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I'll take you on a ride, I'll be your Vixen

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Lando Norris X Oscar Piastri

Word Count: ≈3,2k

Christmas Fluff, Humor, my way to cope with Qatar

Someone keeps hanging up mistletoes around the McLaren hospitality and Lando Norris? He's losing his fucking mind.

read on ao3 oder continue down below. 🫶

I’ll take you for a ride, I’ll be your Vixen

Think I only want you under my mistletoe

I might change your contact to "Has a huge North Pole"

You said you like my stockings better on the floor

Boy, I've been a bad girl, I guess I'm gettin' coal (no)

Lemme come warm you up, you been out in the snow

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like "ho-ho-ho"

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Someone at McLaren is fucking with Lando Norris and it’s driving him proper mad. They’re in Abu Dhabi currently, last race of the 2024 season. After Qatar, they’re still battling it out for the Constructor’s Championship, honestly, he’d prefer not to talk about the Qatar race altogether. They had flown out for the last stop of the triple-header straight away on Monday morning, arriving about an hour later in Abu Dhabi.

It started straight away, when Oscar and he had walked into the team’s hospitality on that first day, just some time after lunch break. Lando had been the one to walk in first, opening up the glass door for them both and holding it out for Oscar. Waiting a little for his teammate to catch up, he failed to miss how everyone in the room had gone silent, watching the two of them arrive with curious eyes. Just as Oscar had come to a stop next to him, one of their engineers had cleared his throat. “Guess they caught another pair,” Marie from PR had said, and only then Lando realized something was wrong. Very wrong indeed.

Why? Because hanging above their heads was a mistletoe. Just Lando’s luck, really, to get caught beneath one with his teammate he’s been harbouring a silly crush on ever since the start 2024 season. Listen, maybe he’d spent a little too much time on TikTok. Getting lost in a rabbit hole of Oscar Piastri thirst trap edits had led to someone very interesting revelations. (Max had laughed at him, when he told him about it. Not about having a crush on Oscar, of course, but rather finding out about his apparent bisexuality. “You’re not quite straight, the sky’s blue. Moving on!”)

Oscar just laughs though, “Yeah, don’t think that’s meant for us, mate,” before dipping through the space left to Lando and strolling into the directions of their driver rooms. Duh, Lando thinks, of course he doesn’t want to kiss you, stupid. Maybe he’s a little flippant for the rest of the day, afterwards. Being flat out rejected like that, hurts more than he’d like to admit even now.

So, when he walks into the McLaren motorhome on Tuesday and there’s no more evil-green hanging from the ceiling, he thinks he’s safe. They’re only there to review some things for the upcoming days, a meeting about how they’ll be spending the weeks before Christmas at the factory. It’s his fault, really, for assuming it’d be a one-time thing. Like the 2024 season hadn’t been a series of the universe fucking him over. Why not go for it one last time?

The most embarrassing thing is the fact that their bosses are around this time. Lando, running a little late of course, falls onto the chair next to Oscar, when both Andrea and Zak begin to laugh. “Boys,” Zak wheezes, “I think there’s a little elf working something out for the team,” as he points upwards to the ceiling. Of course, there’s another mistletoe swinging above them, and this time around Lando feels targeted. Whoever put that up knows where Oscar and he like to sit in these debriefs. Who is fucking with them like this?

Lando splutters, “No, mate. That can’t be for us, it’s probably some of the girls playing a prank on their co-workers or something. Aren’t Ava from Marketing and Joseph from strategy dating?” Honestly, he’s not sure they have an Ava from Marketing in the team.

“You’re thinking of Lydia from PR, actually,” Oscar thinks out loud. Yeah, sure. Keep them coming universe, maybe if he takes one more loss this year he’ll just die of embarrassment. Spare them all from having to through this the next year as well. He’s just about to speak up to defend himself when Andrea interrupts, “Well, wherever it might have come from, I’ll have a talk with management, I’m not sure our employee guidelines allow such a thing.”

Thankfully, they start with the meeting then. Afterwards he thinks he’s fine. Save. Yesterday there’d only been on attack, so surely their mysterious Grinch (Lando refuses to call them an elf, considering they’re putting him through torture) must be done for the day, right?

Wrong. So wrong on every merit.

The team calls them downstairs for some sort of challenge, the last one they’ll have to film for the year. Just as they’re heading into the cafeteria, there’s giggles breaking out all around the room. Lando doesn’t dare to raise his head for a second, but he knows exactly what they just walked into. He sighs and thinks maybe it’s time to finally give in. “You guys have to kiss now,” Clara from Online Marketing explains, and Lando would like to roll his eyes hard enough for them roll into the back of his head and never return. Thanks, girlie, figured that one out already.

Oscar’s cheeks are turning into a cherry-red next to him, and he’s starting to look uncomfortable. Curse his weak heart and his darn teammate for making him want to protect the younger from everything bad, burry him in blankets and make him a hot chocolate. Fuck, there’s got to be a way for this mess to stop, right?

“Maybe if we’ll do it, they will stop,” Lando squeezes out quickly, not giving himself a chance to back out. “What!?” The Australian looks even more perplexed at that. Before he can think better of it Lando steps on to his toes, which is just adding insult to injury, and presses a soft kiss to Oscar’s cheek. “There, that should satisfy the Christmas spirits, right?”

The blush starts to make its way up to Oscar’s ears and Lando starts to worry he’ll be fired for sexual harassment of a co-worker. Fuck, he went too far, didn’t he? “I’m so sorry, Osc,” he blurts out then, and he’d really like to sprint back to his driver’s room. Maybe he’ll do that, fuck the PR team and their silly challenges. They can figure something out, maybe act like he’s sick or something along those lines, so Lando starts to make a run for it.

Doesn’t get far though, considering the tight hold that’s suddenly appeared on his wrist. There’s a smile on Oscar’s face now, and it looks even cuter with the rosy cheeks beneath warm, chocolate brown eyes. “Landers, you’re fine,” Oscar breathes, “Let’s just get through this video and then we can go and head back to the hotel, alright?”

It’s what they end up doing, the PR team have prepared a collection of different kind of Christmas sweets and pastries from around the world and their task is to make a tier list. They all are pretty mint in Lando’s humble opinion, but he’s got a sweet tooth, really. His teammate is severely less enthusiastic about some of the candy, but he caves in when Lando wants to put them into a higher tier. The power he’s got over Oscar in moments like these, and the soft gaze that’s turned towards him have caused many delusional thoughts in Lando brain. Listen, you can only read ‘Heart-Eyes-Piastri’ so many times about your own teammate before you start believing those things. Lando’s just a silly little guy at the end of the day, with a big, fat, dumb, gay crush.

Thankfully, on Wednesday they’re both at different sponsor events and off-track, so it’s easy to avoid Oscar. And any mistletoes, too. When they return for media day on Thursday, they make it through most of the day without any incidents. Well, there was that moment in the morning, where Oscar had greeted him and Lando almost spilled the tea in his mug on himself but that he can’t blame that one on anyone else.

Lando’s on his way back from the press conference when he decides it’s the perfect time to invade Oscar’s space and privacy with his stellar personality and pleasing presence. Maybe he’s also still a little hurt from that penalty. Getting put through the ringer by the press once more had caused a little more hurt. He’s learned it’s best for himself not to be alone with his thoughts on those occasions, and being able to poke at Oscar’s patience a little or tease the younger, until he gets all huffy and cute is usually a great way to improve his mood.

Just being around Oscar is enough most days, really.

More than half the time, Lando doesn’t even bother knocking anymore, so he just opens the door but before he can waltz into the room, he runs into Oscar’s back. Oscar, who’s busy trying to reach something hanging from the ceiling. No, it screams in Lando’s head. No fucking way.

“Osco?” He mumbles into the soft material of the McLaren branded polo the other is wearing. Oscar sighs softly before turning around, getting his hands on Lando’s waist and pulling him in close. Resting his cheek on top of Lando’s dark curls, “I don’t think I have to tell you what I’ve been trying to rip from my ceiling for the past ten minutes, do I?”

“Do you think the team’s filming some kind of prank?” Lando starts to think about his suggestion in greater detail and can’t say he’d put it past the PR department to plan something crazy like that.

Seems like Oscar agrees with the sentiment, nodding his head in a move that makes his chin graze the top of Lando’s head, “Honestly, I can’t say it’s not something they’d come up with it.” They separate then and Lando helps his teammate to get rid of the offence grass, Oscar putting his arms around the older one more time and lifting him up, so Lando can reach the end of the strands and pull them down. “Well, at least no one was around for that one, right?” The Brit tries to make light of the situation.

It doesn’t change the fact that the whole ordeal is humiliating and Lando’s starting to believe however might be orchestrating this might be aware of Lando’s feelings for the Australian. That would be a nightmare come true, seriously it’d be first time in his Lando might start to consider changing teams, once the offers flies onto his desk. If it saves his (and Oscar’s) dignity, he’d be able to patch up his papaya-bleeding heart. Eventually, at least.

The idea comes to him on Friday morning, as he’s chewing on his overnight oats, Jon sitting next to him and munching on a Nutella toast. Modern form of torture, really. Anyways, the idea: Maybe the only way to get through this weekend, is staying away from Oscar. As much as it pains him to do so. He’ll do it to safe the tentative friendship he managed to build with Oscar over the past two years.

Sadly, it seemed a lot easier in his head. Of course, Lando knows it’s not as easy as simply running out of a room once Oscar walks into it (which he still does of course) but in between practice session they usually like to sit down and debrief a little. Talk about how the car’s feeling beneath them and what set-up changes might work. When Lando dips out of the garage every time the younger dares to step a little closer, and he knows he’s being quite obvious about it. Judging from the disappointing look on both Will and Jon’s faces, which - rude? Mind your own fricking business.

The hurt in Oscar’s eyes though? That’s a different story altogether and Lando can’t help but feel bad about it. If only the younger could understand he’s doing it for them, not trying to ruin their relationship. Maybe he’s being uncharacteristically optimistic, thinking their friendship could still stand, after the carnation his feelings will bring to it. At the end of the day, he’s only got himself and his wretched heart to blame.

Turns out all his work has been for nothing, which is just the cherry on top. McLaren is hosting a small Christmas party at the common room Friday evening, it’s nothing compared to the actual celebrations they will hold the days before the Holiday once they’re back in Woking but it’s nice, nonetheless. Lando’s ecstatic about the Christmas pastries and Holiday hits playing in the background every year, mostly because Jon will forget about his diet for around three hours that night. It’s more than he gets on most days, so that enough is reason to celebrate.

He truly tries his best the whole time, erratically crossing the room to find himself in conversation with the person, that just happens to be standing furthest away from a certain Australian racing driver. At first, he’s locked in conversation with Zak about their holiday and break plans, coordinating a day to hit the golf court together. Then, he’s busy catching up with some of the press team, asking Lauren about her kids and their Christmas wishes. Of course, he's also with Andrea for some of the night, and Will joins them too.

Lando feels like he’s being watched the entire time. And he is, the way Oscar’s gaze follows him around the room makes the older sweat in his ridiculous papaya-coloured Christmas sweater. Oscar seems to be able to read Lando’s thoughts and emotions on most days, so he figures it’s no different today. Much to his own disappointment.

Eventually, the party fizzles out. Most of the employees biding their goodbye and heading back to their hotels, they still have a qualifying session tomorrow, after all. There’s nothing Lando more desperately hopes for than making up his errors to them all.

Unfortunately, it also means there’s significantly less of a buffer between him and Oscar. Only so many times Lando can hide between Jon and the wall, without it becoming ridiculous. Once the other driver crosses the room to come up to Lando, Jon in a truly evil act of betrayal, pushes Lando out from behind himself and leaves him there. Left to the wolves, Lando can’t do nothing but wait for Oscar to come to a stop in front of him.

The unimpressed stare that’s looking down on him (their height difference is less than this, Lando swears to God) makes his stomach flutter. “Hi,” Lando squeaks out. Yeah, that’s it. Play it cool, Lando thinks, he won’t notice anything’s wrong like that.

“Okay, mate. What’s wrong with you?” Oscar deadpans in reply. Lando would like for this whole fucking-him-over spiel to be over sometime soon. Can he call in sick for work tomorrow? Would Jon kill him? No, probably not.

Andrea would though and he’s way scarier.

Lando’s stuck thinking about his excuse when they get interrupted by the drawl of Oscar’s performance coach, Kim grinning at them. “Lads?” The older Australian is pointing up towards the ceiling above their heads and Lando might implode right here and there. Fuck over McLaren in the Constructor’s Championship one last time. Going out like the gods intended, maybe.

No fucking way.

But of course, when Lando raises his head properly there’s another mistletoe hanging between them. Can the aura of a motionless object be menacing? It’s a menacing mistletoe, at least in Lando’s mind. The biggest groan passes his lips. Fine, okay. Someone in the team wants Lando to destroy their teammate dynamics for ever? Let him prove to that person how grave of a mistake they’ve just made.

Without saying another word Lando grabs Oscar’s wrist and drags him along behind himself, powerwalking down the hallways until they reach his driver’s room. There’s McLaren branded hoodies flying all around the floor and Lando only notices now he’s forgotten to turn off his Switch, the Breath of the Wild soundtrack filling in the silence in the room. Rito Village by day, what a damn banger.

“It’s that what this whole thing has been about? The mistletoes?” Oscar looks properly astonished at the revelation. Like he can’t quite believe Lando’s foolishness. Honestly Lando can’t believe it himself on most days. “Lando, I don’t care about those,” Oscar explains and there’s a smile spreading on his lips. Trust Oscar Piastri to look this cute just before he’s about to shatter Lando Norris’ heart into a thousand pieces.

“I care,” he grumbles turning away from the other. It’s a senseless effort, trying to save the last of his dignity by refusing to look Oscar one more time. “I figured it out, you know? Why they keep appearing around us.”

There’s a confused noise leaving Oscar, “Uh-huh. And why do you think it’s happening?” This is it, the end of it. Lando Norris, November 13th, 1999 – December 6th, 2024, cause of death: embarrassing crush reveal.

“Whoever’s doing it must know I’ve been harbouring a stupid crush on you for most of the season. I’m sorry, Osc, I didn’t mean to drag you into it. I swear I’ll get them to back off, and then if you uh, want to put some distance between the both of us, I’d understand that too, of course,” the Brit rambles. Still doesn’t dare to turn around to look Oscar, too afraid to face the other’s feelings.

In a twist of fate, Oscar decides to remedy it by himself, grabbing a hold of Lando and turning him around. The expression on Oscar’s face is nothing like Lando expected, a white smile with bunny teeth, a warm flush to his cheeks. “Lando, I’ve had a crush on you since I was fifteen, keep up please,” he laughs before letting his hands wander to his cheeks.

Oscar pulls him up and into a soaring kiss. Lando feels like he’s just short-circuited but thankfully his brain reboots quickly and he’s kissing back. They start out quite wholesome, just a gently brushing of lips. Until Lando decides he’s had enough of Christmas cheer and let’s his tongue swipe across Oscar’s lower lip gently. He’s about to take it up a notch, when there’s suddenly cheering and clapping behind them.

They flinch apart in a flash. It’s Jon and Kim, standing in the open doorway with twin smiles on their faces. Those scheming little grinches. “Looks like our plan worked,” Jon hums, clearly pleased with himself. The rage on Lando’s face must be pretty telling, because in the next moment both of their trainers vanish back into the hallways.

Lando’s just about to run after them, when Oscar grabs him by the waist instead and drags him back, until Lando’s back collides with the other’s chest. Their difference in sizes even more obvious, with the way Oscar’s shoulders embrace his own. “Baby,” Oscar’s whispers into his ear, “I think we have some more making up of lost time to do, before we take care of those two.”

And yeah, that’s – that’s pretty fucking fair.

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thanks for reading xoxo

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