Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Some people in the world were hybrids, bearing animal features or instincts. That's how the world had always been.

Some were born with long fluffy tails or big floppy ears.

Oscar was born with wings. 

Not even cool, expansive wings that made him look like an angel. Just light brown plumage speckled with white feathers. His wings weren't even big enough to allow him to fly due to complications during his wing development in childhood.

So he was stuck with feathery appendages attached to his back that were honestly more trouble than they're worth.

To make matters worse, he was an F1 driver. Since keeping a person's wings trapped underneath clothing for extended periods of time can cause damage, Oscar had to have holes cut into all of his racing suits to allow his wings to be free. Then, the actual driving. If being in a cramped racing car for hours wasn't bad enough, Oscar also had to deal with the added uncomfortability of wrapping his wings around his torso so they wouldn't get in the way of his driving. 

But, the part Oscar hated the most was how disgusting his wings felt after a race.

As a bird-human hybrid, he had some of those classic bird instincts. For example, he sleeps in nests and feels extremely uncomfortable if someone moves parts of the nest or enters it without permission. He can produce small squawks and chirps. And, when his wings are dirty or messy, he knows they're dirty or messy. 

Normally, it's manageable. A slight added uncomfortability after a race that he can just deal with by taking some time away to preen himself.

But Oscar hadn't had time to preen after the qualifying and sprints, and now he was going into the main race with a looming sense of my wings are fucked up and everything is wrong and I feel so weird and I can't do this and I need to go back to my nest right now.

But, he was there, at the circuit. And he didn't really have any choice but to get in the car and at least try his best.

His best apparently being a DNF.

He was upset, of course he was. He was leading the championship, it was the most important season of his racing career so far, but he was much more focused on how bad his wings felt.

He still had so much more to do- he had to sit through media and interviews, before he could even get the chance to go back to his room.

It was hard. Stressful. Extremely difficult. His mind was screaming so loudly that he wasn't really sure if he was even forming proper sentences anymore.

But after what felt like years, he was finally let go. 

He sprinted back to his hotel and it felt like it was the fastest he had ran in his entire life.

He slipped out of his racing suit and fireproofs as soon as he entered his hotel room, throwing them somewhere in the corner of the space. He quickly pulled on a pair of underwear and shorts before collapsing into his travel nest - the nest that he always stored in his bag when he was travelling for races.

Oscar didn't like using metal tools for his preening- it always made his instincts scream in distress, so he generally just used his bare hands. Throwing an arm over his shoulder, running his fingers through his plumage and pulling out broken or dislodged feathers and pieces of dust, it was a tried and true process. But it was proving to be a lot more difficult today. He ached all over and it felt like no matter how much he cleaned and picked there was just more dirt and grime. He felt so off and everything felt so wrong. He could feel his blood boiling - not in anger but in frustration and stress. He needed to preen his wings so he could feel comfortable again, but his arms felt so tired and his head hurt so badly. Tears began to well up in his eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Through the haze of uncomfortability he swore he could hear himself making angry squawking noises.

During times when preening got too difficult for him to do alone, he had always had people there to help him. Whether it was his family, people he saw as his family, or partners. But, his family were thousands of miles away in Australia, Mark wasn't around, and he had no romantic partner to speak of. So he was left to toil in his nest, becoming more infuriated by the second.

"Oscar?" There was a short rhythm of knocks against the wooden door to his hotel room. "You in here...? You, uh- Left your door open. And I heard you... Squawking. So I wanted to check?" Lando's voice was laced with concern. Oscar wanted to speak, to at least lie to Lando to get him to go away so he can struggle alone, but all that left his throat was a pitiful chirp.

"Osc? I'm gonna feel really guilty for coming into your room if you're actually completely fine, so say something if you're okay..." After a few seconds of silence, Oscar could hear the door click shut, followed by padded footsteps against wooden floorboards of the living room, approaching the bedroom that he was currently hiding in. There was a series of short knocks again, this time against the bedroom door on the opposite side of the room to Oscar. "I'm gonna come in, okay?"

Once again, Lando gave Oscar a good 5 seconds to respond, before slowly pulling down the door handle and pushing the door open.

Oscar knew he must look absolutely pitiful. 

Shirtless, face flushed, tears welling in his eyes, hair messy, an arm stretching over his own shoulder, sitting cross-legged in what would look like a random mess of pillows and blankets.

"O-Osc...?" Lando's voice wasn't much more than a whisper.

If Oscar was in a steadier frame of mind, he would feel horrified about the fact that his teammate had seen him in one of his most vulnerable states. But, for some reason, he felt weirdly okay with having Lando there. Maybe even happy. "Lando- I..."

Hesitantly, Lando took a few steps toward Oscar, before crouching down so the two were at eye-level. "Can you tell me what's wrong, Osc? I need to know so I can help you."

"It's- my wings. I need to preen them but I can't. I can't reach and my arms hurt and everything feels so uncomfortable and I hate it and I can't do anything about it."

"Preening...? That's cleaning your wings, right?"

Oscar gave a small nod, bowing his head and looking up at Lando through his eyelashes. 

"So... Why don't I clean them for you? You'll have to guide me through it so I don't hurt you, but I wanna help." Lando's eyes were sparkling with that determination that Oscar had always found cute. But his words made Oscar's heart lurch.

Oscar knew what he should say. He should give the whole explanation about how allopreening is a very intimate thing that is generally only done by mates and flock members, but instead, the words that left his mouth were "Yes. Please..."

Lando smiled warmly, giving Oscar a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "Alright. You wanna turn around for me?"

Oscar did as Lando said, turning around so that he was facing the wall and his back was facing Lando.

"I see what you mean," Lando muttered, placing a tentative hand on Oscar's left wing. "They do look a bit scruffy. So what do I gotta do?"

"Just- be gentle." Oscar hated how his voice cracked on that final word. "Run your hands through the feathers, pick out any dirt or dead feathers you see... Just don't be too rough. Please."

"'Course, mate." With that, Lando began to gently card his fingers through Oscar's plumage. Oscar practically melted into the touch, feeling more and more relaxed by the second. Everything felt right again. He was comfortable, safe in his nest, and his wings were being cleaned, by his mate no less. Wait, what? Not his mate. His teammate. Teammate. 

Lando dutifully carried out the task he was assigned to, picking out all the grime and broken feathers with a surprising amount of care that Oscar almost wasn't expecting from someone so excitable.

It was true that Oscar had always had a crush on Lando. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone and their grandmas knew that by now. Back then, he thought he had no chance. Lando was an F1 driver and Oscar was just some kid racing for Prema.

But now, it was different.

Now, the two of them were in Oscar's hotel room, in Oscar's nest, with Lando preening Oscar's wings. His instincts didn't seem upset about Lando being in the nest- infact his instincts were over the fucking moon with happiness.

A soft chirp escaped Oscar's lips, his wings fluttering gently as Lando picked out a particularly stubborn bit of dirt. 

Oscar swore he heard Lando calling him cute under his breath, but he decided not to mention it. He was too wrapped up in the warmth coursing through his body anyway.

Lando's right hand slid down the length of Oscar's right wing, feeling around for any grime or dead feathers at the base of the limb. Oscar shivered as a groan fell from his mouth, his face flushing red again in an instant.

Lando removed his hands instantly, "Sorry, did I hurt you?"

Oscar chuckled softly, shaking his head as he mustered up the energy to speak. "No, it's just, uh. Touching the base of a bird-human hybrid's wings can... Sexually excite them."

"Oh. I see." Oscar could practically hear the smirk in Lando's voice.

Lando kept his hands away from the base of Oscar's wings from then on, making sure to give his full attention to the rest of the wing.

After what felt like ages but also not long enough, Lando pulled his hands away and leaned back. "Looks like it's done to me. How do you feel?"

Oscar almost wanted to lie. To tell Lando that he could still feel a lot of dirt in his wings, just to get Lando to touch them again. But that would be wrong. "Yeah. It feels better. Thank you, Lando."

Oscar turned to face Lando now, his eyes falling on Lando's wide, toothy grin. "That's what friends do, right?"

Friends. 

"Yeah. But still, thanks." Oscar let out a breathy laugh, turning his head to the side. He knew better than to feel hurt over a stupid crush that he'd had for years. He had already come to terms with the fact that Lando didn't like him back.

The two sat in awkward silence for a moment, before Lando hesitantly stood up and left the nest. Oscar wanted to screech in dismay, to drag him back into the nest and make him cuddle all night long, but that would be wrong.

"I guess... I'll be going then?"

Oscar wanted to ask him to stay. To tell him to stay. To beg him to say. But instead, he muttered out a quiet "...Yeah."

And just like that, with one final glance at Oscar, Lando left the hotel room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Now, it was Oscar's heart that was aching.

Chapter Text

Lando was, safe to say, very confused.

Oscar was acting different. Very different. Weirdly different.

It had only been about a week since Lando had helped Oscar out with his wing troubles, and Oscar was being odd ever since.

"Lando." Oscar appeared out of nowhere, tapping Lando on the shoulder. 

"Oh- Osc! What's up?"

Oscar grabbed Lando's hand, placing a shiny metal bottle cap in his palm. "I wanted to give you this."

Lando stared at the cap for a moment, before glancing up at Oscar, confusion evident on his face. "...Thanks?"

Oscar seemed to be happy with that response though, as a small smile appeared on his face and his wings puffed up in pride. With that, Oscar turned and walked away as quickly as he had arrived.

Lando had now gotten three different shiny metal objects from Oscar, the other two being a coin and a spoon. Lando wasn't sure why he was getting gifts from Oscar in the first place, but he especially wasn't sure why the theme of the gifts was shiny things.

Lando could admit that, being a full human, he didn't have a lot of knowledge about the behaviors of hybrids. Magpies like collecting shiny things, so maybe it's a bird-human hybrid thing...? But even so, why was he giving them to Lando?

Maybe Lando could talk to Charles, considering the man is also a bird-human hybrid like Osc.

Lando sighed, slipping the bottle cap into his pocket before pulling out his phone and sending Charles a quick text.

---------------------

Charlie

You

hey

Charlie

Hello, Lando

What do you need?

You

can we met up 2day?

meet*

i need to ask u abt some things

Charlie

Okay, sure

It is nothing bad I hope?

You

nah dw

its abt bird human hybrids

Charlie

Ahh, so it is about Oscar!

You

NO

well

yes

IT DOESNT MATTER WHO ITS ABT

Charlie

We can meet at this cafe at 6:30?

[Google Maps Link]

You

yessss plz

Charlie

See you then

---------------------

Hopefully Charles could help him figure out what the hell was going on.

But for now, he had an interview to get to.

Him and Oscar fell onto leather couch, microphones situated right infront of their faces. 

This was one of those 'live audience' interviews, which Lando knew his teammate wasn't the biggest fan of.

Oscar wasn't normally this visibly awkward though.

His leg was bouncing up and down and his hands were twitching and fiddling nervously, like how Lando's do when he's particularly anxious.

Lando sneakily placed a hand on Oscar's back, leaning into to whisper in his ear.

"You okay, Osc?"

Oscar's movement stopped instantly as he froze up, a soft trill escaping his throat. His eyes widened instantly, seemingly mortified at that sound coming out of his mouth. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

He definitely didn't sound or look fine, but Lando withdrew his hands and leaned back into his seat anyway, giving Oscar a small grin. He didn't want to seem to overbearing or anything.

Oscar's leg bouncing resumed near instantly, but his hands stayed firmly planted in his lap.

The interview went about how Lando's had expected- just answering questions about whatever the interviewers and the audience were interested in. But, it was hard to entirely focus when he kept sneaking glances over at the man sitting next to him.

"Well, that's all for today, thank you two so much for joining us here."

That felt quick. Quicker then it was meant to be. Maybe they had noticed Oscar's demeanor as well and decided to cut it early?

Lando didn't especially mind, he wasn't the biggest fan of interviews anyway, so he was happy to get going as quick as possible.

He snuck a quick glance at his wristwatch. 5:02 PM.

"Lando, I-"

Oscar was cut off by a very excited fan, shrieking as he ran up to Oscar with a pie e of paper and pen in hand.

Lando shot Oscar a sympathetic smile, along with a "Talk later, yeah?", and quickly left the area. 

He didn't really have anything to do in the hour and thirty minutes before he was scheduled to meet with Charles, so he just decided to drive around for a bit. It gave him some alone time, and some time to clear his head. Both of which he definitely needed after the long day he'd had.

The bottle cap rested heavy in Lando's pocket.