#this snippet is like if back to the beginning by djo was smooshed together with the papaya blorbos I reckon

[wisteriagoesvroom]

WIZ ITS ELLIE. soft + landoscar please?

Oscar doesn’t know why they’ve found time to sneak down to Oakleigh. Or how, exactly. Just that he had a contact of a contact, and they were always going to welcome him back here. And they’ve given the both of them some race suits, free run of the track, and a “go have fun”.

They’d found this place, like a shared secret. Clattering through the gates and sneaking away from their handlers. Each making an excuse about quiet time. Nobody questioned either of them about it, chalking it up to the general air of celebration after Albert Park. That’s the beauty of being golden children, you see. When you win. Standing in the sun, silverware in your hands, in front of a camera. Oscar hadn’t even needed to pretend at all - he beamed at Lando because he really meant it. P3, P4. For the team. Nothing to do with the way Lando’s smile creeps into him like sunlight. Nothing like Oscar’s own reflection staring back at him from the dish, gently held in Lando’s hands.

Besides, Oscar knows he’s hungry. He wants more. But it’ll be his time.

And right now, he gets to relive his memory of karting, on the track where he started. Growing awkward into his limbs that didn’t work how he wanted to yet, a fierceness that he hadn’t tamed, conscious of the knowledge that there were boys always faster, faster, faster than him. And chasing people like them, chasing Lando, was like driving towards an apex and knowing you would hit it — it was just a matter of time. How fast you could launch yourself at it, come close to bending time. Oscar has tried, and he will try still. There is something in him that will not be sated, and it is in Lando, too.

But for tonight: they rest. Just him, and his teammate. The floodlights. Boisterously loud crickets. Their own helmets, in their own hands. Two karts. Back to the beginning. Except the beginning is here, it’s when he was seven years old and dad helped him climb into the kart. It’s him in an airplane with one stop going to a cold and wet country where vegemite has the wrong name. It’s Rokit and Prema and Alpine and lawsuits and loud chatter and media distractions.

It’s a sea of eyes assessing him, but only one person’s that he cares to remember. Blue-green eyes, daring to ask the question without words: who are you? what will you become?

Oscar knows, because he has looked into the mirror and asked himself the same, too.

Those blue-green eyes search his own now. Then they steady.

The two of them. Same height, barely two years between them. Same dreams.

Then Lando smiles. Eyes the colour of soft streaking sky, the way it is when Oscar’s in the car and has a chance to look up.

“Ready for me to kick your arse?”

“You won’t.” Oscar says, easily back.

It’s taken them a year, but Oscar thinks he gets it. Talking to Lando is like holding a bird in the palm of your hand. A fluttering thing, fast.

And he thinks of the journeys birds take. Of comings and goings, of the silent effort of flight. He thinks of being two years behind and too small, and looking at the boy in the go kart, on the screen of his phone, who believed in himself enough to do it too.

Oscar zips up his race suit. And he grins. Lando’s eyes glitter with promise.

“But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#landoscar #Oscar Piastri #Lando Norris #f1 rpf #twinklaren #mctwinks #prompt fills #wisteriawritesstuff #asks #thank u el!!! #this snippet is like if back to the beginning by djo was smooshed together with the papaya blorbos I reckon #kinda sorta #inspired by that snippet of Oscar talking recently about oakleigh #and lando visiting it #idk that this qualifies as soft #but for now???? an adjacent Attempt #goodnight world