Chapter Text
Oscar is Spiderman.
Spiderman is his best friend, Oscar, who carries Lando’s bag through uni when he gets tired and comes over every Wednesday to cook for him.
Spiderman is the same person who has to be coaxed to the dancefloor when they are out, the same person who patiently endures George’s ted talks about his latest business classes and who never forgets the name of Alex’s many pets.
Oscar is Spiderman, the masked superhero swinging through New York on the daily, fighting thieves and robbers and creatures with physical features Lando can't even comprehend until they are listed in the newspaper the next day.
Oscar is Spiderman and that's the reason why he’s so fucking busy all the time, why he always looks a little dishevelled, declines Landos going-out invitations more often than not and why he never sleeps over, not even on Wednesday nights.
In the morning rays of the sun, Lando’s mind is running in circles, filling in the gaps of the last three years while Oscar - Spiderman - is slumped over his lap still asleep on the couch.
It all makes sense now, in a way.
Why Oscar is attentive, gentle and supporting the one minute and blows Landos plans off the next, arriving late to their meetups or suddenly disappears during events, only to show up to university the next day like nothing happened.
Naturally, he had assumed Oscar went home on these occasions and not…this.
Lando was hurt a few times about it in the beginning, but ended up pushing it away, reasoning that Oscar’s social battery was significantly lower than his, that he generally needed more space, and that he always came back to Lando.
He had defended Oscar to his friends, who were skeptical about him at first, calling Oscar hard to read and secretive.That was, of course, until Lando had properly introduced them to each other and they saw the quiet and easy way Oscar fit around Lando’s loud life.
Now, Max sometimes texts Oscar instead of Lando, even when it concerns him, claiming that “he knows you better than you yourself, Lando.”
(It’s not Lando’s fault the food options at the nearby Thai bistro change every month and he sometimes takes too long to figure out what he wants. He doesn’t know how Oscar always gets it right when he decides for him as well.)
Lando swallows. Maybe that's not an Oscar thing. Maybe that's a Spiderman thing.
Until yesterday, Lando would have told everyone who wanted to hear it that he knew Oscar in and out, but now?
How much does he actually know about the man he saw as his best friend, and what is made up, changed, altered so that Lando would be gullible enough to believe the version Oscar presented to him on the daily?
What else did Oscar keep from him, how much did he hide day in and day out and how many times did he look Lando in the eyes to lie to him in the next sentence?
That uncertainty is somehow even worse than knowing Oscar kept this mind boggling, life changing secret from him. Lando feels sick to his stomach thinking about both.
“Hhnng.”
Lando's eyes snap down.
Oscar is stirring, eyes dazedly blinking against the early morning sun, his mouth immediately stretching into a grimace, hand shooting up to his side when he moves.
“Hey.” Lando says, unsure and low. He hates it. He never felt unsure around Oscar.
The sound startles the younger, eyes blinking faster and then Oscar removes his body from Lando’s legs in an instant.
It’s a bit too fast to be normal, the way he goes from slouching half asleep to an upright position, a good half meter between them on the couch.
With the way Oscar groans and presses his eyes shut immediately, he must agree.
“Fuck.” he curses, low and hurt, clutching his ribs.
Lando can only stare.
Oscar looks uncharacteristically soft in Lando’s worn out sleeping shirt and messy hair, yet so familiar. How many times has he sat there, talking to Lando on this same exact couch? How many times has he lied about what he told him?
Awake, Oscar seems to be equally as talkative as in his sleep. He just stares back at Lando, prying open his left eye which seems to have swollen down significantly through the night.
“Your face.” Lando gasps involuntarily when he takes a closer look.
The ugly purple bruise on Oscar’s cheek has tripled down in size, a shadow of yesterday's damage . It’s…eerie.
“It’s - almost healed up.”
Lando whispers, for some reason. Maybe it feels too crazy to say out loud. Too incriminating.
Your face restored itself unnaturally quickly, Oscar. Because you're Spiderman. When did you want to tell me that you’re fucking Spiderman, Oscar? What else did you keep from me?
Oscar carefully reaches up, touching his cheek, then he nods. “It’s not a big deal. Minor injuries usually only take a few hours.”
He says it easily, calmly, and something inside Lando snaps.
“Oh, of course! It’s not a big deal.” A bitter laugh makes its way past his gritted teeth. “We’re classifying getting your brain knocked out as minor injuries, now. Sure. No biggie."
Oscar is frozen where he sits, eyeing Lando nervously.
“But what do I know?” Lando continues, feeling the anger building up inside him. He is vaguely aware his voice has grown louder and louder with each sentence. “Clearly, I have no fucking idea about anything because I DIDN’T HAVE A SINGLE CLUE ABOUT HALF YOUR LIFE.”
He’s on his feet now, must have jumped up between shouting and gesticulating with his arms.
“BUT OF COURSE THAT DOESN’T MATTER BECAUSE YOU’RE HEALING SO NICELY, IT’S NOT EVEN A BIG DEAL! RIGHT? YOU SHOWING UP AT MY DOORSTEP LATE AT NIGHT LOOKING LIKE YOU’RE FUCKING DYING IS NOT A BIG DEAL BECAUSE YOU’RE A FUCKING SUPERHERO AND YOU HAVE MAGICAL SUPERHEALING AND ALL THAT SHIT AND ITS REALLY NO BIG DEAL AT ALL!”
Lando isn’t a big shouter, normally. Sure, he’s quick to complain and even quicker to rile his friends up and he can, admittedly, be a bit of a drama queen.
But he’s always easily calmed down, forgives fast, and always ready to pull out his puppy dog eyes and charm himself out of every situation.
It's safe to say his neighbours have never heard him yell at this level before.
“IF IT’S ALL NO BIG DEAL THEN TELL ME WHY I HAD TO PULL OUT A FUCKING CLAW FROM YOUR CHEST, OSCAR? OR DO YOU PREFER SPIDERMAN?”
Oscar actually flinches at that. It gives Lando a strange dose of satisfaction.
“Lando, please-”
“Don’t fucking ‘please Lando’ me.” he hisses, restlessly pacing. He’s so fucking angry at Oscar’s nonchalance, the way it all fits better the more Lando thinks about their shared past. Just how stupid had he been?
“I’m sorry.” Oscar starts again carefully, clearly stressed by Lando’s rough dismissal. “I didn’t know where else to go, I can usually handle it on my own - I was going to handle it on my own, I was almost done. But halfway home the healing still didn’t set in and it only got worse and then I realised I must have missed something and I knew I wasn't going to make it to my apartment-”
“So you decided, mhm, that Lando guy usually eats up my lies. Let's see if he's good for a little sleepover too?!”
“What? Lando-”
“Because clearly you had no intention of ever telling me, what, after three years spending like - every day together? But when I’m fucking convenient-”
“You’re not convenient.” Oscar interrupts. He’s breathing a little faster now, like Lando’s rage has enlightened something in him, too. “Lando, I never, ever thought about you like-”
“Oh, that is obvious! You never thought of me as an actual friend, did you? Because I thought - it was stupid really - but I thought you were my best friend. Turns out you lied to me every single day! Newsflash! That’s not what friends do!”
“You are! You are my best friend Lando.” Oscar pleads, eyes wide and voice shakier than Lando has ever heard him without a metal claw stuck in his ribs.
“I wish I could trust this.” Lando whispers back, anger suddenly punched out of him and replaced with that heavy, uncomfortable feeling in his stomach that makes him want to throw up.
Oscar stares up at him, looking desperate and helpless.
He has chocolate brown eyes, honey when the sun hits them. For three years, Lando has put all his trust in them. Now, he knows they look the exact same when lying day in and out.
It’s the worst Lando has ever felt in his life.
“I’m going for a walk.” He says. “I need some space.”
He needs to leave, create some distance between them. He can't look at Oscar the same, can’t make up his mind about how he feels having him around when he isn’t who Lando thought he was. Oscar is…everything to him, how could he-
“Don’t go!” Oscar gasps when Lando turns towards the door. “Lando, please, I’m sorry, we can talk about this just don’t go-”
There is a shuffle behind him, too loud to ignore.
When Lando turns, hand already on the door knob, Oscar has stood up. He is taking wobbly steps towards him, a fearful expression engraved on his face.
“Lando, listen, ask me anything - anything - I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just please, please don’t-”
In the midst of Oscar’s frantic rambling and uneasy steps, his shirt catches onto his side and a small red dot grows bigger.
“Lando, can you-” Oscar is close now, close enough that Lando can see his lashes. They are wet. “I swear Lando, I’m gonna-”
“You’re bleeding again.” Lando realises, says it out loud because it overrides his other thoughts immediately.
“I- what?” Oscar is thrown off, looking down his chest, before he finds Lando’s eyes again. “Lando, please let me explain-”
“Oscar, you’re bleeding.” Lando cuts him off, louder. He catches Oscar’s arms with his own, carefully walking him back. Yesterday’s picture of Oscar’s pained expression and the blood running through his fingers flash in his mind. Panic bubbles up his throat. “You can’t – fucking - walk around like that. Sit down.”
Oscar obeys, a little pale again. Lando isn't sure if it's the blood or their fight.
“Lando, I-“
“Shut up.” Lando breathes out, no heat behind it. His heart is hammering, way too fast. He needs quiet – air – to get away- to stay and make sure -
“But-“
“Oscar, I swear to god If you don’t give me two seconds right now I’m going to-“ Lando isn’t sure what he’d do, but it doesn’t matter when his throat is so tight he has to focus on taking another breath anyway.
Just one breath, and another and another. If he doesn’t look into Oscar’s wide, anxious eyes and just focuses on one point on the wall he’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.
At least Oscar stays quiet now, clearly staring at Lando but not trying to start the conversation up again. Conversation, hah. Putting it lightly.
Just yesterday his biggest problem was his framework essay and choosing between his outfits for the club. How did it all turn around so quickly?
For a second, Lando has the overwhelming urge to be with his friends, sit next to Alex in the cafeteria, watch George and Max bicker over something or joke around with Charles. It would be easy, comfortable and familiar. It would all be fine there, until, of course, it wouldn’t because someone would ask about Oscar and they’d all look at Lando who they’d expect to know all the answers on this particular topic. It always comes down to Oscar, all of it.
He sighs, putting his face in his hands. “Goddamnit, Oscar.”
“I’m so sorry.” Oscar says and his voice is oddly chocked up. It gets Lando to look up.
There are tears rolling down Oscar's face now, his lips shaking in an attempt not to make a sound. It’s the second time Lando has seen him cry in the past however many hours and he would lie if it didn't tug on his heartstrings just as much.
“I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you - I wanted to tell you all of the time. I had to hold myself back like, every day.” Oscar snivels.
“Then why didn’t you, Oscar? You know I would have never told anyone. I’d never betray you like this.”
Lando had always trusted Oscar with his life, had introduced him to his friends, his family, and always kept him around, nothing too big or small to share.
It’s the first time Lando had felt this way about a friend, generally tending to play down his feelings. George had even mentioned it to him, in the second year of uni. He told Lando how rare it was to see him really opening up to someone and that he is proud he let Oscar all the way in. Lando naively assumed the feeling was mutual.
Oscar shakes his head so much Lando fears he might hurt himself in the process.
“It’s not that at all. I know that, god, I never doubted you Lando, never!” Oscar isn’t yelling but his voice is raised in desperation. “It was never, ever about that I just needed to keep you safe and not telling you was the best way to protect you. I never wanted to lie to you, I tried not to but - telling you - I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because of me, do you understand?”
He is breathing heavier, now, emotions brimming over.
“I hated it, I hated every bit of it. Every time I stood you up, or had to tell you no, I hated it so much. I saw how disappointing it was for you, every single time, and I – I tried to stay away entirely I thought maybe that would be better for you, but you never – you never gave up on me and I couldn’t, I couldn’t make myself leave you. It’s selfish, I know, but I just couldn’t, Lando, not when spending time with you feels like this, not when you’re my - - god, you’re my favourite person in the world Lando, and I’m so, so sorry. ”
Oscar is borderline frantic now, and the ugly, bitter monster of insecurity and sadness in Lando ducks his head.
Oscar called him his favourite person in the world.
Despite everything, despite the confusion, the anger, the fear, the biggest part of Lando keens at the admission.
He is Oscar’s favourite person. He tried to protect Lando, not shut him out.
“Can you imagine how I’d feel if you got roped into this? If you got hurt, because of me, If someone were to put hands on you because I failed to keep this one thing to myself that only complicates everything-”
“Do you mean it?” he asks, hates the way he sounds so insecure with it, hates the way Oscar stills, eyes going wide.
“What?”
“Do you - you said I’m you’re -”
“Yeah, Lando.” Oscar interrupts, faster this time. The tears have stopped, and his eyes somehow feel even more intense when he stares at him. “Of course I mean it, I thought you knew that.”
Lando nods slowly. Then he confesses. “I - I wasn’t sure anymore. If you’re still like – the same like before. I was scared our friendship was a lie, I think.”
Oscar looks like the air has been punched out of him. “No, no - Lando, never, I never lied to you when it comes to anything - anything between us. It was just this I had to keep a secret, nothing else, I’m still the same person, I’m your friend-”
“My friend?” Lando asks, tilting his head.
“My best friend.” Oscar corrects and Lando can't help but smile a little with the way he is nodding so seriously. Oscar is kind of cute when he’s really focused, just like when he deals with a particularly nasty math problem.
Of course, he could be lying again, a small voice in Lando's head whispers but it is almost entirely wiped out by the overwhelmingly relieved gut feeling he gets when he finds nothing but sincerity in Oscar’s pretty brown eyes.
“Okay.” Lando says, tons of weight falling from his heart with every breath he takes. “Okay, I’m really glad to hear that because I’d kinda -”
He doesn’t get further because Oscar closes the gap between them, his mouth on Lando’s in the second most shocking turn of events in Lando’s life.
Oscar’s lips are warm, wet from where he was crying and still there is a tiny cut on his bottom lip, but to Lando they taste like coming home, like realising what he wanted all along.
He kisses back, and he can tell how Oscar's shoulders lose all their tension at once.
“Sorry.” Oscar says when they separate, his face just inches away from Lando’s. He is breathing quickly, a soft blush spanning over his cheeks and nose. “I didn’t want to lie anymore, at all. I don’t want to just be your best friend. I don’t only see you like that.”
There is a strange calm in Lando’s mind right now, like the final puzzle piece has clicked into place. Why he was so hurt by the prospect of Oscar shutting him out, why he was so angry with him keeping secrets. Why it was so easy to explode when his heart hasn’t stopped hammering in fear since he showed up at his doorstep.
“I was so scared.” Lando whispers into the space between them. “When I saw you like that, I nearly lost my mind. I think I focused so much on everything else to distract myself from almost losing you. I couldn’t bear it.”
Oscar catches the stray tear running down Lando’s cheek with gentle fingers. “I’m so sorry I scared you Lando. I never wanted to.”
“I’m still scared, you know? Now that I know - I don’t think I can be not scared when you’re out there fighting these things everyday, I don’t know how-”
“Hey.” Oscar's hands find his face on both sides, making him look up. “Don’t think about that right now. Right now is about us.”
Lando bites his lip, nods. But there is something else he needs to say.
“I yelled at you, so much.” He remembers Oscar's panic, the way he shook until he fell asleep. His stomach twist at the memory of stammered retellings of broken bones. “I’m so sorry, you’re clearly not alright and you told me about it and I yelled at you-”
“You didn’t know any better. The situation would be overwhelming anyone, Lando. It wasn’t fair of me to never say something and then show up like - that.”
“And I told you to never show up at my doorstep again.” Lando winces. “I always want you to find me, Oscar, I didn’t mean it like that, I don’t care if you're - Spiderman or not you can always come find me.”
“I know.” Oscar smiles, one of those soft smiles that made Lando fall in love with him years ago. How stupid had he been?
“And-”
“I know, Lando.” Oscar says and before Lando can start again, he kisses him silent.
It’s really fucking nice, kissing Oscar on the couch, kind of the greatest feeling in the world.
“We should probably call in sick today.” Oscar hums against his mouth.
“So, this is what it takes for you to skip class? I’d never thought I’d see this day.”
It’s Friday, and Lando has scheduled a party night with their friends. The club is the place furthest from his mind now though, with the way Oscar’s hands wrap around his neck.
“Are you sure we should be doing this, right now? You should probably rest some more, super healing or not.”
“The healing speeds up from physical contact.” Oscar mumbles shortly, before he goes back to kissing the corner of his mouth.
Lando feels the giggle coming up his throat before he gently pushes Oscar off. “No it does not, you liar.” he smiles.
Oscar grins back for a second before his face falls serious.
“I’m really, really sorry I lied, Lando. I promise I won’t do it again. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
Lando swallows, nods. Despite the lovesick giddiness in his chest he knows they need to have a proper conversation about a lot of things, soon.
He’s not sure he really is ready for what it’ll entail, scared to think about the details.
But it’s Oscar, and he wants every piece of him he can get. Always wanted that.
“I understand why you did it, Oscar.” Lando says. “And I trust you. I want you to tell me everything, right from the beginning.”
And Oscar does.