I’ll believe in anything, you’ll believe in any thing

Oscar Piastri never expected one honest answer to change everything. As rumors spread and pressure mounts, he and Lando Norris find themselves trying to protect something they both care about. But sometimes the things left unsaid can hurt the most, and not every relationship survives being kept in the shadows.

Notes:

Happy Pride Month! 🏳️‍🌈

Whether you’re celebrating proudly, figuring things out, supporting someone you love, or simply learning more about yourself, I hope this month reminds you that you deserve kindness, acceptance, and the freedom to be who you are.

And if you’re struggling right now, that’s okay too. Not everyone has everything figured out, and there is no timeline for understanding yourself or feeling comfortable in your own skin. Take things at your own pace, be patient with yourself, and remember that you’re not alone in what you’re feeling.

Pride is about joy, community, resilience, and being able to exist as yourself. However you’re spending this month, I hope you find moments of happiness, support, and hope.

Happy Pride Month. 💜🏳️‍🌈✨

This story is based on the song ill believe in anything from wolf parade and a scene from heated rivalry.

Work Text:

Oscar takes a deep breath, his eyes scanning the court.

Across the net stands Jannik Sinner. One of his closest friends off the court, but right now he’s the enemy.

The scoreboard reads 30–40.

Fifth set.

Four hours of tennis have brought them here.

If Oscar wins the next point, he stays alive. If he loses it, it’s over.

The Australian Open final.

His home Slam.

The crowd falls silent as Oscar steps up to the baseline.

Spin.

Bounce.

His ritual.

He tosses the ball into the air and swings.

A perfect serve.

Jannik returns it with ease.

The rally begins.

Back and forth they go, neither willing to give an inch. Despite four exhausting hours on court, every shot is struck with incredible precision.

Then Oscar sees it.

A tiny mistake.

Jannik’s pattern is broken.

Oscar attacks immediately, driving a forehand deep into the open court.

Jannik sprints.

Too late.

The ball flies past him.

“Deuce.”

The crowd erupts.

Oscar exhales slowly and walks back to the line.

Spin.

Bounce.

Another serve.

Another rally.

Oscar places every shot perfectly, forcing Jannik from side to side. Left. Right. Forward. Back.

Jannik is beginning to crack.

A backhand clips the net and falls back onto his side.

“Advantage Piastri.”

One point away.

The entire stadium rises to its feet.

Oscar grips the ball.

Spin.

Bounce.

The final ritual.

He serves.

Jannik returns.

The rally starts again.

Every shot carries the weight of a lifetime.

Years of training.

Years of sacrifice.

Years of dreaming.

Then Jannik leaves one short.

Oscar sees his chance.

He steps forward and unloads a forehand into the open court.

Time slows.

Jannik explodes into a sprint.

The crowd disappears.

The noise disappears.

There is only the ball.

Jannik reaches it at full stretch and somehow gets his racket on it.

The ball sails over the net.

For a split second Oscar’s heart stops.

Then it keeps drifting.

Further.

Out.

The stadium explodes.

Oscar stands frozen for a moment, unable to believe it.

Then the realization hits him.

He’s done it.

His first Grand Slam.

The Australian Open champion.

The youngest player in history to complete a Career Grand Slam.

Relief crashes over him.

He raises one finger into the air.

Number one.

The crowd roars even louder.

Oscar lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and walks to the net.

Jannik is already waiting for him.

They clasp hands.

“You played unbelievable, mate,” Jannik says with a grin. “Can’t wait to beat you next time.”

Oscar laughs.

“In your dreams, Jannik.”

Both men smile.

Oscar walked towards the courtside interview area, the Australian Open trophy tucked under one arm.

The crowd erupted as he appeared on the giant screens.

The interviewer smiled.

“There he is! The Australian Open champion and now the youngest player in history to complete a Career Grand Slam at just twenty-two years old. Oscar, first of all, how are you feeling right now?”

Oscar looked out across Rod Laver Arena, still struggling to process what had happened.

“Honestly? It still doesn’t feel real,” he admitted with a small laugh. “I’ve dreamed about this since I was a kid. I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet. But mostly I’m just grateful. There have been so many people supporting me for years and I wouldn’t be standing here without them.”

The crowd applauded.

The interviewer nodded.

“You’ve had an incredible rise. Three years ago you were the new kid taking the tennis world by storm. Everybody remembers when you beat Novak Djokovic at nineteen years old and walked off court like it was just another Tuesday.”

Laughter rippled through the stadium.

“Since then you’ve been called ‘The Ice Man.’ Some people even say you’re emotionless. What do you think about that?”

Oscar smirked.

“I think people confuse composure with emotion.”

The crowd cheered.

“I’m not a robot. I get nervous. I get excited. I get scared. I feel everything everyone else does.”

He shrugged.

“I’ve just learned not to let those feelings control me.”

More applause followed.

The interviewer grinned.

“Fair enough. Last question.”

The crowd quietened.

“Your family has played a huge role in your career. You moved halfway across the world at fourteen to chase this dream. Now you’re back home, holding the Australian Open trophy. How are you going to celebrate?”

Oscar glanced towards the players’ box.

His mother was crying.

His sisters looked like they were seconds away from jumping onto the court.

A smile softened his usually calm expression.

“First I’ll go thank my family.”

The crowd applauded.

“My mum and my sisters sacrificed so much to get me here.”

He paused.

“I’ll thank Mark Webber too. He’s taught me more than he’ll ever know.”

The interviewer nodded.

A perfectly normal answer.

Then Oscar continued.

“And after that…”

His smile widened slightly.

“And after that, I’ll go home to my boyfriend.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

For one long second Rod Laver Arena seemed to forget how to breathe.

The interviewer froze.

The crowd froze.

Even Oscar looked mildly surprised by the reaction.

Then the stadium exploded.

Gasps.

Cheers.

Shouting.

Thousands of voices all speaking at once.

The interviewer blinked twice.

“Your… boyfriend?”

A grin tugged at Oscar’s lips.

“Yeah.”

The noise somehow got louder.

Social media teams were already scrambling.

Commentators stared at each other.

Millions of people watching around the world were doing exactly the same thing.

The interviewer laughed in disbelief.

“Well that wasn’t the answer I was expecting.”

Neither was anyone else.

For years the media had speculated about Oscar Piastri’s private life.

There had never been rumours.

Never been photographs.

Never been hints.

Nothing.

The most famous tennis player in the world had somehow kept an entire relationship secret.

Reporters were already flooding towards the interview area.

Questions came flying from every direction.

“Oscar!”

“How long have you been together?”

“Who is he?”

“Is he here tonight?”

“Has anyone known about this?”

Oscar simply picked up his trophy.

The same calm expression that had earned him the nickname Ice Man returned to his face.

The interviewer tried one last time.

“Oscar, care to tell us anything about this mystery boyfriend?”

Oscar adjusted his grip on the trophy.

“No further comment.”

The crowd erupted into laughter.

With that, he turned and walked away.

Leaving behind a Grand Slam trophy, a stunned tennis world, and about a million unanswered questions.

As soon as Oscar escaped the swarm of reporters and flashing cameras, there was only one place he wanted to be.

His family.

The moment he spotted his mother standing near the players’ entrance, tears streaming down her face, his exhaustion melted away. All the pressure, all the years of training, all the sacrifices that had led to this moment suddenly felt worth it.

A smile spread across his face.

“Hey, Mama,” he said softly.

His mother let out a sob and practically ran towards him.

Before he could react, she threw her arms around him, holding him tighter than she ever had before.

Oscar laughed, wrapping his own arms around her.

“I’m so, so, so proud of you, Oscar. You have no idea,” she cried into his shoulder. “You did it. You actually did it.”

For a moment Oscar couldn’t find any words. He simply held her, allowing himself to finally feel everything he had been pushing aside throughout the tournament.

“I love you, Mama,” he whispered.

His sisters quickly joined them, surrounding him in a group hug.

“We knew you’d do it!” one of them exclaimed.

“You literally made history!”

“You had me crying through the entire final set!”

Oscar rolled his eyes, laughing.

“You guys are impossible.”

But he couldn’t stop smiling.

For the first time all day, there were no cameras, no journalists, no expectations.

Just family.

Just home.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The celebrations lasted well into the evening before Oscar finally returned to his childhood home.

The house looked exactly as he remembered it.

The same driveway.

The same front garden.

The same squeaky floorboards that greeted him when he stepped inside.

As he climbed the stairs, his hand brushed against the framed family photos lining the hallway.

Photos from school.

Family holidays.

Junior tennis tournaments.

A younger version of himself smiling proudly while holding trophies that had once felt enormous.

Back then, becoming a Grand Slam champion had seemed impossible.

Now he was one.

Oscar pushed open the door to his childhood bedroom.

Nothing had changed.

The walls were still decorated with old tennis posters.

The shelves were crowded with medals and trophies from his junior years.

His desk sat in the corner exactly where he had left it.

For a moment he simply stood there, taking it all in.

This room had witnessed every dream.

Every disappointment.

Every late-night promise that one day he would make it.

And somehow, he had.

Oscar kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed.

The mattress felt smaller than he remembered.

The ceiling looked exactly the same.

A tired smile tugged at his lips.

He had won a Grand Slam.

He had made history.

He had survived the media storm.

And for the first time in months, there was absolutely nothing left for him to do.

Within minutes, his eyes drifted closed.

The last thing he felt was contentment.

Then sleep claimed him.

A deep, dreamless sleep.

⸻

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains.

Oscar groaned and buried his face in his pillow.

For a few seconds he forgot where he was.

Then everything came rushing back.

The final.

The trophy.

The celebration.

The press conference.

His boyfriend.

His eyes widened.

“Oh no.”

Reaching for his phone on the bedside table, he unlocked it.

The screen immediately exploded with notifications.

Thousands.

Messages from friends.

Messages from fellow players.

Missed calls.

Social media mentions.

News alerts.

His phone was practically vibrating itself off the table.

Oscar blinked.

“What the hell?”

Curious, he opened a news app.

Instantly, dozens of headlines filled the screen.

OSCAR PIASTRI BECOMES YOUNGEST GRAND SLAM CHAMPION IN HISTORY

THE NEW FACE OF TENNIS: HOW PIASTRI CONQUERED THE SPORT AT JUST 22

‘EMOTIONLESS’ NO MORE: OSCAR PIASTRI’S PASSIONATE RESPONSE SILENCES CRITICS

PIASTRI’S HISTORIC VICTORY BREAKS RECORDS ACROSS THE TENNIS WORLD

THE MATCH OF THE DECADE? FANS PRAISE PIASTRI-SINNER FINAL

Oscar scrolled further.

Then he froze.

The next headline nearly made him choke.

OSCAR PIASTRI REVEALS HE HAS A BOYFRIEND DURING GRAND SLAM CELEBRATION

Another.

WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI’S MYSTERY BOYFRIEND? INTERNET DEMANDS ANSWERS

Another.

FANS CONVINCED JANNIK SINNER IS OSCAR PIASTRI’S SECRET PARTNER

Oscar slowly lowered his phone.

“…Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He opened social media.

That was a mistake.

The internet had completely lost its mind.

Millions of people were analyzing every interaction he had ever had with Sinner.

Every handshake.

Every hug.

Every smile.

Every press conference.

There were entire threads dedicated to proving they had secretly been together for years.

Oscar buried his face in his hands.

One day.

It had taken less than one day.

He clicked on one article intrested in what they were saying.

YOUNGEST GRAND SLAM WINNER OSCAR PIASTRI SHOCKS THE WORLD WITH HISTORIC VICTORY — AND A SURPRISE RELATIONSHIP REVEAL

Melbourne, February 1st, 2026 — Tennis history was made today as 22-year-old Australian star Oscar Piastri became the youngest player ever to complete a Career Grand Slam, cementing his place among the sport’s greatest talents after a breathtaking victory over longtime rival Jannik Sinner.

In front of a sold-out crowd and millions watching around the world, Piastri delivered one of the most memorable performances in recent tennis history. The championship match, which lasted nearly five hours, saw both players push each other to their absolute limits in a contest many commentators are already calling one of the greatest Grand Slam finals ever played.

The final set alone had spectators on the edge of their seats. With neither player willing to surrender an inch of ground, the match reached a tense deadlock. Every rally seemed impossible to top until another somehow surpassed it. The atmosphere inside the stadium was electric as fans witnessed two of tennis’s brightest stars battle for history.

The defining moment came during a breathtaking rally that lasted over thirty shots. Both players chased down seemingly impossible returns before Piastri unleashed a perfectly placed forehand winner into the corner of the court. As the ball landed inside the line, the crowd erupted.

For a brief moment, Piastri simply stood frozen, staring at the court in disbelief before dropping his racket and raising his hands to his face. Years of dedication, sacrifice, and pressure had finally culminated in the achievement of a lifetime.

The victory makes Piastri the youngest player ever to win all four Grand Slam titles, a feat that many believed would stand untouched for decades.

A Different Side of Oscar Piastri

While the championship itself dominated headlines, it was Piastri’s post-match press conference that quickly became one of the most talked-about moments of the day.

Throughout his career, Piastri has often been criticized by sections of the media for appearing reserved and emotionally distant. The Australian has earned a reputation for keeping his feelings private, leading some commentators to label him “emotionless” despite his consistent success on court.

However, following today’s victory, fans witnessed a completely different side of the tennis champion.

When asked how he planned to celebrate his historic achievement, Piastri smiled before answering:

“First I’ll spend some time with my family. They’ve sacrificed so much for me to be here and I wouldn’t be standing here without them.”

The answer appeared straightforward enough until he added one final sentence that immediately stunned reporters in the room.

“And after that, I’ll go home to my boyfriend.”

With those seven words, Piastri casually revealed for the first time that he is in a relationship.

The comment was delivered so naturally and confidently that many reporters appeared momentarily caught off guard. Before further questions could be asked, Piastri thanked the media, stepped away from the podium, and left the press conference wearing one of the biggest smiles seen from him all tournament.

Internet Explodes with Speculation

Within minutes, social media platforms were flooded with reactions.

Fans praised Piastri for the casual and unapologetic nature of his announcement, while others immediately began speculating about the identity of his boyfriend.

One theory rapidly gained traction online: that Piastri may be dating fellow tennis superstar and longtime rival Jannik Sinner.

The pair have shared a fierce yet highly respected rivalry over recent years, facing each other multiple times in major tournaments. Their close friendship off the court has often attracted attention from fans, leading to years of speculation that there might be more to their relationship than either player publicly acknowledged.

Clips of the pair laughing together during practice sessions, embracing after matches, and supporting each other during difficult moments quickly resurfaced across social media.

Neither Piastri nor Sinner has commented on the rumors.

A Day That Will Be Remembered

For now, however, the focus remains on Piastri’s historic achievement.

At just 22 years old, he has already accomplished what many players spend entire careers chasing. The Australian leaves Melbourne not only as a Grand Slam champion but as a record-breaker who continues to redefine what is possible in modern tennis.

Whether the mystery surrounding his relationship is eventually answered or not, one thing is certain: February 1st, 2021 will be remembered as the day Oscar Piastri changed tennis history forever.

And judging by the smile he wore as he left the stage, the trophy may not have been the only reason he was looking forward to going home.

After reading what felt like the hundredth article about himself, Oscar’s phone suddenly lit up.

Baby ❤️

For half a second he stared at the screen.

Then he accepted the call so quickly he nearly dropped the phone.

“Hey bab-”

“Oscar Jack Goddamn Piastri.”

Oscar winced.

“Oh. That’s not good.”

He could practically hear the glare through the phone.

Oscar swallowed.

“Yes, darling?”

There was a pause.

Then his boyfriend sighed.

“Okay, first of all, I love you. Secondly, congratulations. I still can’t believe you won yesterday.”

Oscar smiled despite himself.

“Thank-”

“Nope. Not finished.”

Oscar groaned.

His boyfriend continued anyway.

“I watched every single second of that match. Every serve, every point, every rally. Four hours, Oscar. Four. Hours. I was practically having heart palpitations.”

Oscar laughed.

“You survived.”

“Barely.”

A smile crept into his boyfriend’s voice.

“You were incredible. Seriously. The whole world saw how good you are yesterday, but I’ve known that for years.”

Oscar felt warmth spread through his chest.

“I love you.”

“I know. Still not finished.”

“Of course not.”

“You win the biggest title of your life, become the youngest Grand Slam champion in history, casually break the internet, and then disappear.”

“I was sleeping!”

“You ignored sixty-two calls.”

“It was sixty?”

“Sixty-two.”

“That’s excessive.”

“I was worried!”

Oscar rubbed a hand down his face.

“Sorry.”

His boyfriend huffed.

“I even had your sister texting me updates because apparently you’re incapable of answering your phone.”

“Traitor.”

“She agrees with me.”

Oscar could hear him smiling.

Then the tone of the conversation shifted.

The laughter faded.

“Oscar.”

“Hm?”

“When you said it…”

“Said what?”

There was silence.

Then:

“And after that I’ll go home to my boyfriend.”

Oscar froze.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

His boyfriend laughed nervously.

“I nearly dropped my phone.”

“I didn’t exactly plan it.”

“I know.”

“I just…”

Oscar searched for the words.

“The question came up and I was happy.”

His boyfriend was quiet.

“I wasn’t thinking about headlines or reporters or sponsors. I was thinking about you.”

The silence that followed felt heavier.

Softer.

“I cried, you know,” his boyfriend admitted.

Oscar blinked.

“You cried?”

“You won a Grand Slam and then told the entire world I exist.”

“Oh.”

“Shut up.”

A smile tugged at Oscar’s lips.

“I mean it.”

The athlete on the other end of the phone exhaled slowly.

“Hey?” Lando said.

“Yeah?”

“Come home.”

A pause.

Then a smile spread across Oscar’s face.

“Already booked the flight, idiot.”

Long before the Grand Slam victory.

Long before the headlines.

Long before the entire world started trying to figure out who Oscar Piastri’s mystery boyfriend was.

There was a small café in Melbourne.

And a very lucky coincidence.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A year and a half earlier, Oscar had been enjoying one of the rare things fame hadn’t completely taken from him yet.

A quiet morning.

No cameras.

No interviews.

No training schedule for a few hours.

Just a cup of coffee and a book.

The café was small and tucked away from the busier parts of the city. It wasn’t usually crowded, but that morning every table seemed occupied.

Oscar was halfway through his coffee when he heard a voice beside him.

“Hey, uh… sorry to bother you. Can I sit here? Everything else is taken.”

Oscar looked up.

And promptly forgot how to function.

Standing in front of him was one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen.

Messy brown curls.

Bright eyes.

A nervous smile.

For a second Oscar genuinely forgot the question.

The stranger laughed awkwardly.

“That’s either a yes or a very aggressive no.”

Oscar nearly choked.

“Right! Sorry. Yes. Of course. You can sit here.”

“Thanks.”

The man slid into the chair opposite him.

Oscar tried very hard not to stare.

He failed.

Spectacularly.

The stranger noticed immediately.

A grin spread across his face.

“Hi. I’m Lando.”

Oscar blinked.

“Oscar.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Oscar.”

“You too.”

Neither of them expected the conversation to last longer than a few minutes.

Instead, two hours passed.

Then three.

They talked about everything.

Travel.

Food.

Childhood stories.

Embarrassing moments.

Favorite movies.

The places they wanted to visit someday.

Oscar couldn’t remember the last time talking to someone had felt so easy.

Lando laughed at all of his jokes.

Even the terrible ones.

Especially the terrible ones.

By the time their cups were empty, Oscar found himself hoping the conversation wouldn’t end.

Apparently Lando felt the same.

Eventually Lando glanced at the time and groaned.

“I should probably go.”

Oscar’s stomach dropped.

“Oh.”

Lando smiled.

“Unless you’d rather get rid of me.”

“No.”

The answer came far too quickly.

Lando’s smile widened.

“No?”

Oscar could feel himself blushing.

“No.”

“Good.”

Lando pulled out his phone and slid it across the table.

“Give me your number.”

Oscar stared at him.

“That wasn’t a question.”

“Nope.”

Laughing, Oscar entered his contact information.

A few moments later Lando handed the phone back.

“I’d like to talk to you again.”

Oscar smiled.

“Yeah.”

His cheeks warmed.

“Me too.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Later that evening Oscar’s phone buzzed.

A new message.

Lando ☕️

Hey.

I had a really nice time with you today.

Maybe we could do it again sometime?

Oscar smiled immediately.

Before he could answer, another message appeared.

There is something I should probably tell you first though.

I don’t think you’ve heard of me because you seemed completely clueless at the café.

I’m actually a Formula One driver.

Oscar stared at the message.

Then burst out laughing.

He quickly typed a reply.

Hey.

I had a really nice time too.

And yes, I’d love to meet again.

Also, this is hilarious because I’m actually a professional tennis player.

So I guess we’re kind of in the same boat.

Several dots appeared instantly.

Then:

No way.

You’re kidding.

Nope.

Well that’s embarrassing.

Why?

Because I was sitting there thinking you were the only normal person I’d met in months.

Oscar laughed so hard he nearly dropped his phone.

That conversation lasted until almost three in the morning.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

One date became two.

Two became five.

Five became countless dinners, coffee dates, late-night phone calls, and stolen weekends whenever their schedules aligned.

Being athletes meant they were constantly travelling.

Sometimes they only saw each other for a few days every month.

But somehow it worked.

Oscar would wake up to good-morning texts.

Lando would stay awake through ridiculous time zones just to call him after matches.

Neither of them had ever met someone who understood the pressure of being constantly watched by the world.

The expectations.

The criticism.

The loneliness.

They understood each other in a way very few people could.

And slowly, without either of them realizing it, they fell hopelessly in love.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Three months after they met, Lando invited Oscar to a quiet beach outside Melbourne.

The sun was setting.

The shoreline was empty.

For once there were no fans.

No reporters.

No cameras.

Just the two of them.

Lando had been nervous all evening.

Oscar noticed immediately.

“You okay?”

“Maybe.”

“Lando.”

“Okay, no.”

Oscar laughed.

“What is it?”

Lando took a deep breath.

Then another.

Then he looked directly at Oscar.

“I really like you.”

Oscar smiled.

“I really like you too.”

“No, let me finish.”

The Formula One driver looked more nervous than he ever had before a race.

“I’ve liked you since the café.”

Oscar felt his heart skip.

“And?”

“And I was wondering if maybe…”

Lando swallowed.

“Maybe you’d want to be my boyfriend.”

For a moment Oscar simply stared.

Then he broke into the biggest smile Lando had ever seen.

“Seriously?”

“Please don’t make me repeat that.”

Oscar laughed.

Then stepped closer.

“Yes.”

Lando blinked.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

The relief on Lando’s face was immediate.

A second later he pulled Oscar into a hug.

The first of many.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

From that day on they were inseparable.

At least privately.

Publicly, things were different.

After long discussions, they agreed to keep their relationship secret.

Not because they were ashamed.

Never because of that.

But because they were both among the biggest athletes in the world.

Every aspect of their lives was scrutinized.

A public relationship could attract endless media attention, affect sponsorships, and create pressure neither of them wanted.

So they kept it between themselves.

Their families knew.

Their managers knew.

Nobody else.

For a year and a half, the secret remained perfectly safe.

Until Oscar Piastri won a Grand Slam.

And accidentally told the entire world he had a boyfriend.

Their worlds were surprisingly different.

On paper, they had everything in common.

Both were world-class athletes.

Both spent most of the year travelling.

Both lived under constant scrutiny.

Both knew what it felt like to have millions of people judging every success and every mistake.

Yet the environments they worked in couldn’t have been more different.

Oscar’s world was quiet concentration, endless practice sessions, and hours spent alone on a court.

Lando’s world was roaring engines, crowded paddocks, flashing cameras, and race weekends that never seemed to stop moving.

And somehow, despite all those differences, they worked.

Maybe because they understood each other in ways nobody else could.

Or maybe because home was never really a place anymore.

It was a person.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After what felt like the longest flight of his life, Oscar finally arrived in Monaco.

His body ached from travelling.

His eyes burned from lack of sleep.

The excitement of winning a Grand Slam had finally worn off, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion.

And one overwhelming desire.

To see Lando.

Oscar stepped out of the elevator and walked down the familiar hallway.

The apartment door stood exactly where it always had.

For a moment he found himself smiling.

Technically, it wasn’t his apartment.

At least not officially.

He still owned his own place.

Still paid for it.

Still had clothes there.

Probably.

But somewhere over the past year and a half, things had changed.

He spent nearly every night here.

Every off-week here.

Every holiday here.

Without either of them really discussing it, Lando’s apartment had quietly become home.

Oscar pulled out his keys and unlocked the door.

The familiar scent immediately greeted him.

Coffee.

Books.

Lando’s expensive candles.

Home.

The apartment looked lived in.

Not the sterile perfection of magazine photos.

The shelves overflowed with books.

Pictures covered the walls.

Photos from holidays.

Photos from family gatherings.

Photos of Oscar and Lando that would never see social media.

A life built behind closed doors.

Near the living room stood a large trophy cabinet.

Oscar’s lips twitched.

At first glance it looked chaotic.

Tennis trophies sat beside Formula One trophies.

Grand Slam titles squeezed between race-winning trophies.

A world champion’s achievements mixed seamlessly with a tennis champion’s.

Somewhere along the way neither of them had bothered separating them anymore.

They simply belonged together.

Just like everything else in the apartment.

The sound of footsteps suddenly echoed through the hallway.

Then another.

Then running.

Oscar barely had time to look up.

“Lando-”

A second later a curly-haired missile launched itself at him.

Oscar staggered backwards as Lando crashed into his chest.

“Hey there, youngest Grand Slam winner ever.”

Lando immediately began showering his face with kisses.

His forehead.

His cheeks.

His nose.

Everywhere.

Oscar laughed for what felt like the first time in days.

“Hey, Lan.”

God.

He’d missed him.

Lando pulled back just enough to look at him.

His eyes were bright.

A little watery.

A huge smile stretched across his face.

“I can’t believe you actually did it.”

Oscar rolled his eyes.

“You’re acting like I climbed Mount Everest.”

“You basically did.”

Lando kissed him again.

“I am ridiculously proud of you.”

Oscar felt warmth spread through his chest.

Winning the tournament had been incredible.

The trophy had been incredible.

The headlines had been incredible.

But somehow hearing it from Lando meant more.

Because Lando understood.

He understood what it took to become the best.

The sacrifices.

The pressure.

The expectations.

The loneliness.

He understood every second of the journey.

“I missed you,” Oscar admitted quietly.

Lando’s smile softened.

“I missed you too.”

His hands slid into Oscar’s.

“I wanted to be there.”

Oscar knew.

Formula One testing had kept Lando halfway across the world.

The timing couldn’t have been worse.

“I know.”

Lando looked genuinely disappointed.

“I watched every point though.”

“Every point?”

“Every single one.”

Oscar laughed.

“It was four hours.”

“I know.”

“You’re insane.”

“Says the man who spent four hours hitting a tiny yellow ball.”

Oscar couldn’t argue with that.

For a moment they simply stood there, enjoying being together again.

No cameras.

No reporters.

No speculation.

Just them.

Then Oscar suddenly wrapped his arms around Lando’s waist.

Lando barely had time to yelp before Oscar lifted him completely off the floor.

“Oscar!”

“I’ve spent ten hours on a plane.”

“Put me down.”

“No.”

“You’re impossible.”

Oscar grinned.

“And you’re light.”

“Rude.”

Ignoring the protests, Oscar carried him across the apartment and dropped onto the couch with Lando still securely trapped in his arms.

Lando immediately curled against him.

Like he belonged there.

Like he’d done it a thousand times before.

Maybe because he had.

For the first time since the final, Oscar felt himself fully relax.

The world could wait.

The headlines could wait.

The questions could wait.

Right now there was only Lando.

And after everything that had happened, that was exactly where Oscar wanted to be.

They both immediately fell asleep listening to eachothers breathing.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Oscar woke slowly to the unmistakable smell of freshly cooked pancakes and crispy bacon drifting through the apartment. For a moment he stayed buried beneath the blankets, eyes still closed, enjoying the warmth of the bed and the comforting scent filling the air.

Then reality caught up with him.

Lando was making breakfast.

A smile instantly tugged at his lips.

Oscar finally opened his eyes and stretched lazily before climbing out of bed. Running a hand through his messy hair, he made his way toward the kitchen.

The sight that greeted him made his smile grow even wider.

Music echoed softly through the apartment while Lando moved around the kitchen with surprising energy for someone who had been awake for hours already. He was flipping pancakes with one hand and dancing terribly with the other, completely absorbed in the song playing from the speaker.

Oscar leaned against the doorway for a moment just watching him.

God, how did I get this lucky?

The thought came naturally.

Not long ago he would never have imagined waking up beside someone like Lando Norris.

Someone who somehow managed to be both chaotic and caring at the exact same time.

Someone who looked ridiculously attractive while making breakfast.

Unable to resist, Oscar walked across the room and wrapped his arms around Lando’s waist from behind.

Lando let out a surprised noise.

Oscar buried his face into the crook of his neck and sighed contently.

“Good morning, baby.”

Lando immediately relaxed into the embrace.

“Well, look who finally decided to join the living world,” he teased, laughing softly.

Oscar rolled his eyes.

“I was sleeping.”

“It was nearly eleven.”

“I was resting.”

“That’s not better.”

Oscar laughed and pressed a kiss against Lando’s shoulder.

“Smells amazing.”

“I know.”

The confidence in Lando’s voice earned him a snort.

“You haven’t even let me taste it yet.”

“I don’t need to. I’m just that good.”

“Your modesty is truly inspiring.”

Lando’s laughter filled the kitchen.

“Go get dressed before breakfast gets cold.”

Oscar reluctantly let go and headed back toward the bedroom.

A few minutes later he had changed into a simple black shirt and jeans. Just as he was reaching for his watch, his phone began vibrating on the bedside table.

The caller ID made him grin immediately.

Jannik Sinner.

Oscar accepted the call.

“Well, hello there. The man. The myth. The Oscar Piastri.”

Oscar laughed.

“Morning to you too.”

“Have you recovered from becoming the internet’s favourite mystery man?”

Oscar shook his head.

“Not this again.”

“Oh, we’re absolutely doing this again.”

Jannik sounded far too entertained.

Oscar sat down on the edge of the bed.

“How about we talk about your tennis instead?”

“Nice attempt. Not happening.”

“Still recovering from your loss?”

A dramatic sigh came through the phone.

“I called to support a friend and somehow I’m the victim here.”

“Tragic.”

“Anyway,” Jannik continued, “apparently you’ve broken the internet.”

Oscar groaned.

The speculation had exploded far beyond what he had expected.

Photos.

Rumours.

Conspiracy theories.

People analysing every interaction he’d had over the last six months.

The internet truly had too much free time.

“I’ve seen some of it.”

“Some of it?” Jannik scoffed. “I’ve seen people making entire timelines.”

Oscar laughed.

“People are dedicated.”

“Dedicated is one word for it.”

There was a brief pause.

“So,” Jannik said casually.

“No.”

“I didn’t even ask anything.”

“You were about to.”

“Fine. Who is it?”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“Best friend privilege.”

“Still no.”

“Rude.”

Oscar grinned.

“Very.”

Jannik sighed dramatically.

“You know, I’ve even seen people speculating we’re dating.”

Oscar burst out laughing.

“Yeah, I’ve seen those.”

“It’s honestly revolting.”

“That’s harsh.”

“I’m just saying I can do better.”

Oscar nearly choked.

“In your dreams.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

They spent another ten minutes talking about press, tennis, mutual friends, and the ridiculous rumours circulating online before eventually ending the call.

The moment Oscar walked back toward the kitchen, Lando pointed a spatula at him.

“Sit.”

Oscar obeyed immediately.

“Yes, chef.”

“Good.”

A few minutes later two plates landed on the dining table.

Stacks of pancakes.

Crispy bacon.

Fresh fruit.

Coffee.

Oscar looked genuinely impressed.

“You know, if racing doesn’t work out, you’ve got options.”

Lando sat opposite him.

“I’ll remember that.”

The first bite nearly made Oscar melt.

“Wow.”

Lando looked far too pleased with himself.

“I know.”

Oscar pointed his fork at him.

“No seriously.”

Another bite.

“You’re amazing, Lan.”

The words came out slightly muffled by pancake.

Lando immediately looked away, cheeks turning pink.

Oscar smiled to himself.

Even after everything, he still loved how easy it was to make Lando blush.

They ate comfortably, chatting about random things between bites.

Eventually Oscar looked up.

“So, what’s your schedule today?”

Lando swallowed his coffee.

“Training in about an hour.”

Oscar nodded.

“And then?”

“Simulator work.”

He made a face.

“Hours and hours of simulator work.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It’s not.”

Oscar laughed.

“What about you?”

Oscar leaned back in his chair.

“I need groceries.”

“Thrilling.”

“I know.”

“And?”

Oscar smirked.

“Some damage control.”

Lando immediately started laughing.

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

After finishing breakfast they cleaned up together.

Well, technically Lando cleaned while Oscar dried dishes and got distracted three separate times.

Eventually Lando checked the time and groaned.

“I should go.”

Oscar followed him toward the front door.

Lando grabbed his bag before turning around.

“See you later?”

Oscar stepped closer.

“Definitely.”

Lando smiled.

Oscar kissed him quickly.

“Have fun at training.”

“I won’t.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Debatable.”

Oscar laughed as Lando headed out the door.

A few moments later the apartment fell quiet.

After a few minutes he decided he couldn’t avoid the grocery trip any longer.

Grabbing his phone, wallet, and keys, he left the apartment.

The elevator ride down was uneventful.

By the time he reached the lobby his phone was already pressed against his ear.

His media trainer had called.

“…I’m just saying the speculation isn’t slowing down,” the woman on the other end explained.

Oscar pushed through the hotel entrance and stepped outside.

Bright sunlight reflected off nearby buildings.

People moved along the sidewalks.

The city was busy as usual.

“Do we actually need to address it?” Oscar asked.

“That’s your decision.”

He nodded absentmindedly.

“So far we’ve said nothing.”

“And saying nothing is also a statement.”

Oscar considered that while crossing the pavement.

He was so focused on the conversation that he barely noticed several people recognising him as he passed.

A couple of phones were already pointed in his direction.

Photos being taken.

Videos recording.

Whispers following him.

Oscar remained completely unaware.

His attention was fixed entirely on the call.

“Let’s monitor things for another day or two,” he said.

“That sounds reasonable.”

“Perfect.”

The call continued as he approached the parking area.

Sitting proudly among the other vehicles was his McLaren Senna.

Oscar couldn’t help smiling.

No matter how many times he drove it, the car still felt special.

He ended the call, slipped his phone into his pocket, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

The engine roared to life.

A familiar sound.

A familiar feeling.

As he pulled away from the hotel and headed toward the shops, he had absolutely no idea that the internet was about to make his day significantly more complicated.

By the time Oscar finally got home, he was exhausted.

Between the grocery shopping, the endless calls with his media team, and the constant speculation online, his social battery was completely drained.

The apartment was quiet.

Lando was still at training.

Oscar kicked off his shoes, dropped his keys onto the kitchen counter, and collapsed onto the couch.

His original plan had been simple.

Close his eyes for ten minutes.

Maybe twenty.

Then he’d unpack the groceries, answer a few emails, and figure out what to make for dinner.

Easy.

Unfortunately for him, life had other plans.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The aggressive buzzing of his phone dragged him out of sleep.

Oscar groaned.

His head felt heavy as he blinked against the afternoon sunlight streaming through the apartment windows.

Buzz.

His phone was vibrating nonstop on the coffee table.

“What the…”

Oscar sat up slowly.

His neck hurt.

Apparently his ten-minute nap had somehow turned into nearly three hours.

The phone continued vibrating.

Oscar reached over and grabbed it.

The second the screen lit up, his stomach dropped.

127 unread messages.

46 missed calls.

89 notifications.

Oscar stared at the screen.

“What happened?”

His eyes scanned the names.

Jannik

Dude, you’re dating a Formula 1 driver?!

Jannik

Actually don’t answer that.

Jannik

WAIT ANSWER THAT.

Baby ❤️

Oscar please call me.

Baby ❤️

Please tell me you’ve seen this.

Baby ❤️

Oscar I don’t know what to do.

Baby ❤️

Call me.

Mark Webber

Oscar.

Mark Webber

Call me immediately.

Mark Webber

We have a problem.

Oscar sat upright instantly.

His pulse began climbing.

If Mark Webber was texting like that, something had gone very, very wrong.

More messages continued appearing in real time.

Charles Leclerc

Well this is interesting.

George Russell

The internet is losing its mind.

Daniel Ricciardo

HAHAHAHAHAHA

Daniel Ricciardo

Call me.

Oscar rubbed a hand over his face.

“What the hell happened?”

His thumb moved quickly through the notifications until one headline caught his attention.

The source of the chaos.

His heart stopped.

GRAND SLAM WINNER OSCAR PIASTRI SPOTTED LEAVING THE SAME APARTMENT BUILDING AS FORMULA 1 STAR LANDO NORRIS.

Oscar clicked it.

The article immediately loaded.

⸻

SPORTS WORLD SHOCKED AS OSCAR PIASTRI’S MYSTERY BOYFRIEND MAY HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED

For days, fans have been attempting to solve one of sport’s biggest mysteries.

Who is Oscar Piastri dating?

The Australian superstar stunned the sporting world earlier this week after winning his first Australian Open title and becoming the youngest Grand Slam champion in modern history.

During a post-match interview, Piastri unexpectedly revealed that he was in a relationship.

“And after that, I’ll go home to my boyfriend.” He said with a smile.

The internet immediately launched into detective mode.

Since then, fans have spent hours analyzing interviews, social media activity, travel schedules, and public appearances in an attempt to identify the mystery man.

Today, however, that mystery may finally have been solved.

Earlier this morning, a fan staying at a luxury apartment complex in Monaco captured photos of both Oscar Piastri and Formula 1 driver Lando Norris leaving the same building within minutes of one another.

The photos, which have already accumulated millions of views across multiple social media platforms, show Norris exiting the building at approximately 10:57 a.m.

Just seven minutes later, Piastri was photographed leaving the exact same entrance.

While this alone does not confirm a relationship, many fans believe it is the strongest piece of evidence so far.

Adding fuel to the speculation are several details fans have spent months collecting.

Among them:

• Both athletes have repeatedly been spotted in the same cities despite having unrelated schedules.

• Fans have noted suspicious similarities between backgrounds in social media posts.

• Multiple photographs appear to show the pair wearing identical bracelets.

• Both have disappeared from social media during the same weekends on several occasions.

• Piastri has attended several Formula 1 races outside of his own professional commitments.

Within minutes of the photos being posted, #OscarAndLando became the number one trending topic worldwide.

Several prominent athletes have also reacted.

Neither Piastri nor Norris has issued a statement.

Representatives for both athletes have declined to comment.

However, many fans believe today’s photographs may have finally solved the mystery.

One thing is certain:

The internet has officially lost its mind.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Oscar stared at the screen in horror.

The article kept going.

There were photographs.

Analysis.

Timelines.

Entire sections dedicated to fan theories.

Someone had literally created a map.

A map.

Showing every city the two of them had visited over the past year.

Oscar felt a headache forming.

“Oh my God.”

His phone immediately started ringing.

Baby ❤️

Oscar didn’t hesitate.

He answered instantly.

“Lando?”

The relief in Lando’s voice was immediate.

“Thank God.”

Oscar buried his face in his hands.

“You’ve seen it?”

“I’ve seen all of it.”

There was a brief silence.

Then:

“They made a map, Oscar.”

“I KNOW.”

“They tracked our flights.”

“I KNOW.”

“They found the matching bracelets.”

Oscar groaned.

“I KNOW.”

Another pause.

Then Lando started laughing.

Oscar blinked.

“What?”

“They actually figured it out.”

“Lando.”

“I’m serious.”

Oscar could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“They genuinely figured it out.”

“We are in the middle of a media disaster.”

“They made a map.”

Oscar couldn’t believe him.

“This isn’t funny.”

“It kind of is.”

Oscar fell backwards onto the couch.

His phone immediately buzzed again.

Another call.

His PR manager.

Then another.

McLaren communications.

Then another.

His agent.

Oscar looked at the ceiling.

Today had been going so well.

Then the internet happened.

And somehow everything was about to get a whole lot worse.

Oscar stared at his phone for several seconds after ending the call with Lando.

The article was still open on his screen.

Every time he refreshed the page, there seemed to be another update.

More photos.

More theories.

More speculation.

More people trying to piece together a life that neither he nor Lando had ever intended to share with the world.

His phone started ringing again.

This time he didn’t need to look at the caller ID.

Mark Webber.

Oscar accepted the call.

“Hello, mate.”

Mark’s voice was calm, professional, and reassuring as always.

“Hi, Mark.”

There was a brief pause.

“I’m guessing you’ve seen everything?”

Oscar let out a dry laugh.

“Unfortunately.”

“Right.”

Mark sighed.

“Listen, before this gets any bigger, we need to talk strategy.”

Oscar leaned back against the couch cushions.

Outside, the afternoon sun was beginning to disappear behind the buildings across the street.

The apartment suddenly felt very quiet.

“I’m listening.”

“I know this isn’t ideal,” Mark said carefully. “And I know there’s a lot of pressure right now. But my advice is simple.”

Oscar already knew what was coming.

“No comment?”

“Exactly.”

Mark continued.

“The story is moving quickly because people don’t have answers. The second you give them one, they’ll want ten more.”

Oscar rubbed a hand over his face.

“You think it’ll die down?”

“Eventually.”

The hesitation before the word eventually wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“But only if we don’t add fuel to it.”

Oscar looked back at the article.

Millions of views.

Thousands of comments.

His name and Lando’s name plastered together everywhere.

The whole situation felt surreal.

Just yesterday they had been making pancakes and teasing each other over breakfast.

Now half the internet was convinced they’d uncovered some enormous secret.

“I understand.”

“I’m not telling you what to do,” Mark added. “At the end of the day it’s your life. But professionally speaking, my advice is to stay quiet.”

Oscar nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Can you do that?”

Oscar took a deep breath.

“I can.”

“Good.”

Mark’s voice softened slightly.

“And Oscar?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to read the comments.”

Oscar laughed despite himself.

“I’ll do my best.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

The conversation wrapped up shortly afterwards.

As soon as the call ended, the silence returned.

Oscar placed his phone on the coffee table and stared at the blank television screen.

Everything felt strange.

Not bad.

Just strange.

For the first time since he and Lando had started dating, the rest of the world was peeking through the cracks.

And there was no closing the door again.

⸻

Nearly thirty minutes later, Oscar heard the familiar sound of keys rattling outside the apartment.

His head immediately lifted.

The front door opened.

Lando stepped inside.

The second their eyes met, both of them seemed to relax slightly.

Finally.

Someone who understood exactly how insane today had been.

Lando dropped his backpack by the door and kicked off his shoes.

“Hey.”

His voice was quieter than usual.

Oscar stood from the couch.

“Hey.”

For a moment neither of them moved.

Then Lando crossed the room in a few quick steps and wrapped his arms around Oscar.

Oscar immediately melted into the embrace.

Neither of them spoke.

They just stood there.

Holding each other.

The steady rise and fall of Lando’s breathing helped settle some of the anxiety that had been sitting in Oscar’s chest all afternoon.

Eventually Lando rested his chin on top of Oscar’s head.

“You okay?”

Oscar shrugged.

“I think so.”

“You don’t sound convincing.”

“I don’t feel convincing.”

That earned a small laugh from Lando.

The first genuine laugh either of them had managed all day.

Lando pulled back slightly.

His blue eyes searched Oscar’s face.

“Mark called?”

Oscar nodded.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“He thinks we shouldn’t say anything.”

Lando looked unsurprised.

“McLaren said basically the same thing.”

Oscar wasn’t sure why that disappointed him.

It was the logical solution.

The sensible solution.

Exactly what he had expected.

Still, something about hearing it out loud felt heavier than he’d imagined.

Lando sat down beside him on the couch.

For a few moments he stared at the floor.

Thinking.

Then he finally spoke.

“I think it’s probably best.”

Oscar looked over at him.

Lando was twisting one of the rings on his fingers.

A nervous habit.

“No comments,” Lando continued quietly. “No statements. No interviews.”

Oscar remained silent.

“We just stay quiet.”

Another pause.

“At least for now.”

Oscar nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

Lando glanced at him.

“You agree?”

“I do.”

And he meant it.

Mostly.

The attention was overwhelming.

The constant speculation was exhausting.

Keeping quiet was the safest option.

The easiest option.

So why did it feel so disappointing?

Oscar pushed the thought away before it could grow.

Now wasn’t the time.

Lando reached over and intertwined their fingers.

“We just have to be a little more careful.”

Oscar squeezed his hand gently.

“Okay.”

The words came easily.

Even if a small part of him wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about them.

Lando leaned back into the couch.

Oscar rested his head on his shoulder.

The apartment was quiet once again.

No reporters.

No headlines.

No speculation.

Just the two of them.

For a while they sat there together in comfortable silence.

Neither wanting to think about tomorrow.

Neither wanting to think about the internet.

Neither wanting to think about what came next.

For now, they simply held onto each other.

And tried to pretend that everything was still the same.

The first few weeks after the article were surprisingly quiet.

Well.

As quiet as they could be when half the internet was convinced they were dating.

Neither Oscar nor Lando made a statement.

Neither confirmed anything.

Neither denied anything.

Eventually the news cycle moved on.

Mostly.

The speculation never completely disappeared.

Every few days a new post would appear.

A blurry photo.

A fan theory.

A random coincidence people swore was evidence.

Oscar learned to ignore most of it.

At least he tried to.

Life slowly returned to normal.

Training.

Races.

Media appearances.

Endless travel.

The usual chaos.

For a while it felt like they had survived the storm.

Then the little things started happening.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It happened first during a charity event.

Oscar was standing with a group of drivers while fans waited nearby for photos and autographs.

Lando had been beside him all evening.

Talking.

Laughing.

Stealing food from Oscar’s plate every chance he got.

Completely normal.

Then a fan approached.

A teenage girl who looked simultaneously excited and terrified.

“Can we get a picture together?” she asked.

Oscar smiled.

“Of course.”

The girl hesitated.

“Actually…”

Her eyes moved between him and Lando.

“Can I get one with both of you?”

For a split second Oscar expected Lando to agree.

Instead Lando laughed awkwardly.

“Oh, uh…”

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ve actually got to go do something.”

Before Oscar could say anything, Lando was already walking away.

The fan looked disappointed.

Oscar quickly covered for him.

“No worries. Let’s take one.”

The girl smiled.

But the interaction lingered in Oscar’s mind long after.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next time happened during a race weekend.

Oscar was scrolling through social media while waiting for a meeting.

A clip from one of Lando’s interviews appeared on his feed.

Reporter:

“So you’ve been spending a lot of time with Oscar Piastri lately.”

Lando smiled.

“We get along.”

The reporter grinned.

“Just get along?”

Lando immediately laughed.

Then changed the subject.

“So anyway, the car’s been feeling pretty good this weekend.”

The entire interview moved on.

Nobody else seemed to notice.

Oscar did.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Then there were the photos.

Or rather the lack of them.

One evening they went out to dinner together.

Nothing fancy.

Just a small restaurant tucked away in Monaco.

Halfway through the meal a waiter approached.

“Would you guys like a picture together?”

Oscar smiled immediately.

“Sure.”

But before he could even reach for his phone, Lando answered.

“No thanks.”

The response was quick.

Automatic.

The waiter apologised and walked away.

Oscar looked down at his plate.

He wasn’t upset.

Not really.

Still.

The answer had come awfully fast.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Weeks passed.

The feeling continued growing.

Small moments.

Small disappointments.

Small questions.

None of them big enough to start a fight.

All of them impossible to ignore.

One evening they were sitting on the couch watching a movie.

Oscar wasn’t paying attention.

His mind was somewhere else.

Lando noticed almost immediately.

“You’ve been quiet.”

Oscar looked up.

“Hm?”

“You’ve been staring at the same scene for five minutes.”

Oscar laughed softly.

“Sorry.”

Lando muted the television.

“What’s wrong?”

Oscar hesitated.

The answer felt ridiculous.

Petty.

Small.

But it had been sitting in his chest for weeks.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

Oscar looked down at their intertwined fingers.

“Are you embarrassed by me?”

The question hung between them.

Lando blinked.

“What?”

Oscar immediately regretted saying it.

“Forget it.”

“No.”

Lando sat up straighter.

“Where did that come from?”

Oscar shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

Oscar sighed.

“I just…”

The words felt stupid now.

“I don’t know.”

Lando waited.

Oscar rubbed a hand across his face.

“Ever since the article came out.”

Realisation flashed across Lando’s expression.

“Oh.”

“You avoid photos.”

Lando opened his mouth.

Oscar continued before he could speak.

“You leave situations when people ask questions.”

“Oscar-”

“You never acknowledge anything.”

Lando looked frustrated now.

Not angry.

Just frustrated.

“Because we’re trying to keep things private.”

“I know.”

Oscar did know.

That was the problem.

Lando wasn’t technically doing anything wrong.

Everything he was doing made sense.

So why did it hurt?

“I know,” Oscar repeated quietly.

“But sometimes it feels like you’re trying to hide me.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

The room went silent.

Lando stared at him.

“Oscar.”

His voice softened immediately.

“That’s not what’s happening.”

Oscar nodded.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

He honestly wasn’t sure anymore.

Lando moved closer.

Taking both of Oscar’s hands.

“I am not embarrassed by you.”

The certainty in his voice was immediate.

“Not even a little.”

Oscar wanted to believe him.

Part of him did.

But another part remembered every avoided photo.

Every redirected interview.

Every awkward moment.

Lando squeezed his hands.

“I love you.”

The words were simple.

Honest.

Real.

Oscar felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.

“I love you too.”

Lando leaned forward and kissed him softly.

The conversation ended there.

Neither of them wanted to continue it.

Neither of them wanted to fight.

But later that night, long after Lando had fallen asleep beside him, Oscar found himself staring at the ceiling.

Wondering why he still couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest.

Wondering why something still felt wrong.

And wondering if maybe this conversation wasn’t actually over.

If someone had asked Oscar whether he was happy, he would have said yes without hesitation.

Because he was.

Most days, life with Lando felt easy.

Comfortable.

Safe.

They spent stolen weekends together whenever their schedules allowed it.

They ordered takeaway at ridiculous hours.

They argued about what movie to watch.

Lando continued stealing food from Oscar’s plate despite being repeatedly told not to.

Everything was good.

Which was exactly why Oscar couldn’t understand why something still bothered him.

The conversation they’d had a few weeks ago should have fixed everything.

Lando had reassured him.

He’d said all the right things.

He’d looked Oscar in the eyes and told him he loved him.

And Oscar believed him.

So why wouldn’t the feeling go away?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The answer came unexpectedly.

Oscar was sitting in an airport lounge waiting for a delayed flight.

A coffee sat forgotten beside him while he scrolled mindlessly through social media.

Most of it was the usual.

Tennis.

Formula 1.

Random videos.

Then a post caught his attention.

A football player.

Oscar vaguely recognized him.

The athlete had just gotten engaged.

The photo showed him smiling beside his fiancé.

Nothing unusual.

The comments were full of congratulations.

The article attached to the post talked about balancing professional sports and personal relationships.

Oscar found himself reading the entire thing.

Then another.

By the time boarding was announced, he’d somehow spent thirty minutes reading stories about athletes and their partners.

People who brought each other to events.

People who attended award ceremonies together.

People who openly celebrated victories together.

People who never had to pretend.

The thought settled heavily in his chest.

Oscar immediately shoved it away.

Because that wasn’t what he wanted.

Was it?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A few weeks later, he found himself sitting in the McLaren hospitality unit after a race.

The paddock was beginning to quiet down.

Most people had already started leaving.

Lando had finished media duties nearly twenty minutes ago.

Oscar was waiting for him.

A member of the McLaren media team approached.

She smiled politely.

“Still waiting?”

Oscar nodded.

“Always.”

She laughed.

“He’s stuck doing sponsor content.”

“That sounds about right.”

She sat down briefly.

The conversation stayed casual.

The weather.

The race.

Travel plans.

Then she glanced around before lowering her voice slightly.

“I honestly don’t know how you two manage it.”

Oscar blinked.

His heart skipped.

“What?”

She looked momentarily surprised.

Then realised what she’d said.

“Oh.”

An awkward silence followed.

Oscar immediately understood.

The way her eyes widened.

The way she looked around.

The way she suddenly wished she could disappear.

She knew.

Of course she knew.

Probably half the paddock knew.

Maybe more.

The woman laughed nervously.

“I should go.”

And then she practically fled.

Oscar sat there alone.

Thinking.

Because suddenly something clicked.

People already knew.

Not everybody.

Not the public.

But enough people.

Team members.

Friends.

Drivers.

People around them.

People who saw them together.

People who weren’t stupid.

The secret wasn’t really a secret anymore.

And yet every time the subject came up publicly, Lando acted as though there was absolutely nothing there.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The thought followed him home.

And then to tournaments.

And then back to Monaco.

Growing quietly in the background.

Like a song he couldn’t stop hearing.

Until eventually he found himself talking to Jannik.

Which, in hindsight, was probably a mistake.

“You’re overthinking.”

Oscar frowned.

“I haven’t even told you what happened.”

“You don’t have to.”

Jannik sounded entirely too pleased with himself.

Oscar rolled his eyes.

They were on a video call.

Jannik was stretched across a hotel bed somewhere in Europe.

“You’ve got that face.”

“What face?”

“The overthinking face.”

Oscar sighed.

Jannik pointed dramatically at the screen.

“There.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It absolutely is.”

Oscar rubbed a hand over his face.

“Forget it.”

“No.”

Jannik sat up.

“Tell me.”

Oscar hesitated.

Then eventually spoke.

“It’s stupid.”

“Those are always the interesting conversations.”

Oscar laughed despite himself.

Then his expression softened.

“I don’t want some huge public relationship.”

Jannik’s smile disappeared.

Now he was actually listening.

“I know.”

“I don’t want press conferences.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want statements.”

Jannik nodded.

Oscar stared down at his hands.

“But sometimes…”

The words felt difficult.

Harder than they should.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t feel like a secret.”

Silence.

For once, Jannik didn’t immediately make a joke.

Oscar continued quietly.

“That’s all.”

The admission felt surprisingly painful.

“I just wish it didn’t always feel like something we’re hiding.”

Jannik studied him.

“Have you told him that?”

Oscar looked away.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Because he already knew what Lando would say.

Because Lando would tell him he loved him.

Because Lando would insist that wasn’t what was happening.

Because technically none of this was Lando’s fault.

“I don’t know.”

Jannik sighed.

“You should.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

Oscar smiled weakly.

“We’ll see.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

That night, Oscar returned to the apartment before Lando.

The sunset painted the living room in shades of orange and gold.

For a while he simply sat on the couch.

Thinking.

The front door eventually opened.

Lando stepped inside.

Immediately smiling when he saw him.

“Hi.”

Oscar smiled back.

“Hi.”

Lando crossed the room and dropped onto the couch beside him.

Close enough that their shoulders touched.

Close enough that Oscar could smell his cologne.

Comfortable.

Familiar.

Home.

Lando rested his head against Oscar’s shoulder.

“Tough day?”

Oscar looked down at him.

At the man he loved.

The man who had never once given him a reason to doubt how much he cared.

And yet…

The feeling was still there.

Small.

Persistent.

Growing.

Like a crack forming beneath the surface.

“Something like that.”

Lando intertwined their fingers.

Oscar squeezed his hand automatically.

For a moment, everything felt normal again.

But deep down, Oscar knew something had changed.

The question he’d been avoiding for months was no longer going away.

And sooner or later, he was going to have to ask it.

Did Lando want a private relationship?

Or did he want a secret one?

And for the first time, Oscar wasn’t sure he knew the answer.

The argument happened on a Thursday.

Which somehow made it worse.

Not after a race.

Not after a scandal.

Not after some dramatic headline.

Just a random Thursday evening.

The kind of day neither of them would remember under normal circumstances.

Oscar almost laughed later when he thought about it.

How something so important had started over something so small.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Lando was sitting at the kitchen island scrolling through his phone while eating leftover pasta straight from the container.

Oscar was making tea.

The apartment was quiet.

Comfortable.

Normal.

At least until Lando’s phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen and groaned.

“What?”

Lando tossed the phone onto the counter.

“Another article.”

Oscar didn’t need to ask which kind.

There was only one type of article that could make Lando look that annoyed.

“The rumours again?”

“The rumours again.”

Oscar nodded.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

The kettle continued boiling softly.

Lando picked his phone back up.

“Honestly, people are insane.”

Oscar looked over.

Lando was scrolling through comments.

“They’ve got entire accounts dedicated to tracking us.”

Oscar forced a smile.

“Yeah.”

“Someone posted a twelve-minute video analysing our body language.”

“That’s commitment.”

“It’s terrifying.”

Oscar laughed quietly.

But something about the conversation made his chest tighten.

Lando kept reading.

“And apparently we’re secretly engaged now.”

That earned an actual laugh.

“What?”

“I know.”

Lando shook his head.

“They’re making things up.”

The words should have been harmless.

Instead they lingered.

They’re making things up.

Oscar looked down at his mug.

Because technically they weren’t.

Not entirely.

The relationship existed.

The feelings existed.

The only thing people didn’t know was the truth.

And suddenly he was tired.

Tired of pretending the situation didn’t bother him.

Tired of acting like everything was fine.

Tired of swallowing the same thoughts over and over again.

Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

“Do you ever think about just telling people?”

The apartment fell silent.

Lando looked up immediately.

“What?”

Oscar regretted it instantly.

But it was too late now.

“Nothing.”

“No.”

Lando sat up straighter.

“What did you mean?”

Oscar stared into his tea.

“I don’t know.”

“You do.”

Oscar sighed.

Of course he did.

Lando knew him too well.

“I was just wondering.”

“Wondering what?”

Oscar hesitated.

Then finally met his eyes.

“If you’re ever tired of hiding.”

The second the words left his mouth, Lando’s expression changed.

Not angry.

Not upset.

Guarded.

Oscar hated that expression.

Because lately he’d been seeing it more and more.

“We’re not hiding.”

The answer came immediately.

Almost rehearsed.

Oscar looked away.

“Okay.”

Lando noticed.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Oscar.”

The warning in his voice was gentle.

But it was still a warning.

Oscar placed his mug on the counter.

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Is it?”

Lando blinked.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Oscar laughed softly.

Not because anything was funny.

Mostly because he was nervous.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

The room felt smaller suddenly.

The air heavier.

Oscar rubbed a hand across his face.

“I just don’t understand why everything has to be such a secret.”

Lando stared at him.

“A secret?”

The word sounded ridiculous coming from his mouth.

Like Oscar had accused him of something unreasonable.

“You know that’s not fair.”

Oscar’s stomach dropped.

There it was.

The defensiveness.

The exact reaction he’d been afraid of.

“I’m not saying it is.”

“It isn’t.”

Lando stood up.

Now they were both standing.

Neither looking at each other properly.

“I’ve never treated you like a secret.”

Oscar swallowed.

Hearing the words somehow made it worse.

Because maybe Lando genuinely believed that.

Maybe he didn’t even realize what Oscar was trying to say.

“Then why do you always leave?”

Lando frowned.

“What?”

“The photos.”

“Oscar-”

“The interviews.”

“Oscar.”

“The questions.”

Lando ran a hand through his hair.

Frustration flashed across his face.

“Because every time people ask those questions they’re trying to get information about us.”

Oscar looked at him.

“And?”

“And I don’t want to give them any.”

The answer came instantly.

Without hesitation.

And for some reason that hurt.

Because Lando had never once stopped to consider whether Oscar wanted something different.

“Do you know what it feels like?”

Oscar asked quietly.

Lando looked confused.

“What?”

Oscar laughed bitterly.

“To hear people ask about the person you love and watch them act like you don’t exist?”

The words hit harder than he intended.

Lando’s face immediately fell.

“Oscar.”

“No, seriously.”

Months of frustration finally started spilling out.

“You redirect every question.”

“Because-”

“You walk away from photos.”

“Because-”

“You act like there’s nothing there.”

“Because it’s private.”

Oscar’s shoulders slumped.

There it was.

The word again.

Private.

Every conversation somehow came back to the same thing.

Except Oscar wasn’t sure they were talking about the same thing anymore.

“I know it’s private.”

Lando stared at him.

“Then what are we arguing about?”

The question hung between them.

And suddenly Oscar realized neither of them knew the answer.

Not really.

Because he wasn’t asking for a public announcement.

He wasn’t asking for interviews.

He wasn’t asking for headlines.

He wasn’t even asking to go public.

He just wanted to feel chosen.

Acknowledged.

Wanted.

And somehow he couldn’t explain that in a way Lando understood.

Oscar looked away.

“I don’t know.”

The fight seemed to disappear from him all at once.

Leaving only exhaustion.

Lando’s expression softened immediately.

The frustration vanished.

Replacing itself with concern.

“Hey.”

Oscar didn’t respond.

Lando stepped closer.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Oscar did.

Lando reached for his hand.

“I love you.”

The words were immediate.

Certain.

Honest.

Oscar knew they were true.

That was the worst part.

Because this wasn’t about love.

It had never been about love.

“I know.”

Lando squeezed his hand.

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

Silence.

A painful one.

The kind that settles between people when neither feels understood.

Eventually Lando pulled him into a hug.

Oscar let himself be held.

Resting his forehead against Lando’s shoulder.

Safe.

Comfortable.

Familiar.

And yet somehow the ache remained.

Because the argument was over.

But the problem wasn’t.

Neither of them spoke about it again that night.

Instead they ordered takeaway.

Watched a movie.

Pretended everything was normal.

But as Oscar lay awake hours later listening to Lando sleep beside him, he couldn’t stop replaying the conversation.

One thought kept returning.

Over and over.

Lando thought he was protecting their relationship.

Oscar wasn’t sure he was.

And for the first time since they’d started dating, that difference scared him.

The race weekend started badly.

Not catastrophically.

Just badly enough to put everyone on edge.

By Thursday morning, Lando had already done three media sessions, two sponsor appearances, and what felt like approximately seventeen interviews.

Oscar knew this because Lando had texted him.

I hate journalists.

Oscar had laughed.

That’s unfortunate considering your job.

Thinking about retirement.

At twenty-six?

It’s been a hard life.

The conversation had ended there.

Normal.

Easy.

The way things usually were.

But beneath the surface, nothing really felt normal anymore.

Not after their argument.

Not after everything they’d left unsaid.

Neither of them had brought it up again.

Which somehow felt worse.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

By Friday, the rumours had returned.

Again.

Oscar wasn’t even surprised anymore.

Someone had posted a blurry photo of him arriving at the paddock earlier that morning.

Within an hour, people were analyzing it.

Within two hours, someone had somehow connected it to a picture Lando posted six months ago.

Oscar didn’t even want to know how.

The internet was terrifying.

Jannik certainly found it funny.

They found a reflection in a window.

Oscar stared at the message.

A reflection?

A reflection.

I’m deleting the internet.

Good luck.

Oscar tossed his phone onto the bed.

Unfortunately, the internet wasn’t the only problem.

Because journalists had started getting bolder.

Much bolder.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Lando discovered this during media day.

At first the questions were harmless.

Questions about the car.

Questions about upgrades.

Questions about championship standings.

Then one reporter smiled.

And everything changed.

“We’ve seen a lot of speculation online recently.”

Lando already knew where this was going.

His smile became noticeably tighter.

“Have you?”

The room laughed.

The reporter continued.

“Do you find it amusing?”

Lando shrugged.

“People can talk about whatever they want.”

The answer was polite.

Professional.

Safe.

Exactly what he’d been trained to give.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough.

“Does the speculation bother you?”

“No.”

Another smile.

Another carefully controlled answer.

Another attempt to move on.

The reporter wasn’t finished.

“Can you clarify any of it?”

Lando’s stomach dropped.

There it was.

The question.

The one everyone had been dancing around for months.

He laughed lightly.

“The car feels good this weekend.”

The room erupted with laughter.

The reporter rolled her eyes.

The subject moved on.

But the damage was done.

The clip spread online within minutes.

Millions of views.

Thousands of comments.

Everyone suddenly convinced his refusal to answer meant something.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The meeting happened later that afternoon.

And Lando immediately knew it wasn’t going to be fun.

The moment he walked into the room and saw several members of the communications team sitting around the table, he wanted to leave.

One of them gestured toward an empty chair.

“Have a seat.”

Great.

Lando sat down.

A laptop was turned toward him.

The screen displayed social media statistics.

Articles.

Videos.

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