First written on ao3, now also here :) STILL GOING!!!! Setting: A small UK school in 1996. Photography club, darkrooms, grey skies, hallways buzzing with Walkmans and corded phones at home. Lando and Oscar are in their final year. Oscar Piastri is the quiet, but confident, observant lead of the school's photography club, always behind the camera, rarely in front of it. Lando Norris is loud, unpredictable, and sentenced to the club for detention hours. He mocks it at first-until it starts becoming his favorite subject. As they develop film together in the red-lit darkroom, Lando sees himself through Oscar's lens: softer, more human.

Oscar Piastri was never supposed to matter. Quiet. Precise. Sharp. He moved through the world like a straight line-disciplined, steady, predictable. He didn't chase anyone. He didn't flirt. He didn't smile unless necessary. And yet, he kept finding Lando. A chocolate bar left on a desk. A sticky note in looping handwriting. A soft voice beside Lando's ear. "This is for you. Eat, please." Lando hated it. Hated the way Oscar seemed to anticipate his next move. Hated the hand that appeared just to shield him from bumping into corners. Hated the look in Oscar's eyes-slow, deliberate, almost gentle. One afternoon, under a sunlit tree, Oscar said, "Your star hairclip suits you. You look cute today." No one had ever watched Lando that closely. No one had seen past the showmanship, past the bravado. He pulled away. Snapped. Ran. Heart pounding, throat tight. And Oscar? He stayed. Patient. Quiet. Collecting the pieces of Lando's chaos like it was natural. The strangest thing, when others got too close to Oscar, Lando stiffened. His tone sharpened. "Why him? He doesn't even look at you properly." Oscar's voice was soft, patient. "Lando, why do you care?" "I... I don't. Just forget it," Lando muttered, looking away. He didn't care. But Oscar kept choosing him. In small ways, unnoticed ways, the kind that made Lando's chest tighten. If Oscar was pretending, Lando's heart might not survive. But if he wasn't, then maybe Lando was already falling. Hard. And he wasn't sure he wanted to stop.

Lando Norris isn't dying. That's what he keeps telling himself. He's just-tired. Too tired. The kind of tired that makes your hands tremble when you paint, that makes your world fade to white under fluorescent light. When he collapses in the middle of the street, it should've just been another headline: Campus art boy passes out, again. But that day, someone caught him-literally. A photography major with shaking hands and a camera still strapped to his neck. Oscar Piastri didn't mean to care. But he did. They meet again, the sunlight from the tall panes framed him in soft gold-Lando slumped over a desk, heartbeat uneven, breath too shallow. Oscar's voice cuts through the silence. "Sleep well." And somehow, Lando listens. He shouldn't feel anything. Not this warmth blooming in his chest. Not this quiet safety whenever Oscar looks at him like he's not fragile. "Why do you keep helping me?" Lando asks one day, voice cracking between guilt and hope. Oscar shrugs, eyes soft. "Because you keep falling." Then there's George-best friend, chaos incarnate-who would fight the whole hospital if he could. Feeling Max's quiet stare on him, George yanks Lando up to use him as a shield. "What?! You wanna fight, huh?!" His little fists tremble inside his cardigan sleeves. Max doesn't even blink. "Try me," the doctor deadpans, flipping a chart. Between sleepless nights, half-drunk cups of coffee, and the hum of a heart that beats too fast for its own good, Lando begins to draw again. And maybe-just maybe-he's learning how to live again, too. Because this time, when Oscar offers his hand, Lando doesn't pull away. a slow heartbeat turning into melody. a story about falling, again and again, and choosing to stay.

"I didn't hear a thing," Lando had said. Oscar walked back to his apartment, the words on loop in his head. "It must've been the wind." or: a landoscar fic inspired by the song 'must've been the wind' by alec benjamin

--- Lando Norris wakes up from a year-long coma with no memory of the love story that changed his life. He remembers Oscar Piastri as a rival. A teammate. Nothing more. Not the secret glances. Not the whispered I love yous. Not the marriage. Not the night he promised forever. Now, Oscar stands by his side-husband, stranger, and the man Lando unknowingly gave his whole heart to. But how do you fight for someone who doesn't remember loving you? How do you make someone fall in love with you again, when every memory of "us" is gone? In a story filled with heartbreak, healing, and second chances, The Second First Time takes you through the slow burn of re-falling in love, the weight of forgotten vows, and the aching beauty of choosing each other-even when the past is lost. Because sometimes, the heart remembers what the mind forgets. ---

Description: What happens when the entire F1 grid starts shipping Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri? 🤨🔥 A simple group chat turns into pure chaos as the drivers analyze every glance, every touch, and every accidental matching outfit. From stolen hoodies to suspicious hand placements-nothing goes unnoticed. Will Landoscar survive the teasing, or will the paddock manifest them into reality? 👀💬🏎️ #TeammatesToSoulmates #Landoscar #McLarenChaos