up a little plastic bin triumphantly.
"Knew I wasn't imagining it."
Oscar laughed.
"You've just got spare bins lying around?"
"You never know when you'll need one."
"I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that."
"Stick around."
Lando dropped the bin beside Oscar's desk with a satisfied nod.
"You'll hear plenty weirder."
Jet lag arrived like a brick. By the time the lights were off, Oscar was exhausted. He climbed into the top bunk, convinced he'd fall asleep instantly.
Instead he ended up staring at the ceiling. His body stubbornly insisted it was still afternoon. He replayed the day instead.
Professor Vettel. George and his paper aeroplanes. Carlos' endless commentary. Max quietly solving equations beside Charles. Lando somehow knowing the answer to a problem Oscar had spent fifteen minutes fighting.
The busted lip. The scratch beneath his jaw. The groceries. The little Polaroid.
Oscar frowned into the darkness.
"Cute picture."
"My mum."
"She looks nice."
"She was."
His eyes opened. He turned his head just enough to look down at the room below. Moonlight spilled through the window, catching the edge of the tiny Polaroid still leaning against the lamp.
Everything else on Lando's side of the room had a purpose. Engineering textbooks, a toolbox, coils of wire, a soldering iron, boxes of screws, stacked notebooks and not so neat papers.
And that one photograph.
Oscar looked at it for another moment before rolling back onto his side. Maybe he'd misheard. Maybe he hadn't. Either way it wasn't his place to ask.
Not yet.
Sleep never came. Oscar lasted another twenty minutes before finally giving up. He checked the time on his phone.
2:47 A.M.
"Brilliant."
With a sigh, he quietly climbed down from the top bunk.
The room was almost entirely dark, moonlight spilling through the window in pale strips across the floor.
He pulled on his hoodie as quietly as he could. Automatically, he glanced towards the bottom bunk. Lando was asleep, he looked asleep anyway.
The blanket rose into the unmistakable shape of someone curled beneath it, a pillow just visible near the headboard.
Satisfied he hadn't woken him, Oscar slipped from the room, gently easing the door shut behind him.
The campus felt different at night. The buzz of students had disappeared entirely, replaced by the distant hum of traffic somewhere beyond the university grounds.
The rain had stopped hours ago, leaving the pathways shining beneath the streetlights.
Oscar shoved his hands into his pockets. He wasn't trying to get anywhere in particular.
Jet lag had a funny way of making the world feel disconnected.
A police siren echoed faintly somewhere across the city. Oscar looked up instinctively. A streak of red and blue swept between two buildings. Fast. So fast he almost thought he'd imagined it.
His eyes tracked it across the skyline.
Spider-Man.
The figure disappeared behind the engineering building before another web shot into the darkness.
Thwip.
Oscar stopped walking.
"No way."
He'd seen videos, news clips, the occasional blurry photo online. But that was different.
Another web caught somewhere high above.
Spider-Man landed briefly on the edge of one of the older campus buildings, crouched low as he scanned the streets below.
Then he straightened.
Even from this distance, Oscar could make out the white lenses turning in his direction. Not really looking at him but definitely noticing someone happened to be there.
Spider-Man lifted two fingers in an easy, lazy salute. The same sort of absent-minded gesture someone might give a neighbour while walking past. He almost thought he remembered it from somewhere.
Oscar blinked. Then, without really thinking, lifted a hand back.
Spider-Man pushed backwards off the rooftop.
A web caught somewhere out of sight.
Thwip.
And he was gone.
Oscar stood there for another few moments, staring at the empty rooftops.
"That's..."
He laughed quietly to himself.
"...Actually really cool."
A breeze drifted through the courtyard. It carried the clean smell of rain with it. Oscar frowned.
For a second it felt oddly familiar. Before he could place where from, the wind had already moved on.
He shook his head with a smile and started walking back towards the accommodation blocks.
Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
____________________________________