Work Text:
The sound of the engine filled the McLaren garage, a Deep, steady hum that made Oscar’s chest vibrate.
Oscar didn’t care about the cameras, or the fact that he was complety out of place in his oversized hoodie and sneakers. He’d been on countless red carpets and sold-out arenas, but somehow, standing here felt far more nerve-wracking. This was Lando’s world, and until recently, they’d been careful to keep their worlds apart.
The first rumors had started weeks ago –blurry paparazzi photos in Monaco, a fan spotting them at dinner, the suspicious matching bracalets. Neither of them had confirmed anything, but the internet didn’t need much to start connecting dots. And now, Oscar was here front row in the McLaren garage, with TV cameras everywhere. If the world hadn't figured it out yet… they were about to.
He crossed the garage slowly, weaving between mechanics and spare tires, heart pounding harder than before a show. Lando was getting ready to step into the car, when he finally looked up, for a second the noise of the garage faded. His expression softened the moment he spotted Oscar, and he took a small step closer, lowering his voice so only he could hear.
“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” Lando said, eyes glinting under the flourescent lights.
“I told you i would,” Oscar replied with a small smile. “Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t forget you have a boyfriend before you go out there.”
Lando’s laugh was quick, warm. “I never forget.”
There was a beat of silence, filled only by the distant commentary from the pit wall. Oscar shifted closer, the edge of his hoodie brushing against Lando’s suit. His hand found its way to Lando’s arm, squeezing gently. “You nervous?”
“Always, a little," Lando admitted, glancing toward the car. “But it’s easier when you’re here.”
The words settled warm in Oscar’s chest, sparking something softer than adrenaline. Before he could second-guess himself, he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to the glossy surface of Lando’s helmet –visor down now, ready to race.
Lando grinned behind the glass. “For luck?”
“Always,” Oscar answered, his voice almost lost in the roar of the engine as Lando climbed into the car.
The moment was small, barely a second, but McLaren’s social media team had caught it from two different angles. By the time Lando was halfway through the first practice session, the video was already posted –captioned only with a winking emoji and the words For luck 💛.
Twitter was in shambles within minutes. “DID OSCAR PIASTRI JUST KISS LANDO’S HELMET???” trended worldwide, edits flooded TikTok, and Instagram was littered with screencaps and zoom-ins. F1 fans and Oscar’s pop stans collieded in the comments section, half screaming about “soft boyfriend energy” and the other half demanding a joint livestream.
Oscar, sitting in the hospitality lounge with a coffee, scrolled through his phone with a mix of amusement and mild horror. His mentions were a mess –some people were crying, others writing essays about their relationship timeline like they were solving a cold case.
The door open, and Lando walked in still in his suit, hair damp from the helmet, cheeks flushed. He dropped into the seat across from Oscar, a smug smile already forming.
“So,” Lando said casually, stealing a fry from Oscar’s plate, “you’ve seen the internet, I assumed?”
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “I’ve seen the fan edits of me and my boyfriend the Formula 1 driver, yes.”
“Do you regret it?” Lando teased, leaning forward, his voice dipping into something more genuine.
Oscar smirked. “Not even a little. But i think we just soft-launched our relationship to like… the entire planet.”
Lando’s grin widened. “Good. Makes it easier to kiss you without the helmet next time.”
Oscar’s laugh was quiet, but the warmth in his chest lingered – and for once, the roar of the outside world didn’t feel so loud.
The next day, the paddock was buzzing with a new kind of energy. Cameras followed Lando everywhere, microphones ready, while fans chattered nonstop about the “kiss heard around the F1 world.”
Oscar stood beside him, casual but alert, as they faced the press in the McLaren hospitality suite. A reporter stepped forward, holding a microphone with a grin.
“So, Lando, Oscar – the internet exploded after that little moment in the garage. Is this an official confirmation?”
Lando exchanged a quick glance with Oscar before answering. He smirked, “Well, i guess actions speak louder than words, right?”
Oscar chuckled, adding, “We’re just two people who happen to care about each other. The rest is up to everyone else’s imagination.”
A wave of laughter followed, but the chemistry between them was undeniable. The cameras caught every shared smile, every knowing look – a quiet but clear message that this was just the beginning.
Later that evening, the paddock was quiet. The roar of the engines had faded into a peaceful hum under the golden sunset.
Oscar and Lando slipped away to a small rooftop terrace overlooking the track, the world around them soft and still.
Lando looked at Oscar with a tired but genuine smile.
“Crazy day, huh?”
Oscar nodded, eyes warm. “Yeah. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
They settled close, sharing a blanket as the cool breeze wrapped around them.
“I like that,” Lando said softly , “us being real. No flash, no noise.”
Oscar smiled, leaning into Lando’s shoulder. After a quiet moment, he lifted his head and their eyes met.
Without saying a word, Lando cupped Oscar’s face gently, pulling him in for a soft, slow kiss – the kind that spoke louder than any headline ever could.
The kiss ended, and Lando pulled back just enough to flash a mischievous grin.
“Guess that means you owe me a private concert sometime,” he teased.
Oscar rolled his eyes but smiled. “You wish. I’m pretty sure my fans would riot if i canceled a show just for you.”
Lando laughed, nudging him gently. “Oh, come on, i thought this was a team effort. You hype my race, I sing at your shows-“
“And the fans?” Oscar interrupted. “They only care about the kiss. Honestly, i’m just here for the snacks and the behind-the-scenes-action.”
Lando raised an eyebrow. “Snacks, huh? I’m starting to think you’ve been sneaking into the garage just to raid the hospitality suite.”
Oscar grinned, they both melted into each other as the sunset outside the paddock.