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Lando was well aware that any amount of small, annoying things that came with his career would never even tip the surface of outweighing the positives. All the grievances he had with long media days, invasive questions, lack of privacy - it was all easy enough to cope with when the checks hit his bank account and the time came to get back into the car.
That being said, Lando hated going to the goddamn doctor.
It wasn’t anything new, really. He had distinct memories of being a child and crying in the car while he begged his mum to not make him go in - not that it ever got him anywhere.
Unfortunately, being an adult now, kicking and screaming wasn’t really much of an option.
He’d gotten much more used to it since he started driving in Formula 1, given the near constant medical monitoring and clearances he had to go through. He still always hated it, but the appointments were quick, minimally invasive, and never too much of a bother.
Usually, at least.
Once a year though, before preseason testing started back up, he had to deal with what felt like an entire gruelling day of different tests, physical exams, scans, bloodwork, the whole nine yards. And Lando fucking dreaded it every year.
The day of his appointment felt like it crept up entirely too quickly, even though he’d been eyeing his calendar in terror every day that week leading up to it. Looking at the date on his phone's lock screen had started feeling closer to a doomsday clock than anything else. But there was no avoiding it, and as much as he procrastinated getting ready when the day finally came, he still dragged himself out of the house all the same. Headphones in one of his pockets to distract himself during the in-between times of talking to medical staff, his favourite gum in the other for some sort of stupid sensory distraction, even a goddamn fidget toy he’d attached to his keys just in case.
It all made him feel slightly childish, but going in at least somewhat prepared was better than the alternative.
He’d all but forced Max F to tag along with him for moral support, giving him a tight lipped smile and a wave while he approached him in the parking lot where he was waiting to pick Lando up. Max had always been good at providing stupid commentary to get his mind off of things when he was stressed or anxious. That, and he’d seen Lando in just about every emotional state possible, so he didn’t have to worry about playing things down in front of him.
He let out a dramatic, exaggerated groan as he finally sat into the car, slumping back in the passenger seat and shutting his eyes with a frown.
“Hello to you too,” Max teased, sounding far too pleased with seeing Lando in distress.
“You think they’ll fine me if I reschedule?” Lando murmured in response, prying his eyes open to look over at him with a contorted expression.
“Don’t think they’d fine you, mate. But they wouldn’t let you race, so that’s probably something to consider.”
And, yeah, Lando supposed that was fair. His flight was just a couple days from now, time wasn’t exactly on his side.
“Stupid,” he muttered under his breath, yanking his seatbelt across his chest and shutting his eyes again.
The ride over felt entirely too short, and half-listening to Max monologue about Call of Duty only did so much for maintaining what was left of his sanity. When he finally put the car into park in the lot, Lando didn’t move a muscle, praying that if he kept his eyes shut for long enough, he’d wake up and realize that this was all some preseason stress induced nightmare. But it only took a few more seconds before Max was shoving at his shoulder and unbuckling Lando’s seatbelt for him.
“C’mon, Bob. Be a big boy, we’ll get you an ice cream after if you’re good,” he jeered, earning a sharp glare in his direction from Lando before he finally opened the car door.
“Can’t even have frickin’ ice cream,” Lando grumbled, stepping out of the car with a huff.
“It’ll be fine, mate. Always is. I’ll be here to pick you up later, yeah?”
Lando nodded, sighing to himself and giving a quick, “thanks,” before finally closing the door and forcing his legs to carry him towards the entrance of the building.
Regardless of the likely obscene amount of money McLaren must have had to pay for the health and wellness center built a couple years back in the MTC, Lando couldn’t deny they did a pretty damn impressive job with it. It was somewhat nice to kick things off there. Some sort of stupid familiarity of at least feeling somewhat at home in the building he’d start his day out in before leaving to get his scans done.
That didn’t detract from the way his stomach churned immediately upon exiting the doors of the gym into the hallway leading to the medical facility.
The sterile smell of alcohol and latex flooded his senses straight away, his heart beating heavier in his chest already before he’d even gotten to the goddamn room he was supposed to wait in.
After taking a seat, he wasted his remaining few minutes of waiting scrolling Twitter on his phone, only vaguely processing what he was reading. Unfortunately, before he knew it, his name was being called from a far too cheerful looking woman holding a clipboard at the other end of the room. He vaguely recognized her from a couple previous interactions for medical clearances - Katie, if he was remembering correctly - she’d always been nice enough. The familiarity would be helpful, at least. He forced a smile at her, prying himself up from his chair and walking over.
“Morning, Mr. Norris! We’re gonna be just down the hall here,” she greeted him, holding the door open before leading him down another short hallway.
“Sounds good.”
It did not sound good at all.
She held another door open for him once they arrived at the room, gesturing for him to take a seat on the covered examination table. A slight shiver went down his spine at the crinkly noise it made when he took a seat, his legs hanging off of it, not quite reaching the ground.
“Alrighty. I’m gonna have you fill this out really quick, just a little questionnaire to give the doctor some more info, and he’ll be in with you shortly, okay?” She said with a smile, handing him over the clipboard she was holding as well as a pen.
Lando glanced down at the clipboard before looking back up at her with a confused, slightly startled expression. Because, ‘he’? All the doctors he’d had here before had been women - a couple male nurses, but something about the women specifically always made him feel more comfortable.
“It’s- Uh, it’s not gonna be you with me today?”
“Not today, sweetheart. Doctor Piastri’s lovely though, you’ll get along just fine.”
“...Right. Mint.”
The woman smiled at him, quickly typing a couple things on the computer at the side of the room before exiting again.
Lando swallowed hard as he stared down at the paper in front of him, beginning to fill out the information while he waited for the doctor to arrive. The anticipation of waiting for the door to open again had him irrationally on edge, and trying to focus on filling out questions about his medical history and personal information felt like a near impossible task.
Before he’d even finished the form, Lando nearly jumped out of his skin when the door was suddenly being pushed open again with a loud click, his eyes immediately snapping up to the entrance of the room.
He figured he must have looked a bit terrified, because the first thing the man said was, “oh! Didn’t mean to startle’ya, sorry.”
Lando’s jaw hung slightly open for a second, his gaze still locked on the man - Dr. Piastri, he supposed - while his brain fought to catch back up to reality. He looked young, almost too young to be a doctor. But more importantly than that, Christ, this guy was hot. Like, unbelievably hot. Stupidly hot.
He swallowed hard, shifting slightly on the examination table and almost cringing at the crinkly noise the paper made once again.
“Uh, all good,” he replied, clearing his throat.
“I’m Doctor Piastri, but you can call me Oscar, if you’d like. Whatever you’re comfortable with. It’s nice to meet you,” he said with a smile, sticking his hands into the pockets of the white jacket he was wearing.
“...Cool. Right. You too. I haven’t, uh- I didn’t have time to finish the question thing. D’you want me to… Should I keep going, or?”
“Go ahead and finish it now, I’m going to check over your file over here, so you still have a few minutes,” he replied with a smile, walking over to the computer on the standing desk where the nurse had been earlier.
“‘Kay,” Lando breathed, looking back down at the paper and working on the last few questions. The silence in the room felt deafening, and it was much harder to focus on the task at hand when the doctor was directly in his line of sight, but at least he was serving to be a decent enough distraction from his previous anxiety.
Lando forced himself to finally check the last few boxes, kicking his feet slightly while he waited, unsure if he should tell him that he’d finished or not - not wanting to distract him from whatever he was doing.
Thankfully, after just another minute he was turning back around to Lando, grabbing the forms from him and giving them a brief once-over before setting the clipboard down on the counter. Lando’s heart immediately began racing once again as he walked back over to him, unsure at this point if it was from anxiety or just how damn close he was standing. Close enough that he could smell whatever vaguely chocolatey deodorant he seemed to have on, that he could see every perfectly placed mole and freckle on his face and neck.
“Alright, Lando. We’re gonna start with your vitals, then move onto some musculoskeletal checks. Sound good?”
Lando nodded, watching as Oscar grabbed a blood pressure cuff. The vital checks started fine, his blood pressure, body temperature and oxygen levels as normal as they’d always been.
“Go ahead and remove your shirt for me, we’ll check your heart and lungs.”
Okay, maybe not so fine.
The issue being, Lando’s heart was now racing violently in his chest at the prospect of removing his shirt in front of him. He knew it was stupid, that Oscar probably did this a dozen times a day, that it was quite literally nothing in the grand scheme of things. It had never been an problem for Lando at his previous appointments, there was no reason it should have been then. And it certainly wasn't a self confidence issue.
He took in a deep breath, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head before setting it down beside him on the examination table. Oscar’s nonchalant expression didn’t falter whatsoever as he put the stethoscope into his ears, stepping terrifyingly close into Lando’s personal space before holding the other end of it against his chest.
Oscar’s brows furrowed for just a second before moving it to a couple different positions, staying dead silent while he did.
“Take a deep breath in for me.”
Lando tried to ignore the way his stomach flipped at the direct instruction, forcing himself to inhale deeply through his nose.
“And out. Good job.”
He did as he was told, his eyes trained to the wall across from him as he exhaled slowly out of his mouth. After that, Oscar pulled the stethoscope away, gently taking Lando’s shoulders to maneuver him slightly before putting the cold metal onto his back instead.
“Again, deep breath in.”
Another inhale.
“…And out.”
Exhale.
“Perfect.”
There was absolutely no way in hell he was going to get any accurate readings on any of this given the way Lando could feel his body practically go into panic from the consistent praise.
Finally, Oscar stepped back around to properly face him again, taking the stethoscope out of his ears.
“Your heart rate is a lot higher than I’d like it to be, Lando. You marked ‘rarely’ on the form for anxiety, is it more medical specific?” He asked, taking Lando’s wrist and prodding his fingers around his pulse for a moment.
Lando swallowed hard, nodding, grateful that he at least had that as an out.
“Mmhm. I monitor my heart with my watch, ‘s always fine, I just- I get nervous with this stuff.”
“Alright. We might check it again in a bit to get a more accurate reading.” Oscar went quiet again as he kept his fingers firmly over the pulse on Lando’s wrist, looking up at the clock on the wall.
Lando inadvertently stared down at Oscar’s hand, chewing hard on the inside of his cheek. Having to will himself to not get hard at some casual, clinical touching was far from how he’d anticipated his day going today, but Jesus his hands were attractive.
After what felt like the longest minute of his life, Oscar let go of his wrist again, putting the stethoscope back into his ears.
“Go ahead and lay down, I’m going to check your abdomen and then we’ll move on.”
Lando nearly short circuited, not moving for a second too long before finally complying and laying down with his arms at his sides, keeping his eyes locked onto the stark white ceiling above him.
“Try to relax for me, just keep taking deep breaths and tell me if it hurts anywhere I press.”
Lando nodded, disregarding how relaxing right then would absolutely be an impossible task. He focused hard on continuing to breathe normally while Oscar used three fingers to press firmly and methodically against different areas of his stomach, too far down to not overthink wildly about it.
“You’re doing great. Still no pain?”
Lando’s fingers twitched at his sides. “...None.”
After another few moments, Oscar stepped back away, giving space for Lando to finally feel like he could breathe a bit more normally. At that point, he almost wished that he’d been with someone boring and old and anxiety inducing, because at least he wouldn’t be as terrified of getting hard in front of a goddamn doctor who was simply doing his job.
Oscar had him stand back up after that, guiding him through several different movements and positions. He occasionally circled around Lando in a way that made him damn near feel like prey, closely observing his range of motion, still consistently giving casual, mind-numbing praise every so often.
“Go ahead and touch your toes.”
Jesus fucking christ.
Lando exhaled sharply before tentatively bending over, touching his fingers to his toes and pretending he couldn’t feel Oscar’s eyes closely tracking his every movement, raking over his body.
“Your flexibility is excellent. Hold there for me for a minute.”
Half convinced he might pass out, Lando did as he was told, nearly flinching when he felt Oscar press his fingers against a couple areas of his spine and scapulas, having to stifle a noise that threatened to leave his throat. As much as he’d been trying to avoid it, his cock was unhelpfully starting to twitch under his boxers. He was fighting a losing battle with the constant praise, the compromising positions, just the fucking sight of Oscar. It was all too much.
“Good job, Lando. Back up.”
Suddenly wanting to do anything except stand up straight in fear of Oscar seeing that he was actually starting to get a bit hard now, Lando reluctantly straightened himself back up to a standing position, linking his hands together as casually as he could in front of his shorts while Oscar typed a few quick notes into the laptop.
“Your muscles are a bit tighter on your left side than your right,” he said quietly, continuing to type while he spoke, his eyes not leaving the computer.
“What?” Lando asked, blinking over at him - unable to tell if that was something he was supposed to respond to or not.
“Nothing serious. Have you changed something in your training plan recently?”
Something about how observant and capable Oscar seemed, how insanely smart he was, was giving Lando an entirely different cause to spiral. He’d never found anything like that particularly attractive before, but now it felt world ending.
“...Uh, yeah, a bit. I’ll mention it to Jon.”
Oscar didn’t say anything for another couple moments before turning back around to him again.
“Okay, so,” he began, clapping his hands together. “Everything’s looking good so far. I’ve one more thing on my list here before I send you over for bloodwork. Have you had a prostate exam before?”
Lando nearly choked on his own spit, his eyes going wide as he coughed violently a couple times.
“Sorry?”
“I don’t expect you would have, given your age, but McLaren’s adopted a heavier emphasis on preventative screenings for their assessments this year. Is that something you’re comfortable with?”
Lando’s jaw fell slack for a moment as he stared over at Oscar incredulously, unable to fix his face into anything close to neutral for an embarrassing amount of time.
“I-I don’t- Um, no, I haven’t. That’s-” Lando cleared his throat again, trying to will his face to return back to what he hoped to be a normal colour considering how incredibly hot he felt all of a sudden. “That’s fine. All good.”
Definitely not all good. So, incredibly, unbelievably far from all good.
“Perfect. I’m going to step out for a couple minutes, if you could go ahead and undress for me and lay back down,” Oscar replied casually, smiling over at Lando like he wasn’t genuinely about to collapse onto the floor.
He didn’t even have time to say anything before Oscar was opening the door to leave again. The room felt terribly quiet all of a sudden, bar the loud, violent thumping of Lando’s own pulse in his ears. There was absolutely no way this was real. He’d just met easily the hottest person he’d ever seen, he was already half hard at how he was being talked to throughout a stupid appointment, and the guy was about to have a goddamn finger up his ass.
Lando’s shorts were now considerably tighter than they were a few minutes ago.
After doing his absolute best to pull himself together for a moment, Lando finally pulled down his shorts, balling them up and setting them beside his t-shirt. It took longer to get himself to step out of his boxers, but he immediately did once he realized it would be significantly more embarrassing if the doctor walked back in while he was still in the middle of undressing.
Being fully naked in the small, sterile room felt incredibly wrong, the cold air hitting his skin harshly. He had no idea how to position himself, either. Laying down on his stomach felt wrong, he wasn’t getting a damn massage, but nothing else seemed to feel fully right either. He eventually settled on his side, facing the wall opposite the door.
Lando’s mind raced relentlessly while he waited for Oscar to come back in, his heart pounding so hard he was half convinced it would jump out of his throat.
After what he wasn’t sure was thirty seconds or five minutes, the door finally opened again, and Lando physically flinched at the sudden sound.
Oscar didn’t say anything for a brief moment, but he could hear a drawer being opened and a vague rustling.
“All ready then, Lando?”
Yes. Yes. No, I’m embarrassed. Yes. Please.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Lando nodded, forcing out an, “mmhm,” before shifting just barely on the examination table. The now familiar paper crinkle underneath him sounded suddenly much louder than it had before.
“Perfect.”
Lando could make out the distinct noise of rubber gloves being snapped on behind him, the sound of it making his cock twitch again unhelpfully. Even though he was facing away from Oscar, he was terrified that he’d still be able to see entirely too much with how he would be standing above him .
Maybe some small, sick part of Lando wanted him to, though.
“I’m just going to apply some gel to my finger, it might be a bit cold. Just relax, yeah? Nothing to worry about.”
Oscar’s tone sounded softer than it had before, more coaxing. It nearly sent a damn shiver down Lando’s spine. He took in a slightly shaky breath, nodding, his whole body feeling like a live wire. When Oscar touched him he immediately flinched again, even though it was just gentle pressure on the back of his knee.
“Bring your knees up to your chest for me,” he added quietly.
Lando did so, the position feeling far more vulnerable than it had before. He had no fucking idea why he was feeling so strongly about all of this - he’d had sex with loads of men before, the idea of this was nothing new, nor was the vulnerability - he supposed it boiled to to something about the difference in power dynamics, the near shame and guilt he felt about being so turned on by something that he wasn’t supposed to be.
That, and still how unbearably hot Oscar was.
Lando suddenly felt a gloved hand come to rest on his hip, his breath catching in his throat while his body tensed up in anticipation.
“Relax, Lando. It’s okay, it’ll be over before you know it. Promise. Take a deep breath, yeah? You’re just gonna feel some pressure.”
Doing his absolute best to get his body to relax, Lando nodded again, inhaling deeply through his nose. As he slowly began to breathe out with his eyes squeezed shut, a choked back noise left his throat involuntarily when he felt Oscar begin to carefully press a lubed finger into him. The same long, delicate fingers that had been wrapped firmly around his wrist just a bit ago. Lando’s face went red from embarrassment immediately, simultaneously horrified at the sound he’d made as well as the prospect of precome leaking onto the sheet beneath him.
“Just breathe through it, Lando. It’ll be more comfortable,” Oscar added, unhelpfully, as he slowly pushed his finger in deeper.
The problem wasn’t his damn comfortability, it was that he wanted nothing more than Oscar’s cock in him right then instead.
But he forced himself to take in another shaky, deep breath regardless, his hips twitching slightly when Oscar began to move his finger around. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Oscar watching him - the knowledge that he was observing him so closely in this state could have driven Lando mad.
After a few more moments of labored breathing, sure at that stage that he was definitely making a bit of a mess on the examination table, Oscar moved his finger again, and-
“Oh, fuck.”
The words left Lando unbidden, breathy and broken, immediately biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Oscar paused his movements immediately, his finger just barely grazing his prostate still, and Lando had to focus every cell in his body to not immediately have what would surely be the most mortifying orgasm of his life.
“Everything okay, Lando? Does that hurt?” Oscar practically cooed, punching another sharp breath from Lando’s lungs. He shook his head jerkily, one of his hands balling into a tight fist.
“No, I- I’m sorry, I’m okay, just one sec, I just needta- Hold on,” he stammered, his abdomen tightening dangerously. Something about Oscar asking that though, or maybe just the way he’d asked it, had Lando partially convinced that he could see right through him.
Oscar hummed softly in acknowledgement, his finger still unmoving while Lando’s chest heaved slightly.
“That’s okay, we’re in no rush. I know it can be a lot. You’re doing great.”
The faint taste of iron hit Lando’s tongue when he bit down hard onto his bottom lip again to stifle another noise, but the pain of his skin breaking didn’t even come close to registering. He wasn’t entirely sure if Oscar was fully aware of what was happening or not, his reactions - or lack thereof - too ambiguous to pick up on what was going on inside his head.
“Y’can keep going,” he finally breathed after a moment, when he was at least slightly convinced he wasn’t about to be thrown immediately over the edge, but the words came out sounding far needier than he’d intended. He was far past the point of embarrassment though at that stage; he’d made enough of a fool of himself already.
Oscar, for reasons that Lando couldn’t decipher, didn’t move his finger at Lando’s assurance. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move a muscle, for long enough that Lando pried his eyes back open to reluctantly look back up at him in confusion, flushed and still breathing heavily.
Oscar’s expression was still painfully unreadable as they held eye contact, but he finally spoke up again.
“I just need to double-check something. I’ll be able to get a better assessment if I use a second finger, if that's okay with you,” he said quietly, his tone still impossibly measured and clinical.
Lando’s heart could have beat out of his chest.
He didn’t know a lot about medical practices, let alone prostate exams specifically, but Lando was… Pretty sure that wasn’t necessary. He didn’t know enough to say for certain, to prove his theory wrong, but what he did know was that he absolutely wanted more.
“Okay, yeah, you-” He choked out in response while he turned his head back away from him, adding a barely audible, “please,” under his breath.
Oscar didn’t reply this time, carefully pulling his finger out and taking his other hand off of Lando’s hip. He took in a deep breath, hearing the pop of what he assumed to be the cap of whatever medical standard lube Oscar was using. After just another few seconds, Oscar’s hand returned to his hip, the other trailing two fingers gently over his entrance to give him time to brace before he slowly, gently began pressing them back inside him. Another stifled sound left Lando immediately, his untouched cock aching at that stage, desperate for contact but not daring to do anything about it.
“There you go. Just like that, Lando,” he murmured, not commenting whatsoever on how Lando’s hips were rocking just barely back against him, how his breaths came more laboured, how his body shifted unconsciously to open his legs slightly further.
Once his fingers were all the way in, Lando was finding it hard not to fully squirm on the examination table, his eyes still squeezed shut while he adjusted to the feeling.
When Oscar began curling his fingers this time though, knowing exactly how and where to move them to find the right spot inside him, Lando wasn’t able to hold back the high, breathy moan that left him. The shame and guilt of his actions hit him simultaneously, but Oscar remained as composed as ever, slowly and methodically stroking his fingers over his prostate.
“You’re almost done Lando, keep breathing through it for me.”
Lando didn’t have any time to prepare before he was suddenly, violently pushed over the edge; his vision whiting out momentarily with a muffled cry as he came hard over the examination table, his hips jutting back against Oscar’s fingers.
As quickly as it had happened, the humiliation and shame washed over him just as fast and hard, his face flushing redder than it likely ever had before while his body stilled. The room fell silent bar the jagged, unsteady sounds of his breathing. Lando didn’t dare open his eyes, choking back a wince when Oscar finally, carefully pulled his fingers out - praying that if he pretended hard enough that that hadn’t actually just happened, then Oscar wouldn’t acknowledge it either. The sound of rubber gloves being snapped off seemed to echo far too loudly in the room.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. Perfectly natural, happens to the best of us.”
The words hit Lando like a punch to the gut.
Being called out on what had happened so plainly, immediate proof that it had been real, that Oscar had seen all of it, that there was no hiding or covering it up, made Lando want to disappear completely into the stupid, crinkly paper that was now sticking uncomfortably to his skin from a devastating mix of sweat and come.
“I’m- Fuck, I’m so sorry, Jesus, I am so so sorry, I’m gonna- I’ll-”
What, go? Walk out of the office and into the MTC lobby buck naked?
Lando immediately started making mental plans to flee the country, probably quit McLaren, maybe join witness protection. But before his thoughts could spiral any further, he felt an ungloved hand return to his hip, Oscar’s thumb stroking over the bare skin there.
“Lando. You’re okay. You did so good. I’m gonna go order your blood tests, go ahead and get dressed and clean yourself up. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”
Exhaling a shaky breath, Lando forced himself to nod. Somehow, Oscar’s patience and understanding only made the entire thing feel more devastating.
And yet, through all the mortification, he was still helplessly turned on about all of it.
Oscar gave a gentle pat to his hip before exiting the room, leaving Lando laying unmoving in his own mess until the footsteps sounded far away enough to risk sitting up. Finally looking down at the examination table, a shudder ran through Lando’s body at the undeniable proof of what had just happened. He also noticed that Oscar must have placed a container or wet wipes on the bed beside him while he was too caught up in everything, immediately grabbing a couple and wiping himself down before discarding them into the bin in the corner of the room. Stupidly, he also attempted to wipe down the cover on the examination table, but it only made his efforts seem more obvious with the large, wet marks the wipes left over the paper.
With a soft, defeated noise, Lando finally began dressing himself again, sitting himself back down properly on the table in the same position he’d been in when Oscar first arrived, his feet kicking slightly with the same - if not worse - anxiety that he’d walked into the MTC with that morning.
Oscar arrived back a few long minutes later, the same casual smile on his face as if nothing had happened whatsoever. Like this was any other Tuesday, like Lando hadn’t just had his entire world split in two.
“Well, Lando, you seem to be in great health. I’ve ordered your blood tests, so whenever you’re ready, you can head down the hall to the left - there’ll be a nurse waiting for you in room 114. Great job today.”
Lando blinked over at him like he was speaking a foreign language, his mouth hanging open a bit while he tried desperately to get his brain to catch up to the situation at hand.
“...Right. Okay. Uh- Thanks,” he choked out, his legs feeling like jelly when he stepped back down onto the floor. But before he could exit the room, Oscar was gently placing a hand on his arm, and Lando stopped in his tracks with slightly wide eyes.
“One more thing,” Oscar started, holding out a small square of paper to him. “My business card. If you have any questions about your test results, or… Anything else that comes to mind.”
Lando stared down at the card before finally grabbing it, his mouth going dry when he saw a second phone number handwritten on it in blue ink. Proof that he wasn’t crazy, proof that Oscar had wanted this at least somewhat as badly as he had.
Proof that it could happen again.
“Thank you,” Lando forced out after a moment, sticking the paper safely into the pocket of his hoodie before walking towards the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
He was already planning whatever mystery illness would serve as an excuse to see Oscar again.
The blood tests were far easier to cope with than they’d ever been before for Lando, his mind far too preoccupied with trying to process everything that had happened beforehand to even notice the needle going in. His time in the MTC was over before he knew it, the only thing left being for Max to drive him to the offsite clinic to get his full body scans done. The fresh air when he stepped back outside was more of a relief than he could have possibly imagined; Lando had never in his life been more grateful for the cold, harsh Woking air.
As promised, Max’s car was waiting in the lot, the engine already running when he spotted Lando and gave him a wave through the window. Lando couldn’t bring himself to smile back as he opened the door and sat into the passenger seat, still feeling entirely too flustered to put on any kind of façade. Max seemed to pick up on his mood right away - he’d always been good at that, even if Lando might have been particularly obvious about it right then - looking over at him with a pitiful expression.
“That bad, huh?” He asked, clapping Lando’s shoulder.
“Uh- Like, no? Or, yes, but not- It was, um, I dunno how to-” He blabbered, staring ahead at the dashboard while he tried to work out his feelings on the day in real time.
Because, no, it wasn't bad. That was the entire problem. The only bad part had been the humiliation of it all, but Oscar hadn’t even seemed bothered about it. Jesus, he’d given Lando his fucking phone number after the fact.
Max’s expression contorted into something far more confused, desperately trying to figure out what the hell could have possibly happened to have Lando reacting in this way. He’d driven him to and from doctors appointments before, he’d seen pretty much the entire spectrum of Lando’s emotions, but this was entirely unprecedented.
“Mate, the fuck? Use real words. You don’t sound like a human. You good?”
“He- Fuck, he gave me a prostate exam, and I was already kind hard because he was so frickin’ hot, mate, and then- Like, I don’t even know what happened, like, he just kept going, and I- Like, I just kinda came, but then he gave me his phone number, and I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he rushed out, the words melting together slightly in his panicked response, still staring straight ahead.
Max’s jaw dropped, deemed speechless for a long moment before letting out a loud bark of disbelieving laughter.
“Right. Good one, Bob. Let’s get your scans done before you lose your shit more than you already have,” he finally replied after a moment, buckling himself back in with a shake of his head.
Lando simply looked over at him with a contorted expression, not laughing back whatsoever. The lack of response had Max immediately looking back over, far more in shock than he’d been initially.
“You’re havin’ a laugh.”
Lando, again, didn’t respond.
Saying it all out loud immediately forced him to confront how absolutely bizarre the situation was, that it had been real, that he wasn’t still stuck in the weirdest wet dream of his life.
“...Is this something I should be calling Zak about, or…?” Max added slowly, clearly trying to gauge the situation still before he let the amusement crack that was obviously building behind his expression.
“I swear to god Max, if you tell a single person I ever said any of this, I’ll have your frickin’ head on a stick,” he snapped back immediately, turning to look at him with a sharp glare. “No. I’m- Like, I think I’m actually in love with this guy. Christ, you should’ve- Oh my god, his eyes, mate. His voice, I just-”
“You’re fuckin’ mental!” Max screeched immediately, letting out another loud, incredulous laugh before hitting the steering wheel hard enough that he accidentally honked the horn. “Mate, you’ve genuinely lost it. Fuck the physical, you need a psych. You came at the fuckin’ doctor’s office and now you’re telling me you’re in love with the bloke?!”
Lando smacked his arm immediately, hard, earning a hiss in response from Max at the impact.
“Oi, I don’t wanna hear it, piss off. You didn’t see him, you don’t get it,” he groaned, burying his head into his hands for a moment. Max, still slightly speechless, put the car into drive with a deep breath while he shook his head.
“Well, you’re gonna be late for your next appointment soon, so you’ll have time to get over the guy on the way there. Try not to fall in love with this one too, yeah?”
Lando rolled his eyes as he sat back in the seat, pulling the business card out of his pocket like he needed proof that he still hadn’t actually made all this up. He fidgeted with it in his hand for a few moments, eyes trained on the numbers scribbled onto the front.
His back was already starting to feel mysteriously sore.