Chapter Text
Lando was fully aware of the fact that his cooking skills had never been anything to gloat about. Close to average on a really good day, and on a bad day… Well, he supposed this was about as bad as it got. The small grease fire on his stove that had started a few minutes ago during a disastrous attempt at cooking chicken was now a considerably larger grease fire, and his initial attempts at putting it out had somehow only proven to make the problem worse.
To his dismay, Lando couldn’t remember if he was supposed to or not supposed to use water to put out something like this, but quickly came to realize that the answer was definitely no when the water he’d splashed over the frying pan only made the flames shoot up higher.
Right, okay.
Probably an issue for the fire brigade at this stage then.
Lando grabbed his phone out of his pocket, muttering an echo of “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” under his breath while he ran towards the living room and simultaneously dialed 999. He would have left the building immediately if it weren’t for his stupid fucking cat who decided now would be the perfect time to wake up and not be laying where he was earlier.
Multitasking had never really been his strong suit, especially when in a near state of panic, so trying to formulate his thoughts to the operator that picked up on the phone felt like a near impossible task while ducking to check under the sofa and every other nearby cat-sized crevice he could have been hiding in.
“Hi! Um- There’s a small- Well, I guess it’s not super small anymore- There’s a fire in my kitchen? And I think I need the fire brigade, like now,” he rushed out, trying to make out what the woman was saying in response over the blaring fire alarm that had now started going off.
Not helpful for his panic or overwhelm at all, really.
“Okay, sir, where are you located? Is there anyone else in the building?”
Lando looked back over his shoulder to check the state of the fire, which was still seemingly confined to the stove thank god, then quickly returned back to rushing around to try to find the cat.
“74 Castle Street, I- My cat is still in here, I’ve gotta find him, but there’s no one else. He’s just- Fuck, where the hell are you?” Lando let out a loud groan of exasperated frustration, running to the bathroom now to check there instead.
“Sir, try to stay calm, we have the fire brigade on their way to you right now. I understand you’re concerned about your cat, but it’s important that you leave the building immediately. They’ll be there in just a few minutes.”
Lando swallowed hard, stopping in his tracks for a moment while he tried to force his brain to think this through. The fire was still pretty small - for now, at least. The firefighters would be there shortly. The cat would be fine. He repeated the words in his head like a mantra before cursing under his breath, taking a final few looks around, and quickly retreating back towards the entrance of the house. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was the small amount of smoke starting to waft through the air or his own panic that was making him lightheaded, but whatever it was, it wasn’t helping the situation. He threw the door open and quickly made his way out of the building, his heart still rabbiting in his chest while he walked over to wait on the sidewalk.
“Sir? Are you still there?”
“Uh- Yeah, I’m here, are they close?” He asked quickly, wrapping his free arm around himself while the other kept holding the phone to his ear. He immediately regretted not bringing a coat out with him - London in October, especially at night, wasn’t the type of climate particularly well-suited to be standing outside in nothing but a loose t-shirt, boxers, and slippers.
“Just a few more minutes. Stay on the line with me, okay? I’ll let you go once they pull up. You said the fire is in the kitchen? How did it start?”
Lando threw his arm out in frustration before scrubbing his hand over his face, trying to decipher why the hell that could possibly be relevant right now.
“Pretty sure you said ‘just a few minutes’ a few minutes ago, yeah? I was cooking. Stove, oil, kitchen fire, feel like the dots connect pretty fuckin’ easily.”
He immediately felt guilty for the attitude he was giving the woman, but in fairness, he was pretty sure he was about to cry, and he was cold, and his goddamn cat was still in there.
“I know this is stressful, sir, just take a few deep breaths. They’re almost there, I promise. What’s your name?”
Again, Lando really didn’t know why the fuck she needed his name, but he took in a couple shaky, deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down regardless. “Lando Norris,” he replied, his voice slightly strained while he turned back around to face towards the house. The light pouring out from the kitchen window was glowing orange, he could see faint, blurry flames through it standing even this far away, but it at least looked like it still hadn’t spread much, thank fucking god.
“Okay, Lando, you’re doing great. You should be seeing the lights any second now. Just keep taking those deep breaths.”
Lando did as she told him, even though he felt like she was talking to him like a child, taking some more breaths in through his nose and exhaling from his mouth while he kept his eyes trained at the end of the quiet road. He answered a few more painstaking questions from the woman, and after what felt like hours - but what was probably just a few more minutes - he finally heard the distant sound of sirens and the bright, flashing lights of a firetruck illuminating the street.
Thank fucking god.
“Okay, they’re here. Sorry for yelling at you,” he blurted out quickly, waving one arm frantically in the air as if the firefighters couldn’t already tell the half-naked man standing in the road wasn’t the one who needed help.
“No worries at all, Lando. Glad you’ve got help there now. Best of luck, bye-bye now!”
The phone line disconnected just as the truck pulled up to the pavement, four men quickly rushing out of the truck and talking amongst themselves while grabbing some gear from inside the truck.
Lando watched them, his arms hugging around himself tightly as his body finally started properly registering the bitter cold, until one of the firefighters walked briskly up to him.
“Is there anyone else in the house? It’s a grease fire, yeah?” The man asked, wasting no time with pleasantries.
“Uh- My cat is in there. Just him, no one else. And, yeah, it’s just- I think it’s pretty small still, ‘s a grease fire,” he replied quickly, to which the man simply nodded before walking back to the others. Three of the four men, fully geared up and one of them holding a large fire extinguisher, rushed into the house while another hung behind, communicating something that Lando couldn’t make out over a radio before finally heading inside behind the others. The man gave Lando a firm clap on the shoulder as he walked by, his gloved hand warm over the thin fabric of his t-shirt.
Lando turned around to try and watch the scene but couldn't make much out to his disappointment. Thankfully though, the orange light that had been bleeding out through the window had disappeared quickly, his heart rate immediately slowing down a bit at that.
After what had to have been at least ten minutes, Lando was fucking freezing at that stage, his body trembling just slightly. But thank god, one of the men was finally retreating back out of the house, pulling the mask and helmet off of himself while he made his way over to Lando.
And, fuck.
This guy was hot.
He knew it was definitely the wrong time to be swooning over some random guy when the entirety of his kitchen could be burnt to a crisp right then, but the closer he got and the more of his face he could see, the less composed Lando was starting to feel. Freckles and moles adorned what was visible of his skin, his damp, mousy hair still gorgeous somehow regardless of how messy it had gotten from the helmet being pulled off. And Christ, his smile.
“Hi. Mr. Norris, is it?” The man asked, setting his removed gear down on the pavement and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Uh- Yeah. Lando,” he replied, his voice coming out more strained than he anticipated. He cleared his throat, shifting his weight between his feet while he suddenly began regretting his state of dress for reasons much more pressing than the biting cold. Because, holy shit, of course he had to be looking shittier and more embarrassing than ever when confronted by what was probably the most gorgeous man to walk this earth. And a firefighter, not to mention. So, he was probably super strong, too, or whatever.
Not the time, Lando.
“Lando, got it. I’m Oscar. We’ve got everything under control in there now, the rest of the guys are just finishing up a few final checks before the scene is fully cleared. Just wanted to- Shit, sorry, you must be freezing. Here,” the man - Oscar - replied, suddenly pulling off the thick fire retardant jacket he was wearing and draping it around Lando’s shoulders.
Lando’s eyes widened for a moment, nearly choking on air while he inadvertently looked over the man's physique that was now visible, which… Good god. His biceps were cruelly massive, the tight black shirt he was wearing accentuating his broad chest, and Lando felt like he could just about pass out. The warmth of the jacket was nice, too, but the cold had suddenly felt much less pressing.
“Thanks,” he choked out, clearing his throat again. “Yeah, uh… Pretty cold out here.”
Oscar laughed quietly, as if Lando couldn’t get any more infatuated, but he quickly moved on to continuing his explanation from before.
“So, anyway- Kitchen is fine for the most part. There’s some smoke damage, but no major issues you need to be worried about. If you have home or renters insurance, I’d recommend taking some photos and filing a claim for it tomorrow morning. We’ve opened some windows to air the place out, and- Oh, the cat is fine, by the way. Happy as a clam, pretty sure he’d already fallen back asleep by the time I headed out,” Oscar said with a grin, resting his hands onto his hips.
Lando let out an immediate sigh of relief, doubling over slightly and putting his hands on his knees while he took in a deep breath. “Jesus fuck, thank god. Thank you, thank you so much,” he replied, forcing himself upright again and holding the large jacket closed over himself. “I was ready to burn alive in there trying to find him before the 999 lady yelled at me for it. Well, she didn’t yell, I guess, but it felt like it.”
Oscar laughed again, a sound that Lando wouldn’t mind hearing on repeat for the rest of his life, before he patted Lando’s shoulder again like he had earlier.
“No problem at all, mate. ‘S what we’re here for. Just, maybe stick to takeaway next time, yeah? As nice as it is to meet you, I’d hate to be showing back up here for another fire.”
Lando tried not to read into all of that, because it probably meant literally nothing, but he found himself replaying the words in his head regardless. Would he want to be here under other circumstances? And, it was ‘nice to meet him’? Nice, like, how? ‘Nice to meet you’ in a normal way that you say when you’re being polite to someone you really don’t give a fuck about, or ‘nice to meet you’ in the way Lando felt about meeting this guy? That being, a very not-normal way that Lando was pretty sure would get him a restraining order if Oscar was suddenly able to read his thoughts.
“...Right. No more cooking. Firefighters orders,” he murmured, chuckling to himself and absentmindedly kicking at a small rock with his slipper while he looked down at the pavement. He really didn’t trust himself to keep looking at this guy's face when he was standing so close that he could practically feel the body heat radiating off of him.
“Attaboy. And, for future reference? Just cover the frying pan with a lid or a cookie sheet, ‘n throw some baking soda onto the fire. It’ll put it out a lot quicker than it takes us to show up. But, hope your night goes better from here, Lando. Take care, yeah?”
Lando felt a bit frozen in place from the ‘attaboy’, his brain taking a few seconds longer than it should have to process the rest of what he said, but he forced himself to nod with a smile when his body caught back up to reality.
“Uh- You too, yeah. Good luck with the… Fires, ‘n everything.”
Lando nearly physically cringed at his own words, but his embarrassment quickly turned to confusion when Oscar remained standing there. That had been his cue to leave, right? Why wasn’t he leaving?
“As much as I’d love to let you hang onto the coat, they’re pretty expensive, and I’m sure it’ll be cozier inside, anyway,” Oscar said after an awkward few seconds of silence, but the smile on his face still looked genuine.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Of course. Lando tore the jacket off as if it had burned him, feeling his cheeks go red immediately as he shoved the heavy fabric back over towards Oscar.
“Shit, sorry. Right. Uh, cheers, thanks again!” He blurted out, turning on his heel to head back into the house hopefully before Oscar could notice his face flushing. The remaining three firefighters walked past him without a word on his way to the door, and Lando forced out a, “thanks, lads,” before finally opening the door back up and walking inside.
As soon as he closed it behind him he leaned against the wall, never having been more grateful to be back within the confines of his own space. Away from the cold London air, as well as strong, hot men who would certainly ruin his psyche if he let himself dwell on them too much.
After pulling himself together for a moment, Lando made his way into the kitchen to inspect the damage. It really wasn’t bad, all things considered. Like Oscar had mentioned, there was a decently large black mark on the wall above the oven that bloomed out to the sides, as well as an unfortunate white foam coating the stovetop, counter, and part of the wall that he presumed was from the fire extinguisher. That was not a problem for right now, though. Lando retreated to the leaving room, immediately seeing the one thing he’d been searching relentlessly for as soon as all of this had begun.
His cat was sleeping peacefully on the sofa, curled up on a crumpled blanket without a care in the world as if Lando hadn’t been considering letting himself burn alive for the damn thing not even half an hour ago.
“Fuck you, asshole,” he murmured, kneeling down on the floor in front of the couch and burying his face into his soft fur while he wrapped his arms around him. The cat let out a weak, annoyed ‘mrow’ at being woken up, but didn’t move from where he’d been laying. Lando stayed there for a good few minutes until the cat started to try and push away from his hold on him, and he took that as his cue to reluctantly get up and deal with the shitshow that was the current state of the kitchen. That, as well as ordering food. His hunger had been the last thought on his mind until now, too distracted to pay it any mind, but what was supposed to be his dinner was now sitting burnt to a disgusting, black crisp covered in white chemical foam.
Pizza, then.
After placing an online order, Lando had started to clean, but after he’d only done so much as throw the frying pan into a sink filled with sudsy water, he found himself pulling his phone back out again. He opened Instagram, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard for a moment in the search bar before typing in ‘london fire brigade’. Surely enough, they had an account, and any further thoughts of cleaning left Lando’s mind in an instant as he clicked on the profile.
To his pleasant surprise, Oscar was featured on the page several different times, looking somehow almost hotter than he did tonight. Or rather, just as hot, but in a very different way. Hair falling in perfect, loose waves, not as covered in sweat, and much easier to see than he had been in the dark earlier when Lando had to rely on streetlamps and the neon flashing lights of the firetruck to illuminate his face.
He knew objectively it was stupid to be jealous of the other firefighters he was standing posed with in some of the photos, but Lando had a feeling they were very much taking for granted being able to have their arms casually wrapped over Oscar’s shoulders or on his waist like that. It was stupid. Entirely, annoyingly stupid.
Lando had interacted with him for all but five minutes, he had no reason whatsoever to develop a personal distaste towards the goddamn heroes of London for simply being in close quarters with this guy.
He shut his phone off with a huff, setting it down on the counter with a little more force than he’d intended before returning back to his original goal of getting the kitchen to a passable state. He could crash out over hot men later. He shouldn’t have even been awake in the first place to be honest - he had an early meeting tomorrow for a clothing design review with his friend, and, technically co-worker, he supposed, Max. He’d inevitably be in a bad mood considering how few hours of sleep he’d be getting, but again, a problem for later.
The food he’d ordered conveniently showed up right as he was wiping away the last remaining remnants of fire extinguisher foam, and as he ate, Lando fought every cell in his body to not go back to that Instagram page to try and find Oscar’s personal Instagram account. As badly as he wanted to, that felt like a step too far into stalker territory, and Lando was not a stalker.
Yet, at least. Probably.
After what had ended up being a very fitful and unrestful six hours of sleep, Lando felt like absolute rubbish as he walked into the small, dingy studio space he and Max rented out in central London. The office was frustratingly far from his house, and as much as he typically enjoyed driving, dealing with London traffic on no breakfast or caffeine at seven thirty in the morning felt like a layer of hell personally crafted for him.
“You look like shit, mate,” Max greeted him with while he swiveled slightly in his desk chair, an amused grin plastered on his face as he looked Lando over.
Lando rolled his eyes with an annoyed huff, throwing himself down into his own chair and scrubbing his hands over his face.
“Consider yourself lucky that ‘m even here right now, nearly didn’t even make it out the door on time,” he grumbled, spinning his chair around to grab an energy drink from the small mini fridge beside his desk.
“Well, personally, I feel great, so.” Max tossed a small, crumpled wad of paper at him, hitting Lando in the shoulder, but he hardly even reacted - not doing more than throwing a glare over to him as he popped the tab of his Monster open.
“Jesus, no retaliation? You actually good, mate?”
Lando took a long drink before nodding, setting the can back down on his desk with a deep breath. “Yeah, ‘m good. Just, like, my kitchen set on fire last night, and then I think I sort of fell in love with some hot firefighter, and I slept like shit.”
Max’s jaw dropped open while his expression contorted, scoffing out a disbelieving sound. “Holy shit, okay, right. That’s… Fair enough, then. Kitchen okay? It was bad enough for the fire brigade?”
“Well, the guy made it very clear that I probably could have put it on my own, but I guess I just ended up making it worse, so I freaked out ‘n called them. Kitchen’s, like, fine. He was just… Fuck, I can’t even explain how hot this guy was. And, like, funny. And big. He gave me his coat ‘n stuff, ‘cause I was sort of just in boxers and a shirt. But, like, I’m so close to setting another fire just to get him to come back.” Lando sighed exasperatedly, taking another drink before leaning his head back and looking up at the ceiling.
“Pretty sure that’s illegal, but I can’t say I don’t respect the dedication to getting shagged. Glad you’re alive or whatever, too.”
The morning dragged by far too slowly, Lando’s brain still lagging a good few seconds behind reality even after his second energy drink. After they had wrapped up a few hours later, sitting back in his car, Lando found himself returning to the fire brigade's Instagram account. Without letting himself think too hard about it, he pressed the follow button, then clicked on the page's current followers. He hovered over the search bar for a few seconds before finally typing in ‘Oscar’, his stomach churning slightly in anticipation as his eyes darted over the results. There were several different results, given the page had a decently large following (to no surprise, considering the types of goddamn people they posted on there), but Lando’s eyes immediately caught on one specific profile picture that he immediately recognized as Oscar.
Clicking on the account, Lando cursed under his breath when he found that it was private. Probably for the best, he figured, but still disappointing. He turned his phone off with a deep breath, heavily debating how weird it would be if he brought cookies into the fire station as an innocent gesture of gratitude and goodwill.
People do that sometimes, right? That’s just, like, being a good person.
Not weird.