Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Lando. Listen. I know, and I’m sorry, and I can’t really explain what I did, I just. Call me back, okay? We can’t just leave things like this.”

An automated voice chimes in. “This voice message has been saved for 379 days.”

With a shaky breath, Lando presses the button. “Message deleted.”

Alex claps Lando’s shoulder. “This guy,” he says to someone Lando doesn’t recognize, “threw the best parties in uni. The best.”

“Hey,” Lando laughs, “I still throw a damn good party.”

They’re standing in Alex’s dingy London flat. The air is electric; nearly everyone is at least tipsy. House music plays faintly over the speakers Alex set up (in a last ditch effort to make people actually want to show up, with Lando’s help). Lando really misses the atmosphere of a club– at smaller, intimate parties, everyone notices everything. Except, maybe, the fact that Lando really, really had to pee, because this conversation is impossible to escape.

Someone taps Alex on the shoulder, and both Alex and Lando whirl around. It’s George, of course– wasted, flushed, and most importantly, Lando’s way out.

“Hey,” George slurs. “Alex, Lando, mate, you have to see this. Charles is going to– hic– he’s in a drinking contest with Max. They’re going until one can’t stand. Come on.” He grabs Alex by the elbow and marches away, and Alex is all too happy to go with.

Despite being his best mates, they only have eyes for each other. Neither notices Lando slip off into the peace and quiet of the bathroom. A piss, a quick scrub of the hands, and a splash of water on his face was all it took for Lando to feel comfortable enough to go back into the fray. But first, he thinks, a drink.

Gunning for the refrigerator, Lando carefully pushes his way through the crowd. Upon reaching his destination, he finds something slightly better than Alex’s shitty beer. A man Lando’s never seen before is standing directly in front of the fridge, lost in thought. Lando follows his line of sight and lands on some word magnets. Placing himself right beside the man, Lando points at the magnets. “Nice poem.”

The man jumps, clearly surprised, and his shoulders sag in slight embarrassment. “This was supposed to be an anonymous fridge magnet poem,” he says, in an accent much different from Lando’s own.

“I’m not judging,” Lando grins, taking two beers from the fridge. He passes one to the mystery poet. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” The poet slinks out of the kitchen, and Lando is left alone with the refrigerator magnets. 

Lando gets now why the poet was so enamored with the magnets. After 10 minutes, he finds himself in the exact reverse of his earlier situation– the poet coming side by side with him as he blocks the fridge. “Sorry I moved your poem. This is, like, weirdly addictive,” Lando blushes.

“Don’t worry about it,” the other man snorts. “Always glad to see other people with an appreciation for the art of magnet poetry.”

Lando is about to respond with something equally quippy when an unseen force backs into him, holding two cans. “Oh, hey!” Alex says brightly, turning around. “You two met!”

Lando shrugs. “Kind of?”

“Oh, well! Lando, this is my cousin Oscar, the engineer. He’s Australian, if you couldn’t already tell. Oscar, this is Lando, my roommate back at university.”

The poet-- Oscar–- gapes. “You’re Lando?”

“Jesus, Alex, mate, what have you said about me to garner that reaction?” Lando says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Aw, nothing much. Just that you have a broken heart and a penchant for revelry and debauchery. Lucky he’s here and not at the club.” Alex drunkenly cups Lando’s face and begins to stroke it.

“Don’t tell people I have a broken heart, mate. And quit stroking my face.”

Abruptly, George, in all his glory, stumbles into the kitchen. “Alex, there’s been an incident. Max pushed Charles into that painting” – he gestures sloppily to a very broken glass frame– “and yeah. Glass everywhere.”

“Shit. Host duty calls.” Alex and George make their way into the war zone, leaving Lando and Oscar alone yet again.

“I don’t really like parties.” Oscar shifts his weight. “Awkward small talk is not really my thing.” “

From what I’m gathering, talking in general is not really your thing.”

Oscar’s mouth twitches upward into an almost-smile. “Your assessment isn’t incorrect.”

“So, what is your thing? Oh, let me guess. Holing up in your flat poring over your fuckin’ engineering blueprints and shit and eating soup out of a can?” That sounded mean.

“And is your thing going up to strangers at parties and making weirdly specific and kind of mean judgements about them?”

“Actually, my thing at parties is usually drinking until my face hurts and being carried home.” Lando pauses. “Or maybe it’s oversharing.”

Oscar laughs, and turns to Lando. “Want some more drinks?” 

By one, the party began to fizzle out, leaving only a select few. Alex and George had the couch to themselves, their sudden sloppy make-out session leaving most unwilling to spend more than four seconds around the pair. The only difference in Lando and Oscar’s position is that they now laid slumped on the kitchen floor, talking and laughing against the refrigerator.

“You didn’t–” Lando wheezes– “you did not really catch your last boss jacking off in his office. That can’t be true. Seriously, I’d have killed myself the second I got home.”

“Oh, it’s true,” Oscar nods fervently. “I stared at my belt for a long while once I got home, but then I realized I had a cat to live for, of course.” He begins to stand up. “Actually, I’m going to go to the bathroom. Do you need anything from Alex’s bathroom? Like, expired aspirin or used dental floss?”

Lando leans in, suddenly very serious. “Actually, I have a small dish in there I was hoping to use to collect everyone’s spit. Test paternity and all that. I want to see whose moms are lying.”

“Of course,” Oscar says, matching Lando’s energy. “I’ll just go around with a party tray.”

Lando waves him off. “Don’t worry about doing all that. I’ll get them to spit.”

Oscar laughs. “Alright.”

A few minutes pass by, and George and Alex have finally taken their escapades to the bedroom. Footsteps approach Lando, still sitting on the kitchen floor, and he looks up. “Hey,” Oscar says. “I was thinking of unceremoniously and rudely leaving without saying goodbye. Just a warning.”

“You okay to walk home?” Lando asks, slowly rising to his feet.

“Yeah, mate, I’m fine. I’m only, um, around the corner, you know? Just west.”

Lando smiles. “Actually, I’m also going west. Do you want to maybe walk together?”

Oscar smiles back, a real smile. “That would be great, Lando.”

“This is actually me right here.” Oscar stops in front of a nice-looking flat, and turns to Lando. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“Anytime. You know, I really had, like, a great time talking with you.”

“Me too. Which is rare, because like you said, I’m not much of a talker.”

“Right. Of course.” Lando laughs. “We should really do this again sometime. Like, for real. A full-blown hangout.”

“For sure.” Oscar turns towards the door, and turns back suddenly. “Wait, hold on. Pull out your phone.”

Lando quickly yanks his phone out, and gives it to Oscar. “So I’m going to give you my number real quick. Top secret. If you leak it, the government will be on my ass since I’m, like, a wanted international criminal.”

“Of course. No leaks here.” Lando feels his cheeks heat up. When he gets his phone back, the time flashes across the screen– 1:45. “Jesus, I did not mean to stay out that late.”

Oscar nods. “Yeah, me neither. My boyfriend is going to think I died.”

And that’s when Lando’s world stops.

“Boyfriend.”

“Yeah. Logan. He’s great,” Oscar says, with a strange, faraway look on his face. “Anyway. See you around, Lando.”

“You too,” Lando stutters out, before the door shuts in his face.

It’s a long, slow trudge back to Lando’s flat. He’d lied earlier– he lives the opposite direction, and much farther. He just didn’t want this opportunity to slip away, and now he’d found out there was no opportunity at all.

I can’t do this to myself, he thinks. Not after Carlos.

The second he gets home, he goes into his contacts app, and deletes Oscar’s number.

Chapter Text

A few weeks later.

It was a Wednesday night, and Lando, with the day off from work tomorrow, decided to see a movie. Feeling extra cheesy and extra lonely, he had picked a showing of “The Princess Bride”-- figuring nobody would want to see a movie they’d probably already seen eighty-one times before on a weeknight.

Apparently, he had thought wrong, because of course there was one other person in the theater, and of course they had chosen the seat two seats down from his own. And, of course–just Lando’s luck– of course it happened to be Oscar. Of course. Because this night couldn’t get any sadder.

Throughout the entire movie, Lando could not stop sneaking glances at Oscar. He was completely absorbed in the movie, mouthing some of the lines to himself and smiling so cutely at the jokes it made Lando’s heart ache for what couldn’t be. Once, Lando swore he felt Oscar looking his way, but the feeling was gone as soon as it began.

The movie is over now, and all Lando can think about is the best way to escape what was inevitably going to be the most awkward conversation of all time. 

(Hey, you, you’re that dick from Alex’s party. You didn’t call me after I gave you my number and showed you where I live. Do you hate me?)

(No, I don’t hate you. You’re just extremely hot, funny, and the right kind of awkward, and I know I will inevitably fall deeply and unrequitedly in love with you and you won’t reciprocate because you’re already in a relationship. Lucky me.)

“Hey! Funny seeing you again.” Too late. Goddamnit. Oscar is standing right over him, smiling gently. 

“Yeah, funny, right? Sorry I didn’t notice you sitting right next to me,” Lando says, getting up from his seat to talk to Oscar face-to-face.

Oscar lets out an amused puff. “Hi, Lando.”

Lando tries desperately to pretend that Oscar’s name hasn’t been the only thing on his mind for the last few weeks. “Oscar, right?”

“Yeah,” Oscar nods. “This is so awkward. I’m actually here alone.”

“I mean,” Lando says, looking around. “It kind of looks like we’re the only ones who showed up, mate.”

“Right. Yeah. I didn’t mean it was weird for you to see a movie alone. I love seeing movies alone. It’s just Logan– my boyfriend– was supposed to come, but there was this work thing, so…” There was that terrible, horrible, no good word again. Boyfriend. Lando felt guilty just thinking about it.

“I don’t know, it was a spur of the moment decision. I would have invited some mates. Because I have lots of those.”

“Mhm.” Oscar sniffles, shifting his weight (which Lando does not notice is a habit of his. Definitely not). “Actually, speaking of inviting people to places. Would you like to go grab some food or something? If you’re hungry.”

Lando acts as nonchalant as possible. “I could eat,” he says fake-casually.

Oscar grins “Good. I know a place down the street that’s always open late. Come on.”

“Having ‘The Princess Bride’ as one of your favorite movies is the most sappy-loser thing ever, mate. You just can’t escape that.” Oscar reaches for his Diet Coke, and takes a long, slow sip. Lando sits across the table from him, watching his every move, his every microexpression, trying to analyze the weirdness of the situation as a whole. 

They’re in a “diner” for American tourists. On the way, Lando wondered out loud if this was a tourist trap. Oscar admitted it probably was but they had good hamburgers and sides, and that was good enough for Lando. “Your boyfriend ditched you and you had to go to a showing of it alone. Who’s the real loser here?”

At that very moment, Lando’s fried pickles and Oscar’s burger arrived. Oscar glances at Lando’s pickles, and his nose wrinkles. “You ordered fried pickles.”

“I did,” Lando says slowly, reaching for a bite. “What, you want some?”

“Absolutely not. Pickles are disgusting. Jars are where perfectly good cucumbers go to die and get embalmed. It’s their vinegary tomb.” 

Lando’s caught off guard by the dry absurdity of the statement, but he tries not to let it show. “Mate, I violated my fair share of corpses in medical school. I can tell you with absolute certainty that pickling is not the same as embalming.”

“You’re a doctor?” Oscar’s eyes widen in awe, and Lando feels a blush creep up his neck. 

“Ah, no. Just a med school dropout.” Lando laughs weakly, and for the second time in the past few minutes, switches the topic of conversation to something lighter. “Besides, I’m not even the biggest pickle fan in the whole wide world. I just like them deep-fried. Deep frying objectively makes any food better.”

“Untrue,” Oscar replies bluntly. “I don’t eat deep fried foods.”

“You’re lying.”

“I swear, mate, I’m not.”

“French fries.”

"Nope.”

“Fried chicken.”

Oscar sticks his tongue out at that. “Blegh.” 

“Onion rings.”

“Gross.”

“Deep fried Oreos.”

“What the hell are those? Absolutely not.”

“Deep fried banana sandwiches?”

“No, but Elvis ate those.”

Lando takes another fried pickle and makes sure to savor it, getting a slightly disgusted reaction out of Oscar. “And something called Fool’s Gold.”

“Never heard of it. What’s that?”

“I actually don’t really know, but I heard it helped kill him.”

“Was that the reason he was on the toilet when he died?”

“Maybe,” Lando laughs.

“Do they cover famous people deaths in medical school? Like, do they go over individual deaths and tell you what not to do, like what drugs not to take?”

“I actually got to sample the drugs that were in Prince’s system when he died. Great stuff.”

“I bet. Have you ever sampled any medications from any patients? Like steal a little oxy for yourself when you need to relax?”

“Technically,” Lando sticks his finger up into the nerd position, which makes Oscar laugh, “drugs don’t become medications until they’re actually administered.”

“Just answer the question, smartass.”

Lando grins conspiratorially. “All the time. Old people meds are the best. They’re taking so many pills they won’t notice if the white circular ones go missing. And they’re too old to count, anyway.”

“Of course. Makes total sense.” 

Oscar laughs, but something changes in his eyes. Lando picks up on it immediately. “What’s wrong, mate?”

“Look, Lando. I get people might not want to be super close friends with the guy with a boyfriend already. Whatever. I think it should be easier to be friends with me, because then there’s no like, weird feelings or confusion or anything. I’m already dating someone. Nice and easy.”

“Jesus Christ, Oscar. Is that your, like, official business pitch to be my mate or something?”

Oscar’s cheeks go a little red. “Maybe.”

“Well you sucked at it.” Lando laughs, but stops when he sees Oscar’s shoulders sag ever-so-slightly. “But I accept.”

“Really?”

“Really. Look, I’ll shake on it and everything.” Lando extends a hand, and Oscar takes it. A warmth flows through Lando’s body as he realizes just how well Oscar’s rough (but not unpleasant to hold) hand fits in his. “Is this always how you make friends? It’s kind of off-putting.”

“Not the first time I’ve been called off-putting.”

“No, I like it though. Just as long as I didn’t sell my soul, or something.”

“You did, actually. Eternal damnation in exchange for a friendship with Oscar Piastri.”

Lando smiles. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

Lando opens his phone to text Oscar. What’s shaking, hot pants? He types, before immediately deleting it. “Hot pants,” Lando mutters to no one in particular. “Yeah, he’ll love that. Jesus Christ, Lando, get it together.” 

He tries again, a little less aggressively. i found out what fool’s gold is. 

A response comes almost immediately from Oscar’s end. Do tell.

so, you basically take an entire loaf of white bread, coat it in butter, and bake it. then, once you’re done, you hollow out the inside, coat it with an entire jar of peanut butter and an entire jar of jelly, and stuff it with a whole POUND of bacon. the website i found says it’s supposed to serve eight-to-ten people, or apparently, one elvis.

A heart appears on the message, and a few minutes later, a reply comes. Okay, I got even more curious. You want to know how he discovered Fool’s Gold?

Who was Lando to deny Oscar a conversation? yes yes ofc

He had some friends of his from Denver over at Graceland, and they were talking about the sandwich. Apparently, Elvis decided he wanted one right then, and all of the guys boarded a private jet, flew it to Denver, and had twenty of the sandwiches delivered to them at the airport. They ate the sandwiches and boarded the plane back to Memphis, all without ever leaving the airport.

holy shit. thats crazy

Right??? Apparently the sandwich didn’t really kill him, but they’re 8000 fucking calories, and he loved the things. So I can see why he died on the shitter.

he had like, 40 pounds of shit in his ass when he died. half of that was probably these fuckass sandwiches

A “haha” reaction popped up on Lando’s message, and a text bubble appeared below. A few minutes went by of it fading in, and out, and in, and out, until finally, Oscar’s message appeared.

Hey, you want to meet Logan soon? You should come over to our place for dinner sometime

A lump formed in Lando’s throat. Meet Logan? The bane of his existence (who was probably a perfectly nice guy)? But, it would look so odd if he said no…Against all of his inner self-preservation instincts, Lando sent a reply. sure. just lmk when

Chapter Text

“What starts dirty, ends dirty. A relationship that starts with a breakup is doomed to end with a breakup.” Alex holds up a taxidermied rabbit. “I reckon he might not like this one.” 

Alex and Lando are looking in an antique shop. It was a hobby of theirs, but today’s shopping spree came with a renewed purpose— a gift for George. 

“Definitely not,” Lando agrees, and Alex sets the monstrosity down.

“Be free, little one.”

Lando shakes his head at Alex before continuing. “Anyways, the whole ‘starts dirty ends dirty’ thing is horseshit. Who even told you that?”

Alex looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “You, after Nick Latifi made out with me at his girlfriend’s birthday party.”

“That didn’t go that badly. You’re misremembering things.“

“Lando, his girlfriend stabbed me with her high heel.”

“Ah.” Lando forgot that part. 

“Yeah.”

“Whatever. I’m not trying to break them up. I’m perfectly happy just being friends.”

“Those words appear on at least twenty tombstones. How about this one?” Alex holds up a sculpture of a satyr. Lando shakes his head.

“He’s not going to kill me, Alex. You should know that, he’s your cousin’s boyfriend. According to Oscar, Logan is perfectly normal. And nice.”

“He’s American.”

Lando winces. “Ugh.”

“What, you didn’t get that from the name Logan? Logan Sargeant?”

“His God-given name is not Logan Sargeant.”

“Swear on my uncle’s grave.”

“That sounds like a Japanese parody of an American you’d find in Dragon Ball or something, mate. No wonder he knew about that tourist trap diner.”

“It gets worse,” Alex grins. “He’s from Florida.”

“Oscar is dating a man named Logan Sargeant from Florida.”

“He’s blond too. With blue eyes. Says sir and ma’am and y’all too.”

“Does he own a Labrador Retriever named Lassie and drive a big yellow school bus?”

Alex picks up a clock adorned with paintings of school-aged children in lederhosen. “Probably. This one, maybe?”

“Alex, mate, in what world would George appreciate something like that?”

“Oh, he wouldn’t,” Alex laughs. “The gift would be the apology dinner I’d take him to after, and I’d get the added bonus of seeing his face when I walked in the door with this bad boy.”

“Why do you need to get George a housewarming gift anyways? He’s moving into your flat.”

“He’s weird about that sort of thing. I’d rather overcompensate than ever make him upset,” Alex shrugs, then picks up an ornate (bordering on tacky) lamp. “What about this?”

Surprisingly, it’s something George would probably like. “Yeah, actually.” 

“Perfect.” Alex and Lando make their way up to the cashier. “How much for the strange lamp?” As the cashier begins sorting the payment, Alex turns back to Lando. “Don’t think I’m forgetting about the earlier thing. I still think this dinner is a fucking awful idea.”

“It’s literally a friendly dinner party! If I’m going to be Oscar’s friend, I have to meet Logan at some point. It would be crazy to avoid it. And-“

Alex cuts Lando off before he can keep rambling. “No. I’m going to stop you right now. I’d normally find it really funny seeing you bend over backwards for some guy. I’d even entertain the statistically insignificant and nearly mathematically impossible chance of you actually fucking him, but this isn’t some guy. This is Oscar. He’s my cousin. I saw him naked once. Immediately, explosive diarrhea.”

“You know, not everybody thinks about sex all the time.” Alex takes the lamp, thanks the cashier, and the two begin the walk back to Alex’s flat. 

“Sure, Lando. You, of all people, are the most chaste person on earth. If the devil came to me right now and asked for a virgin to sacrifice, I’d point to you, and say ‘Take him, Satan! He’s exactly what you need for your ritual! Hark, the virgin Lando! The planet Earth is doomed, for his virgin blood is the purest and most potent!’”

“Fuck off, Alex. I’m just saying I’m not dirty—“

“You are.”

“Shut up. As I was saying, I can actually get into a relationship without letting a quick hookup ruin everything.”

“It’s naive, and frankly, adorable that you actually believe that. More importantly,” Alex says, as they reach the doorstep, “do you think having the warm glow of this lamp on your bedside would make you more sexually experimental?”

Lando stares Alex dead in the eyes. “Absolutely.”

At Logan and Oscar’s shared flat, there is a strange energy in the air. Logan stands in the kitchen, chopping various vegetables to cook for dinner as the smell of onions and peppers fills the air. Unfortunately for Oscar, this is not the only thing filling the air— Ollie’s sniffling and wailing had been the only thing on his mind for the better part of twenty minutes.

“This is the worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever.” Ollie sucks in a deep breath as tears roll down his cheeks. 

He’s on the couch with his poor, faithful older brother, whose pained expression gave away the fact that this was a little much for him to be dealing with at the moment. “The worst thing ever? Even worse than the meteor that came down and killed all the dinosaurs?” 

“Yes,” Ollie insists. “My breakup is far worse than some stupid meteor.”

“Of course,” Oscar says, rubbing Ollie’s back. He exchanges a look with Logan, whose eyes seem to suggest Oscar keep playing along— at least until Lando gets here. “This is awful, Ollie. We all really liked him.”

“Well, I liked him too! Until he cheated on me with a grad student. I bet she’s writing her thesis on how to be a rat-faced whore, and he’s part of the experimental phase.”

“I don’t know that you can say that,” Oscar begins, but Ollie cuts him off.

“And you know the worst part? I liked him so much I’m going to feel bad about sleeping with all his friends. I mean, I’m still going to do it, but I’m not going to enjoy it!”

Oscar looks at Logan, who’s trying not to laugh. No help here. “Isn’t there a little less of a… rat-faced solution to this problem?” Ollie only shakes his head in response. “No? This is something you have to do?”

At that moment, the doorbell rings, and Oscar shoots up, relieved to find a way out of this situation. 

“I’ll go,” Ollie sniffles. “I don’t want to be the dumb little brother who ruins your dinner party. Especially not while I’m like this.” 

Oscar shoots a glance at Logan, who’s looking at Ollie with pity. Oscar sighs, and bites the inside of his cheek. “Ollie, you don’t have to go. It’s nothing fancy. It’s just my friend, Lando.”

“No, really, I can go. He didn’t ask for me to be here, and—“

“Ollie, it’s okay,” Logan chimes in. “Besides, he’s only a few years older than you, right? Maybe it’s a good little rebound opportunity.” Oscar shoots Logan a nasty look after that one.

“Oh, alright,” Ollie sighs. 

Oscar moves towards the door. “Just go easy on him, okay? And don’t listen to Logan.” He looks at Logan, who won’t meet his eyes.

The door swings open to reveal Oscar, who was wearing a collared shirt and dress pants, complete with a very expensive-looking watch. He looked very nice and put together— much more than Lando, who suddenly felt very awkward in his jeans and t-shirt. “Hey, come in,” Oscar smiles easily, gesturing to the bottle of red wine Lando’s been holding. “I’ll take that off your hands.”

“Perfect,” Lando sighs, and steps inside. The place is nice, Lando thinks. Just a little more… decorated than I was expecting. 

Oscar is looking at him funny. “What do you think?”

“Pretty much what I was expecting. Just missing all the chains and entrails hanging from the ceiling.”

“Oh, I put those away. I know they weird you out.” Oscar turns towards the living room and kitchen (which, Lando notices, has a very large window). “Hey guys! Lando is here!”

The first to greet Lando is a guy around twenty, who very quickly pulls him into a hug and— Lando swears— takes a very deep sniff. 

“Um,” Oscar says, with a mortified look on his face, “that’s my brother, Ollie. Ollie, this is Lando, the friend I was telling you about.”

“Hi Lando.” Ollie’s eyes are boring into his soul now. 

“Hey… Ollie…” Lando says, slowly backing up, straight into another man. He turns around to find the perfect All-American boy Alex was describing. Fuck. “And you must be Logan.”

“That’s me. Put her there,” Logan smiles and extends his hand. Lando takes it. It’s ever so slightly wet. 

“Oh,” Lando says. “Um, your hand’s a little…”

Logan wipes his hand on his “Kiss the Cook” apron. “Oh! Yeah, sorry, I was cutting up some veggies. Whoops.” He does not offer a hand towel, leaving Lando with a slightly soggy hand and the worst first impression of all time.

“You smelled nice,” Ollie adds from behind Lando.

Lando tries not to let on how frightened he is. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Or maybe it just smells really bad in here.”

“Ha,” Lando laughs weakly.

Logan nods. “Actually, it is starting to get a little oniony in here. Does anyone mind opening a window, or…” 

“No problem.” Oscar moves towards the large, beautiful window next to the kitchen. Surprisingly for London, it isn’t raining, and he opens it fully to let in the “fresh” air. “Actually, Ollie, could I talk to you for a second, mate?” Ollie does not get a chance to respond as he’s dragged towards the main bedroom, leaving Lando alone with Logan.

“So,” Lando looks at his feet, “what is it you do for work, again?”

“Oh, not much. I’m just part of a group of legal experts for the United Nations. Not important. What is important, though…” Logan slams the knife down onto the cutting board and turns to Lando with utter contempt in his eyes. “Are you trying to have sex with my boyfriend?”

Oh God. “No!” Lando squeaks. “No, no, of course not.”

Logan’s eyes narrow. “Then what are you doing here?”

He makes a fair point. But what was Lando supposed to say? Break up with your boyfriend of five years. He’s so cute and I just want to kiss his stupid sarcastic mouth. Please please please please please please please please please? Obviously not. So he chooses the very safe option of: “We’re just mates. Really. We met at Alex’s party, and again at ‘The Princess Bride’. We went out to a weird American tourist trap thing after because we were hungry,” (there is an unreadable expression on Logan’s face at that) “and we’ve been chatting ever since. Mates. Friends. Only friends. Nothing else. No siree.”

Logan relaxes, and picks the knife back up from the cutting board. “Friends is nice,” he says, “I can do friends. But if you’re trying to move in…”

“No!” Lando exclaims. “I just want to be friends. With Oscar and with you.”

“That’s reassuring to hear, man. Thank you.” Logan resumes cutting the habaneros. “So, our team kind of acts as negotiators in copyright law disputes. Some of us travel, some don’t. It’s a very fun job, actually, as boring as it might sound.” Right. Yeah. This is totally normal. Lando is not scared and confused right now. 

Oscar puts up with these people every day? They do not seem like his style, Lando thinks.

But then again, if Lando was the one in Logan’s position right now, he probably would have used the knife on himself. Logan’s a much better person than he is.

Oscar returns from the bedroom, a grumpy Ollie in tow, and grins at Lando and Logan. “How are you two getting along?”

“Famously,” Logan says, and shoots a very meaningful glance at Lando, who nods in coerced agreement. In another life, they probably would get along famously. But in this one, they had the same type. 

Oscar nudges Ollie. “Also, Ollie, did you have something to say?”

“I’m sorry for sniffing Lando and being generally weird,” Ollie says in a very rehearsed tone. “I will be normal and act like a twenty year old man and not somebody’s shithead toddler from now on.”

Lando tries to stifle a laugh when he glances at Oscar, leaning by the window and grinning proudly at his handiwork. To indulge him, Lando responds. “Thank you for your very kind apology, Ollie.”

“Really?” Ollie looks skeptical.

“Yes, really. As long as you’re serious about the no more sniffing thing, mate.”

Ollie places his hand on his heart. “Deadly.” 

Logan laughs, and rubs his eyes. All of a sudden, his whole body contorts. “Ow! Fuck, man!”

Oscar whips his head around. “You okay, Logan?”

“No!” Logan yells. “Fuck!”

“Shit, mate, he was cutting the habaneros. I think he rubbed his eyes,” Lando says, inching towards Oscar and Logan. 

“Goddamnit, that fucking hurts! Aagh!”

Oscar turns towards Lando, clearly expecting something. Lando looks back in a panic, not knowing what he wants. “What?”

“Mate! Medical school!” Oscar gestures frantically at Logan, who’s flapping his hands and yelling various colorful words. 

“Oh, right. Um, uh uh um,” Lando snaps his fingers while Oscar and Ollie exchange a glance. “Saline solution. We need something like… do any of you happen to wear contacts? Some contact solution would work.”

“I do,” Logan wails. 

“He does,” Oscar confirms.

“Well, fuck, Oscar, I don’t live here! Where would it be?”

“Shit, sorry! Um, in the bathroom connected to the bedroom.” Oscar points him towards the bedroom, and Lando rushes off dutifully. As Lando rushes off, Logan moves towards the open window. 

“Just need some fresh air,” Logan groans, and sticks his entire upper body out of the open window. Trying to get his eyes to water, he hangs out, shoddily balanced.

Oscar nods. “Do what you need to do. Lando will be back in two seconds with the contact solution.”

As fast as he can (and admittedly not looking where he’s going) Lando comes sprinting out of the bedroom with the contact solution.

Right into Logan, who loses his careful balance completely and falls straight out of the window and into the night.

“Oh my God!” Ollie yells, and the three men still inside the apartment rush to the window. Logan was crumpled on the ground 2 stories down. “Are you okay, Logan?!”

“Uggggghaaagh,” comes the reply.

“Holy fuck. Oh my god. I’m going to call 999,” Oscar says, sprinting to his phone. 

Lando hangs out the window, more careful than he would have been five minutes earlier. “I’m sorry,” he calls down to Logan, who blinks wearily up at him. “You look fine?”

Chapter Text

“Fuck,” Logan groans, still in a considerable amount of pain. He’d been wheeled out of the emergency wing and into recovery, where Lando, Oscar, and Ollie could see him. He’d been equipped with a neck brace, a cast for his arm, and a few Band-aids for scratches, but had gotten extremely lucky with the landing of his fall, as far as the motley crew waiting in his room knew. After all, he was still conscious enough to complain.

Lando chews on his thumb, avoiding making eye contact with Logan, while Oscar leans on him for emotional support. When Oscar had first settled into his current position on Lando's shoulder, Ollie had given them the nastiest side-eye Lando had ever seen, and Lando could only smile sheepishly. Not my fault I’m good at supporting people emotionally, Lando thinks. It’s not like we’re making out or anything. Just really good friends who lean on each other in hard times. 

A doctor comes into the room, and Oscar perks up, moving off of Lando’s shoulder. Goddamnit. Can’t the man who fell two stories wait a few minutes?

“Doc,” Logan says, solemnly. “Am I going to lose the arm?”

The doctor stares at Logan. “No. What? No, you’re not going to lose the arm. It’s broken in three places, so it needs the cast. That’s all.”

“What’s the prognosis?” Oscar wonders aloud. 

“6 weeks in the cast, and then it can come off. No strenuous physical activity on the arm after it comes off— no trying your hand mountain climbing, no…” the doctor examines Logan, “baseball. The neck brace is mostly a precaution. He’ll be out by morning.”

“Any chance I can get a little something for the pain?” Logan grimaces. 

“Americans,” the doctor mumbles, shaking her head.

“Excuse me?”

The doctor swiftly begins to leave the room as she talks. “I mean, a nurse will come in and administer some pain medication. Ah, here she is.” 

A chipper-looking nurse enters the room. “Hi, I’m Victoria. You are… Logan Sargeant, correct?”

“I am he.”

“Perrrr-fect. I’m just going to stick this in your arm…good. Okay. Pain should subside within thirty minutes, and expect a very pleasant feeling accompanied by extreme relaxation.”

“Relaxation?” Logan’s eyes widen. “Relaxation? What?”

Victoria tilts her head. “Sorry. is English not your first language? You… feel sleepy. Less stressed?”

“No. I know that. I just…” Logan lowers his voice, but not enough to where Lando can’t hear. “What if I get so relaxed I shit myself.”

“Happens all the time. Worst part of my job. It’s pretty gross.” Victoria grins, and leaves the four alone.

The room is silent (except for Logan’s mumbling), until Lando hears a crinkling of a snack bag. Ollie has opened and is furiously munching on a bag of Percy Pigs. “Should you really be eating in here?” Lando points at the bag, and Ollie rolls his eyes.

“I eat when I’m stressed. That’s why I could never be a fighter pilot. I could never fit in the cockpit. I’d weigh, like, 500 kilos.”

“Right,” Lando says, as Oscar stifles a laugh. 

“I’m going to go into the hallway a bit. Give him—“ Oscar gestures at Logan— “some space. Wanna come with, Lando?”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.

“Ollie, do you want to come?”

Ollie sighs. “No.” 

“That’s what I thought.”

They’ve been in the hallway for five minutes, watching the action of the hospital unfold, when Oscar decides to speak. “I hate hospitals. No offense, or whatever.”

“None taken,” Lando responds. “I’m not bothered, but I don’t like them either. I don’t think anyone does.”

Oscar sighs. “I don’t know, I just have bad memories, I guess. Why don’t you care?”

“I just spent a lot of time in them as a kid.”

“Because of all your deformities?” Oscar asks innocently. 

“Ha. No, actually. My parents were both doctors. Met in medical school. Got married on the roof of Charing Cross Hospital and everything.” Lando unconsciously bites his lip in thought.

“That’s actually pretty romantic,” Oscar comments, and Lando smiles weakly.

“I guess it was. When I was growing up, I used to shadow them around the hospital as much as I could. I didn’t mind it at all, and they loved me, and I loved them. Until the affairs started.” Lando shakes his head. “She cheated on him, and he found out. Turns out the whole time that was going on, he was cheating on her with a pediatrician at a different hospital.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, quietly.

“I was like, seven when they got divorced?” Lando turns his head away from Oscar, and that’s when he sees his worst nightmare coming right their way. 

Oscar follows his gaze, confused. “What?”

Lando turns back to Oscar in a panic. “Oscar. You don’t happen to know how to teleport, do you?”

“I could figure it out, but it might take me a few weeks.”

Lando sighs. There’s no way out of this. “Then I apologize for the horribly awkward situation you are about to witness.”

“Lando?” Carlos says, startled. “Is that you?”

“It’s me.” Lando looks down at his feet, trying to avoid Oscar’s confused gaze.

“What are you doing here? Why are you here? Who’s hurt? Who’s he?” Carlos points at Oscar. 

“I’m Oscar.” Oscar stretches a hand out. Carlos doesn’t take it. 

“Carlos.”

Lando’s voice was curt, direct. “Oscar’s boyfriend fell out a window. That’s why I’m here.”

“Was knocked out of a window.”

“Semantics.”

Carlos’s shoulders sag in what Lando thinks is relief. “Oh. Okay. Good.” Oscar’s mouth twists into a frown; off that, Carlos realizes what he’s just said. “No. Not good. I just. Listen, okay? I’ve been on shift eighteen hours now. I’m tired. I’m running off of Celsius and the words of Our Father. And I saw you with him,” he points at Oscar, whose arms are folded. “And I thought that he was your boyfriend. And that made me sad. And I wanted to cry.”

“Okay,” says Lando.

Carlos turns to Oscar now. “Whatever he’s told you about me? It wasn’t that bad. There’s two sides to every story.”

“I don’t know anything about you,” Oscar snaps. “In fact, Lando’s never even mentioned you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to go now,” Carlos says, moving down the hallway. 

Oscar glares at him. “Please.”

“Bye, Lando. I’m sorry.”

Against his best instincts, Lando musters a very half-hearted “bye.”

“Who the hell was that?” Oscar turns to Lando, confused and angry. 

“That,” Lando replies, “was my ex-boyfriend.”

“Real piece of work, mate,” Oscar scoffs. “What was he talking about that he thinks you would have told me?”

“We met in medical school. We dated for a few years, until one day,” Lando sucks in a breath, “I caught him making out with his lab partner, Charles.”

Oscar’s eyes are as big as saucers. “Charles? Charles like—“

“Yes, that Charles. He didn’t know we were together; it wasn’t his fault. We became friends after that. The point is, the second I saw… that, I left the room and threw up in the bathroom.”

“Lando, I’m—“

“I texted him, ‘we are done’. That’s all I said. Never talked to him again after that, no matter how many voice messages he left on my phone and how many I ended up saving. Because all I could think about was my parents.” Lando clenches his fists. “We met in medical school. Same specializations. And we’d already started cheating on each other.

“So that was it. I was not going to become my parents. I dropped out the day after.”

“Lando,” Oscar says carefully, “do you know what I think?”

“Shoot.”

“I think that by making that decision, you are better than your parents ever were. Instead of choosing to stoop to their level and get revenge on her while destroying yourself, you chose to leave. You actively chose yourself over an endless cycle of pain. I think that your parents could have asked you for a few tips.”

Lando stares at Oscar for a moment, then envelops him in a hug. 

“Thank you,” Lando chokes out, while still holding onto Oscar.

“That’s what friends are for,” Oscar whispers into Lando’s shoulder.

Tears well in Lando’s eyes. He’d never tell Oscar why.

“It is bull-fucking-shit that you didn’t get the project manager job,” Ella says, leaning over Oscar’s work desk. 

Alex Dunne (Oscar makes a point to call this Alex by his last name, as a sign of respect for his cousin) nods in solidarity. “Yeah. It has to be, like, Australia-phobia or something.”

Oscar looks up from his computer. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s what it is.”

“You never know, Oscar. There are some real bigots roaming the world today.”

“I don’t know that anyone’s been prejudiced against Australia since the 1800s, Dunne.”

Ella tilts her head. “Weren’t all of you criminals?” 

“I stand corrected. Ella has just brought back 1800s levels of prejudice. Next, we’re going to starve Ireland and sell opium to China.”

“Please no more starving my people,” Dunne says. 

Oscar gives Dunne a half-smile. “No promises while Ella’s around. She’s a danger to all Ireland.”

Ella pokes Oscar. “You’re changing the subject.”

“Am not.”

It’s Dunne’s turn to poke Oscar now. “Are too.”

“Alex,  you’re engaging. Don’t fall for his machinations.” At that, Oscar gives a mischievous smirk.

“You’re right, Ella. Really, Oscar, everyone knows that job was a lock for you. Why didn’t you get it?”

Oscar sighs. No avoiding this one. “Because I turned it down.”

Alex and Ella raise their eyebrows and yell in unison. “What?”

“I turned it down!”

Dunne grabs Oscar by the shoulders and shakes him a little.“Why wouldn’t you want an opportunity like that? I would take it in a heartbeat?”

“Because I actually like being just an engineer. I like my life right now. I don’t want to drop everything and move to Taiwan, because why would I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Ella mumbles under her breath.

“Right,” Dunne says, moving behind Oscar and leaning down to his level. “Because Osc here has a perfect boyfriend and a perfect job and a perfect flat. Why wouldn’t he want things to stay exactly as they are?”

A breath catches in Oscar’s throat, but he doesn’t let his mates notice it. “Yeah,” Oscar says quietly, “exactly the same.”

“I want to know where all the freaky stuff is. Like cow eyeball, and pig heart. The stuff they don’t want people to see after they butcher the animal.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Oscar, I don’t think they sell cow eyeball at Tesco’s.”

A Saturday for Oscar didn’t usually involve a shopping trip, but Logan had invited him to come with. Oscar had obliged, as a sort of “get well soon gift”. But being bored while Logan strolls up and down the aisles only leaves Oscar alone with his thoughts. 

Logan never invites me on his shopping trips, he thinks, so clearly there must be something awry. Or an alien infection killed Logan, reconstructed his body from the inside out, and was waiting for the perfect moment to kill me by inviting me to a grocery store. The perfect crime.

“Oscar?” Logan says suddenly, breaking Oscar out of his thoughts. Here it comes. He better not start singing.

“Sorry, what?”

“I was just saying I wanted to tell you something, and I couldn’t figure out the right time to do it.” Oscar, I’m an alien.

“Okay,” Oscar says. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, more than okay, actually. We’ve been dating for five years now, and I just think our relationship was built to last, you know? Um…”

“Where’s this going, Logan?”

“While I was in the hospital, I got a call from work with this amazing new offer. I’d join a travel team of lawyers— based out of Dublin— and we’d travel around Europe sorting cases out together.”

“Like lawyer Supernatural,” Oscar says quietly. 

Logan smiles. “Yeah. Like lawyer Supernatural. The thing is, I wouldn’t be home for 6 months, and—“

“6 months,” Oscar repeats, in shock. 

“6 months.” Logan confirms, nodding his head. “Listen, Oscar, if you don’t want me to take this opportunity, then I won’t take it. All I want is for you to be happy, and I think that you’re happy right now, right where we are. Am I right?”

“Yeah,” breathes Oscar. “I’d say you’re right.”

“So you don’t want me to take it?”

Oscar looks up, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he even realizes it. “No. Take the job.”

“Really?” says Logan. “Are you sure?”

“Really. This is an amazing opportunity, Logan. If I got something like that, I wouldn’t pass it up,” Oscar lies. “Please. Take it. It’s what you deserve after working so hard.”

Logan wraps Oscar into a long hug, and says, “I knew you’d understand. I love you.”

“I love you too,” replies Oscar, even when the only thing he can think is I have to tell Lando.

Chapter Text

Lando slams his hands on Alex’s counter. “The scientific name for giraffe is not G. giraffe giraffe. That’s not real. You’ve gone and made that up, mate.”

“Oh, it’s real,” Alex says, carefully placing his hot plate of nachos onto the kitchen counter. “Just like the scientific name for the western lowland gorilla is Gorilla gorilla gorilla. Scientists get lazy and either repeat shit or use their own names. I don’t blame them. If I ever discovered a bug, I’d probably name it like Alexius albono or something.“

“But then what would people call it in casual conversation? The Alex Albug?”

“If I discovered a bug right now—“ Alex pokes the counter for dramatic effect— “it is not a relevant enough bug to be discussed in everyday conversation.”

“Right then,” George interrupts. “Want to talk about something actually interesting?”

George is sitting on Alex’s countertop, while Lando and Alex himself are on a set of barstools facing it. Lando had invited himself over to their (now shared, now that Lando thinks about it) flat to distract himself from romantic endeavors, but it was clear George and Alex had no plans of making him forget about love. After all, when he’d knocked, they had hesitated to answer the door for two minutes, and when Alex had answered, George was pretty clearly putting his pants back on.

After making plates of reheated junk, Lando and Alex had begun discussing stupid conventions in the scientific world. This had been going on now for the better part of thirty minutes now, and it was obvious George had gotten sick of checking his notifications and wanted to stir the pot.

“This is interesting,” Alex insists. 

“No. It’s not. But what is interesting is the great many issues of our time.” Here he goes. “The wealth disparity, the oceans boiling, the rainforests disappearing, whether Lando and Oscar are really just friends or if Lando actually wants to put his junk in Oscar’s trunk…”

“Mate!” Lando yelps, scandalized and blushing, as Alex doubles over laughing. 

“Straight to the point, huh, George?” Alex wheezes.

Lando raises his hands in exasperation. “He doesn’t have a point to begin with! We are just friends, and even if we weren’t just friends, he has a boyfriend.”

“Who you threw out a window,” George says pointedly.

“I did not— ugh, George, you know it was an accident.”

“I know, I know. But it could be a Freudian slip. Or in Logan’s case, a Freudian two-story fall.”

“Stop!” Lando wails. 

George shrugs. “Point is— and I do have a point— that if you like him, you should honestly just go for it. Whatever Alex told you about relationships starting dirty and ending dirty is horseshit. After all,” he smirks at Alex, “he’s the friend I told Max not to worry about.”

“Don’t bring that up,” Alex says, hiding his face in his hands. “I feel guilty enough as it is without you including it in your grand lecture.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” George snorts. “It wasn’t meant to be, anyway. He could tell, by the end, that we only had eyes for each other. And while it was hard, and we avoided one another like the plague after the breakup, we’re on fairly good terms now. And all because I was honest.”

Alex holds a finger up. “Well, actually, you’re only on speaking terms because Kimi kept inviting him over to play video games and you got used to being around one another again.” 

“Well, if I had lied, he wouldn’t be coming over to my flat to play video games with my little brother, would he?”

“I mean, maybe.” Alex shrugs. “Kimi adores him, anyway. Maybe Kimi would just go over to his flammmph.” George smacks his hand over Alex’s mouth to prevent him from speaking, which makes Lando laugh. 

“You’re changing the subject. I just think you should tell Oscar how you— Oh God,” George pulls his hand off Alex’s mouth, “he’s licked me. Fucking gross.” Alex snickers, but lets George continue. “If you tell Oscar how you feel, that ensures no resentments and buried feelings. If you do, and he tells you to kill yourself, then you get over it, but at least you know where you stand. If he reciprocates, well,” George grins, “score.”

“I can’t do that to Logan.”

“He’s going to Dublin, isn’t he? Just spill your guts while he’s away.”

“I can’t do that to anyone, George,” Lando snaps, “and you know why.”

George softens. “Right, mate. I’m sorry. But hear me out. I think that if you really, truly, love someone, you should do whatever it takes. If someone gets hurt in the process, they were bound to get hurt at a different time anyway– if he’s willing to leave for you, he didn’t really love Logan. In love–” George scoots closer to Alex (who’s staring at George like he’d hung the stars in the sky)-- “there are no rights or wrongs except the right person. Love is dirty, Lando. Sometimes,” Alex is holding George’s hips, “love is downright filthy.”

On the word “filthy”, George leans down so Alex can reach his face. “George,” Alex says breathlessly, “I love you so much I’d let you run me over with a Formula One car at top speed until my guts coated your windshield.”

George kisses him, then smiles and whispers against Alex’s mouth. “I love you so much I’d flay you and wear your skin around town like an Alex suit just to touch you.”

Lando clears his throat loudly, and the two scoot apart not out of embarrassment, but out of courtesy for their friend. Then, George’s phone buzzes. “Oh, sorry guys, I’ve got to go.” George says, and moves towards the door. “Forgot I promised Kimi I’d help him play Hinge tonight. Bye, love. See you, Lando.”

As soon as George shuts the door, Alex slams his hands on the counter and whoops. “I just had sex and now I’m about to eat nachos! This is the best day of my life!” Then, off Lando’s expression: “Unless you screw it up with whatever you’re about to say.

“It’s about Oscar.”

Alex shakes his head. “Man, you know how I feel about this. He’s my cousin. It’s like, incest.”

Lando gapes. “He’s not my cousin!”

“Yeah, but you’re like my brother. So it’s like my brother asking me advice on how to incestuously bang my cousin.”

“But I’m not asking you for advice on how to get with him. Because we’re just friends, and he has a boyfriend.”

Alex nods. “Yup. A boyfriend. A boyfriend who’s been over for Christmas for the last five years. Actually, hold on.” Alex holds up a pretty delicious-looking crisp. “This beautiful nacho crisp is Logan. He works for the United fucking Nations as a legal expert. This–” Alex grabs a stray glob of cheese off of the table– “weird cheese blob is you. You don’t do much of anything except sleep, party, and live off of your trust fund.”

“That is not true,” Lando balks, “I make some money by–” he notices Alex slumped over on the table, fake snoring. “Oh come on, Alex. He’s not Elle Woods. He works in copyright law.”

“At least he’s an expert in something. What are you an expert in? Oh yeah, nothing. He and Oscar live together. They own furniture. You don’t own anything. Not even a plant.”

“You know what, Alex? It’s fine. I shouldn’t even care about this conversation, because I don’t like him– don’t fucking look at me like that, mate– and if I did, it would never happen anyway. He’s in a loving, committed relationship.”

Alex sighs. “This is so depressing. You totally killed my sex nacho high.”

“Okay, so… keys, wallet, passport, phone… is there anything else I’m forgetting?” Logan is running around the flat like a headless chicken, but Oscar can’t bring himself to match Logan’s excitable energy. He’s sitting on the couch, quietly, trying not to think about the most constant thing in his life packing up and moving to Ireland. 

“Don’t think so,” Oscar replies.

“Oh, wait. Check your email.” A buzz from Oscar’s pocket matches up with Logan’s prompt. “It’s an open round-trip ticket for a flight to Dublin. It’s already paid for. Use it when you want– hopefully when I’m actually in Dublin– even if it’s just for a weekend. Even if it’s just for a kiss. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Oscar replies, and stands up to kiss Logan, who leans out of it.

“No, Oscar, I’m sorry. I really gotta go, the cab’s already here, I gotta… I’m so sorry. I can't miss my flight. I love you?”

“Love you too,” Oscar replies, but more half-heartedly than usual.

Three weeks and twenty missed phone calls on either end have passed. This time, there’s a message. Oscar presses the button, and Logan’s voice plays through the voicemail.

“Got your message. Cell reception in Athens is a mess. Did you get my postcard?” (Oscar had, but he hadn't read it.) “Why don’t you call me right before you go to bed. I’ll pick up. I just want to hear your voice.” 

Oscar dials Logan’s number, and he immediately picks up. “Hey! Oscar! I finally got my cast off today!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. My arm is, like, all smelly and shriveled. If I felt you up, it would be like you were cheating on me with my evil twin.”

“Please tell me more about how you want to touch me with your creepy rancid freak arm.”

There’s a pause on the other end as Logan changes the subject. “You’d love Dublin. The whole office is living together because they’ve got us staying in the same building. Like college all over again. I’ve made some great friends here, but… I just miss you.”

Oscar pauses, then replies. “Yeah. I- I really miss you too.” There’s a knock at the door, and Oscar looks up. “Hey, I gotta go, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too, Osc.”

Oscar hangs up just as the door swings open to reveal Lando. “I got the coffees you wanted,” he chirps, setting them down at the table. “Black for you, milk for me.”

“Perfect,” Oscar says, and grabs a coffee. “Cheers.”

They both drink, and Lando makes a face, realizing he’d accidentally grabbed Oscar’s drink. “Ugh.” They switch drinks. “How’s Logan doing?”

“He’s awesome,” Oscar says. “He’s doing awesome. He’s having a really awesome time with his awesome friends in awesome Dublin.”

“I get the feeling you’re not having such an awesome time?” Lando leans against Oscar gently. Oscar doesn’t stop him.

“No. I’m having a pretty shitty time, actually. This,” he gestures at Lando, “is the highlight of my fucking social calendar.”

“Oh,” Lando says, “When I’m the best you’ve got, that is pretty sad.”

Oscar looks at him. “I’ve actually been thinking of just starting to drink.”

“Yeah?” Lando says.

“Like, heavily.”

Lando is noticeably caught off guard.“Oh,” he says carefully. “Want someone to drink with? I’m very, very willing.”

Oscar snorts. “You wanna help me drown my sorrows?”

“Absolutely.” 

Oscar half-smiles. “Done.”

The two are in a colorful bar, university-age students surrounding them (and providing most of the energy). They’re each holding a pint, and Lando holds his up. “Bottoms up?”

The two drink, then turn to each other and speak in unison. “Horrible.”

“As always,” Oscar comments.

“Cheap, though,” Lando adds, then leans in. “So… how many serious relationships have you actually had?”

Oscar shifts uncomfortably, then looks up. “Just Logan. How about you?”

“Six,” Lando replies. “One in secondary, two in college, three in university, and one after that. No, two after that. So seven.”

“Are you usually the dumper or the dumpee?” Oscar asks.

“Dumper. I have gotten really good at knowing exactly when to get out. Or just really good at running.”

“Hm,” Oscar says, then takes another swig. 

Lando sighs. “I actually haven’t been to the bar dating scene in a long time. I thought this would be awful, but it was surprisingly… painless?”

Oscar laughs. “I’m just sorry you didn’t find your one true love tonight.”

“Ah, well.” Lando fidgets. “You can’t have it all.”

Lando laughs into his cell phone, splayed across the bed. “So, Oscar… what’s, like, the worst thing that ever happened to you?”

A long pause comes from Oscar’s end of the phone, then tentatively, an answer. “My dad died when I was 11. So, a sixth year? Yeah, that sounds right.”

“Oh my God,” Lando whispers.

“You really don’t know how fucking quickly everything can fall apart until it does. All of a sudden, Dad’s dead, Mom relocates Ollie and I across the globe– though what did Ollie care? He was like seven. He didn’t understand how fucking awful everything was.” Lando hears a deep breath from the other side of the phone. “Shit like that makes you never want to give up anything that makes you happy ever again.”

Silence. Then, Lando responds. “When your thing is your Dad is dead, you should really let the other person go first.”

Oscar cackles from the other end of the phone, and the two devolve into a giggling fit for the next few minutes. Clearly collecting himself, Oscar manages to squeak out “Thanks for the etiquette lesson.”

“Anytime.”

“I have to call Logan. Night, Lando.”

“Night, Osc.”

Oscar, Ollie, Alex Dunne, and Ella are sitting at a coffee shop, happily taking a lunch break. (In Ollie’s case, intruding upon a lunch break, but nobody minded his being there). Ollie, Dunne, and Ella watch Oscar intently as he narrates his current life problems, surprised he’d been brave enough to open up in the first place.

Oscar is slowly finishing his rant recapping what he’d spent three weeks unloading on Lando, and his friends are invested.“...And he’s getting all these new experiences and meeting all these new people. And then people ask me like, ‘Oscar, what’s up with you’? And I have to say that nothing’s different except, whoops, my boyfriend since secondary school is out of the country and I’m just here.”

Dunne shakes his head. “I’m so, so sorry Oscar. I wish we could all say more, but like. What would we even say, you know? It’s not like we understand.”

Oscar sighs. “Yeah, I get that.”

“But,” Dunne continued, “Ollie was saying before you got here about this Lando guy…”

“That’s nothing,” Oscar says, almost too quickly. “We’re just friends.”

“No, we got that,” Ella replies, sharing a glance with Alex Dunne. “What Alex here wants to know is if he’s cute. And single.”

“I’m desperate,” Dunne adds.

Ollie raises his voice. “No, no. You can’t do that. I’ve got dibs on him.” 

“The hell you do,” Oscar says, whirling around. “What does that even mean? He’s like, twice your age, you creep.”

“I’m twenty. I think you forget that.”

Ella decides to be the brave one. “Why do you want to go for Lando?”

Ollie shrugs. “Supposed to be a good rebound. You know, that’s probably why it didn’t work with Gabi. I needed a buffer between the guys, you know?”

“Ollie,” Oscar tries to reason, “you barely know him.”

“But you hang out with him all the time, so he can’t suck. And you haven’t said he’s done anything weird, so he’s not a creep. He’s vetted.”

Dunne chimes in. “Is he funny? Smart.”

Oscar thinks about it. “He’s definitely really funny. And I would say he’s smart.”

“He and Oscar are, like, banter-y together. It’s weird, actually, how in sync they are.”

Ella raises an eyebrow. “Ollie, why do you want to date your brother’s soulmate.”

“He’s not my–” Oscar sighs. “Whatever.” At that, everyone laughs, and it’s time to get back to work.

“Option one,” Alex says, extending an arm, “you make a move on him. Bold, direct. If it goes well, he’ll reciprocate, feel guilty, and break up with Logan. If not, he’ll be pissed and end your little friendship  forever.”

The tailor fitting Alex’s blue suit steps back, interested in the conversation, but clearly not intending to pry. On another one of their weekly errand runs, Alex had insisted he and Lando stop to get fitted for suits, giving no reason why. 

“So…” Lando says, internalizing this. “Be sleazy.”

“Yep. Even if it goes well, he’ll fucking hate you for encouraging him to cheat and forgoing all of your morals. He won’t go for you because you’re…”

“Sleazy.” Lando finishes.

“Yep. Option two.” Alex extends the other arm. “Be the guy that Oscar goes to for advice. The main downside is you would have to listen to him talk about Logan, but with any luck, you’ll be able to slowly poison him against Logan until he’s yours forever.”

“So be conniving.”

“Yeah.”

Lando raises an eyebrow. “And that’ll work?”

Alex snorts. “It’s Oscar. Absolutely not. He’ll see right through you and realize that you’re–”

“A conniving royal vizier.”

“Exactly. Last option, you wait it out. The distance might get to them and they break up amicably, or they might not, and they get married and live a happy life full of domestic bliss with you on the outside, forever doomed to peer in and lament what you could have had if you’d only told him.”

“Sounds pathetic.”

“That,” Alex says, “is because it is. It has the upside of being perfectly ethical, but the downside of being–”

“Fucking pathetic.” Lando sighs. “So your advice is to be sleazy, conniving, or pathetic?”

Alex frowns. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like shit advice, mate.”

“Actually, Alex, why are we even here?”

“Because–” Alex says, reaching into his pants pocket– “of this.” He shows Lando a small box.

Lando looks up at Alex. “A box?”

“Jesus Christ, no. Because of this.” Alex opens the box, and inside lay a beautiful wedding band.

Lando’s jaw drops. “Oh my God.”

Alex smiles dreamily. “Do you like it?”

Lando, still trying to process the situation, takes a deep breath. “It’s not my wedding band. It’s about whether George will like it.”

Alex sighs, shutting the box. “I think he’ll love it.”

“Then you’re made for each other.”

Back at Oscar’s flat after work, Ollie turns to face Oscar. “Why’d you get all weird and flaky when we were talking about Lando earlier?”

Oscar deflates. He’d been trying to avoid this conversation. “Because… you don’t have an amazing dating track record. That’s all.”

“So you think I’m going to break his heart and mess up whatever the hell you have going.”

“Ollie, no.”

“Or is it that I’m not good enough for him?”

Oscar takes a step back. “Obviously not. That’s obviously not what it is.”

“Then what is it, Oscar? Huh?” Ollie uses his height to his advantage, looming over Oscar. 

“I don’t know, okay? I just don’t know. But I don’t like it.”

Ollie turns to leave. As he’s about to leave, he turns back around to face Oscar. “Some of us aren’t as lucky as you, okay? Some of us want someone that doesn’t treat us like shit.” 

Ollie slams the door behind him, leaving Oscar alone. 

Alex is wrapping up his suit fitting. “There is a fourth option.”

“Oh?” Lando says, perking back up. 

“Just be honest. Tell Oscar how you feel. If it ruins the friendship, okay, but at least you stood up, expressed your feelings, and got everything off of your chest.”

Lando feels his heart twist. “Wait, I'm sorry. Since when does being a man involve expressing your feelings? Did I miss a memo? Because if I recall, being a man meant hiding your feelings  forever. Like… Bruce Willis. Yeah.” Lando nods, trying to find where this is going. “You never see Bruce Willis expressing feelings. The most you ever get out of Bruce is a hint of melancholy at the edge of a smirk.”

“I don’t think even Bruce Willis would be happy just being friends. One hundred percent honesty is the absolute foundation of any relationship.”

“Oh yeah?” Lando says. “You’re completely honest with George?”

“Yep.”

“Really?”

“Yuh huh.”

“About everything?”

“Yessir.”

“Vegas. New Year’s Eve, 2019.”

“Ninety nine percent honesty is the absolute foundation of any relationship.”

Lando throws his hands up. “Actually? I can’t do it. I couldn’t handle the risk of losing Oscar, even as a friend.”

Alex steps down, and puts an arm on Lando’s shoulder. “So then, option five.”

“Which is?”

“You move on.”

Chapter Text

The second Lando and Oscar had received their invitations to Alex and George’s engagement party, they knew something was off. 

Now, sitting together at a long table with everyone Alex and George care about, the terrible reality of the situation was beginning to sink in.

No engagement party was this big.

As Alex and George step up to the mini-stage of the ballroom they’d rented out, dressed to the nines, Oscar turns to Lando and says, “I’ll bet you fifty quid they already tied the knot.”

“I’ll bet you fifty quid they tied the knot while Max and George were still together,” Lando whispers, carefully making sure Max (who was seated next to Kimi and Charles) didn’t hear.

Oscar grins. “Deal.” Before Oscar can speak again, Ollie elbows him and tilts his head to the stage. “Oh, they’re starting,” Oscar adds, and the pair shuts up.

“Hello, hello,” Alex smirks, and he and George share a knowing look. Yep, something’s definitely up. “Welcome to our engagement party. We are so happy to have everyone we care about or felt obligated to invite sharing a space. But see, there’s a problem. What’s the problem, George?”

George takes the mic. “Well see, Alex, the problem is that we both hate weddings. Every wedding I’ve ever been to has sucked. Catastrophically.” He pauses, seemingly realizing he’s insulted quite a few people in the room. “Apologies are in order to Nico, Toto and Susie.”

“And you know what’s even worse than a wedding, George?”

“What’s that, Alex?”

“Why, a long engagement, of course! Which is why, after thirty minutes of hard thought, we decided we’re getting married here. Tonight. Lewis–” Alex points at Lewis, who waves to the room– “is our registered civil officiant.”

The room erupts into chaos.

Oscar leans over to Lando. “Guess we both have to pay up.”

George begins to yell over the cacophony of excited and nervous speech. “Dad, I got your tuxedo from your wedding altered. Hope that’s okay. Kimi, where are you Kimi, there you are, you okay with being my best man?” Kimi gives an incredibly shaky thumbs up in response.

Alex leans into the mic. “Lando!”

Lando jumps up triumphantly. “Here!”

“Is gonna be my best man! Alright everybody, wedding on in–” Alex checks his watch– “T-minus one hour! Everyone set your watches and stay away from my Uncle Christian! Alright!”

When Lando walks into George’s dressing room, the anxious energy crashes over him like a tsunami. Kimi is sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth on a chair and mumbling, and George is fussing over a single uncooperative strand of hair. 

“You look nice,” Lando comments. George turns to glare at him, and he gulps. “I’ve been sent to get an ETA?”

“I’ll be ready when Kimi gets me a fucking drink.” He turns towards Kimi, who looks up nervously. “Kimi, if I don’t get some alcohol in me before I go up there, I’m going to kill four random people.” Kimi scurries off, leaving the two alone. Noticing this, Lando turns to leave. “No, not you.” George sighs, and leans back. “I’m nervous, so Kimi’s nervous, which is driving me mad. It’s an endless cycle of pain and anxiety. Just… stay. Talk?”

“Okay,” Lando says and sits down.

“Okay. So.”

Lando’s confused now. “So…?”

“So, why are you torturing yourself over a ten-second conversation with Oscar that will clear everything up?”

Lando’s stomach sinks, and he feels heat creep up the back of his neck. “George. It’s your wedding day. Can’t we talk about you?”

“Exactly. It’s my wedding day. Normally, I would love to talk about me, but as one of the best men, it’s your job to keep me calm so I don’t jump out that window, run off to the countryside, and go marry a farmer.”

“Where would you find a farmer?”

George looks at Lando with that look of his that screams Are you stupid? “On a farm. Obviously. Anyways. What’s the best case scenario for you? ‘Lando, I love you, run away to Australia with me and we’ll live among the wombats and poop cubes forever?’”

Lando nods. “That sounds like the best-case scenario to me. What would the worst-case scenario be?”

“‘Lando, you shit-drizzling cunt. This whole time, you’ve just been trying to put your junk in my trunk.’ Then he throws you into the North Sea.”

“I would probably consider anything involving the phrase ‘junk in my trunk’ the absolute worst-case scenario.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Kimi reenters with a mai tai and a message. “It’s almost time,” he whispers. 

George nods. “Thanks, Kimi. Love you.” As Kimi leaves, George downs the mai tai in one gulp and turns to Lando. “The one thing I love about the idea of getting married is that you get to stand up in front of the people you love the most and state, for the record, that you believe in the best case scenario. Sure, it’s terrifying.” George gets up, smooths out his black tuxedo, and adjusts his blue bowtie. “But that’s why the outfits are so nice.”

Lewis turns to George and Alex. “You may now kiss.” 

George leans down, grabs Alex’s face, and kisses him like he is drowning and Alex is oxygen. Alex grabs George’s hips during the kiss, and pulls away only to say: “I got him! He’s mine! That’s my husband!”

Oscar whoops, and Ollie follows suit with a wolf whistle, both getting out of their seats. A woman who Lando can only assume is their mother shakes her head in mock disappointment, failing to hide her laughter. 

George and Alex take their seats at the head of the table. Alex clears his throat. “This is George’s favorite part. People are going to say really nice things about us.” George gasps in mock indignation. “Kimi, do you mind going first?”

Kimi’s speech goes on for what Lando thinks is an eternity. He sees Oscar check his watch at least a dozen times, and Alex is falling asleep, but George (and strangely enough, Ollie) were both visibly emotional throughout the duration of the speech. 

“...And I learned a lot of lessons that night,” Kimi sniffles, “about gambling addictions, and identity theft, and the ins and outs of the Romanian legal system, but the most important lesson I learned that night was from George. And that lesson was about family. George, I love you.” Kimi steps down from the stage, and there are a few awkward claps. Minus George, who was applauding with a near-religious fervor.

Oscar leans into Lando’s ear. “Jesus Christ, mate, finally,” he mumbles. “If I had to hear the words ‘all in’ one more time, I think I would have spontaneously combusted.” Lando giggles, attracting the attention of Alex.

“Oh, Lando! It’s your turn, mate.” 

Lando turns to Oscar. “Wish me luck.” Oscar grins and gives a thumbs-up in response.

As Lando gets up to the stage, Ollie cheers. “Go, Lando!”

Lando clears his throat. “To those of us who begrudgingly call Alex a friend, it seems impossible that any date could handle him for an hour, let alone a lifetime. And then you meet George. George, who’s been with Alex since childhood. George, who helped Alex get to the hospital when he fell off a bike. These two get sick together, and are in good health together. The reason George can handle Alex for a lifetime is because they’ve already lived a lifetime together. This is just putting a legal definition on their relationship.

“If these two freaks– Alex sticks his tongue out, and George smiles– “can find each other, there is truly somebody for everyone. And that is the good news. The bad news is that these two will inevitably cause the apocalypse.” A few chuckles from the audience. “But tonight, we’re here celebrating the good news.”

“I remember the night they finally got together, that party of Alex’s, and how it felt like everything was finally right in the world. That instant spark, the feeling that they needed to make up for years of lost time they could have spent together.

“You know, if you’re lucky, it happens once in a lifetime. That connection.” Lando looks at Oscar, who has an unreadable expression on his face, and feels his heart squeeze. “And if you’re unlucky, you have to go to weddings and hear people like me talk about it. And then, you assume that we’re all hopeless romantics.

Lando makes eye contact with Oscar, and holds it. “It’s very easy to be cynical about love. But, this? Tonight? Tonight makes it very hard to be cynical about love. So thank you, Alex and George. Thank you for making something so hard look so easy, and thank you for making me realize that when you know,” Oscar is still staring at him, “you know.”

The room erupts into thunderous applause, but one person does not clap. 

Oscar’s mom is staring at him with a pained expression.

Max claps Lando’s back. “That was downright beautiful, mate.” 

Lewis nods in agreement. “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Gee, thanks for the votes of confidence,” Lando smiles, and Lewis laughs.

“I think he had a little inspiration,” Alex nudges Lando. “And it’s coming this way.” 

Oscar places himself awkwardly next to Alex. “Congratulations, mate. Lando’s right. You really did find your perfect person.”

“Thanks,” Alex says, slinging his arms around both Oscar and Lando. “But to tell you the truth, I didn’t need to find George. I’d already found him when we were kids. Somewhere, deep inside me, I knew, like Lando said. I just didn’t know what I knew yet.” He looks back and forth between Oscar and Lando, very pointedly. Lando felt his ears heat up. “Max, Lewis, drinks?” And with that, Oscar and Lando were left alone.

Oscar clears his throat. “This is so awkward, but I have a huge favor to ask.”

“Shoot.”

“I was Ollie’s ride here, but I’m probably going to stay at my mom’s tonight. She asked to talk.” Oscar sucks in a breath. “If you could give him a ride back to his flat– he’s a little outside of the city– I’d love…” Oscar stops himself, and restarts. “I’d be your best friend.”

Lando laughs. “Of course. And you already are my best friend.” 

Oscar relaxes his shoulders. “Ha. Yeah. Thanks again, mate.”

“No problem. Any idea what your mom wanted to talk about?”

“No clue,” Oscar says, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, she wanted to meet you, too.”

Lando’s world stops turning. How in the hell was he going to interact with Oscar’s mother? 

I’ve actually been in love with your son for months now. You know, the one in the committed relationship? The one whose boyfriend you invite over for Christmas every year? Yeah, that one. Mind hooking me up, or…

“Lando?” Oscar says, staring at him expectantly. “I asked if you wanted me to go grab her, and you can meet?”

What the hell, sure. “Why not?” Lando can think of approximately eighty-one reasons why not, but he didn’t say anything. 

Oscar smiles. “Cool. Be back in a second, mate.”

When Oscar comes back, he has a small, kind-looking woman in tow. “Hi, Ms. Piastri,” Lando says, stretching his hand out. 

She takes, but adds, “Please. Just call me Nicole.” Then she turns to Oscar. “Are all your friends this polite and handsome?”

Oscar blushes, but composes himself. “Every last one.”

“Oscar, why don’t you go talk to your new cousin? I want to tell embarrassing childhood stories to Lando here.”

Lando laughs, and Oscar sighs. “Sure, Mum.” 

As he slinks away in shame, Nicole calls after him: “Give George my love.”

Lando grins. “So, what stories do you have for me? Any nights he came back blackout, or fell down the slide, or…”

“I see the way you look at him.”

Lando almost shits his pants. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I see the way you look at Oscar,” Nicole repeats, “and I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why would you be sorry?” Lando’s shoulders sag. He knows he’d been caught. “I’m not going to make him break up with Logan.”

“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you.”

Lando can’t hide it anymore. He’s fucking confused. “I’m sorry, Nicole, but I really don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

“I love my son to death. But I also know how he can treat people. Logan has become a part of our family over the years he and Oscar have been together. And I can see how he follows Oscar around like a lost puppy.

“I can see that Logan loves him more than Oscar has and ever will love him. I knew it years ago. But Oscar,” her voice breaks, “has no experience in letting things go. He sees something stable, something secure, not someone he loves. So he won’t let go. No matter how much he’s hurting Logan.”

Lando’s throat is dry. “And what do I have to do with this?”

“Oscar and Logan are dying. They were dying before you two were ever friends. Oscar is too emotionally immature to break it off, and Logan loves him too much. I’m worried that Oscar is so emotionally immature he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you– and that he probably loves you too.”

He probably loves you too. It’s all Lando absorbs from what she’s said. “You really think so?”

Nicole looks at Lando with nothing but pity in her eyes. “I know so.”

“He said you were going to talk tonight. Can you please not… say anything? About me liking him. I just don’t want him to look at our interactions the wrong way.”

“Of course, honey.” Nicole waves Oscar back over. “Osc, I wanted to get going soon, if that’s okay with you?”

Oscar nods. “Of course.” Then he leans into Lando. “What’d she say about me?”

“Nothing bad,” Lando lies. “You were a weird kid, though.”

Oscar laughs. “Night, Lando. See you soon.”

“This is me,” Ollie says, as they stop in front of his quaint flat. 

“Great,” Lando says, and unlocks the passenger side door. “Have a good night.”

“Listen,” Ollie studies Lando’s face, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come inside with me.”

What. “What?”

Ollie grins. “I mean, if you’re that upset, I guess we could make out a little bit. But just a little bit.”

No, seriously, what. “Ollie, I don’t–”

“What, so you think I’m ugly or something. Really nice, Lando.”

“Ollie, no! What?! That’s not what I meant.”

Ollie laughs a little too hard. “Just kidding.”

“About what part?”

“All of it.”

“Ollie, I am so confused by this conversation right now.”

Ollie shrugs. “Whatever. We can go inside, then.” He leans in, and kisses Lando.

The world freezes. Out of the corner of his eye, a small figure appears on Lando’s shoulder. An angel? No. Oscar.

“Dude, Ollie. Gross.” Shoulder angel-Oscar kicks his feet. 

“This is not what it looks like!” Lando snaps at him.

“No, he’s kissing you right now. It’s exactly what it looks like. He’s cute and everything, but that’s my brother. He’s 99% genetically identical to me. He’s also a freak, so… Anyways. Have fun.” Shoulder angel-Oscar fake gags. “Well, quick FYI. If you reciprocate, you can be pretty goddamn sure that I will never, ever fuck you, ever.”

“Wha–”

“BAM!” Shoulder Angel-Oscar mimes dropping a bomb, then disappears in a flash of light.

“What’s wrong?” Ollie frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Ollie, I can’t. This just isn’t right. I’m sorry.” Lando sighs. “I think you’re great, and all, but I can’t. Also, I think I’m hallucinating, so…”

“Great? You think I’m great?” Ollie looks at Lando, tears in his eyes.

“I mean, yeah–”

“Shut up. I don’t throw myself at anyone. Ever. I make an exception for you because you actually seem like a nice guy, but then all you can say about me is that I’m great?”

“Um…”

“Fuck you, Lando.” Ollie gets out of the car, tears streaming down his cheeks, then slams the door behind him. 

All Lando can do is watch as Ollie walks into his flat and doesn’t look back.

“What the fuck?”

Chapter Text

Oscar and Ollie are sitting at their favorite deli, having brunch, when Ollie decides to speak up. “Don’t you wanna know what happened with Lando and I after the wedding?”

Oscar jerks his head up, then tries to play it off when Ollie smirks. “No. I’m respecting your privacy.”

“Well,” Ollie says, turning his nose up, “he’s a fat, stupid, ugly jerk. And I hate him.”

“Okay.”

“He said, like, dirty, awful, disgusting things to me. Me, Oscar. Your little brother that you’ve had your entire life.”

Oscar hides his smile at Ollie’s dramatics behind his sandwich. “That’s so terrible.”

“I know,” Ollie says, deadly serious. “And I told him, like, that’s gross. And I’m not that kind of guy. So he couldn’t say that. But, he flew into a rage. And he attacked me and tried to break all my fingers and poke my beautiful brown eyeballs out with his disgusting witch nails. The cops had to come and pull him off me.”

“Wow,” says Oscar, trying not to burst out laughing. “The cops came?”

“Yeah. And then he, like, pulled out a gun from the glovebox and shot one in the face. And I said, ‘Lando! You can’t just shoot somebody!’ And he was like, ‘Who cares?’ And he shot them all in the face. All eighty-seven of them.”

“Impressive aim,” Oscar comments, but Ollie ignores him.

“They all died. He didn’t even care. He was just laughing, and shooting them all in the face and also balls, and then he said he was going to come to your house and kill you while you sleep.” Ollie takes a bite of his bacon egg and cheese to signify that he’s done talking.

“Because that sounds exactly like Lando.”

Ollie looks up at Oscar, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Have you talked to Lando since the wedding?”

“I mean, yeah,” Oscar says. “Why?”

“Has he said anything about me completely fucking humiliating myself in front of him?”

“Oh, Ollie,” Oscar frowns sympathetically. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

Ollie laughs weakly. “No, Oscar. It was, in fact, that bad. He  said it ‘wasn’t right’, called me a great guy, and then said he thought he was hallucinating. How much worse can it really get?”

“No, actually, not much worse. Did he say what he was hallucinating, exactly?”

“No. Just that he was.” Ollie sinks lower in his seat. “That might take the cake for the worst car ride of all time.”

“I can think of at least one car ride worse than that, Ollie.”

“At least JFK died with Jackie by his side. I have no one to cover in my brains.”

“We’re no Kennedys, Ollie.” Oscar reaches to the other side of the table for Ollie’s BEC, takes a bite, then sets it back down. Ollie scowls at him in disgust, and Oscar laughs through the mouthful. 

“Come on, mate,” Ollie whines, “what was that for?”

Oscar shrugs. “Hungry. Wanted to torture you. What more do you need?”

“Isn’t my life awful enough without you stealing my food?”

“Just go on some dating apps. Go to parties. And don’t rush into anything with anyone you barely know. Go meet people like a normal twenty-year old guy and stop hitting on my friends.” Ollie guiltily looks down. “Listen, Alex and George got together at one of Alex’s parties, and they’re not the only ones who have. Those parties are relationship magnets, mate. I’ll tell Alex to invite single bachelors your age next time he throws a party like that.” Oscar looks down at his Apple Watch. “Shit, I’ve got to go.”

“Thanks for brunch,” Ollie says, taking out his phone. “I’ll do my best to be normal, or whatever.”

“I didn’t say normal. I said like normal. Normal isn’t achievable for you, anyways, Ollie.”

“Fuck off,” Ollie says, but he’s smiling.

Lando’s playing Call of Duty with Alex on his couch, while George lounges on the chair across the room. He’d refused to play when Lando and Alex asked, stating that he found violent shooter games lazy and boring, but everyone in the room knew George just sucked at them. The match ends, and Alex turns to Lando and George. “So, I was thinking.”

“Oh, no,” Lando says, and George laughs. 

“No, no, it’s nothing too crazy. I was just planning to take George to the beach soon as a little getaway. I was wondering if you’d like to come with us.”

Lando shakes his head. “Sorry, mate, but I’m not into that sort of stuff. Go find someone at the pub whose vibe you like.”

Alex doubles over laughing, and George has an amused smile on his face. “Oh, my God. No. Not like that. I wouldn’t fuck you if we had to to repopulate the Earth after the apocalypse.”

“Thanks,” Lando says.

“I was thinking of asking Oscar, too. A little double date if you will.”

“Date,” Lando repeats.

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be a date,” George interrupts quickly. “Just… friends hanging out.”

Alex smiles mischievously. “Friends with insane sexual tension.”

“Not helping.”

“I’m just trying to tell the truth.”

“If it’s not a date,” Lando begins carefully, “I guess I’d be okay with that. Take some blankets, have a bonfire.”

George grins like the Cheshire cat, and he and Alex exchange awfully suspicious glances. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Oscar’s having a peaceful day at work when Zak, his boss, bursts in like a man on a mission. “He’s fired.”

“What?” Oscar looks up in confusion (and a slight bit of fear, though he’d never admit it). “Who’s fired?”

“The project manager for Taiwan. He’s fired. Gone. Kaput. Donezo.” Zak mimes cutting off his head, complete with a guttural death noise that sort of creeps Oscar out.

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Okay…?”

“The Taiwan team hates him. Nobody listens to him. On the plus side, I hear he’s eating enough Thai food to kill a fucking horse, so. Silver linings.”

“Right. Well, that’s… unfortunate?” Oscar does not know what to make of this conversation just yet.

“I need someone to clean up Josh’s mess. I want it to be you.”

“Oh,” Oscar breathes.

“This whole thing is your concept. If we had you as project manager from the start, we could have saved so much time. And money. And half the peanut population.”

Oscar hesitates. “Zak, I just… I don’t know if I would really enjoy being the project manager–”

Zak interrupts. “You’d get an apartment. Car. Language lessons. Obviously, a raise. I need your answer by the end of the month. Think about it, big man.” His voice sharpens, turning more serious. “And to be absolutely clear: this is the last time I offer you a promotion or a raise.”

“Okay.” Oscar nods. “I got it. I hear you.”

Zak turns to leave, but Oscar calls after him. “Zak. I really am going to think about it. I swear.”

Zak nods in approval, leaving Oscar alone with his many, many thoughts.

“I heard this thing,” Oscar says, warming himself next to the bonfire, “about how when they were trying to name that American brand, Cool Whip, they came up with 10,000 ideas. They literally brainstormed 10,000 ideas.” Him, Lando, Oscar, and George were sitting around a bonfire, set immediately after the sun sank below the horizon. George, ever the ocean lover, had found them a “private” (very, very empty) beach about an hour and a half outside of London, where they could relax to their heart’s desire.

Alex raises an eyebrow. “And none of them were as good as… Cool Whip.” 

Lando interrupts. “Okay, what the hell is Cool Whip?” 

“It’s, like, whipped cream in a tub,” Oscar says. “Logan used to buy it in bulk when he’d visit his family in Florida. Sometimes, he’d even get it shipped here.”

“That sounds awful,” Lando says, crinkling his nose. 

“It’s really not,” Oscar comments. “Sweet, but good. Anyway. Yeah, Cool Whip was the best name. And they were like, try and come up with ten of your own, just to show you how hard it is.”

“Sweet Dreams?” George offers.

Alex tries his hand. “Fancy Cloud?”

“Dream Cream,” Lando tries. 

Everyone falls silent, then bursts out laughing. 

“Dream Cream,” Alex wheezes. “Lando, there’s genuinely no way.”

Lando blushes. “They weren’t lying! It’s hard! It’s not like Fancy Cloud is all that great!”

“Yeah,” Oscar says, wiping tears from his eyes, “but it’s not fucking Dream Cream.”

“Alright, alright,” Lando grumbles.

George nudges Alex and smiles. “Hey, why don’t we go swimming?”

Alex frowns. “I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”

“Neither did I,” George grins and makes his way to the water, beginning to remove his clothing.

“Wait for me! Wait for me!” Alex springs up like a Looney Tunes character and hustles towards the shoreline. 

Laughing at their friends’ antics, Lando and Oscar smile at each other. Lando lays back in the sand. “The stars here are so beautiful.”

“This is what happens when you make your way out of the city,” Oscar says, also laying down. “I still miss the stars when we would visit the bush. It was incredible, mate. I don’t think there was a single star you couldn’t see out there.”

Lando rolled over to look at Oscar, who was still observing the stars in such a way that Lando knew he was thinking about his father. “I’ve never really seen stars,” he admits. “So I can’t really miss what I’ve never had.”

Oscar rolls back to face Lando. “How’s that?”

“I mean, I’ve spent my whole life in one city or another. And I’ve traveled, but when I travel, it’s to other cities, you know? I don’t spend much of my time in nature.”

“I like nature,” mumbles Oscar, looking straight into Lando’s eyes. “Gives me time to think.”

“Oh yeah? What do you think about?”

“A lot,” Oscar whispers, and then sits back up. Lando follows suit, tilting his head back to continue observing the stars.

“Lando?” Oscar says.

“Yeah?” Lando says, looking down from the stars to Oscar, who was just as beautiful in the warm light of the campfire.

Their eyes meet, and Oscar begins to lean in. Lando closes his eyes, stomach churning. But just before their lips touch–

“Oh my God. Where are the car keys?” Lando jerks back to find Oscar palming the sand. 

“What?” Lando asks, ever-so-slightly pissed he’d been interrupted.

“The keys to the car,” Oscar says with barely-concealed panic. “They’re gone. And so are Alex and George.” He points to the ocean, where Alex and George are– or rather, where they’d been. No laughter occupied the shoreline now.

Lando runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck. Is the car still there?”

“I’ll look. You keep looking for the keys, just in case.” Oscar runs off, and Lando begins frantically digging up sand. Suddenly, Oscar was back just as soon as he’d left. “It’s not there. They’re gone. Oh my God, they’re gone.”

“Okay,” Lando says. “Okay. Okay. Alright. Okay!”

Oscar wraps his arms around himself. “Why is it so cold all of the sudden? It was, like, a warm night earlier.”

“You keep the blanket that isn’t dirty. I’ll try their cells.” Lando calls both Alex and George, to no response.

Oscar shakes his head.“No, wait, I can’t just let you spend the night on the sandy blanket all cold, like, like a walrus.” Lando laughs at that comment, but Oscar whips his head around. “What, you think this is funny, mate? Like this is some hilarious prank played on us by our wacky pals? Because it’s fucking not.”

“Jesus, mate,” Lando says, uneasy. “I thought you were trying to lighten the mood with a silly walrus joke. I’m sorry if I didn’t comprehend the seriousness of your walrus reference.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Oscar snaps.

“I’m not being a dick!”

“But you are. You are being a dick. You’re not taking this seriously, and like it’s a joke, and it’s not. It’s not a fucking joke, and this is a line that shouldn’t be crossed, but they crossed it. And treating that like a silly goofy wisecrack is being a dick.”

“I’m not treating this like a joke,” Lando starts carefully. “And I am not being a dick. Alex is being a dick. George is being a dick. And honestly, right now, you’re being a dick.”

“Me?” Oscar’s eyes narrow.

“I’m standing here with a shitty, thin t-shirt that cuts down approximately zero percent of the wind-chill factor on my nipples. I have a t-shirt. You have a blanket. And I have to be the one that keeps a level head?”

“Fine,” Oscar grumbles. 

“Fine? What the hell does fine mean?”

“Fine means we’ll share.” Oscar lifts the blanket, and Lando climbs under it. “Happy now?”

“Yes, actually,” Lando says. “Body heat doesn’t exactly hurt.”

Lando thinks he hears Oscar mumble an “I guess” before the bonfire, blanket, and Oscar beside him lulls him into a deep sleep.

The morning light isn’t what wakes up Lando. It’s Alex and George hovering over the sleeping duo like patrons at a zoo that cause him to jerk awake. “Fuck!”

Oscar sits up quickly. “What? What?” He notices the couple. “Oh.”

A small smirk tugs at the edge of George’s mouth. “Have fun last night?”

Oscar stands up immediately, and shoves through Alex and George on his way to the car. Lando stands up more slowly, rubbing his eyes, and packing up the blankets.

“Sleep well?” Alex says over his shoulder. Lando whirls around and shoves the sandy blankets in his chest.

“You are a fucking asshole.”