Chapter Text
A cold, drafty evening in the Piastri household, grades faltering just below average, even though Oscar had gotten extra credit.
Oscar sits at his desk, eyebrows furrowing under each and every question. His pen felt heavier every time, scribbling out answers and rewriting them, desperate to feel smart.
The pages blur together until they became nothing more than a haze of ink and expectations. The soft glow of his lamp flickers just like the wonders in his mind, fading in and out.
Wrestling with thoughts that refused to be tamed, his knowledge slips through his fingers like water. Studying didn’t feel like learning anymore, it felt like wandering through fog, aware that the path was there, but unable to find it.
Tears roll down his cheeks before he even knew he was crying, falling onto the page and dripping down his neck and soaking the neckline of his navy blue T-shirt, dampening the fabric and turning it a darker shade. The moment his tears hit the paper, the ink bled outwards in trembling black veins, destroying and smudging the work he tried so hard to write.
Frustration surges through Oscar’s chest, sharp and hot. He slams his fist against the wooden desk, the scattered pens and pencils jump at the impact, clattering onto the floor, a vase falling to the ground, the fragile porcelain china hitting the floor with a heartbreaking crash, the frail pieces shatter upon impact, splintering across the floor like petals dropping from an old, withered flower.
Oscar’s vision blurred completely, swallowed by a wall of tears. He blinked desperately trying to force the world back into focus, back to the normal he knew, but instead all he managed to figure out when he squinted was an upsetting ruin of his hard work and the weight of everything he couldn’t control
Oscar gives up, kicking back to stand up out of his chair, striding over to his bed and flopping over onto it, hands covering face as he cries, peeking through his calloused fingers to the ceiling, fingers aching from all those hours of uselessly holding the pen.
“ Why do I have to be so dumb, “ He sniffles, moving his hands to rub his tears out his eyes and using his arm to wipe the snot that drips from his nose, strands of sticky mucus clinging to his arm, he’s about to continue crying when he hears a knock on the door, followed by the sound of someone shifting their weight behind the door.
The familiar rumble of a voice on the other side sending a small jolt through his chest. The door creaked open just enough for a shadow to fall across Oscar’s room, and Lando leaned against the frame, eyes steady, expression unreadable. “Hello, Oscar,” he said, his tone low and quiet, almost gentle, yet carrying something heavier beneath it. The simple greeting lingered in the air, filling the small room with a tension Oscar couldn’t quite name.
“ Hi. “ Oscar grumbles, voice hoarse and rough from crying. It suddenly clicks in his head.
It’s Lando. Lando Norris, his tutor. The tutor that gave him head for extra credit.
Oscar looks up at the man in the doorway, eyes dewy and bloodshot, tear trails still left staining on his cheek and chin quivering.
Lando fully steps into the room once he notices Oscar’s shaking frame, the trembling in his shoulders, the silent display of protest as he shields his face with his hands, hesitantly peaking over; the sight making Lando’s chest tighten.
He closes the door behind him with a subtle click and crosses the room without hesitation, his strides long, footsteps quiet and motive sure. As he drew closer, he could see even more streaks of tears slipping down Oscar’s face, catching the light, sparkling on the trails of the younger’s sadness.
“ Hey.. Oscar, “ he murmurs again, softer this time. He crouches beside the bed, placing a steady hand on Oscar’s thigh, close enough to offer comfort, but gentle enough to let him pull away if needed.
“ Your mother hired me again, “ He speaks quietly, a tender source of warmth in this cold moment for Oscar, “ What’s wrong, Oscuh? “
Oscar cries his eyes out, sniffling and wailing as he buries his face into his palms.
“ I’m so dumb.. I’ll never get this, i’m just not, “ He snorts up his snot, “ just not good enough, “ he choaks out between sobs, each word racked with self loathing and internalised hate and harmful criticism.
“ Why even try? I’m no good at this, even my parents can see how dumb I am, that’s why you’re here. To teach me because I’m too stupid. I can’t do anything right. “ He rants ,voice cracking and clearly upset and hurt by himself.
Every failure he imagined piled onto him, heavier than the last, and he felt smaller, weaker, like he was disappearing under the weight of his own words.
Lando reaches out slowly, hand warm as he cups the side of Oscar’s face, slow and sensual—almost reverent. With a careful thumb, he shifted his students chin up, gingerly forcing Oscar to meet his gentle gaze.
“ Look at me. “ He says softly, voice steady and packed with calming reassurance, the touch of Lando’s palm to Oscar’s face grounding him.
“ You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re not dumb, I promise. You just.. need to breathe. Let loose, stop caring for a while. “ The intensity of his water coloured eyes weirdly soothing as his optics burn into Oscar’s skin, unrelenting, steady and unwavering.
Oscar’s hands trembled slightly as raised his head more, eyes slowly scaling up the elders sharp glance. The honeyed words of reassurance and guidance ring through Oscar’s ears, the soft speech bouncing through my cerebrum, his words smooth as silk, like sin covered up by the need to make Oscar feel better.
As we look into eachothers eyes, there’s an undeniably alluring urge to just kiss him on the spot.
Oscar’s moving on autopilot, almost unconsciously, he leans in, driven by the desire and bound up need. Mere centimetres from Lando’s face, his heart thudded loudly in his chest, every nerve set ablaze with anticipation. He paused there, caught between the primal urge to be marked, claimed, and hesitation.
Lips hover close, but not yet touching as the world seemed to shrink into a spec of matter until nothing existed but the quiet tension between them.
Oscar nears even closer, breaths mingling and hearts hammering in unison. The younger leans in first, tentative, testing the waters to see if this was a calm lake or a treacherous riptide. Lando copies like a mirror reflecting artwork, equally cautious. Their lips met softly, eyes growing wide before fluttering shut, sparks eliciting between the two sharing a brief, sacred moment of sweet love. It was almost fragile until it morphed into something more, something heated and needy, something fiery. Something too fierce for them to deny the first time they did it, all those weeks ago, was a blip. Lando pulls back slightly, panting for air, face flushed and connected by a strand of saliva, adorned with tiny pearls of spit. Forehead pressed together, the air seemed to crackle, the two knew that wouldn’t last long.
They hold eye contact before diving back into the kiss, a desperate clash of tongue and teeth, a tangle of lips pressed together with raw desperation and fervour. Mouthes colliding fiercely, teeth grazing, tongues slipping and sliding, almost duelling and exploring in eachothers dark abyss, trying to claim the other like claiming the straight grades.
Hands gripped shoulders, pulling eachother impossibly closer as if they weren’t flush against one another previously. The rooms silent apart from the small gasps and groans spilled between frantic kisses, bodies pressed together and hearts hammering in sync, the weight of the world vanished entirely under the weight of hunger, need and reckless desire.
Lando puller Oscar closer, hips connecting and grinding together as Oscar whimpers into the elders mouth, their kiss growing deeper, hotter, the kind that left them both breathless. Oscar grips at Lando’s shirt, fingers tightening on the fabric that separates them as they press even closer, the thin space between them disappearing entirely. Lando’s hand slid down Oscar’s waist, resting low on his hip, close enough to make the younger’s breath catch, close enough that the intention simmered loudly in the charred air between them. The fierce pressure of Lando’s touch, teasing and deliberate, sent a shiver through Oscar’s body, tingles running down his spine. Younger kisses him harder, movements growing more desperate as if they were fighting to not cross the line they had already stepped over.
Oscar stands up, meeting Lando’s height, turning around and being pressed against the wall by the elder’s large frame, greeted by kisses along the neck and his cheek being pressed sideways against the wall.