#kitty.drabbles

[utopiastri]

2,G, 𓆣 with carcar pretty please 🫶🤞🙏

2 - “what they said back there. is it true?”; G - drunkenness; 𓆣 - an alleyway behind a dive bar (hi anon! thank you for the wonderful prompt, i had so much fun playing around with this dialogue and carcar hehe 💕)

(prompt list here!)

Oscar stumbles out of the back door of the bar and finds himself in an alleyway. He groans as he hears the door swing open again behind him.

“Fuck off, Carlos.”

Carlos huffs. “You should come back inside, Oscar.”

Oscar ignores him and slides down against the wall opposite the bar to sit on the ground. The wall’s cold and he moves his head to the side so he can rest his temple against it, his face still hot from a combination of drink and embarrassment.

Carlos huffs again. “You cannot expect me to sit down out here.”

“No, I don’t, it’s almost like I don’t want you to.” Oscar’s aware he sounds a little childish, but he’s mostly too drunk to care.

Carlos scrubs a hand over his face. He crouches down next to Oscar, gently takes his chin and guides him to look him in the eye.

“Are you going to tell me why you are so annoyed at me?”

Oscar rolls his eyes. “‘m always annoyed at you. You’re an annoying person. S’like your middle name or something.”

Carlos sighs. He moves his hand from Oscar’s chin up to his hair and starts running his hand through it. Oscar both wants to lean into the touch and pull away. In the end, he settles for not moving at all.

A few minutes pass and Oscar can feel his eyelids beginning to flutter close, even with how uncomfortable sitting in this alley is rapidly becoming. He’s pretty sure he’s on the verge of nodding off when Carlos speaks again.

“Oscar,” he says quietly, “What they said back there. Is it true?”

Oscar looks up at him. He knows, if he were sober, that he’d deny it, but the alcohol seems to have loosened his tongue and he finds himself whispering, “Maybe.”

Carlos hums. Oscar stifles a whine as Carlos removes his hand from his hair and is immediately mortified. He resists as Carlos starts trying to tug him to his feet.

“Come on, Oscar,” he encourages, “Up.”

Oscar grumbles quietly, but eventually lets himself be pulled to a standing position. Carlos places both hands on either side of his face and Oscar inhales sharply.

“It is maybe true, hm?” Carlos asks.

Oscar nods dumbly.

“Well, Oscar. Perhaps I am maybe in love with you too.”

Carlos leans in closer, eyes fixed on Oscar’s mouth and Oscar finds his eyes sliding shut…

Only for Carlos to drop a light kiss on his cheek.

“I think we should have this conversation in the morning though.”

Oscar glares at him, but the smirk on Carlos’ face fills Oscar's body with heat.

[utopiastri]

9, E, 𓅫 for the prompt game pleeeeeeease!!! I’m picturing landoscar, but chase ur bliss always 🙂‍↕️💖

9 - “do you trust me?”; E - anxiety; 𓅫 - the bedside of someone who doesn’t want you there (liquid my darling!!!!!!! it's taken me forever to get to this prompt but i hope you enjoy - thank you for sending it in! 💕💕💕)

(tw: hospitals, non-graphic references to a crash and long-term injury)

(prompt list here!)

When Lando walks into the hospital room, Oscar turns his head to Mark and says, “I told you I didn’t want to see him.”

Mark holds up his hands, protesting his innocence. “I told him you didn’t want him here. It’s not my fault he doesn’t listen to anything I say.”

Lando gets the childish urge to point out that he can, in fact, hear what the two of them are saying. He doesn’t say anything though, carefully waiting to see what Oscar’s next move is.

Oscar’s next move turns out to be looking out of the window and pretending like he’s not there. Mark shoots him an apologetic look before getting to his feet and saying, “I should probably get going.”

“Wait, Mark, don’t…”

Oscar doesn't finish the sentence, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Oscar was asking not to be left alone with Lando. He starts to feel nauseous again, all of his worries about Oscar blaming him bearing down on him once more.

By the time he’s steadied himself, Mark’s long gone and Oscar’s returned to staring out the window.

Quietly, Lando asks, “How are you doing?”

“You don’t have to be here," Oscar says abruptly.

“What? I…I’m here because I want to be here, Osc.”

Oscar lets out a brief, bitter laugh. “You’re here because you feel guilty. You feel guilty about the fact that I crashed trying to defend against you and you feel guilty about the fact that I’m probably not gonna be able to race until at least summer break.”

“I don’t…that’s not…I’m not here because I feel guilty. Like, I do, obviously I feel so fucking guilty, I saw the way you went–”

“Don’t. Don’t feel guilty about something that was entirely my own,” Oscar’s voice cracks. “My own fault,” he finishes almost silently, still resolutely not looking at Lando.

“Osc,” Lando says gently.

“Like I said, you’re here because you’re guilty, but you shouldn’t feel guilty because it was my own fault and so there’s no reason for you to be here.”

“And like I said, I’m not here because I feel guilty, I’m here because I frickin’ care about you.”

For the first time since Lando stepped into the room, Oscar turns to look at him. “What?”

Lando slowly walks towards Oscar’s hospital bed and takes his hand in his, waiting for any objection from Oscar. When none come, he softly asks, “Do you trust me?”

Oscar looks at him with wide eyes and hesitates, but eventually nods slowly.

“Then trust that I’m telling you the truth, alright? I’m here because I want to be, because I care about you.”

Oscar stares at him for one more moment, searching for something, before pulling him into a desperate hug and hiding his face in Lando’s neck. When Lando feels him start to sob, he pulls him in tighter, gently squeezing the hand he’s still holding.

[utopiastri]

Can I ask for 8, N, and 𓃓, with choscar, pretty please?

Lots of love 💖🕊️

8 - “i’m taking you home, and that’s that.”; N - fondness; 𓃓 - at work, far later than you should be (hi anon!!! thank you for such a delightful prompt! 💕 please enjoy a little bit of musician charles!!!)

(prompt list here!)

Charles bangs the keys in frustration as he messes up another recording.

“Going well, huh?”

Charles winces. “Hi baby,” he says, resolutely focusing on the piano in front of him and not his boyfriend behind.

“Do you know what time it is?”

Charles hasn’t got the faintest idea what time it is. He knows he started working on this piece around 8pm and he can’t have been here that long, but clearly it’s late enough for Oscar to be pissed at him.

“Midnight?” he guesses.

Oscar sighs. “It’s 3am, Charles. I’ve been waiting for you to come home for four hours.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

Charles finally spins around in the stool to face Oscar, who’s leaning in the doorway to the studio. “I am sorry,” he says, “I got caught up in writing my new song and then I wanted to record it straight away so that I could release it sooner but then I kept hitting the wrong notes and-”

“Do you not think maybe the reason you were struggling to play the song right was because it’s, again, 3am?”

“…perhaps.”

Oscar pushes up from the wall and crosses the room to Charles. He rests his elbow on Charles’ shoulder and puts a hand in his hair, guiding Charles to rest his forehead against his stomach. Charles sighs as he lets his weight rest against Oscar, trusting him to hold him steady.

Oscar starts carding his hand through Charles’ hair and quietly asks, “Is this because of that review?”

“No,” Charles lies. Oscar stops petting him and Charles huffs. “Alright, perhaps it is about the review.”

“It’s bullshit,” Oscar says firmly.

“But what if it is not?”

“It is. You are one of the most talented piano composers in the world.”

“Oscar,” Charles whines.

“It’s true! You are so talented, Charles, and that critic who said otherwise is talking out of his ass.”

Charles stares up at Oscar. “Really?” he asks softly.

Oscar smiles at him gently. “Really. But for now, you need to go to bed.”

“But-”

“Nope. I’m taking you home and that’s that.”

“Ok,” Charles says. Giving in to Oscar is worth the tender kiss he presses to the top of his head.

[utopiastri]

oooh for the prompts please 8 (im taking you home and that’s that) and N (fondness) with a little S (exhaustion) and dealers choice for the setting bcos i couldn’t decide!! (also could be about anyone who takes your fancy you know i am delighted to follow you on any journey that being said i will love you forever if you pick galex 🫶🫶🫶) thank you!! love you!!

-🦎

8 - “i’m taking you home, and that’s that.”; N - fondness and S - exhaustion (hello my beloved🦎anon!!! you said dealer's choice for the setting and i saw the words "airplane hanger" and then started thinking about airports which are. not the same thing but there you go - thank you for the prompt darling! 💕)

(prompt list here!)

Alex is going to kill him. Alex is going to find George, kill him, bring him back from the dead to yell at him and then kill him again.

“Sir, I’m going to need your passport.”

Alex gives his most charming smile to the security guard. He’s pretty sure it comes out more as a grimace, but he thinks he can be forgiven bearing in mind it’s 3:30 in the fucking morning.

Finally, finally, he makes it through security and into duty-free. Now he just has to find his stupid best friend so that they can leave this stupid airport and Alex can get back into his stupid bed. And also so Alex can kill George.

He pulls out his phone to text George again and is met with the wall of texts he sent George earlier. His stomach churns as he rereads through their text chain.

georgie Alex, I’m so sorry to do this so last-minute, but I’ve booked a flight home. It leaves in two hours so I need to head off now - I didn’t want to wake you so I thought I’d text instead. Thank you for your hospitality.

Alex geog georgie its 3 in the fucking mroning are you kidding where are you george george i swear to god if you’re at the airport right now i’m going to kill you GEORGE

Alex sends another text, demanding for George to tell him where he is but, unsurprisingly, he doesn’t get a response. He groans.

Fine.

He’s just got to think like George. Where would George Russell go after he gets through security at the airport?

…

Alex is an idiot. It’s George. He’s probably been sat at the gate for his flight since he got here. Immediately, he starts running, pulling up George’s flight details as he goes so he can figure out which one he needs.

-----------

Five minutes later (and embarrassingly out of breath), Alex finds himself at Gate 7 staring at the back of George Russell’s head. After taking a moment to compose himself (and get his breath back), Alex marches over to him, plucking his headphones off his head for good measure.

“Wh–Alex?” George splutters, staring up at Alex first in indignation, then in bewilderment.

“Hi, Georgie.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Alex glares at him. “I don’t know, George, why might I be at the airport at three in the morning? Oh, that’s right, because my idiotic best friend is at the airport at three in the goddamn morning!”

George winces. “I was just trying to get out of your hair,” he mumbles.

Alex sighs. Pissed off as he is, he’s aware it comes out a little fond. “Who said I wanted you out of my hair?”

George’s mouth twists. “I thought…”

“You thought what?”

“I thought…I thought you’d want some space after…” George trails off and swallows.

Alex’s stomach drops. “George,” he says carefully, “What did you think last night was?”

George looks down at the ground and doesn’t say anything. Alex’s chest aches. He grabs George’s hand and pulls him to his feet.

“Alex, wh–”

“No, shut up. I am taking you home, then we are going back to sleep for at least six hours and then, at an appropriate fucking time of the morning, we are going to have a conversation about how apparently you missed the memo that I’m in love with you.”

George’s jaw drops. “B-but…you…”

“Come on,” Alex says, tugging on George’s hand, “We’re going home.”

“Wait, but what about my flig–”

Alex groans. He places a hand on George's neck and pulls him into a deep kiss. When he pulls back, George is staring at him, eyes wide.

“George Russell, I’m taking you home, and that’s that.”

[utopiastri]

6, L, ꒰ 𓃢 ꒱ the dressing room of a luxury department store — landoscar :)))

6 - “here, let’s get you warmed up.”; L - relief; 𓃢 - the dressing room of a luxury department store (hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt, darling! i hope you enjoy overwhelmed oscar who's also. um. a mermaid? 💕)

(prompt list here!)

“Osc?”

The sound of Lando’s voice makes Oscar’s head jerk up.

“Lando,” he croaks.

Lando’s sigh of relief is audible even through the dressing room door.

“Hey, baby. Can I come in?”

Oscar thinks about it for a second.

“Ok,” he whispers eventually, reaching up to undo the lock on the door of the dressing room. Lando quickly steps inside and redoes the lock. If he’s alarmed that Oscar’s shifted in the middle of a department store, he doesn’t show it.

“Hey,” he says softly instead, kneeling on the ground and opening his arms wide.

Oscar takes the invitation for what it is and buries himself in Lando’s arms, pressing his nose into Lando’s neck.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “Didn’t mean to run off.”

“‘S’okay. Too many people?”

Oscar shakes his head. “Skin just felt…wrong, I guess. Wanted to…” he trails off, words deserting him.

“Shift for a bit?” There’s no judgement in Lando’s voice, but Oscar feels ashamed nonetheless.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising, you muppet,” Lando says gently, “I know it sucks that you have to stay human practically 24/7.”

“It’s my own choice, Lando.”

“Still sucks.”

Oscar tilts his head in acknowledgement. He pulls away from Lando’s hug and gives him a wry smile. “Should probably shift back so we can finish shopping, huh?”

Lando still looks concerned. “You don’t have to. We can just, like, stay in here until you feel ready.”

Oscar grabs Lando’s hand and squeezes it in thanks. “I promise I’m good.”

Lando’s mouth twists to the side, but he nods. “Alright,” he says, closing his eyes.

Oscar smiles at him for a second, even though he knows Lando can’t see. He closes his eyes too and focuses his attention inwards. After a few seconds and a flash of bright white light, Oscar opens his eyes to see two human legs where his fish tail once sat.

Lando’s eyes pop open the second the light fades. He starts pulling off his hoodie even as Oscar protests.

“You don’t need to–”

“Hey, no, shut up, you’re always freezing after you shift,” he interrupts, finally extricating himself from the hoodie. “Here,” he says, pulling it over Oscar’s head, “Let’s get you warmed up.”

When Oscar’s head pops through the hole of the hoodie, he finds Lando staring at him fondly. Oscar blushes and focuses on grabbing the jeans he flung on the floor earlier, when he was stumbling around desperate to get them off so he could shift.

When he’s finally dressed, he goes to unlock the door only for Lando to tug at his hand and pull him into a soft kiss.

“Love you,” Lando whispers.

Oscar smiles.

“Love you too.”

[utopiastri]

From the prompt list: 13, N, 𓃓…seems a pretty clean slate so you choose the pairing!

13 - “i say this with all the love in my heart, but you look like shit.”; N - fondness; 𓃓 - at work, far later than you should be (hi darling anon! i hope you enjoy this landoscar somewhat-spy-AU - thank you so much for the prompt lovely!!! 💕💕💕)

(prompt list here!)

“I say this with all the love in my heart, but you look like shit. I’ve told you to stop working so late.”

Oscar shoots a glare at the man standing in the doorway to his lab. “This is literally your fault.”

Lando squawks in outrage. “My fault. How is this my fault?”

Oscar sighs. “You blew up the entire factory, including literally every scanning and recording device we asked you to place inside of it. Which means I now have to manually sift through all this data to find the evidence you were supposed to be getting. Which is why I am here at 2am, when I should’ve been home hours ago.”

Lando pulls a face.

“How was I meant to know I wasn’t meant to blow the factory up?”

“Do you not remember when I said ‘Lando, don’t blow up the factory’?” Oscar asks wryly.

“...no?”

Oscar rolls his eyes and resumes looking through the files Daniel had managed to pull as part of his extraction. At least Lando's partner is a functional spy, he thinks to himself. Oscar jumps when he feels arms snake around his neck and Lando press his lips to his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I forgot that you told me not to blow the factory up.”

“Yes,” Oscar says emphatically, “You did forget.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Lando whines, “I just thought it would probably be better to destroy the poison factory! It’s a factory that makes poison, Osc, it feels like something that should be destroyed.”

Oscar twists his neck to look up at Lando and he knows when Lando clocks the fond look on his face because he starts smirking.

“See,” Lando says, “You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Oscar mutters, turning back to look at his computer screen. He hears Lando huff behind him.

“Seriously? I’ve been away for a month and this is the reception I’m getting?”

“I’m busy, Lando, we literally just established that.”

Lando doesn’t reply. Oscar knows better than to think that’ll be the end of it though, and he’s proven right when he suddenly finds himself with a lap full of Lando, his thighs either side of Oscar.

“Hello,” he says dryly.

“Hi, babe.”

“You’re blocking my computer.”

“Are you saying your computer's more important than me?” Lando pouts.

“It has information on it related to potential world-ending events that I need to look through.” Lando pouts harder. Oscar heaves a sigh. “Twenty minutes and I can leave, alright?”

“Fifteen.”

“Lando. This isn’t a negotiation.”

“God, I hope not,” he remarks, “I’m shit at those.”

“Come on,” Oscar says, nudging Lando out of his lap, “Get out of my lab and let me finish this so we can go home.”

Lando purses his lips. “Fine. But I’m dragging you out of here in twenty minutes if I have to.”

Oscar pecks him on the cheek. “Deal.”