#UGHHHGHGHGHGGGHGHG

[wanderingblindly]

21 + landoscar pretty please?? 💖💖

at first I read this as FROM a place of insecurity and got so lost. Later realized that I'm a moron, and the prompt is ON a place of insecurity, which makes so much more sense. Anyways, why where the Esquire photos so smoothed out :((( justice for Oscar's skin. Prompts here!

High-Gloss

"Ooooh," Lando gushes – only half sarcastically – as he holds his phone up for Oscar to see. "Mr. CEO, huh?"

"What?" Oscar asks, looking away from the TV for only a brief moment; from his spot in Oscar's lap, Lando can see something in his eyes, a flash of tension in his jaw, before he looks away. "Oh."

Hesitantly, Lando lowers his phone back down, letting it fall onto his chest. "Did you not like the shoot?"

"Yeah, um." He doesn't look down at Lando, doesn't move his hand from where it gently rests in his hair. "It was fine."

"Doesn't sound fine," Lando pushes, brows pinched. Fine isn't anywhere near the word he'd use; Oscar looked fucking hot in the shots he'd seen, siting in a starched shirt, staring down the camera as the light illuminates the gold in his eyes.

It made Lando's stomach flip painfully when he'd see it, like Oscar had pinned him in place.

Oscar's thigh flexes slightly under his head, relaxing just a second later. It's one of his minute tells, the ways that he tries to expel tension before others can see it. But Lando can feel it, even if Oscar refuses to show it.

He sits up, shifting so that he's sat facing Oscar – pointedly still looking at the TV, not at Lando's curious eyes.

"Did something happen?"

A sigh. "Not really, it's…" He pauses for a moment, gnawing on his lower lip. "Just not my thing, I guess."

"Oscar." Lando deadpans, leaning forward, forcing Oscar to look at him. He averts his gaze all the same. "Get your eyes checked, mate. You look incredible, Lewis-level shit."

But Oscar doesn't chuckle at it like Lando expected; he feels his heartrate rise.

"Can you at least look at me?"

"Seriously, Lando, just drop it."

"No." Lando sounds nearly offended, bristled. And maybe he is. For Oscar or himself, he's not entirely sure, but the energy in the entire conversation is… skewed. Wrong-footed. Oscar feels almost distant despite being right in front of him, eyes diverted to the side. "Did someone say something?"

It's there again: that flicker of tension between Oscar's brows, in his jaw. Lando puts his hand on his leg, feels the muscle jump under his touch. And Lando's stomach sinks, his expression softens.

"Osc," He whispers, other hand slowly moving towards Oscar's face, almost coaxing him into meeting his gaze. "Baby, c'mon,"

Oscar's eyes are watering, he realizes with a cold-shock, by the time he looks at him. They sit in silence for a moment, Lando's hands cupping his jaw and pressing into his thigh, Oscar's lip quivering ever so slightly.

"It's the –" Oscar's voice sounds tight, like he's keeping a death grip on his composure. "Lot of editing, huh." He tries to laugh it off, dry and unnatural – vibrating through Lando's palm.

Looking at him so closely, thumb grazing against his cheek, Lando puts the pieces together. The close up shot, specifically, comes to mind.

"It's…" He's at a loss for words, not entirely sure what to even say to make it better. It's not you, it's them? That's stupid. It's true – it was literally the editors that smoothed his skin and made him look overly airbrushed – but it's still hallow. "You're always perfect, ok?"

It's not much better, but Lando tries not to wince. Instead, he leans in closer and places a gentle kiss to the corner of Oscar's eye – tasting the moment before the tears fall, if he lets them.

"And I love every," Lando presses another to the mole in his hairline, just beyond his eyebrow. "Single," Another on his cheek. "Part of you." A final near his nose.

He feels it, Oscar attempting to control the emotions by grinding his teeth – jaw shaking in Lando's hands.

"I mean it," He whispers, lips still grazing his skin. "I love you."

Oscar lets out a shaky breath, covering Lando's hand on his thigh and squeezing.

"And fuck 'em, yeah?" Lando smiles, pulling away enough to look at Oscar's face – to see a tentative smile pull at the corner of his lips.