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Chapter Text

Monday mornings after race weekends were usually the hardest. Lando was exhausted - physically and mentally - and trying to ignore the dull ache at the base of his skull as he fought with every fibre of his being against his biology. Dropping into headspace was a reflex, something that most littles didn’t have much control over, but Lando had been fighting it since he was 16, when he was classified. He’d promised himself that no one other than his parents and the doctors who really needed to know would ever find out he was a little. He was already racing, being noticed by sponsors, winning, and he couldn’t risk that because they didn’t think a little belonged in motorsports. Because they didn’t think he belonged. 

His parents had been concerned at first, Cisca printing out and poring over medical journals about the importance of time in headspace for littles. She’d highlight passages and leave little post-it tabs everywhere, brow furrowed as she read more about the long-term effects of blocking headspace. But Lando knew he was risking his career if he delayed starting the hormone blockers too long. He'd sat down with them both, and cried and begged and pleaded with them, promising that when things had settled down he’d find a Caregiver, that he just needed a few years to get established and when he did he’d prioritise taking care of that part of him. They’d reluctantly agreed, and he’d started blockers that month. 

Almost immediately, he’d felt a difference. Before, he often felt on the precipice of overwhelm, an aching emotion he didn’t quite understand sitting like a weight right at the base of his skull. But once the blockers kicked in, he felt entirely in control of himself. He worried that maybe the other drivers would notice the change in him, but if they did, no one said anything. 

He was glad that conversations about classifications weren’t really anything more than hushed questions the first year or so, and that everyone accepted that he was a baseline. He toyed with the idea of pretending to be a Dom like so many of the drivers he looked up to, but his mother had gently reminded him that it probably wasn’t that believable as he was still quite small for his age.

He’d dropped once by accident just after his classification, before he’d started the blockers. He remembered feeling fuzzy round the edges, like his brain didn’t work as quickly as it normally did. He curled up on his bed, put his thumb in his mouth, and cried himself to sleep, unable to understand the unbearable feeling of want. He couldn’t explain what - or who - but he just knew he wanted. He woke up big again the next morning, eyes sticky with unshed tears, and legs tangled in wet sheets. 

Occasionally, Cisca would ask him if he’d managed to get himself off the blockers, if he was looking after himself. Since turning eighteen, he’d managed his medication alone. Paid off doctors and lied to McLaren medics. Kept a steady supply of blockers that kept his little headspace at bay. He ignored the headaches, blamed them on travel and exhaustion, and pretended not to see when his hands shook as he took a double dose on a Monday morning after race weekend. He kept his answers vague when his mum asked - he was being sensible, he knew what he was doing, he was looking after himself. 

He did let himself drop, after all, he rationalised to himself. He scheduled evenings where he’d sit very still, closing his eyes. He’d find himself start to feel fuzzy and he’d lie down, still closing his eyes. He’d tuck his thumb in his mouth, and he’d try not to let the salty tears get in his mouth as he tried to hold in sobs. He desperately wanted something to hold, a teddy or a blanket, anything familiar, but big Lando thought that buying anything for his little self was indulgent and unnecessary. Instead, he’d rub the corner of his sheet between his thumb and finger. When he stopped crying, he usually fell asleep. When he woke up, he was big again, but there was still a lingering want that he couldn’t put his finger on. He ignored it as he changed his sheets, angrily shoving the wet ones from the night before in the washing machine. It was all so inconvenient for him, but scheduling in the time to drop was the only way to make sure he didn’t ever do it accidentally. 

And, for the most part, it worked. Sort of. There were a couple of Caregivers on the grid when he joined F1, but he knew who they were and tried to avoid them as much as possible, afraid of accidentally triggering his headspace. Sometimes, just being near a Caregiver was enough to send Lando into a spiral, usually ending up with salty tears on his cheeks and his thumb in his mouth and that all-encompassing wanting. But he knew what he was doing. He was in control, he had it managed. That is, until he didn’t. 

—

In hindsight, maybe he should have seen it coming. When Carlos was his teammate, even though he wasn’t a Caregiver, Lando could feel his little side clawing desperately at the back of his head every time he gave him even just a hint of comfort or care. He found himself feeling a little fuzzy at the edges sometimes after some of the silly promo videos marketing made them do. 

They were friends, and Lando enjoyed his company and the fun they had together, and he tried to ignore how, sometimes, he’d have to tuck his thumb into his fist and cross his arms tightly to stop it finding its way into his mouth. 

He’d felt kind of similar with Danny, although Danny felt more like the fun uncle, encouraging him to do things out of his comfort zone. He sometimes felt little around him, but Danny was a baseline, so it was a lot easier to just embrace the chaos and let go a bit. 

Carlos, on the other hand, was a Dom. Biologically similar to a Caregiver, if you looked at it sideways and squinted. He did things instinctively that made Lando want to crawl into his lap and fall asleep with his arms around him. 

Lando was almost pleased when Carlos told him he’d signed for Ferrari, that he’d be leaving at the end of the season; the more time they spent together, the more often Lando found himself doubling up on his blockers and chewing on his lip until it bled just to try and suppress the aching need to suck his thumb. 

But still, even then, Lando believed he had it all under control. He still let himself drop on schedule, still took the blockers, still presented to the world - as much as he possibly could - as a baseline. 

And then he met his new teammate. 

He sensed Oscar before he met him, sitting in one of the big meeting rooms in Woking. His little ached at the base of his skull, instantly alert to the presence of a Caregiver. An unfamiliar Caregiver. 

He wanted to leave immediately and not have to meet Oscar. Not have to share the same space as him, while his little clamoured to come out, to be seen, to be cared for. He wondered how rude it would look if he didn’t shake his hand, if he avoided his eye contact, if he never spent any time with him outside of anything absolutely necessary. He didn’t even look up as the door opened, but his breath caught in his throat. 

He’d been in the same space as Caregivers before, of course, but he’d never been this aware of it before. Never felt quite so exposed, like he knew that if he met Oscar’s gaze, he’d see right through him. Would know immediately. It felt almost oppressive, the worry, and Lando desperately wanted to stand up and just… leave.

He didn’t though, of course. Couldn’t. Couldn’t imagine the fallout of something like that, especially when no one knew his classification. Instead he gritted his teeth in a loose approximation of a smile and staunchly avoided eye contact, and tucked his thumbs into his fists and tried to shake the growing sense of wanting wanting wanting that crept around the edges in the back of his head. 

When Oscar held his hand out to shake his, Lando’s eyes met his just for a second. And it was enough; the world tilted, his breath hitched, quiet but not quiet enough. Oscar’s eyes narrowed slightly, questioning.

Lando remembered, too late, that Caregivers had better hearing than baselines. Much better.

But still, he shook his hand. Ignored how his fingers tingled when they touched Oscar’s. Kept his face arranged in a careful smile. 

The meeting went on for longer than Lando thought was truly necessary, and he found his gaze drifting over to Oscar more than once. He didn’t know what was being discussed anymore, but Oscar looked engrossed, looking straight at Andrea who was standing at the front of the room. Sometimes he’d nod a little bit, sometimes he’d fiddle with his pen. Once he looked over at Lando, who blushed and dropped his eyes, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. 

When he looked back up, Oscar was looking back at the front of the room, but he looked… less focused. The inside of his cheek was caught between his teeth, brow furrowed like he was thinking. 

When the meeting ended, Lando packed up as quickly as possible, throwing his things into his bag, and almost knocking a couple of engineers out of the way in his haste to leave. 

‘Lando?’ 

He didn’t want to turn around, wanted to leave, to get out, to curl up in a ball on his bed and rub the corner of his sheets between his fingers and feel the ache of want want want until he fell asleep and woke up tomorrow to try again. He reached the door, was about to head through, was so very close to being free. 

‘Lando? Wait up.’ 

He sighed. Stopped. Arranged his face into something that he thought would look ok. Not quite a smile, but close enough. Turned around. 

‘I thought we could get a coffee or something? You could show me around? I’m still getting lost.’ Oscar smiled, rubbed his neck. ‘A lot, actually. It’s pretty much a maze in here.’ 

He looked so sincere, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at Lando. Lando tried desperately to ignore his little clamouring for attention. Instead he smiled back, tried to match Oscar’s sincerity. ‘Yeah, of course. I still get lost but I can lead you to coffee.’

‘Lead the way,’ Oscar replied, motioning for Lando to go first. 

He realised after a minute or two of walking in silence that they should probably be talking. He’d been pretty caught up in his own head, trying desperately to not seem like a little in front of ostensibly the most Caregiver-y Caregiver he’d ever met. It had never, ever felt this hard to keep composure, keep the whine of his little in the back of his head from spilling out of his mouth. He cleared his throat instead. 

‘So, how are you finding things?’ 

Oscar startled a little at Lando speaking to him, then let out a quiet laugh through his nose. 

‘It’s different. In a good way but just… yeah. Different. I think I’m still getting used to it.’ 

Lando nodded, hoped that his eyes weren’t screaming little little little when he met Oscar’s, hoped that instead he looked sympathetic and understanding and friendly. He thought maybe they could be friends. He liked Oscar, wanted to make sure he was enjoying himself and settling in, and besides they’d have to spend time together anyway. 

‘How about you? How do you like it here?’ 

‘I mean, I’ve been here for a while, it can’t be that bad.’

Oscar smiled at him, and Lando fought every urge he had to drop into his little headspace right there and then. 

‘I guess it starts to feel a bit like home after a while, hey?’ 

‘Something like that. It’s nice when you feel like you know what you’re doing.’ Even if you don’t, he added silently. Even if it’s all just one big lie. 

They turned the corner into the cafeteria. 

‘And to know where the coffee is?’ Oscar nudged him slightly with his shoulder, and Lando smiled at the floor. 

‘And to know where the coffee is.’ 

They spent a while sitting at a table nursing cooling coffees and chatting. It was getting easier for Lando to remember to breathe. To be able to look at Oscar and not immediately panic. He started to relax, buoyed by Oscar’s crinkly-eyed smile whenever he waved his hands around to emphasise his point. He could feel himself start to talk faster. A soft lisp sneaking in, rounded rs, simpler words. He asked Oscar a question to buy himself time, and mentally shook himself when he realised just how close his little headspace was to the surface. The familiar ache in the base of his skull throbbed stronger than ever. 

He realised that he’d forgotten to listen to Oscar’s reply when he looked up to see his teammate looking at him, slightly expectantly. He tried to remember what they were talking about. He didn’t want to seem rude, or make Oscar annoyed. 

‘Um, I mean… I guess…’ He shook his head. He was too close to his headspace for his brain to work quickly enough for him to cover. ‘I’m sorry, I forgot to listen.’ 

Oscar didn’t seem annoyed or angry. It looked like he found it funny, his eyes sparkling with something there wasn’t quite a name for, and his smile was gentle. Warm in a way that made Lando feel seen. 

He tried not to worry about how important Oscar’s smile already felt.  

‘It’s ok. Do you want to start heading over to the next briefing?’ 

‘It’s time already?’ Lando replied, immediately regretting how childish he sounded.

‘It’s time already,’ Oscar nodded once, with a small, knowing smile. Lando felt his heart speed up, just a little. He’d relaxed too much. He’d let things slide and normally he wouldn’t be too worried because normally the person he was talking to wouldn’t be so attuned to his little slip-ups. And while he already knew that Oscar was slowly becoming the centre of little Lando’s world, he also knew there was no way he could ever risk doing anything about it. 

— 

As they made their way to the briefing, Lando tried to arrange his thoughts. He had to get a grip, get control again. He couldn’t risk letting himself slip in front of Oscar. He was already too aware of Lando, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not yet. 

He wondered, as they approached the meeting room, if he’d always have to be a bit on guard around Oscar, or if it would fade in time. 

When they entered the room, Lando made sure to try and take a seat as far from Oscar as possible, just so he could try and focus on something - anything - else. He didn’t need Oscar getting too close just now. 

Oscar seemed to have other plans, though. As soon as Lando sat, Oscar slid into the chair next to him. Lando twisted his hands in his lap. He could feel Oscar’s Caregiver radiating off him. His little side tugged sharply again, but Lando shoved it down. He crossed his arms, pressed his knuckles against his lips, bounced his knee, tried to ignore the want want want. 

Oscar leaned in slightly, glancing at the screen, then back at Lando. ‘You ok?’ 

The question was so simple. So… caring. Like Oscar'd noticed the way Lando hadn’t sat still for a single second since they sat down. Lando tried to mask the sudden wave of panic with a shrug. 

‘Yeah. Fine.’ He hoped Oscar wouldn’t notice how his voice came out a little higher than normal. He looked resolutely at the screen ahead.  

Oscar didn’t comment on it, but he could feel his gaze lingering for a moment before turning to the front of the room as well. 

The rest of the briefing was a blur. Lando tried to focus, but he could feel himself drifting back to Oscar. Oscar’s warmth next to him. Oscar’s voice. The knowing smile that made him feel so seen, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. 

Lando could feel himself starting to spiral, to panic, his thoughts spinning away from him as he fidgeted with his hands. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so caught off-guard. But then, Oscar wasn’t like anyone he’d met before. 

And then, without warning, Oscar nudged him gently with his elbow. 

‘Hey.’

Lando jumped, tried to cover it with a half-laugh. ‘What?’ 

‘You sure you’re ok? You just seem…’ he gestured at Lando’s knee, still bouncing from earlier. Lando immediately placed his hand on it, stilling it. It felt like Oscar could see right through him, through the walls he’d spent years putting up.  

‘I’m fine.’ He tried to smile, but it felt hollow even to him. What he wanted to do was to shout, to demand Oscar stopped watching him, to point out how unfair it all was, that he’d spent so long hiding, then Oscar just waltzed in and saw right through him, but that would only make it worse. He didn’t want to seem little, and having a tantrum probably wouldn’t help his case. 

‘I’m not… I just…’ Oscar paused, as if trying to think how to phrase it. ‘You don’t have to hide anything from me. We’re teammates, right?’ 

Oscar’s voice was unbearably soft, and Lando bit his lip hard, looking away and feeling the ache at the base of his skull grow. It felt so intimate, the way Oscar said those words. Like he was reaching out to Lando for something he knew he couldn’t give. 

He looked back at Oscar, meeting his gaze for just a moment. Oscar’s expression wasn’t teasing, or judgemental. It was just understanding. Like he knew. 

‘I don’t…’ Lando started, but the words caught in his throat. He didn’t know how to explain that everything felt different now. That Oscar made him feel things he’d not allowed himself to feel before. 

Oscar didn’t press him. He just gave Lando a soft smile and turned his attention back to the screen. 

Lando couldn’t stop the way his heart thudded in his chest or the way he was desperate to tuck his thumb in his mouth. He curled his hands into fists, pressing them against his thighs to stop himself. 

The briefing dragged on, but all Lando could focus on was Oscar next to him, the way he felt so close. Every glance, every time his elbow brushed against Lando, it all felt like a trigger. He couldn’t handle this. Not with Oscar seeing him the way he clearly did. 

As soon as the meeting was over, Lando was up and out of his seat faster than he could think. He needed space. He needed distance. He needed to breathe. 

‘Lando, wait.’ 

Oscar’s voice, calm and firm, stopped him in his tracks. Lando’s whole body froze. He couldn’t. Not when he was so close to breaking. He couldn’t let Oscar see. 

He turned slowly, trying to hide just how desperately he was clinging on to his big headspace. ‘What’s up?’ 

Oscar’s eyes softened. He didn’t look angry, or annoyed. He looked concerned, and that made Lando feel sick. ‘You sure you’re ok?’ 

‘Yeah I’m fine, I just… I just need a second. I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?’ He forced a smile, and hoped that it would be enough to end the conversation. 

Oscar didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press any further. Just nodded, and said, ‘alright, I’ll be around if you need me.’ 

Lando wasn’t sure what Oscar meant by if you need me, but he nodded back and turned to walk away. He didn’t want to seem rude but he could feel his little headspace fighting harder than ever to be noticed. He made it as far as a tucked away meeting room down a side corridor before he pressed against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up underneath his chin. He could barely think straight, his thoughts just swirling around Oscar and the way his Caregiver just poured out of him and the want want want that Lando always fought so hard to keep under control. 

Trying to stop it now felt like trying to hold back a wave with his bare hands. 

He pressed his hands against his face, rubbed his knuckles over his lips, ignored the way he desperately wanted to put his thumb in his mouth. He couldn’t lose control like this. He mentally shook himself. He’d spent his life hiding this, spent years carefully constructing walls and facades that kept that part of him secret. And he wasn’t going to let one Caregiver and his stupid soft smile and his crinkly eyes ruin that. 

He stayed on the floor a minute longer, squeezing his hands into fists so tightly they hurt, and let the panic subside just enough that he could think again. Tentatively, he stood up. His little side was still there, but he felt a little less… helpless. 

He wasn’t weak. He couldn’t let himself be weak. He’d find a way for them to coexist but right now he just needed to keep his distance from Oscar. 

— 

They kept a delicate peace over the next few months. Racing was always the best way for Lando to keep his little headspace at bay, and he threw himself into discussions with his engineering team, into sim racing, into spending as much time as possible in meetings and away from situations where he and Oscar had much time together, just the two of them. 

More and more, though, he found himself pressing a double dose of his suppressants out of their little foil packet. He found his little headspace jostling for attention, the dull ache in his skull getting increasingly unbearable. He swallowed painkillers and took electrolytes and tried to press the pain out with his thumbs, until one evening he dropped out of sheer desperation in a hotel room a few days before the next race. 

The next morning, he still felt fuzzy around the edges and forced himself to claw his way back up to his big headspace just long enough to send a message over to Will - something vague that meant he could still head over this afternoon if he was feeling better - before being pulled back under, thumb in his mouth and tears on his cheeks. He’d never dropped for so long before, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. His tummy was hungry and the sheets were itchy as they dried around him and he wanted wanted wanted but he didn’t know what or who or why. 

Actually, he did know who - his little brain was chanting Oscar Oscar Oscar at him until he wanted to scream or cry. The pull to him was so intense it hurt. Wanted to pick up his phone and try and find his number in a WhatsApp group chat and call him and tell him to come over right away. He knew he couldn’t but he wanted. 

He rubbed the sheets on his bed between his fingers instead, and squeezed his eyes tight and tried so hard not to imagine what it would feel like to be picked up, cuddled, fed, changed. Taken care of. Loved. He sighed around his thumb. He tried so hard to be big, to be grown up, to not want, to be good. To make sure people know he wasn’t just a silly little baby, but the weight of that was a lot, and he just wanted to be able to hand that over for someone else to hold. Just for a little while. 

When someone knocked on his door a couple of hours later, Lando was still lying in bed. His edges were still fuzzier than they’d ever been and his eyes were still closed and his thumb was still rubbing lazy circles on his lips, because he’d made it sore by the knuckle from where he’d been sucking it too much. His sheets were stained but dry now, and he desperately needed a shower, but he couldn’t get up. He wasn’t even sure he could remember how to use the shower, anyway. The line between big and little was more blurred now that he could ever remember. 

His eyes snapped open when he heard the first knock, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t move, anyway. He couldn’t open the door, not like this. 

They knocked again. Lando anxiously rubbed the sheets between his fingers and wished they’d go away. Whoever it was - there wasn’t a single person he could think of that he’d open the door for right now.

A soft voice called out, ‘Lando?’ And…oh. It was Oscar. Lando didn’t remember starting to cry, but a sob escaped from his mouth and he hoped that Oscar didn’t hear but he also hoped he did. He could taste his tears as he sucked on the pad of his thumb. 

‘Hey, Lando. I know you’re in there and I think I might be able to help, but you’ve got to let me in, ok?’ 

Lando shook his head, heart hammering in his chest. He could feel all tethers to his big self slipping away as the fuzziness of being little crept further and further in. He felt more little than he’d ever felt before and he wanted Oscar, so much, but he knew he couldn’t have him. Couldn’t quite remember why, not as his headspace seeped into every part of his brain, but knew he couldn’t. He sobbed quietly again. 

‘Lando? Please, love. Open the door, I can help, but I need you to come and open the door so I can come in.’ 

The want want want pressed against him until it felt oppressive, like Bahrain heat on race day or the smell of someone microwaving fish in the cafeteria. 

‘I know you’re in there and I know you’re scared. You’ve been really brave, haven’t you, doing this by yourself, and I’m going to help you and we can find your Mummy or Daddy, but I really need you to let me in Lando. I just need you to be brave for a little bit longer and then I promise I’ll help you. It’s going to be ok, I just need you to let me in.’ 

Oscar knew, he knew Lando was a little, and the final shred of Lando’s big headspace dissolved entirely, the last of his rational thoughts crumbling. He heard himself whimpering. He put his whole thumb in his mouth even though it was sore and he squeezed his eyes closed and he cried and cried. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying. It all felt so big. And he wanted, he wanted a cuddle and he wanted to be clean and he wanted to be fed and he wanted someone to come and take care of him. He wanted Oscar to come and take care of him. He still couldn’t move. 

He heard Oscar talking quietly to someone else, then he knocked softly again. ‘Lando, I’m going to go down to reception and get your spare key. Then I’m going to come back up and I’m going to open your door and I’m going to help you. You’re being so brave, I’m so proud of you. I’ll help you find your Mummy or Daddy ok? How does that sound?’ 

Lando nodded, then remembered Oscar couldn’t see him. He whispered a very quiet ‘ok’ around his thumb and hoped that Oscar’s Caregiver hearing worked even through hotel doors. 

‘I’ll be right back, ok? You’re doing so well. Being so brave.’ 

Lando didn’t feel very brave as he squeezed his eyes shut and sucked his thumb and rubbed the corner of his sheet between his thumb and finger. He felt unmoored, never feeling further from his big headspace than he did right then. He felt scared and overwhelmed and he wanted Oscar to hurry because he’d said he would make it better and maybe he’d fix everything and Lando wouldn’t feel so adrift. 

He thought about what Oscar said - I’ll help you find your Mummy or Daddy ok? - and he wondered if Oscar wouldn’t want to help him when he found out Lando didn’t have a Caregiver. Maybe he’d just want to leave Lando, maybe he’d think he was too much, maybe he’d think Lando was trying to trick him. He hadn’t told Oscar he’d got a Mummy or Daddy, so he hadn’t lied, but he’d also not told Oscar he was a little. He hoped Oscar would come back and he hoped Oscar wouldn’t be too cross with him. 

He’d stopped crying but his thumb was still salty, sore from where he’d sucked a raw circle underneath his knuckle. He needed to go to the bathroom again but he didn’t want to move in case Oscar came back and couldn’t find him. He wanted a bath and his tummy was so, so hungry. He hoped Oscar would have some food. 

‘Lando? Lando, I’m going to open the door now love, ok? You don’t need to do anything, I’m going to come in.’ 

Lando heard the door click softly, and he curled himself into a little ball. He didn’t know if he wanted to stay hidden or if he wanted to throw himself into Oscar’s arms. He stayed still. He felt so small, or maybe it was that everything felt so big. He felt Oscar come into the room, heard his soft ‘oh’ as he saw Lando curled up on the bed. 

‘Hey sweetheart. I’m here now, it’s ok. I’m not going anywhere.’ 

Lando whimpered, a quiet sound that escaped before he could stop it, and his thumb pressed deeper into his mouth. He tried to hold back more tears but they came anyway, leaking from the corners of his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. Oscar just sounded so soft. So safe. He wanted wanted wanted, wanted to be held, wanted to be safe. Wanted Oscar to make everything better.

Oscar walked slowly to the bed, crouched down beside it so he was at eye level with Lando. Didn’t rush him, didn’t push or demand anything. He was just there, waiting. Giving Lando the space to decide what he needed. 

‘Can I help you sit up?’ Oscar asked, quietly. ‘You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. I just want to make sure you’re ok.’ 

Lando hesitated, then nodded. Just a tiny movement, but enough for Oscar to see. Slowly, cautiously, Oscar’s hands reached out, settling gently on Lando’s side before helping him sit up. His head was dizzy and he felt like his body wasn’t his own, but the moment Oscar touched him, a warmth spread through him. 

‘I’m right here,’ Oscar whispered, as he propped him against the pillows with a tenderness that made Lando’s chest ache. ‘You’re being so brave. I’m not going to leave you.’ 

He swiped at Lando’s cheek with the back of his hand, wiping away the tears that were still falling. Lando let out a shaky breath. ‘Oscar,’ he whispered around his thumb. 

‘You’re being so brave, aren't you? Such a good boy.’ He brushed Lando’s hair away from his forehead, stroking his head, as he sat on the bed next to him. ‘I’ve got you. You’re safe.’ 

Lando closed his eyes and nuzzled his head into Oscar’s hand. He was here to help Lando, he was here to make things ok. His whole world narrowed to Oscar, to the warmth of his presence and the gentle reassurances he whispered over and over. For the first time ever, he felt like he could allow himself to feel small, to stop fighting against his headspace. 

Lando’s tears slowed, sobs turning into soft, exhausted hiccups. He tucked himself against Oscar’s side, as close as possible. He couldn’t bear to be any further away. Oscar rubbed slow circles on his back and kept a steady stream of shh shh shh good boy you’re so brave I’m here I’ve got you into Lando’s hair.

After a while, when Lando felt much calmer and felt his eyes growing heavy, Oscar shook his shoulder gently. 

‘Hey love. You must be so tired but I’d really like to see if I can help you get your Mummy or Daddy here. They’ll be so worried about you, I know.’ 

Lando tensed against him. Oscar paused, his hand stopping briefly before he started his slow circles again. 

‘Lando?’ 

Lando felt his chest tighten. Oscar would probably want to go as soon as he knew Lando didn’t have a Caregiver. Would probably think Lando was trying to trick him into coming to help him. He took a deep, shaky breath. He shook his head against Oscar’s chest. 

‘You don’t want me to help you find them?’ Oscar sounded confused. 

He shook his head again. He could feel his heart hammering against his chest. He wished Oscar hadn’t said anything and they could go back to five minutes ago where everything felt soft and safe and Lando wasn’t anxious about Oscar leaving.

‘Lando, love. I don’t think I understand.’ His hands were still rubbing circles on Lando’s back. 

‘Don’t have one,’ Lando mumbled around his thumb. He squeezed his eyes closed. Oscar’s hand stilled for a beat again. 

‘You… you don’t have a Caregiver?’ 

Lando shook his head again. 

‘Oh,’ breathed Oscar. His hand was still moving, but it was slower now, like he was thinking. ‘Are they sick or…?’ he asked, gently.

If he was closer to his big headspace, Lando would have found it amusing maybe, how much Oscar couldn’t fathom a little without a Caregiver. But he was deep deep deep in his little headspace, and everything felt like so much, felt so big, felt so difficult. He whined, a needy little noise in the back of his throat. He wanted Oscar to stop asking questions, to go if he was going to go. 

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Oscar pressed his hand against Lando’s back to reassure him, before rubbing circles again. ‘I know this must feel like a lot, and you are doing so, so well. I’m so proud of you.’ 

‘Don’t have one,’ Lando mumbled again. ‘Just Lando.’ 

‘That must be super hard, hey?’ 

Lando shrugged. His tummy rumbled. 

‘You hungry?’ Oscar stroked Lando’s hair back gently. 

Lando shrugged again. He was hungry but if Oscar was going to go, he’d rather not think about it until he was big again. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it now. 

‘How about this. I’m going to order us some food because I think your tummy must be really hungry if it’s making noises like that. And then I’m going to help you have a wash because I think that will help you feel better too. And after that we can go back to my room and have a cuddle and a good night’s sleep and I’ll find someone to come and change your bed’ - Lando cringed, but Oscar kept talking gently, stroking Lando’s hair. ‘And then tomorrow you can choose if you want to come back here or if you want to stay with me.’ 

Lando sighed out through his nose, and felt more tears squeeze out from the corners of his eyes. He really wished he would stop crying because he wasn’t a baby but he just couldn’t because everything just felt so much. Oscar wasn’t going to leave him. He was probably just being nice because he was Oscar and Oscar was nice, but Lando would take nice right now. He’d take dinner, and he’d take a shower, and he’d take falling asleep in someone else’s arms, even if he didn’t get to keep it forever. He nodded against Oscar’s side. 

Oscar swiped the pad of his thumb over Lando’s cheek, drying some of the tears, and kissed the top of his head very gently. ‘Come on then, you. Let’s go.’ 

Chapter Text

Oscar helped him stand, then gently led Lando back to his room, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, guiding him slowly down the corridor. Lando leaned into his side the whole time, bare feet padding over the hotel carpet. The world still felt too big and too bright, but Oscar’s room wasn’t far away, and he could feel Oscar rubbing his shoulder with his thumb and whispering so brave, what a good boy, nearly there the whole way. 

It smelled like Oscar when they stepped inside. Warm, familiar, and safe. So overwhelmingly safe. Lando exhaled shakily as the door clicked shut behind them. 

Oscar led Lando to his bed, sat him gently down, then crouched in front of him. 

‘I think you’re going to feel better if you have a bath, hmm?’ 

Lando felt his cheeks flush, and he looked at the floor and nodded. 

‘Do you want me to help, or can you do it by yourself?’ Oscar asked, softly. 

Lando worried maybe he was already too much. Oscar wanted him to shower by himself even though he wasn’t sure he could even remember how to. He lifted his sore thumb to his mouth, but Oscar gently caught his elbow. 

‘That looks sore, hey? Do you want me to go and fetch your dummy?’ 

Lando blinked owlishly at Oscar a couple of times before he shook his head. 

‘Don’t have one.’ 

‘Ah.’ Oscar looked around his room, then back at Lando, apologetically. ‘We’ll see if we can get you one, alright? To use when your thumb’s sore, we don’t want to make it any worse.’ 

Lando heard himself whine when Oscar pushed his arm down slowly, a needy little noise that came right from the back of his throat, and squeezed his eyes closed. His thumb was how he’d always soothed himself, and he felt lost without it. Oscar stood and wrapped his arms around Lando, brushing his hair back from his forehead and shushing him gently. 

After a few moments of quiet cuddles, he spoke.

‘I think you’ve been on your own for a while, haven’t you, love?’ His voice was gentle, but Lando still bristled a little. He had been on his own for a while, but he’d always managed.

‘I can do it,’ he whispered, voice muffled against Oscar’s t-shirt.

‘You can, and you’ve done a great job.’ Oscar ran his fingertips through Lando’s hair again. ‘But it’s ok to let someone else have a go, you know.’ 

Lando swallowed around a lump in his throat. He’d never had anyone else. He let out a shaky sigh  and closed his eyes and leant into Oscar. The want want want felt bigger than it ever had done, and he was so scared, but he’d also never felt more safe. He’d never had anyone else, but maybe…

‘Shall we go and get the bath started, hmm?’ 

Oscar didn’t rush Lando to move, just kept his fingers carding through his curls until Lando gave a tiny nod. 

‘Ok, love,’ Oscar murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head, before gently letting go. 

Lando immediately felt lost without Oscar’s calming warmth enveloping him. But Oscar held out his hand, with a quiet, crinkly-eyed smile, and helped him to his feet before leading him to the bathroom. He lowered the lid of the toilet and sat Lando down, then turned to run the bath. 

Lando rubbed his eyes with his fists, and watched the steam curl up the shower screen. He felt small and sleepy, all floaty edges, and he jumped slightly when Oscar’s hand landed gently on his arm again, stopping him from putting his thumb in his mouth. He pouted, just a little, and a little furrow appeared between his brows. Oscar just smiled. 

‘Do you want me to help you get ready?’ he asked, as he rubbed his thumb back and forth against Lando’s arm, reassuring him. 

Lando nodded, softening as Oscar lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist. ‘We’ll find something to help with your poorly thumb too.’ 

Oscar undressed Lando carefully, patiently. Moving with a gentleness that bordered on reverence, murmuring soft little phrases - good boy, you’re doing so well, being so brave - that made Lando feel surrounded by safe. 

By the time Oscar helped him into the bath, Lando was shaking a little. Everything felt very overwhelming, felt very big, and Lando had never felt so small. 

The water was perfectly warm. Oscar gave a sheepish little smile as he apologised for there being no bubbles, and said something about maybe next time, and Lando’s chest ached with want want want, and he trembled as Oscar knelt beside the bath and cupped water in his hands to gently pour over Lando’s shoulders. 

‘I’ve got you,’ he murmured. ‘Just relax, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.’ 

Lando felt the ache again, the want in his chest, and he squeezed his eyes closed and tried not to cry. He couldn’t explain to Oscar why he was crying even if he tried, deep in the fuzziness of his headspace.

Oscar held a soft flannel and wiped Lando’s cheeks with it. He touched him gently, like Lando might break, and kept up a quiet stream of praise. 

‘Almost done now, sweetheart.’ 

Lando felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into his headspace with every gentle touch, every time Oscar breathed quiet praise to him. He leant into the want, absolutely powerless to resist. 

He barely remembered moving, but he found himself wrapped in a fluffy hotel towel then in one of Oscar’s hoodies which felt too big and smelled of Oscar, familiar and safe in a way that made him want to cry.  

Oscar wrapped a plaster around his sore thumb when he was dry. It felt wrong and Lando whined but Oscar just pressed a kiss over the top of the plaster and said what a brave boy, and Lando didn’t mind so much.   

There was food, too. Something warm and soft and delicious and almost definitely not Jon-approved. Oscar fed him one spoonful at a time while Lando curled under the covers and leaned against him. The telly was on, low, but neither of them were really watching. 

At one point, Oscar reached over and swiped his thumb against the corner of Lando’s mouth, cleaning up mess from where Lando had opened his mouth too late, and called him a good boy. Lando blinked up at him, and felt the final pull all the way into his little headspace. 

Oscar must have noticed because his expression became unbearably soft, and he said, ‘oh, there you are,’ with a little smile, and Lando thought that was a silly thing to say because he’d been here the whole time, so he opened his mouth and Oscar laughed through his nose as he loaded up another spoon. 

Before they went to bed, Oscar made Lando go to the bathroom and use the toilet, before brushing his teeth for him using the little plastic hotel toothbrush. It felt strange having someone else brush his teeth. Lando blinked sluggishly and rubbed at his eyes and tried to bat away Oscar’s hand as he wiped off the toothpaste around Lando’s mouth with the soft flannel. 

‘Come on, tired boy, let’s go to sleep,’ Oscar said quietly, and took Lando’s hand and led him back to the bedroom. 

Lando curled into Oscar’s side when they got into bed, and rubbed the sheets between his fingers. Oscar ran his fingers through his hair, and Lando listened to his heartbeat and tried to match their breathing. Oscar was reading something from his phone but Lando didn’t really listen to the words, just the sound of his voice, low and kind and safe. Everything was soft and blurry and warm. 

Just before sleep pulled him under, Lando whispered, ‘You’ll still be here tomorrow?’ He closed his eyes and felt Oscar’s arms tighten around him. 

‘I’ll be right here, love. I promise.’

-

Lando woke first, slowly. 

He was warm, too warm, and the light filtering through the curtains was soft and golden, but insistent. The kind of light that meant morning had been here for a while already. Oscar’s hoodie was bunched up around his waist. One of his arms was pressed against Oscar’s chest. 

He blinked against the light and slowly pulled his hand back, fingers curling into a fist before he tucked it under his chin. 

Everything felt too quiet. Still soft, but not the same soft as the night before. It was tinged with a heaviness that Lando couldn’t quite place. 

He was big again. He still felt fuzzy round the edges, but it felt distant. A separation of his selves. Big enough to feel the ache of his sore thumb again. Enough to remember the way Oscar had fed him, bathed him, called him sweetheart. Found him. Kept him safe. Held him like he was something precious. 

He felt his face flush hot with shame. 

The ache in his chest - the want want want - was still there, but it felt jagged now. He hadn’t meant to fall that far. Hadn’t meant to need that much. 

Lando swallowed hard and tried to roll away without waking Oscar. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled the sleeves of Oscar’s hoodie down past his hands, pressed his toes into the carpet. He didn’t even know what time it was. His thoughts were already racing, his panic rising, shallow little breaths catching in his throat. Shame crawled up the back of his neck. 

Too much. He’d needed too much. 

He rubbed at his jaw with his palm, trying to remember to breathe. He imagined his mum, counting in and out for four, her kind eyes as she talked him through his emotions. 

When he’d learned about his classification, he was the first in his family to be a little for over a century. They’d had to learn so much so quickly, and Lando had always felt so guilty. Cisca always dismissed him. ‘You are my son Lando, of course I want to look after you,’ she’d say, but soon after, Lando had begged them to let him start on blockers. He saw it as much as a way of taking the responsibility from his parents, really. Remove the burden of him. 

And yet, here he was, falling deeper into his headspace than he ever had done before, in front of Oscar, in front of his teammate. And asking so much, needing so much, and Oscar… Well, Oscar just gave, gave Lando everything he needed, and it felt so overwhelming. 

The bathroom felt like a safe place to hide. Just until he could breathe again. 

He stood, quietly, carefully, and padded across the room. But just as he reached the bathroom door, he heard movement behind him. 

‘Lando?’ Oscar’s voice was rough with sleep. 

He stopped. 

A pause. The rustle of sheets. Then Oscar’s voice, devastatingly gentle. 

‘Hey… hey, it’s alright. Where are you going?’ 

Lando didn’t turn around. His voice was hoarse when he finally answered. ‘Just needed the bathroom.’ 

‘Ok.’ Another pause. Then, softer still: ‘Come back when you’re ready.’ 

Lando nodded, hummed in his throat. He stood for a moment. He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. He wanted to cry, maybe, but the tears were stuck and all that were coming were shaky little breaths. 

He went into the bathroom. Closed the door, and slid down until he was on the floor with his knees tucked up under his chin. Shaky little breaths. Cisca’s kind eyes. In for four, out for four. He squeezed his eyes closed. 

It wasn’t long before he heard a gentle knock. 

‘Lando?’ 

‘I’m fine.’ His voice cracked, and he hated it. 

Oscar didn’t push. Just said, very quietly, very gently, ‘You don’t have to come out yet. But I’ll be right here, ok? When you’re ready.’ 

Lando didn’t answer, but the tears that had been threatening since he woke up stung his eyes. 

He pressed his thumbs into the corners of his eyes and exhaled shakily. The problem was, he wasn’t sure he would ever be ready. How could he go back out there and face Oscar when not 24 hours ago he’d been lying in a bed he’d wet, crying and pitiful and needing so much. How could he ever look him in the eye, knowing that he’d seen him like that, cared for him like that, been so soft and gentle, all because Lando had been so pathetic. 

He knew Oscar was standing the other side of the door, but there was a quiet stretch of time filled only by the distant hum of the city outside and Lando’s shaky breathing as he tried to remember to count to four each time. 

Then, Oscar’s voice, low and careful. 

‘I’m sorry it feels awful right now. I bet your brain is saying a load of nasty things, but you need to know that none of it is true, Lando.’ 

Lando squeezed his eyes shut. Hot tears tracked their way down his cheeks. He felt a sob in his throat and swallowed hard. 

‘You were brave, Lando. You didn’t ask for too much. You needed something, and you let me help. That is so brave.’ 

Lando swallowed again, but a tiny, broken noise escaped. He hated how badly he wanted to believe that. How much he wanted to open the door, to curl back up next to Oscar and hide. But the shame felt bigger. 

‘I shouldn’t… I mean it’s not… it’s not right, I shouldn’t…’ Lando whispered, more to himself than to Oscar. 

A beat, and then he whispered, ‘I wet the bed.’ 

There was a long silence on the other side of the door. A sigh. Lando cringed. He was needing again, needing too much, wanting too much from Oscar. 

But then, Oscar’s voice again. 

‘There’s nothing wrong with it Lando. You’re a little. It… it happens.’ His voice was tighter than it had been, as though he was a little frustrated. Lando thought maybe he’d pushed too far, but when Oscar spoke again, after a deep breath, his voice was soft and kind again. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong, Lando. You were perfect. You were so, so good.’ 

Lando pressed his forehead against his knees. He felt like his skin didn’t fit right. Everything inside him was too loud. The panic, the shame, the aching want he’d tried so hard to bury for so long. 

He sniffed hard and pulled the sleeves of Oscar’s hoodie down over his hands again. He felt like he didn’t deserve to be wearing it. It was soft and warm and it smelled like Oscar, like safety and comfort, and he didn’t deserve it. 

He pressed the fabric to his face anyway. 

Oscar didn’t say anything, but Lando could feel him through the door anyway. His presence was quiet and steady, not pushing or prying. Just… there. Reminding him that he wasn’t alone. 

Maybe Oscar had meant it when he’d said Lando hadn’t asked for too much. When he said he’d been good. Been perfect. He desperately wanted to believe. 

‘I didn’t mean to need so much,’ he said, in a voice so quiet it was barely audible.  

‘Needing isn’t wrong, love.’ Oscar’s voice came through the door, soft and grounding. 

Lando let out a shaky breath and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

Needing isn’t wrong, love. Lando replayed it over and over in his mind while he tugged absently at the cuffs of Oscar’s hoodie. The floor was cold. The light was too bright. He watched it trickle from the ceiling and pool on the floor. Needing isn’t wrong, love.

-

His limbs felt stiff as he unfolded himself and got to his feet. His knees ached. He hadn’t realised how tightly he’d been curled. His hand hovered over the door handle. His heart was hammering. He didn’t even know what he’d say. Nothing felt right. 

He opened the door. Slowly. Carefully. Gentle inches until he was almost face to face with Oscar. Oscar, who was wearing the softest expression Lando had ever seen. Oscar, who felt like home and comfort and safety. Oscar, who hadn’t asked anything of Lando, but who’d just given, without ever making Lando feel like he was too much.  

Lando hovered in the doorway. He felt exposed, stripped bare. More seen than he’d ever felt before. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked down at the floor. He nudged his foot forward until his toes were scrunched in the carpet. 

‘I…’ he began, and then stopped. He swallowed. He wiggled his toes. 

Oscar held out a hand, slowly, carefully. ‘You don’t have to say anything,’ he said gently.

Lando looked up at him. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure how.

Oscar was blurry through tears that hadn’t fallen yet. Lando sniffed hard and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. Oscar’s sleeve, he supposed. He hoped he wouldn’t mind. He didn’t think he would. 

‘I wish I wasn’t… like this,’ he said, quietly. He looked back down at the floor. When he blinked, tears rolled down his cheeks. He wiped them away and sniffed again. ‘If I could get rid of it, I would. I would do it as soon as someone told me I could. I wouldn’t care about anything other than it being gone. I hate it, I hate it so much. If someone told me, 'it’s gonna be risky but it might work’, I’d do it.’ Lando stopped, and he looked at Oscar. 

He looked so sad, eyes so full of understanding. He put his hand down and Lando felt bad that he hadn’t taken it. 

‘I can’t imagine what that must feel like.’ His voice was so soft, barely above a whisper. 

‘I don’t want it, Oscar. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to need anything. I don’t want to have to worry about making sure I get enough time in my headspace to be able to just… work. I don’t want to have to think about any of this.’ 

Lando could hear his voice rising, feel the tension and anxiety of the morning pouring out of him.

‘And then… and then…’ he inhaled shakily, pulled the cuffs over his hands again. Looked down at the floor, flexed his toes against the carpet. ‘And then you came along and you made me forget that I hated it, and I had all this… this want and I didn’t know what to do with it and I tried to ignore it and I tried to avoid you, but you found me, and now… I don’t know how to not want. And I’m scared because I still hate it, I hate it so much, but…’ 

He trailed off, looked back up at Oscar. 

Oscar didn’t say anything, but he held his hand out again, and this time Lando took it. He pulled Lando in, slowly, gently, and enveloped him in a hug. 

Lando stayed stiff in his arms for a few seconds. His heart was still thudding, his chest was still aching from the want of something he wasn’t sure he could have. But then Oscar’s hand moved, rubbing slow circles on his back, and Lando let himself fold in, bit by bit, until his forehead was tucked into Oscar’s neck and his fists were curled in the fabric of his t shirt. 

Oscar kept holding him steady. No pressure. No questions. Just slow circles on Lando’s back, and his chest rising and falling, calm and predictable. Lando tried to match his breathing. 

He closed his eyes as he mumbled, ‘I didn’t know it could feel like that.’ His voice was muffled against Oscar’s chest. ‘I didn’t know I could feel that small. That… safe.’ 

Oscar’s hand didn’t stop moving. He hummed in the back of his throat. ‘I’m glad you felt safe. You were.’ 

Lando pulled back, just enough to look at him. ‘But what if it happens again?’ he asked, barely above a whisper. ‘What if I go that deep again and I just… can’t come back up?’ 

Oscar’s expression didn’t falter. ‘That’s not how it works, Lando,’ he said softly. 

‘Yeah… but what if, what if I haven’t done it properly before and my headspace is, I dunno, broken or something and I can’t?’ 

‘It isn’t how it works Lando,’ Oscar said with a gentle smile. Lando opened his mouth to argue but Oscar carried on before he could say anything. ‘But if that happened then I’d look after you. Until you didn’t need me. Probably even after that.’ 

That made Lando’s throat ache all over again. He looked away, tucked himself back against Oscar’s chest, worrying at a loose thread on Oscar’s sleeve, before whispering, ‘Don’t you think I’m too much?’ 

Oscar paused, and Lando felt his heart skip. But then he kissed the top of his head, before saying, ‘No, I think you’re just right. And I want to look after you.’ 

Lando scoffed. 

‘It’s true, Lando. I want to look after you. It’s as important for me to have someone to look after as it is for you to be looked after. I think my Caregiver needs your little.’ 

Lando pushed away and looked at Oscar, studying his face to make sure he was telling the truth. He’d never really considered that a Caregiver might need a little. ‘You… you need this too?’ 

Oscar nodded slowly. ‘It’s part of my biology too, Lando. It’s not the same but… yeah. I need this too. It gets heavy, you know? When I don’t have someone to care for.’ He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘I guess you’ve never had to think of that, hey?’ 

It made sense, Lando supposed. Sure, he’d known a bit about it, but he’d never really connected the dots. He knew Max’s mum was a Caregiver; he’d always complained about how much she needed to look after him when she was between littles, even though he was a baseline. There was always a kind of exasperated fondness in his stories, an undertone of it’s ok because she can’t help it. Lando had avoided her at the tracks after he’d got his classification, but she’d always seemed nice. 

He breathed in shakily. 

‘Guess I never have,’ he whispered. 

‘Look, I understand if… if this is all too much or if it’s something you don’t want, and you want to… to say no, or whatever. But that needs to be because you don’t want it, not because you think I don't want it.’ Oscar met Lando’s eyes and looked so sincere, Lando wanted to burst into tears. ‘Because I do, Lando. I do want it. I want you.’ 

Lando’s chest ached. He looked down, and nodded once. ‘I do want it.’ 

He sniffed, breathed in, and then, in a tiny voice - ‘I’m scared.’ 

Oscar pulled him in tight against his chest, and said, ‘I know, baby.’ His chest rumbled against Lando’s when he spoke. 

They stayed like that, tangled together, sharing heartbeats and breaths and unspoken worries.

Lando hadn’t noticed the fuzziness of his headspace creeping up on him, not until Oscar shifted slightly, loosening the hug, and a soft whine escaped before he could stop it. He tried to cover it, tried to clear his throat instead, but he could feel Oscar’s eyes on him, and imagined his knowing little smile. His cheeks flushed. 

‘Breakfast?’ 

Lando nodded, and Oscar shifted just enough to wrap an arm around him and guide him to the bed. 

‘Sit,’ he said gently, and Lando obeyed, letting himself drop onto the edge of the mattress. 

Oscar fetched a bottle of water from the mini bar fridge and handed it to Lando. 

‘Small sips. You’ve been crying a while.’ 

Lando smiled a little around the bottle as he took his first sip. 

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, looking down at the floor again. 

Oscar crouched in front of him. He waited a beat until Lando flicked his eyes up to meet his. ‘You don’t have to thank me for caring, Lando.’ 

Lando blinked, shrugged. ‘Kinda feels like I should.’ 

Oscar gave him a little crooked smile. Lando thought maybe it looked sad around the edges. ‘Then I’ll thank you back, for trusting me. Deal?’ 

Lando managed a tiny nod. He sipped the water, and thought about how Oscar had said I want you. 

— 

They passed the morning comfortably. Oscar ordered breakfast, and they sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders touching, to eat off the room service trolley. 

Oscar was so soft, raising an eyebrow at Lando’s hand skipping over the fruit and going straight to the pastries, and smiling softly as he brushed crumbs off Lando’s hands. He poured juice, and opened a little carton of yoghurt, handing it over to Lando with a spoon. Lando desperately wanted to lean into Oscar again, to have him spoon feed him and tell him how good he was. 

The world was starting to press in again - emails, PR schedules, paddock time - and he felt like his head was full of static. When Oscar gently suggested they start to get ready, Lando tucked his thumb into his fist and rubbed at the plaster Oscar had put on so carefully. He wanted to stay and cuddle and suck his thumb and feel small and safe, but instead he stood slowly. 

Oscar stood too, pressing Lando against his chest. Lando breathed out. He could feel his big headspace fraying at the edges. 

‘Why don’t you have a shower and I’ll go and get some things from your room?’ Oscar murmured against Lando’s hair. Lando nodded, but when Oscar moved away gently, Lando held onto him and nuzzled against his neck. He wasn’t ready to let go, not just yet. 

Oscar hummed in his throat and stroked Lando’s hair. Let him hold on for a couple more minutes before slowly pulling away. ‘Come on, love. Time to get ready.’ 

Lando whined. Oscar smiled indulgently, then put his hands on Lando’s shoulders and pointed him at the bathroom. ‘Go shower, Lando.’ 

Oscar had been back to Lando’s room by the time he emerged, rubbing his hair with a towel and smelling like Oscar’s body wash, and his things were folded neatly and piled on the corner of the desk. Lando smiled a little, because Oscar’s own belongings weren’t nearly as carefully organised. It was maybe silly how much it made him feel taken care of, like he was precious enough for Oscar to care about.  

He grabbed his team polo, trying not to think about how much his headspace ached in the base of his skull. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the morning to end. To leave the safe. 

He hesitated before pulling the top on. The material felt wrong against his skin. Too stiff, too rough. Too… grown up. He pulled his hoodie over the top, and thought longingly of the way Oscar’s hoodie had felt so soft and so safe, smelled like Oscar. He fiddled with the hood, pulled the strings, fidgeted with the sleeves. 

He caught his reflection in the mirror. His hair wasn’t sitting right. He ruffled it, then tried to flatten it. The more he tried to fix it, the worse it looked. He huffed an exasperated breath, shoved his hands in his pockets. 

He saw Oscar come up behind him quietly, holding out a bottle of water and a protein bar. 

‘You should take these with you.’

‘I can get them myself,’ Lando said sharply, voice too loud in the soft room. 

Oscar didn’t flinch. He just nodded, and set them on the desk instead. ‘I know.’ 

Lando clenched his jaw. He hadn’t meant to snap. But everything inside him felt wrong. He didn’t want Oscar to leave. He didn’t want Oscar to help. He didn’t know what he wanted. 

Before they left, Lando slipped the bottle of water and protein bar in his backpack. He didn’t meet Oscar’s eye, and Oscar didn’t say anything. 

—

They left the hotel together. The city buzzed around them. Lando adjusted his sunglasses but the light still felt too sharp. He walked a little too fast to the car that was waiting for them. 

Oscar didn’t say much on the drive over. They both sat in the back, and Oscar occasionally looked over at Lando. Lando looked out of the window and tried to ignore the ache that pressed at the base of his skull. 

In the paddock, everyone moved around them like clockwork, and Lando slipped into the rhythm easily. Smiles where he needed to smile, nods where he needed to nod. His voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. 

One of the marketing team greeted them brightly, gave an outline of the day, and said, ‘sound ok?’ at the end. 

‘Yeah, all good,’ Lando replied. He hoped it didn’t sound fake. 

Oscar hovered nearby. He wasn’t crowding, but Lando could feel him. He picked at the label on his water bottle. His lanyard felt itchy against his neck and his socks felt too tight. He sighed. 

‘You ok?’ Oscar murmured, so soft only Lando could hear. 

‘I’m fine. I have to be.’ It came out quick, automatic. Sharper than Lando had intended. 

Oscar didn’t push. 

Half an hour later, Lando was sitting in hospitality, waiting for their next media call time. He could hear the paddock thrum around him. Too many people, too much noise. Too much everything. His stomach was tight. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this unsteady, not somewhere that was so familiar. 

He caught Oscar’s eye, sitting a table just over from Lando. Oscar didn’t say anything, just gave him the smallest nod. A quiet reminder: I’m here. 

Lando’s chest ached. He hated how much it helped. Hated how much harder it was to stay big when he knew what safe felt like now. 

-

Settling on the low sofa in the press conference, he found himself wishing Oscar had been scheduled at the same time. Instead, he sat with Lance and Nyck, anxiously chewing at the side of his thumb, just above the plaster Oscar had softly kissed last night, an apology for taking away Lando's comfort. He imagined Oscar gently pushing his elbow down, pulling his thumb out of his mouth. His chest tightened. He wished he hadn’t thought about Oscar. He put his hand in his lap anyway, pulling the cuffs of his hoodie down over his fingers. 

‘First question for Lando - how are you feeling ahead of this weekend?’ 

He forced a calm smile. ‘I’m feeling… ok.’ His voice cracked a little and he cleared his throat. ‘I’m just focusing on what we can control, I guess. The car, the prep. Me.’ 

Not falling into headspace. The words fell into his brain, uninvited, unwanted. Lando shook his head slightly. He thought about tucking his thumb into his mouth, about the warmth of Oscar as he curled up next to him. 

He realised the next question had started. He pulled himself back into the room. His little headspace felt closer to the surface than was comfortable. He needed to get a grip. 

‘…more confidence this season. Do you feel ready?’ 

‘Confident…’ Lando started, slowly, as if testing the word. ‘I think I’m calmer. Race weekends are always big, I just think I know how to balance the pressure and the nerves now.’ 

He fidgeted with his sleeves while the other drivers fielded questions. He chewed his lip and tried not to think about the ache in his skull, the want want want in his chest. He curled his toes in his trainers, and pressed his palms against his thighs. 

‘Another for Lando - would you say the car is challenging?’ 

Lando swallowed. Right now, driving a car felt a million miles away. He couldn’t remember if the car was challenging. Everything felt challenging right now. 

‘It’s fine. I think we’re learning what to expect now. I don’t want to make excuses, just want to... do the job?’ 

He hadn’t meant for the last sentence to be a question, had intended for it to come out as a definitive statement, a show of confidence, of strength. Instead, it had almost crept out with an upwards inflection. Maybe people wouldn’t notice. He wasn’t sure he cared that much. 

They wrapped up and Lando stood quickly, giving a half-smile to the other drivers and shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket. Walking out of the press room as quickly as he could.

He needed Oscar. 

Chapter Text

Lando pulled his hood up as he walked through the paddock. He wished he’d gone back to his room before they left this morning to pick up his headphones. Everything felt like too much. He wondered if the paddock was always this loud. He stroked the soft lining of his hoodie sleeves and tried not to think about how much he wanted Oscar. 

As he reached McLaren, he could sense Oscar before he saw him. It felt almost like he was reaching out for him. He pretended not to notice the way Oscar softened the moment he saw Lando. It felt too real. 

He felt silly, after all. Ridiculous, for the way he’d bolted from the press conference because the want want want in his chest had threatened to burst out, unless he found Oscar right away. 

And now that he had, Lando couldn’t bring himself to ask for the comfort he knew he needed. 

Oscar approached him, slowly, with a little smile. His calming presence made Lando bristle. He resented how easily Oscar seemed to know what he needed. 

‘You ok?’ Oscar asked, gently resting a hand on Lando’s shoulder. 

Lando shrugged him off, immediately regretting it. He ached for Oscar to touch him, to reassure him. To make everything better, instead of it all feeling so off-balance. 

No, he wanted to say. Everything is so overwhelming  and I don’t know what I’ve done and I don’t know how to fix it, and I don’t know how to ask you to make everything better.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, instead, eyes on the ground. Fidgeting with his sleeves. He ignored the way Oscar looked at him with worried eyes. 

But Oscar didn’t push, he let his hand drop to his side, and stepped back just enough to give Lando room to breathe. That only made it worse. 

Lando didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted to go back to before, when he didn’t know what it felt like to be small and soft and safe. When he was getting by on scheduled drops and suppressing his headspace. 

He realised he hadn’t taken his blockers that morning. He squeezed his eyes tight and rubbed his jaw with the palm of his hand. His thoughts were racing. 

‘Lando?’ Oscar’s voice cut through the noise of Lando’s brain. 

He opened his eyes and looked at Oscar, at the worry that painted his face. ‘I forgot my blockers,’ he whispered.  

Oscar’s expression shifted. Not shocked, just knowing and impossibly gentle. Lando looked away.

‘Do you want me to go back and get them?’

Lando shook his head. He still couldn’t bring himself to look at Oscar. ‘I think it’s too late.’

Oscar didn’t say anything right away. Just stood beside him, steady and quiet. 

‘Ok,’ he eventually said, softly. ‘Then we just deal with now.’ 

Lando swallowed hard. His throat felt too tight. He hated how kind Oscar was being. Hated that it made his eyes sting. 

‘Aren’t you gonna… I dunno, say something? About the blockers.’

‘Do you want me to?’ Oscar’s voice was calm and steady. 

Lando closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. ‘I mean, I just… aren’t you, like, surprised or something?’ 

‘Honestly, Lando, I think I would have been more surprised if you weren’t taking them.’ 

‘And you’re not, like… you’re not mad at me or anything?’ Lando hated how little his voice sounded. He worried at a bit of loose skin on his lip between his teeth. 

Oscar tilted his head, and looked at Lando with a soft expression.

‘I’m not mad at you, no. I think maybe we can have a conversation about it another time, but right now I think we need to deal with right now.’ 

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Lando said, voice barely audible over the hum of the paddock.

Oscar stepped a little closer. Not crowding - just close enough. The noise dimmed a little. Lando exhaled shakily. 

‘Do you want to come with me to my driver’s room?’ Oscar asked. ‘It’s quieter there.’ 

Lando nodded, before he could think too much about it. 

They walked side by side, not touching. The air felt too thick. Lando pressed his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie, focusing on the rub of fabric against his palms. Nothing felt right. He wished he was in Oscar’s hoodie, feeling soft and safe. He kept his eyes down. 

Oscar led them through a quieter corridor and into his driver’s room. The moment the door closed behind them, Lando let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. 

The room was still. Cool. Dimmer than the paddock. Lando hovered awkwardly near the seating, balling his hands into fists, tucked deep in his sleeves. He didn’t sit. 

Oscar crouched by the little fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He twisted open the cap and held the bottle out to Lando. ‘Here.’ 

Lando took it with shaky hands. He spilt a little on the floor as he lifted it to his lips and sipped. The cold against his mouth grounded him a little. 

Oscar stayed close, watching him with the kind of quiet calm Lando was already learning to expect. It was a softness that made Lando want to cry and scream and throw himself into Oscar’s arms, all at once. 

‘You’re doing ok,’ Oscar murmured. 

Lando shook his head. ‘I’m not. I feel…’ He rubbed a hand over his forehead, squeezed his eyes shut. Opened them to look at Oscar. ‘I feel like I’m going to fall apart, Oscar,’ he said, quietly. 

‘I’m here.’ Oscar didn’t move, just looked at Lando with a gentle expression. ‘I’ve got you.’ 

Lando hated how easy it would be to give in. Hated how much he wanted to. 

‘I can’t,’ he whispered. ‘Not here. Not today.’ 

Oscar nodded, like he understood. Lando let out a shuddering breath. He took a step closer. 

He felt like he was about to shatter into a million pieces.

He leaned forward just enough that their arms brushed, then a little more, until he was pressing himself into the crook of Oscar’s neck. He inhaled. Safe, familiar. Oscar. He let out a strangled little sob. His cheeks were wet with tears he didn’t know were already falling. 

Oscar didn’t say anything. Just curled his arms around Lando, and held him. Rubbed gentle circles on his back and whispered shh shh shh against his hair, until everything felt a little less overwhelming. 

—

‘We should go back out.’ Lando spoke quietly, but it still felt like he was fracturing the comfortable peace of the room. 

He’d stopped crying. Oscar reached up and wiped his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. Lando nearly started crying again at how tender it all felt. He sniffed instead and Oscar had smiled at him. 

‘Are you sure?’ 

Lando wasn’t sure. Every part of him was screaming at him not to go back out. He wanted to retreat, to hide, to go back to the hotel with Oscar and curl up in his hoodie, in his bed, in his arms. But he couldn’t. He had to keep going. No one could find out he was a little, which meant he had to pretend everything was fine. 

He nodded. 

Oscar nodded slowly back at him, and moved to open the door. His hand hesitated on the handle. For a moment, Lando was sure he’d ask again - are you sure? - and he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie twice. But Oscar just opened it, quiet and careful, and held it open for him. 

The noise of the paddock hit him like a wave. 

Lando squinted against the sudden brightness. He tugged his hood back up, like it might shield him from the weight of the world pressing in. He rubbed his fingers together against the cuff of his hoodie. Oscar walked quietly at his side, not touching, not saying anything. Just close enough to anchor him. 

Everything felt too much. He wished he’d said no, that they were still stood in the middle of Oscar’s driver’s room. 

It was too loud. Too many eyes. Too many people pretending they knew him, calling his name, asking for pictures, pressing pens into his hand. He pasted a smile on - brittle, tight - and kept walking. One foot in front of the other. Left hand rubbing at the cuff of his hoodie. 

Oscar kept glancing over at him. He was subtle, but it only made Lando feel antsy. He was checking up on him, and he didn’t want to be checked. Didn’t want to be worried over. He was fine. He had to be. 

Someone brushed past him, too close. Lando startled. Someone else holding their phone out for a selfie. Another fan falling in step, holding out a papaya cap for him to sign. He curled his hands tighter in his sleeves once he’d handed the cap back. Felt the seam rubbing against the back of his wrist. Imagined his mother’s voice counting in and out for four. Remembered to breathe. 

‘Lando, over here!’ A photographer was standing just a few metres away, and the click-click-click of the shutter sounded obnoxiously loud. Lando flinched. 

Oscar moved instinctively, just a little. He angled his body to block the shot, subtly but definitively stepping between Lando and the camera. Lando’s chest ached. 

He hated this. 

Hated that Oscar knew what to do. 

Hated that it helped. 

Hated that it all felt too big. 

They walked together to their next media engagement. Oscar was close enough that their shoulders brushed occasionally as they walked. Lando resisted the urge to lean into him. 

He gave short answers, nodding along to questions, letting his PR handler cut things off when she needed to. He was doing everything right. Everything expected. No one was looking too closely. Lando imagined the ache in the base of his skull getting smaller. That pretending to be alright was working.

Oscar was nearby. Lando didn’t look over, but he could feel him. Like gravity. 

He gave a PR-approved response to the last question, something about upgrades this weekend, and forced a smile as the interviewer thanked him.

As soon as they moved on, he ducked his head and let out a slow breath. Everything was so loud. He could hear drivers’ responses, interviewers’ questions, cameras clicking, fans cheering. The mechanics in the garage. A gust of wind tugged at the edge of his hood. He pulled it further forward, trying to hide. He wished he was anywhere else. 

‘You ok?’ Oscar stepped into his periphery. His voice was soft. He sounded concerned. 

Lando nodded quickly. ‘Fine, yeah. I’m just…there’s a lot going on.’ 

Oscar didn’t say anything but Lando could feel him looking. He didn’t want him to look. He didn’t want to be so seen. He turned away before Oscar could say something kind and reassuring. He wasn’t sure if he’d cry or snap. 

They walked back towards McLaren hospitality, the crowd thinning slightly. Lando rubbed the cuff of his sleeve, and tried not to think about putting his thumb in his mouth. His mind was racing. He wanted to run. Or hide. Or both. 

‘Do you want-’ Oscar started. 

‘No,’ Lando said, sharply. Too loud. He swallowed, adjusted his tone. ‘I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me.’ 

Oscar stopped talking. Just carried on walking beside him, silent and steady. 

Lando wished he’d say something. He wished he wouldn’t. 

He wished he could go back to when he didn’t know what it felt like to be small and safe, and so overwhelmingly cared for. Everything had been easier when he was pretending it didn’t exist. 

— 

When they got back to their team, someone from PR waved Lando over. Oscar gave him a questioning look. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ 

Lando hesitated. He wanted to say yes, wanted to stay close, tucked under Oscar’s gentle presence like a blanket. 

Instead he shook his head. ‘I’m fine.’ The lie tasted bitter in his mouth. 

Oscar just nodded, and turned to go inside. Lando missed him immediately. He wanted to grab his arm, tuck himself into his side, ask him to take him back to the hotel. Instead, he walked over to the PR team, fixing a smile on his face that immediately felt wrong. 

The moment Oscar had gone, everything had felt too loud and too bright and too much, and Lando could feel himself fraying at the edges again. His headspace was clawing its way into his consciousness with a ferocity he wasn’t sure he knew how to handle. Every voice sounded like it was shouting. His hoodie felt heavy and wrong. He could feel the seams of his socks. He ran his finger over the plaster on his thumb. He breathed in and out for four. He tried hard not to think about gentle arms and soft smiles and the way Oscar had said I want you. 

Someone from the team pressed a bottle of water into his hand and the condensation felt slick against his fingers. 

‘You ok, mate?’ they asked. Lando nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak without bursting into tears. 

‘You’ve got a bit of time, take five, we’ll come and get you.’ 

Lando nodded again. He moved on autopilot, walking towards his driver’s room. He tried to ignore the ache in his chest and the ache in his head and the want want want that was making his hands shake. He picked at the label on the bottle as he walked. He wanted Oscar. He wanted to leave. He had never felt so close to breaking. 

He tried to pretend he wasn’t disappointed when he reached his room without seeing Oscar. He let the door swing shut and sunk to the floor, pressing his back against the wall. He hugged his legs to his chest, rested his head on his knees. It had never been this hard to hold on to his big headspace before. He felt it slipping through his fingers, like when he tried to cup sand in his hands on the beach as a little boy. He exhaled shakily. 

What if he was broken now? What if this was it? Even though Oscar had smiled gently and said that’s not how it works, Lando - what if it was? Lando was willing to bet most littles weren’t avoiding drops as much as he was. Most littles hadn’t been taking blockers their entire adult life, never once having an unplanned drop. Never once having a proper drop, if he was being entirely honest with himself. Most littles weren’t fighting as hard against their biology as Lando had been from the day he learned he was a little.

He thought of Oscar saying it’s ok to let someone else have a go, you know. 

He choked out a sob. 

The problem was, Lando had always been so sure no one would want to. That he’d be too much. Asking for someone to take care of him felt… well, it had always felt like a burden. Too much pressure, too much hassle. 

And so he’d just dropped just enough to get by, as little as he could get away with. Just dipped his toe in, really, so he knew he could always pull himself back up if he had to. He remembered watching a video when he was younger, a TV ad maybe, something about the dangers of leaving littles on their own. They showed a cartoon little getting up to all sorts of dangerous things, and the message at the end was really geared towards being a better Caregiver. Lando remembered wondering at the time what happened to littles who didn’t have a Caregiver. As he got older, he realised he knew.

He roughly wiped the tears from his face. He’d always been ok on his own. He could cope because he always had to. But this felt different. This didn’t feel like the shallow dips at the very surface of his headspace he was familiar with. He could feel that this was different. This was much bigger - much deeper - than anything he’d felt before. And he wasn’t really sure if he could do this on his own. 

He lay down on the floor carefully, curled his knees into his chest, pulled his hood up. His whole body felt too heavy. His limbs were weighed down by panic and shame and the ache of want, right in the middle of his chest. He wanted Oscar. He wanted to hide. He wanted all of this to stop. 

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear someone crying. He didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound so sad, so lost, so desperate before. He sniffed, then realised the sound was coming from him. He sobbed harder. 

He could’t hold on to his big headspace at all. The edges danced just out of reach, like the tendrils of steam he’d watched unfurl as Oscar ran his bath. He couldn’t do it any more. He needed Oscar. He needed him to fix everything. 

He put his thumb in his mouth. The plaster tasted sour. It felt wrong. He sucked it anyway, hooking his index finger over the bridge of his nose. Hot, salty tears ran into the corners of his mouth. He’d stopped sobbing, but his breath came in shaky little hiccups. 

He wasn’t sure when it had happened but he realised dimly that he’d wet himself. He squeezed his eyes closed. He just wanted Oscar. 

There was a knock at the door. Lando couldn’t remember if he’d turned the lock or not. He tried to breathe as quietly as possible. Maybe if he stayed still, they’d go away. 

His nose was running and he wanted to sniff. Another sob caught in his throat. He was so tired and he was so scared. He wanted Oscar. 

Another knock. Then, ‘Lando? It’s me.’ 

Oscar’s voice was soft. 

Lando felt his breath hitch. He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His body felt too heavy still, weighed down by everything. He curled tighter into himself, thumb still in his mouth, hiccupping little breaths. 

A pause. Then the quiet click of the door handle turning. Lando hadn’t locked it. 

The door opened slowly. 

Lando didn’t look up. He couldn’t. If he was any closer to his big headspace, maybe he would have been mortified. Embarrassed at Oscar finding him like this again. But instead he squeezed his eyes closed and let out a thin noise that came right from the back of his throat. 

Oscar breathed, ‘Oh, baby,’ and Lando felt him get closer until he was kneeling right next to Lando’s head, stroking his hair and whispering shh shh shh. 

‘You’ve had a really, really hard time, huh?’ His voice was so soft, and Lando felt the want in his chest fracture. Splinter into a million pieces until there was only here and now and Oscar. Lando was entirely overwhelmed. Completely broken. Sobs wracked his body.

Oscar didn’t hesitate. He reached out and slowly, carefully, gathered Lando into his arms. He held him like he was made of porcelain and he might shatter if he touched him too hard. 

He didn’t flinch. Not when he realised Lando was wet. Not when Lando clung to him and gulped down tears and gasped for breaths and trembled like something feral and afraid. 

He just held him. Pulled him close, and stayed steadfast. A sanctuary in the middle of Lando’s storm. 

And Lando let himself be pulled in, burying his face in Oscar’s chest. Oscar smelled like soap and warmth and safe. Everything Lando couldn’t ask for, but desperately needed. 

Oscar moved his hand, rubbing his back in slow, steady circles. Lando tried to remember to breathe. 

‘You’re ok, love,’ Oscar whispered against Lando’s temple. ‘You’re safe. I’ve got you.’ 

Lando sniffed. His breath stuttered. He was still crying. 

Oscar shifted slightly, moving to sit fully on the floor, pressing his back against the wall and pulling Lando into his lap properly. 

‘There you are. My brave boy. That’s it,’ he soothed. ‘Today was a lot, wasn’t it, hmm? You did so well, you were so brave. I’ve got you now, I’m going to look after you.’ He stroked his hair and rocked him gently. 

Lando’s thumb was still in his mouth and his jeans were itchy where they were drying, but he didn’t feel embarrassed any more. Not with Oscar like this. Steady, warm, real. He let his body relax by degrees. He was still crying a little bit, but his breaths were steadying out. 

They stayed on the floor, Oscar rocking slightly as he held Lando. He was humming something under his breath, and Lando could feel his chest vibrate against his cheek. He reached down for the hem of Oscar’s t shirt, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and finger. He breathed through his nose and thought about how Oscar had called him his - my brave boy, he’d said. 

‘Hey,’ Oscar whispered after a little while. ‘Can I get you out of these clothes, sweetheart? Get you into something dry?’

Lando didn’t speak. Just gave a tiny, tired nod. 

Oscar kissed the top of his head. ‘Good boy. I’ll be quick. You’re doing so well.’ 

Lando kept his thumb in his mouth, blinking sleepily as Oscar gently helped him out of his damp clothes and into some soft sweatpants Lando had stashed on a shelf and a hoodie that still didn’t feel right. He realised it was because it wasn’t Oscar’s. He whined a little because he wasn’t sure how to use his words anymore, really, but Oscar gathered him up and sat on the edge of the seating with Lando pressed against his chest. 

‘Do you want a bath when we get back, hmm?’ He was rocking gently again, and Lando felt pliant and sleepy in his arms. ‘We’ll get you cleaned up and we can have an early night and we can try again tomorrow. You did so, so well today.’ 

Lando sighed against Oscar’s chest. Oscar pressed a kiss against his temple. 

-

They stayed like that for a while. Time felt strange, folded in Oscar’s arms, moving gelatinously around Lando as he listened to the steady heartbeat thrumming in Oscar’s chest. He felt sleepy and small. He was peripherally aware that he had responsibilities today, that he needed to stay big and be good, but his thumb was in his mouth (even though the plaster made it all feel wrong wrong wrong) and he was rubbing the hem of Oscar’s t-shirt and he could’t imagine being anywhere other than here and feeling anything other than safe. 

Eventually, Oscar stroked a hand down his back and murmured, ‘Let’s get you back to the hotel, hey, love?’ 

Lando whined in response, buried his face into Oscar’s chest, and sniffed loudly. Oscar waited a beat, hummed in the back of his throat, and jostled Lando gently. 

‘Hey, sleepy boy. I think we need to get back to the hotel, hmm? I think there might be some new things there for you too.’ 

Lando looked up, curiously. Oscar smiled down at him. 

‘Ah, I thought you might be interested in that.’ His voice was so gentle, and Lando rested his head against his chest again, looking up through his lashes. ‘Shall we go back and see what there is?’ 

Lando nodded slowly. He felt the prickle of his big headspace, flashes of lucidity in amongst the floaty, drowsy headspace he was currently occupying. He idly wondered how? but he couldn’t find the words so he made a tiny noise in the back of his throat and nuzzled into Oscar’s shoulder. 

‘I’ve got you, love. You don’t have to do anything. We’ll get you out to the car, ok? I’m guessing you don’t want me to carry you - ’

Lando shook his head quickly, even though his brain was full of want want want. He imagined Oscar picking him up and letting him wrap his legs around his waist, imagined tucking his face into Oscar’s neck and closing his eyes and just letting Oscar deal with everyone. He wished Oscar wasn’t the only person who knew he was a little. 

‘Ok, ok,’ Oscar rocked him slowly, his hand on his back to soothe him. ‘We won’t do that. You’ll need to walk, ok?’ 

Lando shook his head again, and Oscar laughed through his nose.

‘The sooner we go, the sooner we can get you back in bed, how about that?’ 

Lando whined, but he let Oscar gently untangle his hand from his t shirt. Oscar moved him slowly, with the same quiet care as the night before. He sat him on the edge of the seat, knelt in front of him and gently eased his feet into his trainers, tying his laces with a big floppy bow that Lando wouldn’t have been caught dead in normally. 

Instead, Lando blinked sleepily down at Oscar. Oscar smiled back up at him.

‘Hey you,’ he said quietly. ‘I need you to listen just for a minute, ok? I’m going to get you back to the hotel but you’ve got to hold on to being big for a little while longer, hmm? Just while we’re heading over to the car.’ 

Lando made a little noise around his thumb. He felt like crying. It felt so difficult to be anything other than little. 

Oscar stood, wrapping his arms around Lando. ‘Shh, shhh. I know baby,’ he whispered against his hair. ‘You’re doing so well, you’re being so good. Just one more thing and then we can be back in the hotel and you don’t have to do anything except let me look after you, ok?’ 

Lando leant against Oscar for a moment or two then nodded, just slightly but enough for Oscar to lean down and press a kiss in his hair. ‘Good boy.’ 

-

Lando blinked as they stepped out into the brightness of the paddock. Everything was immediately overwhelming, and he let out a tiny whimper. Oscar reached over and squeezed his hand, just once. 

It was all too loud, too bright. People moved in every direction. Voices layered over each other like static. The air felt thick and heavy. The light hurt his eyes. His hoodie felt too big and not big enough all at once, and he thought longingly of the familiar weight of his thumb in his mouth. 

He balled his hands into fists inside his sleeves instead. He felt like he was trying to hold on to the very last shreds of his big headspace.

Oscar walked close beside him. Not touching, not where people would see, but close enough that Lando could sense him, feel his steady warmth. It helped. A bit. 

Lando kept his head down. He focused on his feet. One step, then another. Left, right. He thought vaguely of driving lines, of looking for the markers he used to focus. He thought of their route as they walked. Ferrari, Mercedes, Red Bull, he noticed as they passed. Something familiar, to anchor him. He tried to remember to breathe. In, out, one two three four. He tried not to cry. 

Oscar shifted his body slightly, subtly, to block a group of fans trying to get their attention. Lando’s eyes stung. He was so very aware of how small he felt, right on the precipice of tipping all the way back into his little headspace. He blinked furiously. 

He was being good. He was walking. He was big. He had to be. 

A mechanic from one of the other garages called something out he didn’t hear. Lando didn’t look up. Oscar answered for him. 

In, out, one two three four. He kept his head down. Media pen, turnstiles. 

Almost there. So close. 

He could feel his hands trembling. His eyes were full of unshed tears. He sniffed. The car was just ahead now. Oscar opened the back door for him, and said softly, ‘In you go, love.’ 

Lando climbed in. He let out a shaky little breath as he pulled his knees up to his chest and pressed his forehead against them. 

Oscar slid into the seat next to him. He reached over to gently unfold his legs, guiding his feet to the floor and reaching over to do his seatbelt up. 

‘You did so well,’ he said, squeezing his knee gently. ‘You were so, so brave. Such a good boy.’ 

Lando, exhausted and trembling and barely holding on to any part of his big headspace, finally let his thumb drift back into his mouth. Oscar didn’t say a word. 

-

The car ride was quiet. 

Oscar didn’t talk, just sat close. One hand resting lightly on Lando’s knee, thumb brushing slow, steady circles. Lando sat with his thumb in his mouth, and his eyes shut. He’d pulled his hood up, and he looked so little. The motion of the car was slow and soothing. He sighed through his nose, feeling some of the tension of the day easing, just a little.

By the time they reached the hotel, Lando was dozing. Not quite asleep, but in the cosy little place between asleep and awake. He mumbled a little when the car stopped. Oscar leaned in to brush his hand down Lando’s arm, unbuckling his seatbelt. 

‘We’re here, love. Let’s get you inside.’ 

Lando frowned, eyes still closed. 

Oscar just kissed him on the forehead. ‘We can’t stay in the car.’ 

Lando frowned again, but he blinked his eyes open. His thumb slipped from his mouth.

Oscar got out of the car first, telling Lando to wait where he was before walking round and opening the door for him. He held out his hand and Lando reached out for it. They walked into the hotel together, not quite holding hands, but close enough that their shoulders brushed as they walked. 

Lando pressed close to Oscar in the lift, resting his forehead on Oscar’s shoulder and hooking his fingers in the hem of his t shirt. Oscar stroked the back of his head. ‘Nearly there,’ he whispered. 

Lando didn’t let go of Oscar as they left the lift, trailing behind him. Everything still felt so big. He whined a little in the back of his throat, but he wasn’t really sure why. 

Oscar just hummed, as he rooted in his backpack for the room key. He opened the door, gently guiding Lando in behind him, and making sure the door swung shut with a quiet click. He smiled gently at Lando standing by the bed, swaying slightly. 

‘Hey sweetheart,’ Oscar said softly, walking over to him. ‘Let’s make you more comfortable, yeah?’ 

Lando didn’t answer. He blinked slowly, and raised his thumb to his mouth. The plaster was still on there, and it still tasted sour and felt wrong. He still kept it there, though, sucking gently and hooking his finger over the bridge of his nose. 

Oscar smiled at him fondly. ‘I think we can get that sorted in a sec. I’ve got something for you that might help.’ 

Lando looked at him, tilting his head slightly, questioning.  

‘Bath first.’ Oscar leant forward and brushed a kiss against his temple. Lando liked how freely Caregiver Oscar gave him affection, grounding him and making him feel safe. He sighed a little around his thumb, like his contentedness had nowhere to go but out. 

He let Oscar guide him into the bathroom, sitting on the lid of the toilet seat again while Oscar ran the bath. He watched him sleepily. The steam curled up from the water. 

‘Still no bubbles I’m afraid.’ Oscar turned to Lando. ‘I’m working on it though.’ 

Lando wondered idly what he meant, as Oscar gently asked, ‘ready, baby?' and undressed him with gentle hands. He never rushed, he never made Lando feel embarrassed or ashamed, just kept touching him with the softest hands, grounding him with each movement. 

‘There you go,’ Oscar said, as he helped Lando into the bath. Lando sank down slowly, knees pulled up to his chest. His thumb was still in his mouth. His eyes fluttered closes as the warmth soaked into him. 

‘I’ll be right back, ok, I just need to make a quick call. Stay here.’  

Lando kept his eyes closed as he nodded.

‘My good boy.’ Oscar touched the top of his head. 

He relaxed his legs out in front of him, listened as Oscar padded quietly out of the bathroom. He tried to hear what Oscar was saying on the phone but everything felt fuzzy and far away. He opened his eyes and whined a little. 

‘Hey, hey, shhh. It’s ok, I’m back now.’ Oscar knelt by the side of the bath, rested his elbows on the edge and propped his chin in his hand.

Lando thought he maybe looked tired. He reached out with a wet hand to touch Oscar’s cheek. Oscar smiled, a proper crinkly-eyed smile and Lando looked at him with big eyes. He wondered what it would be like to call him Daddy. He thought he might like it. He wondered if Oscar would like it too.

Oscar gently lifted Lando’s hand away from his cheek and kissed his palm. ‘Can I get you cleaned up a bit now, hmm? And then we can put something comfy on, and rest up. It’s been a really big day and you’ve been so brave, haven’t you? How about you let me look after things for a bit?’ 

Lando thought he’d really, really like it if Oscar just held everything for him for a while. He was right, it had been a big day, but Lando wasn’t sure he’d been very brave about it. He wondered what Oscar had told everyone to get them out of the rest of the day’s plans. He was pretty sure there was a lot they were meant to be doing right now. He nodded sleepily. 

‘Maybe we can have a little nap too?’ Oscar asked, gently.

Lando wanted to shake his head, wanted to remind Oscar that he wasn’t a baby, he didn’t need naps, but he yawned so widely it made his eyes water and Oscar laughed gently and said, ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ Lando couldn’t really remember how to find the words to argue, so he just looked up at Oscar through his eyelashes.

He sat and let Oscar wash him gently, breathing through his nose and sucking his thumb. He only grumbled a little when Oscar carefully pulled his hand away from his face so he could wash it. He thought about trying his other thumb but it was all wrinkly from being in the bath and tasted wet and felt wrong so he pulled it out and looked up at Oscar. 

A knock on the door startled them both, and Lando felt like he might cry before Oscar kissed the top of his head and shushed him gently. ‘Stay right here, baby. I’ll be right back.’ 

Lando watched his hand trail through the water and listened to Oscar open the door and speak to someone, thank them, and close the door. 

When Oscar walked back in, he was carrying three boxes. He put the two biggest down by the door, and brought the third, a small, square one, over to Lando.

‘I hope you don’t mind, I bought you some things. I probably should have asked but…’ he smiled, a little sheepish. ‘I guess I wanted to spoil you a bit.’ 

Lando splashed water out of the bath as he reached out for the box. He couldn’t find the words to really describe how overwhelmed he felt by the idea of someone wanting to spoil him. 

‘Careful,’ Oscar said, but he was smiling again, that crinkly eyed smile that made Lando feel safe safe safe. ‘Maybe I’ll open it up and you can see what’s inside?’ 

Lando rested his arm on the side of the bath and lay his cheek against his arm, looking up at Oscar as he carefully opened the box. His heart felt achey and his chest felt tight, but in a good way. He felt like he might cry because he was just so overwhelmingly happy. 

He almost didn’t care what was inside. The thought that Oscar cared, thought about him, probably ordered things on his phone as Lando fell asleep in his arms and paid the extra to have them today just in case, was enough.

Oscar pulled out a white pacifier, attached to a length of pale blue ribbon with a clip on the end. ‘We can choose a more exciting one together maybe, but I thought you just needed one for now,’ he explained with a little shrug, toying with the ribbon a little. 

Lando hummed in his throat and sat up. 

‘Do you want to try it now?’ 

Lando nodded. Oscar unclipped the ribbon and held the dummy out to Lando. Lando opened his mouth, and Oscar laughed through his nose softly before reaching out to put the dummy in his mouth.

‘Spoiled, you are,’ he said, affectionately.

Lando gave the bulb of the dummy a few experimental sucks. It felt about the same length as his thumb, maybe a little shorter but it was broader and felt smooth under his tongue. He closed his eyes.

‘A good replacement?’ Oscar sounded a little… nervous, Lando thought. He wanted to tell him how well he was doing, how much this all meant to him. He wasn’t sure he’d find the words though, so he just opened his eyes and nodded. 

‘Good, I’m glad,’ Oscar replied, and he did sound genuinely relieved. 

The dummy stayed in while Oscar helped Lando out of the bath, while he dried him gently with one of the big fluffy hotel towels. While Oscar carried him back into the bedroom, Lando tucked into the crook of his neck. He gently laid him down on the bed and went back to the fetch the other boxes. 

The biggest box had two packets of pull-ups which Lando whined and covered his face about but Oscar had just softly said that he didn’t think Lando wanted to wake up in wet sheets again and that he’d just had a bath and he thought maybe it would be a good idea for now, and Lando had just kept his face covered and nodded. 

It was maybe worth it when Oscar had kissed the palm of the hand covering his face and called him ‘my good boy’ again as he slid it up over Lando’s hips.

Oscar pulled on a pair of his soft sweatpants and one of his hoodies and Lando felt so surrounded by safe. Oscar pulled on his hands to sit him up on the edge of the bed, then carried over the last box. 

‘Do you want to open this one?’ 

Lando tilted his head curiously. His dummy bobbed as he sucked thoughtfully. 

‘Would you like me to open it and then you can look inside?’ 

Lando nodded. Oscar pulled open the tape but held down the top of the box as he handed the box to Lando, sitting down on the bed next to him. 

He held the box in his lap for a moment and took a shaky breath. It was still quite overwhelming, the idea that Oscar - that anybody - wanted to spoil him. Wanted to buy him things. Wanted him to have things. Lando had never bought anything specifically for his little self. It felt silly and self-indulgent, especially when he’d have to buy things in his big headspace. He’d clicked through a few websites, thought a little about what he might like, but it had quickly felt wrong and he’d clicked off without buying anything. 

‘Do you want me to help you, love?’ Oscar asked gently. Lando shook his head. He wished he knew how to find the words to tell Oscar what he was thinking. 

He lifted the top of the box and put his hand in, pulling out the softest cream bunny he had ever seen. His eyes immediately filled with tears. He held it up and Oscar moved the box from his lap. It was floppy and soft, with beans in its paws and the very ends of its ears. He pressed his nose against its nose and closed his eyes. The tears spilled out over his cheeks. 

‘Oh, baby,’ Oscar said quietly next to him, rubbing his hand in slow circles on his back. ‘Do you like him?’ 

Lando sniffed and nodded. 

He couldn’t find the words to say thank you, it’s perfect, you’re perfect, everything is perfect, and it’s all so overwhelming because I didn’t even let myself imagine that something like this could happen to me so instead he leant into Oscar until he lifted his arm to let him in, and then nuzzled right into his side, still pressing the bunny against his face. 

Chapter Text

Oscar sat propped up against the headboard, watching Lando breathe. 

He was asleep, napping after the weight of the day, curled small under the covers. His bunny tucked under one arm, dummy still gently bobbing in his mouth. His hair was a little damp from the bath, fluffy where it was drying unevenly, and he looked impossibly young like this. So soft and so trusting. Oscar reached out, almost without thinking, and brushed a stray curl off his forehead. 

He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone look so vulnerable around him. Not really, not like this. Oscar’s chest ached with the weight of being trusted this much. With the terrifying, overwhelming fragility of it all. 

Oscar’s Caregiver side had yearned for the feeling of being needed. Of being trusted. Of being allowed to care in a way that wasn’t performative, or transactional. That wasn’t just stepping into a situation to fix something specific. 

He wanted - he needed - something more, something real. He’d been getting by on doing just enough, but the problem was that now he’d seen Lando like this, known what it felt like to be needed, to be someone’s safe, he knew that just enough wasn't enough any more. 

It had been a big day. Oscar hadn’t realised just how close to the edge Lando had been, just how much he was dancing the fine line between his big and little headspaces, until he’d started to unravel. He thought maybe he should have noticed. Should have known that Lando was struggling as much as he was. But Lando had spend a very long time being able to hide that he was a little at all, so he reasoned it was probably more likely that Lando was just good at pretending, rather than Oscar was a terrible Caregiver. 

Still, though. He should have known.

He was used to some of Lando’s idiosyncrasies, some of the ways his little searched out Oscar’s Caregiver subconsciously. But today was different. Today, Oscar had watched Lando shatter. 

He hadn’t hesitated to catch him, not for a second, but there was a quiet ache in him that wondered what if. He wondered idly about what the day might have been like if he’d insisted they stay back in the hotel, if he’d kept Lando down in his headspace. He thought about dimmed lights and gentle cuddles and the weight of Lando pressed against his side. He wished he was able to prevent the day, knowing what he knew now. 

But he also knew, realistically, that Lando would have never let him. He was starting to trust Oscar, but Oscar knew he’d also spent too long doing this by himself to even entertain the idea of not going to the paddock. 

And so Oscar did what he could to protect him, and then what he had to do once Lando had fallen apart. 

That was the part that stuck with him, really. The ease of it. How natural it was. How his instincts had kicked in and his Caregiver had taken over, and the way things just came to him, drawn from a part of him that hadn’t ever really had the opportunity to completely take the wheel.

Lando whined a little in his sleep, his dummy slipping out and a little crease between his eyebrows appearing. Oscar held the dummy back in, and murmured shh shh shh until the crease disappeared and Lando looked peaceful again. 

Oscar exhaled slowly through his nose. It was all so much, much more than he expected, but it also felt so right. Nothing felt difficult, he just had to sit back and let his instincts take over. He’d never really had the space to do that before. Never felt all the pieces fall into place, not like this. Not like Lando. 

He thought of a thread from his past that he tugged on occasionally, less a moment and more a feeling. Late nights in F3, when he and Logan shared hotel rooms, sprawling across twin beds with snacks between them, and the television playing quietly. Oscar hadn’t really understood what it meant to be a Caregiver then, other than the classification certificate he was given in his 16th year, but he remembers the steady, protective hum in his chest when Logan fell asleep propped up in bed and Oscar had gently gently gently shuffled him down in bed. So he wouldn’t hurt his neck, he rationalised. Or when Logan had whined in the back of his throat that he didn’t want to go out, not really, and Oscar hadn’t thought twice when he’d just said, ‘Stay in, then, I’ll get us food.’ 

Oscar hadn’t really known then how to ask someone to need him properly. And anyway, Logan never would have, because it wasn’t like he was a little. He was a baseline, someone who would indulge Oscar occasionally, when his Caregiver threatened to spill over the sides if it didn’t have anywhere to go, and accepted it when Oscar fussed around him. 

‘You’re such a… mom,’ Logan had rolled his eyes fondly once, and Oscar had stilled immediately and spiralled into too much too overbearing too intense until Logan had sat beside him and let Oscar pull him into his side because he understood he just needed to feel needed.

Honestly, looking back, he realised that Logan understood what Oscar needed more than Oscar did. He was kind and patient when Oscar became too much without even realising. When he packed Logan’s bag for him or reminded him to pick up his pass as they were leaving or sought him out at the paddock to make sure he was drinking enough, the way he cradled him and let him cry on his shoulder after difficult races or tried to make sure he was being sensible when they celebrated the wins. 

Oscar hadn’t meant to. But he also didn’t know how to fight against his biology, hadn’t really ever needed to. Caregivers weren’t marginalised the same way littles were. It hadn’t ever disadvantaged him. He had nothing to hide, hadn’t ever had to lie about his classification.

Not like Lando, he thought, and he felt a wave of sadness as he looked again at the sleeping boy next to him. Impossibly soft, as his eyelids flickered with dreams. He couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through, to be so desperate to change something so fundamental about him. 

Although he wasn’t surprised about the blockers, a part of him was devastated that Lando had been denying himself something he so clearly desperately needed, for so long. 

The way he’d confessed quietly that he’d risk everything if he could get rid of it had broken Oscar. He loved Lando in lots of different ways, of course he did, but that vulnerable, soft side that Oscar was just getting to know felt like it was going to be his favourite part of Lando. 

The first time he’d seen him, Oscar felt that hum in his chest. A kind of bone-deep knowing, the way his soul had exhaled, whispered ah, there you are. He was meant to care for him. 

Lando shifted slightly in his sleep, nose wrinkling. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and still glassy with sleep. He blinked up at Oscar, pouting a little around his dummy. Oscar reached over immediately, brushing a curl off his forehead. 

‘Hi, love,’ he whispered. ‘You’re ok. I’m here.’ 

Lando didn’t speak. Just shifted closer, sighing, and pressed his cheek against Oscar’s hip. His fingers rubbed the very corners of his bunny’s ear. 

Oscar smiled. He let his fingers card gently through Lando’s curls. 

‘Do you want to sleep a little longer?’ he asked quietly. He wasn’t sure if Lando would answer, could answer. He hadn’t really spoken since the paddock, since Oscar had let him lie I’m fine when he knew he wasn’t.

Lando hummed a little in the back of his throat, and Oscar took that as a yes. 

And even though he knew he shouldn’t let him sleep too long, even though they had a race that weekend and he didn’t want to disrupt Lando’s sleep schedule too much, a self-indulgent little part of him wanted this moment to last forever. Lando, needy and little, safe and asleep in his arms. Both of them exactly where they both belonged.  

- 

Lando stirred again a little while later, blinking up at Oscar with slow, heavy eyes. His bunny had wedged between him and Oscar, and he tugged at it until Oscar scooped it up and sat it on his chest. 

‘I think he likes it here,’ Oscar said, stroking one of its ears. ‘He told me when you were sleeping.’ 

Lando gently ran a finger over the bunny’s face before stroking down its ear and rubbing the end of it between his fingers. 

‘Does he have a name yet?’ Oscar asked, voice low and warm. ‘Or she? Do they have a name yet?’ 

Lando shook his head, still rubbing the ear. 

‘We should pick one, hmm?’ 

Lando shook his head again, and snuggled into Oscar’s chest, pulling the bunny into a tight cuddle. 

‘You’re right. It’s a big decision, we don’t want to rush it.’ Oscar stroked his head gently, combing his fingers through the curls. He pressed a kiss to his head, and felt so overwhelmingly right about having Lando here, like this. 

‘Think you’re ready sit up a bit, sweetheart?’ 

Lando shook his head against Oscar’s side, rubbing at his eyes with the back of one hand. 

‘Mmm, I think we should maybe, hey? We can get you a drink and maybe think about some food?’ 

Lando made a soft sound in his throat. Oscar took it as a yes, even though he thought it was more likely to be a noise of protest. Still, Lando let him gently guide him upright until his head was resting against Oscar’s shoulder. 

Oscar reached over to the bedside table for a bottle of water, unscrewing the lid and holding it out to Lando.

He thought briefly of how he’d do the same for Logan, how he’d affectionately roll his eyes but take it from his hands anyway. How this felt different because it didn’t feel like there was any indulgence in the way Lando sighed through his nose as he sat upright, just gentle acceptance, like he knew Oscar knew what was best for him. Was looking after him. 

He took the bottle with both hands, letting his bunny fall onto the mattress with a soft thud. 

Oscar hooked a finger through the handle and gently pulled Lando’s dummy out of his mouth. Lando whined a little about it, but Oscar just said, ‘Drink, baby,’ and Lando obediently lifted the bottle to his mouth. He drank messily and slowly, water dribbling down his chin. 

He held the bottle out to Oscar when he was done. ‘That’s my good boy,’ Oscar praised softly, wiping Lando’s chin with the back of his hand. 

He hoped he never got used to the way Lando’s cheeks flushed when he was praised, the way he looked down to avoid eye contact, the way a pleased little smile tugged at his lips. 

Lando leant back against his shoulder, pulling the bunny back against his chest. He made a little noise in the back of his throat. Oscar took a beat to decipher what he meant, before reaching out to the dummy which was sitting on the bedside table by the water bottle. He picked it up and reached down to offer it to Lando, who took it in his mouth with a happy hum. 

Something in Oscar’s chest felt warm, that feeling of being needed, of being trusted. He stroked a hand down Lando’s arm. 

The light coming through the window painted long streaks of amber across the room. Oscar could tell by the angle of the sun, and the weight of his own hunger that it was late afternoon, creeping into evening. 

Lando wasn’t sleeping any more, but he was in that soft, pliant headspace. Deeply, peacefully little. Somewhere in a space where time didn’t matter and everything was safe and still. 

Oscar didn’t want to disturb that peace, but he also knew they needed to eat, needed to make sure they were ready for tomorrow. He worried a little about tomorrow, about whether Lando would be back up in his big headspace, ready to drive. He knew that Lando would have rather die than miss a race weekend, but he also knew that it could well be out of their hands. He carefully shut that thought in a box. Worrying about tomorrow wouldn’t change anything. He wanted to enjoy now.

He brushed his thumb along Lando’s cheekbone. 

‘Hey, love,’ he said, gently. ‘Think we might need to get you some food soon.’ 

Lando let out a little whine, still too deep in his headspace to find the words he wanted. 

Oscar smiled softly. ‘We can eat here, just something easy, hmm?’

Lando reached out to twist his fingers in the hem of Oscar’s t-shirt. 

‘You’ve been doing such a good job of resting,’ Oscar reached down to kiss the top of his head. ‘Reckon your tummy might need looking after too.’ 

Lando’s fingers stopped twisting, hesitated just a beat, before he nodded. 

‘That’s my good boy.’ 

He read the room service menu out to Lando, not really sure how much he was listening. How much he could listen, if he was being honest, not while he was this deep in his headspace. When he got to the third read-through, Oscar asked gently if Lando wanted him to choose for him. Lando nodded, and the sigh he let out sounded relieved. 

The thing was, Oscar thought as he dialled reception to place the order, he wanted to hold everything for Lando, wanted to make choices and take the pressure off, but he also knew how fiercely independent Lando was, how hard he’d fought to be able to make his own decisions. They were still learning each other, and Oscar was still learning how much he was allowed to take from Lando before he got too much. He had to remind himself that Lando wasn’t Logan, that Lando’s biology meant he really did need Oscar as much as Oscar needed him. He wasn’t too much, he was just enough. But, still. It didn’t hurt to try and protect Lando’s independence where he could. Even if it was just offering rather than taking. He wanted to get it right for Lando. 

Lando was still twisting the fingers of one hand in the hem of Oscar’s t-shirt, his bunny clutched in his other hand. His dummy moved slowly as he sucked lazily, eyes drooping. 

Oscar put a gentle hand on the back of his neck. Lando hummed and nuzzled into the touch. 

They stayed like that while they waited for their food, Oscar playing with the curls at the nape of Lando’s neck, Lando breathing evenly through his nose as he toyed with Oscar’s hem. 

The soft knock at the door made Lando flinch, and Oscar shushed him gently. 

‘It’s just the food, baby. You stay here, I’ve got it.’ 

He was reminded of all the times he fetched food for Logan. He reasoned at the time that feeding people was a love language of his. He supposed now that it was just his Caregiver instincts edging to the fore, his need to look after. 

He kept his voice quiet as he carefully opened the door and thanked the server, wheeling in the room service trolley. Lando stirred a little at the smell of their dinners, blinking over to Oscar as he pulled the trolley closer to the bed. 

‘Smells good, doesn't it?’ he said softly, with a gentle smile. 

Lando didn’t answer, but Oscar hadn’t really expected him too. He kept up a little commentary as he uncovered the food and made sure everything was ready, before he sat on the edge of the bed and gently coaxed Lando into his lap. He sat the bunny right next to them, where Lando could see it, and held his hand out for Lando to spit his dummy into. 

‘Let’s try a few bites, yeah?’ 

Lando made a quiet noise in the back of his throat, burying his face in Oscar’s chest. Oscar let him hide there a few seconds before rubbing slow circles on his back. 

‘I know, love. I know it’s hard. But we’re got to look after your body too, yeah? I reckon you must be pretty hungry. You don’t have to do it by yourself, I’ll help.’ 

Lando sat back, enough that Oscar could lean and press a soft kiss on his temple. 

‘Good job. Good boy.’

He reached over to get the first forkful of food. It wasn’t easy with Lando in his lap, but he manoeuvred around him and loaded it with chicken and vegetables. He hoped little Lando wasn’t as fussy as big Lando. 

‘Just one to start. Open up, there’s a good boy.’ 

Lando eyed the green on the fork suspiciously, and looked at Oscar. 

Oscar just opened his own mouth for Lando to copy, and murmured ‘good boy’ when Lando did, whining a little as he chewed. 

‘We’ve got to keep you healthy. Jon won’t be happy with me otherwise.’ 

Lando looked grumpily at the next forkful, but he opened his mouth anyway, let Oscar feed him with a well done, that’s it. 

They fell into a quiet rhythm, Oscar taking it in turns to feed bites to Lando with gentle praise after every mouthful, and trying to eat his own food too. He’d ordered the same for them both, so he just used the same fork. He figured it was easier than trying to negotiate two forks and a Lando in his lap. 

By the time Lando’s plate was nearly empty, he was drooping again, heavy-limbed and sleepy, leaning against Oscar’s chest. Oscar offered another bite, and he shook his head gently, making the same noise as earlier which Oscar was learning meant dummy, please. He held it out, and Lando closed his lips around it, with a sleepy little hum. He held one hand out, and Oscar passed him his bunny. He held it up and brushed his cheek against its soft fur, before cuddling it tightly against his chest.  

‘You’ve had enough?’ Oscar asked, brushing his fingers through Lando’s curls. Lando nodded against his chest. ‘You did so well, I’m so proud of you.’ 

Oscar sat with his arms full of Lando, rocking him gently. The colours from the sky shifted to something more muted, and Oscar could feel Lando trying to match his breathing, chests gently rising and falling in sync. He rubbed gentle circles on his back. The room was warm and quiet. There was nowhere else they needed to be. 

-

Oscar let himself hold Lando for a little while longer, his head tucked under Oscar’s chin, still holding on to his bunny. Oscar’s world had narrowed to the steady rhythm of Lando’s breathing, the way he felt pressed against him, warm and pliant. He was so gentle like this. Everything about him felt quieter. 

Eventually, though, Oscar knew they needed to move. He needed to make sure they were both doing everything they needed ahead of the weekend looming in front of them. He kissed Lando’s temple, then gently pushed his hair back from his face.

‘I need to tidy up a bit, put the tray outside. You just stay here ok, sweetheart.’

Lando whined about it, but let Oscar shuffle him carefully off his lap. He didn’t sit up, just curled onto his side, watching Oscar as he moved around the room. His eyes were heavy with sleep. 

Oscar thought fleetingly again of the next day, wondered if Lando would be able to get back up to his big headspace before he needed to drive. Wondered if he’d be able to leave Lando if he couldn’t be big again. The idea of leaving Lando like this felt viscerally wrong wrong wrong. He shook his head a little, trying to close that particular box again. 

He tidied up the remnants of dinner, opening the door just enough to put the trolley outside. He dimmed the lights as he passed. 

‘Still awake?’ 

Lando didn’t reply, not with words, but he blinked slowly, and reached one hand out for Oscar, fingers flexing a little.

Oscar climbed back onto the bed, stroking Lando’s hair as he resettled himself against Oscar’s side. His bunny was nestled in the crook of his arm. Oscar thought about the night before, how he’d scrolled through pages of stuffed animals with Lando tucked against him until he’d found the one that felt right. How, even then, his finger has hesitated over the checkout button as he wrestled against his instincts, worrying that he was too much, that this would be overstepping. 

His chest ached when he thought about the tears in Lando’s eyes the minute he’d laid eyes on it. It was worth all of the uncertainty to know how much it meant to him. And the way he’d not let it leave his side since, it just all made Oscar’s Caregiver hum happily. 

‘Reckon we should brush your teeth soon,’ he said softly, stroking down Lando’s nose. Lando went a little cross-eyed trying to follow his finger. Oscar laughed through his nose and dipped to kiss the top his head. He felt so tender, so full of everything feeling right. Like he was doing exactly what he was meant to be doing. 

‘Teeth then pyjamas, I think?’ 

Lando shook his head and closed his eyes. Oscar laughed again, a knowing little laugh. ‘Yeah, I thought that might be your answer.’ 

He stroked the top of Lando’s head. ‘Come on, you. The sooner we do this the sooner you can go to sleep.’ 

Lando frowned, his eyes still closed, but he let Oscar gently shuffle out from beside him. He slumped into the warm space Oscar had left behind with a pitiful little noise. Oscar smiled. He knew it was disgustingly fond, but he couldn’t help it. Lando made him feel a certain way. 

He scooped Lando up, carrying him bridal style into the bathroom and sitting him gently on the closed lid of the toilet. 

‘Shall we get you changed too, love?’ he asked quietly, and Lando flushed, bringing his bunny up to his face to hide behind. 

‘Hey, hey. That’s what they’re there for, hmm?’ Oscar brushed his fingers through his hair. Lando whined a little. 

Oscar got Lando ready for bed, quietly reassuring and praising as he cleaned him up and helped him into a clean pull-up and a pair of Oscar’s soft pyjamas. He carried him back into the bedroom, laying him down and kissing his cheek before climbing in next to him, tucking the covers around them as Lando snuggled into his side. 

‘Goodnight, love,’ he said quietly, toying with the curls at the nape of Lando’s neck. 

He scrolled on his phone a little with his other hand as he felt Lando fall asleep against him, going lax in stages until he was heavy and languid, chest rising and falling peacefully. 

Oscar resisted the urge to buy Lando a million more things, but he did find a cup with a lid, a bottle decorated with little stars, and some cutlery especially designed for littles. He also picked a pair of navy pyjamas covered with little cream bunnies, that looked soft and had ribbed cuffs like Lando liked on Oscar’s hoodie. He checked out, and hoped that one day he’d be able to buy Lando everything he’d ever wanted. He wanted to spoil him because he deserved it. 

He carded his fingers through Lando’s curls and closed his eyes, sat with the warm hum in his chest and the feeling of knowing everything was right. Tomorrow could wait. 

Tonight, he had Lando. And Lando had him. That was enough. 

Chapter Text

The light crept in the next morning, trickling around the edges of the curtains. Oscar was already half-awake when Lando stirred, scrolling aimlessly on his phone with the brightness turned down low. One arm was still draped protectively around Lando’s warm weight curled into his side.

Oscar felt Lando wake. A faint catch of breath, a twitch of his fingers. A little noise in the back of his throat. Oscar rubbed circles on his back. 

‘Good morning,’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Lando blinked up at him, eyes still heavy with sleep. He was in the liminal space between big and little, and he could physically feel the pull of his two headspaces. He whined and buried his face in Oscar’s shoulder, like the day might go away if he didn’t look at it. 

Oscar bent to press a kiss on the top of his head. ‘We’ve still got time, there’s no rush.’ 

The problem was, Lando knew they didn’t have time, not really. And while the tug between being big and little ached at the base of his skull, he also knew that the decision had been made for him. Even though he wanted nothing more than to stay in this syrupy, warm morning, curled against Oscar feeling small and safe, he had to be big today. Had to be brave and remember how to function out there in the world, away from this safe little bubble Oscar had created for him. For them, he supposed. 

But he wasn’t really sure how to articulate that in words, so instead he sighed and fiddled with the hem of Oscar’s t-shirt. He could feel the littleness seeping out of him, feel the tension building under his skin. 

Oscar was still stroking soft circles on his back. ‘Do you want anything?’

Lando shrugged without moving his head. He made a quiet, almost guilty sound. He was’t sure he was still allowed the comfort now that he was almost feeling big again. 

‘Hey, look at me.’ Oscar shifted slightly so he could tilt Lando’s chin up with one hand. 

Lando did, reluctantly. He couldn’t quite meet Oscar’s eye though, and he wasn’t really sure why. He was embarrassed, even though he figured he should probably be past that by now. Oscar had made him feel so safe, even though he didn’t have to. Even though there were so many moments he could have walked away, could have left Lando to it. And anyway, he was almost all the way out of his little headspace, or at least nowhere as deep as he’d been the last couple of days. He didn’t need Oscar the way he had done.

Oscar smiled gently. ‘You don’t have to earn this, you know,’ he said, softly. ‘You don’t have to be little to want a cuddle, and you don’t have to feel guilty for wanting to stay close.’ 

Lando wondered how he did it - how he could reach into his mind and pull back the curtains and just… deal with what he found. Make everything feel better. He sighed through his nose, and ran his thumb nail over his bottom lip. The urge to suck his thumb was almost overwhelming, but he had to be big, had to be good, had to be ready for the day. 

Oscar tapped the small of his back gently. ‘I don’t think your thumb is healed enough yet, do you want me to find your dummy?’ 

Lando shook his head, but kept his thumb resting on his chin. He desperately wanted to say yes. But he knew that saying yes would also mean saying yes to trying to hold on to the last scraps of his little headspace.

He opened his mouth to let Oscar know that he was ok, he was big now and he didn’t have to look after him any more, but he suddenly realised he hadn’t really said anything since yesterday, since before Oscar found him in his driver’s room and brought him back. Fleetingly, he wondered if he remembered how to talk. He cleared his throat. Oscar’s hand stilled on his back.

‘I’m going to have a shower?’ His voice was scratchy and it came out like a question instead of a statement. He wondered if Oscar would think he was asking permission. 

‘Yeah, course.’ Oscar’s hand started moving again, tracing gentle circles. Lando resisted the urge to nuzzle into his chest. ‘Do you need anything?’ 

‘No, I, uh, I’m feeling… I’m not feeling little? Any more. I’m feeling ok. Back to normal.’ He tried to laugh at the end, but it came out sounding a lot sadder than he’d intended. 

‘There’s nothing not normal about any of it, you know that right?’ 

‘Mmm. Yeah. But, like…’ Lando pushed himself up so he was face to face with Oscar. ‘It’s not though is it? Like… all of this.’ He gestured vaguely. ‘It’s not really… normal.’ 

‘From what I can see, the least normal part of it all is how much you can’t see how normal it is.’

Lando blinked slowly. ‘What?’

‘I just… I don’t think I’ve ever met a little before who’s wanted so much to change. Not like you. That’s the bit that doesn’t feel normal to me, Lando. You can’t help it, it’s part of who you are. It’s like, I dunno, hating your eye colour or thinking that your feet should be a different size.’ 

Lando felt his eyes burn and a lump start to form in his throat. 

‘There’s nothing wrong with being a little. I wish you could see that.’ Oscar’s voice was gentle, and Lando knew he was being kind, but every word felt a little to Lando like he was being told off. He sniffed. He didn’t want to cry. 

‘I’m going to have a shower.’ His voice cracked in the middle. He hated how little he sounded. He slid off the bed and squeezed his eyes shut as he turned away from Oscar. He didn’t want to cry. 

‘Lando, wait.’ 

He stopped, his back still to the bed. He could hear the rustle of sheets, heard Oscar’s feet on the floor. Felt his hand on the small of his back, felt his breath close to the nape of his neck. 

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’ 

Lando let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. 

‘You get to do this however you want to. I’m here to support you and I can’t pretend to understand why you want to get rid of a part of who you are, but it wasn’t fair of me to say that.’ His hand was still on Lando’s back, not moving. Just a steady, warm weight. ‘But there really isn’t anything wrong with being a little. And I’m looking forward to getting to know that part of you more.’

Lando could feel his eyes burning. He squeezed his eyes closed. He didn’t want to cry.

Oscar pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder, and Lando shivered slightly. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. 

‘What for?’ Oscar’s voice was close. Not demanding, just curious, like he couldn’t imagine what there could be to apologise for. Lando could feel the warmth of him behind him. He didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to look Oscar in the eye. 

‘I dunno,’ he whispered again. ‘For everything, for asking so much and needing so much when I can’t even give you anything in return…’

‘Hey, shh shh shh.’ Oscar put his hand back on Lando’s back. ‘You don’t have anything to apologise for.’ 

Lando’s throat tightened. He still couldn’t turn, but he leant a little into Oscar’s gentle touch. 

‘I mean it,’ Oscar continued, in a soft voice. ‘You’re not too much, you don’t need too much. I know it doesn’t feel like that, but you’re not this… this weight I have to carry. You’re not a burden, Lando. You matter to me. All of you. Even the part you keep trying to push away. Maybe even especially that part.’ 

‘I don’t want it to matter to anyone.’ Lando’s voice cracked. ‘I don’t want it to be something people have to… have to look after.’ 

Oscar shifted slightly behind him. He stroked his hand up and down Lando’s back. The touch was so gentle, so tender. Lando felt overwhelmed by how safe Oscar could make him feel. ‘It’s not something I have to do, Lando. It’s something I get to do. Do you… do you understand that?’ 

He took a deep breath. 

‘Looking after you, it’s not some… some obligation. It’s not something I’m, I dunno, that I’m tolerating. It’s something that makes sense. It’s right. It’s something I’m made to do. And it’s you, Lando. It’s got to be you, it’s never made more sense than it does with you. So you have nothing to apologise for because looking after you is the first time I’ve ever been sure I’m doing the right thing.’ 

Lando took a deep breath, turned so he could look at Oscar. His eyes were shining, and he could feel the way his breath shook. 

‘You mean that? Like, really?’ 

Oscar gave him a small smile. ‘Lando, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.’ 

Lando nodded slowly, just once. 

‘I just…’ He rubbed a hand over his face, ‘I just feel stupid for needing it, you know? And for not knowing how… how to do it, like, properly.’ 

‘There isn’t a right way,’ Oscar smiled again. ‘We’re figuring it out together. This is our first time doing it, right? We’re still getting to know each other.’ 

‘I think I’m scared, Oscar.’ Lando bit his lip. ‘It was just…like, easier before. When you didn’t know. When no-one knew. Cos even when it was hard or whatever, I didn’t have to worry about what people thought, or what anyone saw. I just got through it and that was it and I don’t think you’re gonna, like, judge me but I just…’ he trailed off. ‘It feels like a lot. Letting someone in.’ 

Oscar nodded, slow and thoughtful. ‘That makes sense.’ Another beat, then, quieter, ‘It’s ok to be scared.’ 

He reached out, palm up. Lando hesitated, then slipped his fingers into Oscar’s. 

Oscar squeezed his hand gently. ‘Can I ask you something?’ 

Lando glanced up at him. He felt his throat tighten, but he kept hold of Oscar’s hand. 

Oscar took a breath. ‘It’s about the blockers.’ 

Lando stilled. He looked at the floor, and pressed his thumb against Oscar’s palm. 

‘I know now’s probably not the best time, but I’ve just… been thinking about it a lot. I don’t want to push you or tell you to stop or anything like that. I just want to understand. I don’t want to be someone you have to protect yourself from.’ 

Lando frowned up at Oscar. ‘I’m not trying to protect myself from you.’ 

‘I know. But you’ve been protecting yourself around me. Around everyone.’ 

Lando looked away again. ‘It’s easier.’ 

‘Is it?’ Oscar asked softly. 

Lando winced a little. He was still looking away, but his hand was still in Oscar’s, his thumb still pressed against his palm. 

‘I keep thinking how badly yesterday could have gone, if I hadn’t found you.’ Oscar’s voice was still gentle, but it trembled at the edges. ‘You weren’t safe Lando. And I know you’re used to dealing with everything on your own, but you don’t have to anymore. You don’t have to push everything down.’ 

Lando closed his eyes. ‘It’s not that simple though. I don’t want to need help.’ 

Oscar nodded. ‘I know. But maybe it’s not about needing help all the time? Maybe it’s just… I dunno, letting someone in so when you do, you’re not…alone.’ He paused. ‘I’m not trying to force anything here, Lando. It’s your choice and I know you’re not my little…’ 

Lando blinked. He thought about Oscar calling him his. My good boy. ‘What if…’ he whispered. He took a deep breath. ‘What if I was? What if I am?’ 

Oscar squeezed his hand. ‘You don’t have to make any decisions right now. But I don’t think anything would make me happier.’ He smiled at Lando, one of his proper crinkly-eyed smiles and Lando thought, yes, I am yours Oscar Piastri, but he couldn’t say anything so he just squeezed his hand back. ‘We can go at your pace, I just… I want to be a part of it. For now, or for however long you’ll let me.’ 

Lando leaned forward into him, tucking himself into Oscar’s side. His fingers found the hem of Oscar’s t-shirt. 

Oscar kissed his temple. ‘You’re…you’re not alone in this any more. I hope you know that.’

Lando exhaled, nodded against Oscar’s chest, and felt the tears that had been threatening all morning roll down his cheeks. 

-

They didn’t speak for a while, just stood pressed in close. Lando’s hand still curled into Oscar’s t-shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He was still processing the conversation, the way Oscar had said I don’t think anything would make me happier when Lando had said maybe he was his. 

For however long you’ll let me. Lando wished he had to words to say, I’d be yours forever if you’d let me. He sighed through his nose. 

Oscar kept his arms around him. Their breathing fell into sync. 

‘I should have a shower,’ Lando said eventually, muffled against Oscar’s shirt. 

Oscar hummed, and rubbed Lando’s back gently before loosening his arms from around Lando. ‘Do you need anything?’ he asked softly. 

Lando shook his head. ‘I think I’m ok.’ 

‘Ok, well, I’m here if you change your mind.’ 

‘I can do it,’ Lando whispered. ‘But…’ he faltered. Oscar waited. ‘Can you stay close?’ He looked at the floor as he whispered, but glanced up at Oscar when he was done. 

Oscar nodded immediately. ‘Always.’ 

Lando felt the rush of relief. He nodded back. ‘Thank you.’ 

Oscar reached out and brushed a curl off his forehead. ‘You don’t have to thank me for caring, Lando.’ 

Lando let out a little laugh at that. He thought of Oscar crouching in front of him the day before, saying the exact same thing. He shrugged, again, said, ‘Kind of feels like I should’, again, but this time his lips were curled up in a smile. 

Oscar smiled back. He nodded at the bathroom. ‘Go. I’ll be here.’ 

-

They moved around each other in an easy kind of orbit. Oscar stayed close, like he promised, but Lando didn’t feel suffocated. He let Oscar help him with his collar, let him gently tug down the sleeves of his hoodie down over his wrists. Let him put a new plaster over the not-quite-healed blister on his thumb, let him press a kiss to the palm of his hand and tell him that he was being so brave. 

It wasn’t little space, but it wasn’t really big space either. It was just soft. Gentle. A strange in-between space that felt like golden light in curtains or sunlight filtered through leaves. Lando still felt fragile, felt like he was still rebuilding the walls he needed to face the day. Face the world outside this little bubble of safe. 

Oscar never rushed him, though. Let him take the time he needed. Made sure he remembered to take his blocker with a gentle smile that Lando thought was sad round the edges. Another time, he thought. We can talk about this again soon. 

Lando sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Oscar moved around him, packing his bag and Lando’s bag for the day. He pulled his bunny into his lap without thinking, stroking its soft ears and rolling the seams between his fingers. 

‘Do you want to take him?’ Oscar asked, softly. 

‘Can I?’ 

‘You can. Do you want to?’ 

‘Isn’t it…like…’ 

‘Don’t overthink it,’ Oscar interrupted. He held out Lando’s bag. ‘He’ll be safe in here.’ 

Lando held the bunny out. He stroked his thumb agains its paw. 

‘Are you sure it’s…’

‘No one’s going to know, except me and you, and it means he’ll be there with you. Just in case you need him.’ 

Lando gently put it in his bag. 

‘I’m sure he’s looking forward to spending the day with you,’ Oscar smiled. ‘He still doesn’t have a name.’ 

‘I’m working on it,’ Lando replied.

He watched as Oscar zipped the bag up carefully and handed it over to him. He looked at it critically, as though there might be some kind of sign on there that said, ‘This guy is a little and he’s got a teddy with him’. But it looked the same as it always did, so he shrugged and put it on his back. 

He slipped his feet into his shoes, let Oscar crouch in front of him to tighten his laces. 

‘We’re gonna have to work on how you tie laces,’ he said, with a smile. 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘The size of those bows, mate. Like clown shoes or something.’ 

Oscar rolled his eyes affectionately. ‘There’s nothing wrong with them.’ 

‘You say that, you’re not the one who has to wear them.’ 

Oscar stood up from doing his own laces up. Lando looked down and fought hard to keep himself from smiling. 

‘Ah, actually…’ 

‘I guess I’m working on it for both of us, hmm?’ 

Lando laughed. ‘Yeah I guess so.’ 

‘Alright, enough. Come on. Let’s go,’ Oscar said with a shake of his head, still smiling. 

He opened the door and Lando stepped out into the corridor. Everything felt so different outside of their room. Oscar’s room, really, although all of his stuff had migrated there and it felt so completely theirs. He felt Oscar’s hand on the small of his back, already familiar and steady. He took a shaky breath. 

‘Ready?’ Oscar asked, quietly. 

‘As I can be.’ He tugged up the hood of his hoodie. 

Oscar smiled. ‘Good. We’ll get through it together.’