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It was a mission like any other. Meaning nothing was like Lando knew it. It’s why he had said yes when the Captain America had asked him to join the Avengers. Fighting Hydra, discovering a decade-long spiel and infiltrations of Nazi within S.H.I.E.L.D: was honestly the best time Lando had had in a while. And now, a few months after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, the Cap-Squad (as Alex had come to call them) were in the last undercover Hydra facility. An old warehouse in a suburb of Chicago. The majority of the guards were down. Alex was pulling arrows from an unconscious antagonist on the floor as George reloaded his guns. Logan picked his shield up from the ground when Lando landed in the last spot of the circle they had formed.

“That’s it? It’s over?” George almost sounded disappointed.

“What? You’re not done kicking ass?” Alex teased him as he cleaned some blood from one of the arrow tips. George grinned at him, “Never.”

Just as Lando wanted to tease them about whatever has been going on between them, there was a distant sound. They all turned towards the direction of the noise. A larger steel door that lead into a dark hallway.

“Thought you checked every floor.” Logan said as he raised his shield and slowly walked towards the supposed threat. Alex drew an arrow, George pointed his guns and Lando spread his mechanic wings, drawing the guns from his holsters. “I did.” Lando said, just as another sound from the opposite direction echoed through the room. Alex and George turned around while Logan and Lando stayed focused on the door. Lando could swear he sees something in the dark hallway. A shimmer of something. Perhaps a weapon. But it’s too bright for a gun. Maybe metal? A pipe? And then it all happened too quickly.

Gunfire from the hallway. Against the ground. The steel shelves. Cap’s shield. Lando folded his wings around Alex and George, giving them a hole to shoot through. The light from the person’s weapon gave Lando a glimpse of who they had to deal with. Black clothes, a mask revealing only the eyes that were heavily painted with black eyeshadow. Thick boots, weapons being held by holsters on the legs. And a silver metal arm.

The intel was right. The Winter Soldier is still alive. Still controlled.

“Oh fuck.” Logan exclaimed. He pushed straight on, slapping the gun from the Winter Soldier’s hands. Lando couldn’t see much from the fight. Just as he wanted to help Logan, the gunfire started again from above them. Several Hydra Agents made their way down to them on wires. Lando opened the shield he had created around Alex and George and took off, taking out two agents in the air. The remaining three agents were quickly being taken out by Alex and George in hand to hand combat. When they were sure that all Hydra agents were eliminated, they turned around to see Logan still fighting the Winter Soldier.

“Oscar, fight it! I know you can!” Logan shouts over punches, one landing with enough force to have him stumbling backwards. The Winter Soldier draws a knife from his holster and goes to attack, but Lando flies in, kicking him in the chest, the metal blade falling to the ground. He lands and kicks the Soldier once more to keep him on the ground. Before Lando can get another punch in, two widow bites from George’s gauntlet land in the Winter Soldier’s neck, making him squirm from the electric shocks before passing out entirely. He turns around and sees George still with his arm raised, slowly lowering it. Behind him, Alex is helping up Cap, the latter collecting his shield from the ground and wiping away the blood from his mouth.

“Winter Soldier ‘s still alive.” Lando mumbles as he looks down on the now, thankfully, passed out Winter Soldier. George, with his hands on his hips, eyes the man on the floor, as if he’d be ready to fire again if just a muscle twitched. Alex stows away the rest of his arrows. “Thought Hydra killed him already.” George raises an eyebrow, “Those were just rumours.” Alex extends his arms, pointing to the Winter Soldier. “Yeah, well, obviously.”

“Cap! You know him? You said a name.” Lando interrupts the usual back and forth between the duo. Logan sighs. “Yeah… He- It’s a long story.”

“Who is he?” Alex asks carefully.

“Someone who needs help.”

---

Lando wasn’t particularly keen on today. He understood, when Logan made the announcement. Of course he did. He is no one to question the entire century long history behind it all and still, he thought it was mad. “Batshit crazy” like the little Spider-Kid would say. It’s why he did what he always did to get his head clear.

He fought.

The punching bag in the training room that is. He thought about going for a fly around the compound but decided he is too lazy to put on the wings if not for a mission. Plus, Max and Charles wanted to look at them in the lab to see if they can include nano-tech in them. Lando didn’t really care for it, but it’s best not to argue with the eccentric billionaire and the guy who literally turns green if mad. Once, Lando accidentally (or maybe not so accidentally) ate the last of Charles’ cereals. He feared for his life when he saw his eyes turn green and ran to the panic room.

He actually prefers to deal with the Hulk right now than face the Winter Soldier today. No, that wasn’t fair. Lando knows that the Winte- Oscar has been Hydra-free for several months now, having gone on some rehab-spree in a classified location. Lando still thought Logan was too close to it all to see the bigger picture. This was dangerous. Not because Lando didn’t trust Oscar. Well, he didn’t. But that might be because the only time they met, Oscar tried to kill him. And his entire team. Yes, Lando knows he was brainwashed and had his memory deleted and what not, but still. Oscar was controlled by Hydra for nearly a century, and all that is supposed to be gone in just a few months? No, no fucking way.

He decided to extend his workout today. Maybe just to not have to meet Oscar directly. But he really didn’t have the time the past week with the move to the compound upstate. And with half the Avengers, like Max and Charles and their scientist team, still being in the tower in New York, there was more work to do for the remaining Avengers here. The remaining Avengers being the Cap Squad and occasionally Susie Wolff to check in and report back to Toto, her husband slash former director of Shield and now top-advisor to the president in matters of national and international security. Meaning: keeping the Avengers in check, making sure they don’t fuck up. 

So far they haven’t. They rotted out Hydra, cut off all the heads so not one could grow back. It’s been rather quiet since then. A few operations but nothing that would require the entire force of the Avengers (read: alien invasions or artificial intelligence taking over Max’s suits and making an entire city fly). That’s why Logan thought it was the perfect opportunity to settle Oscar into the compound. He had been pardoned by the president and given the go by Toto to, slowly, join the Avengers. Though Toto also said that Cap was responsible for him and any ‘casualties’ that Oscar might cause, so Lando desperately hoped that Oscar wouldn’t fuck this up for Logan. Or Lando will fuck up Oscar. It’s not like he hasn’t before. And while he did have a little help from George, it didn’t end well for Oscar. Or… well… it kinda did, actually.

A hard punch lands on the punching back, making Lando have to catch it before it could hit his face. He wipes the sweat trickling down his forehead and goes over to where he had put his water bottle. As he takes a large gulp, he can hear footsteps coming down the hallway, the magnetic door to the training door half open. Lando can make out Logan’s voice, but the exact words. Probably on the phone with Toto or Susie, briefing them about Oscar or whatnot. He sets down his water bottle and goes back to the punching bag, Logan’s voice getting closer. After a left hook and a right cross, he heard Logan clearly.

“This is our training room. You can take it easy though. No need to dive back in.” That made Lando catch the punching bag once more, steading it. “And this is Lando aka the Falcon. You remember him?” Lando frowns at Logan words. The way he speaks a little too soft, like he is talking to a child. Or someone who is mentally deranged. Lando turns around to see Oscar standing next to Logan, black sleeves and gloves covering skin and metal, thick boots like he never left the army and a cold, piercing stare directed at Lando. Oscar nods, not saying a word, keeping his lips shut.

“Lando, you remember Oscar?” Logan says with a bright smile. As if the alleged murderer of JFK isn’t standing right next to him. Lando steps forward then, loosening the hand wraps and wiping away sweat from his temples. “Yeah, he tried to kill us.” He puts the hand wraps in his pockets and extends his hand. “Pleasure.” Oscar stares at his hand like it might poison him and leave him to die a slow painful death, if he were to touch it. Lando can’t blame him. Hesitantly, Oscar puts his gloved hand in Lando’s, squeezes once, rather strongly but that might be the super soldier serum, and let’s go as if he was burnt. Then he casts his eyes back to Lando’s, staring. Lando accepts the challenge, stares back. He makes a staring competition out of it but loses immediately. It’s only then that Lando notices the smirk forming on Logan’s face. Before he can question it, Logan opens his mouth. “We won’t bother you any longer, Lando, sorry.”

“You’re the only one who’s allowed to, Cap.” Lando says with a genuine smile, clasping Logan’s shoulder. He looks at Oscar once more. Oscar who is still staring at him, but different somehow. Still cold but there is more to it in the brown of his eyes. Lando dares to say it looks something like curiosity. Lando nods, hoping it comes across as a silent welcome. He doesn’t wait for an answer or reaction and turns around, rebandaging his hands. He hears footsteps, Logan whispering something. It’s only when the two former soldiers are halfway out the door that Lando turns around again.

That wasn’t so bad.

---

Lando almost forgot about Oscar staying at the compound. He had been playing Call of Duty with some old military friends online, till they had to log off. It’s only then that Lando realised it’s the middle of the night, that he hasn’t even had dinner.

Barefoot, in his shorts and oversized t-shirt that he stole from Daniel while he is back on Asgard, he makes his way down the hallway, descends the stairs and heads for the kitchen. The compound is silent, the lights off. Only the fluorescent light shining where the floor meets the walls lights up his path. He turns the corner to find the kitchen and the sitting nook empty and dark as expected. Opening the fridge, casting the kitchen in light blue light, he prays that Alex has some of his amazing green papaya salad left. But the fridge is rather empty, except for George’s smoked salmon. But Lando can feel the puke rise in his throat by just looking at it. Fruit will have to do then. He closes the door to the fridge, the light disappearing, and reveals a figure standing silently still.

“Jesus, fuck.” Lando shrieks back and grabs his chest, like his heart might jump out. He takes a closer look at the figure and realises it’s none other than Oscar, wearing a long sleeve plain shirt and pyjama pants that are definitely Logan’s, judging by the little eagle icons all over them. “Damn, you scared me man.” Lando flicks on the lights above the kitchen island. They create a warm glow around the room, reflecting off the metal on Oscar’s hand. Lando’s eyes are drawn to it but Oscar must have realised and stretched the sleeve over it, eyes still locked on Lando. Lando asks himself if Oscar ever blinks. He raises an eyebrow, mustering Oscar’s figure once more before locking his eyes, reaching for an apple in the fruit bowl on the kitchen island. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Lando asks and bites into the apple. Oscar just shakes his head, his eyes moving to the apple in Lando’s hand, then to the bowl of fruit. Lando follows his line of sight and, without really thinking about it, grabs another apple, holding it out for Oscar. Oscar hesitates, doesn’t even move from his spot near the door. Like he wants the opportunity to flee if necessary. So Lando takes a step forward and gestures for Oscar to take the damn apple. He says as much. “It’s just an apple. It won’t bite you. That’s what you should do.” Oscar reaches out with his right hand hesitantly, taking the apple from Lando’s hand and grazing his fingers just slightly. 

Lando observes four things in that brief moment: firstly, Oscar’s fingers are warm. Of course they are, why wouldn’t they be. It’s not like he reached out with his metal hand. Secondly, Oscar has dark circles under his eyes. Not like when he was the Winter Soldier with the black eyeshadow. The dark parts sitting under his eyes are forged by sleepless and probably restless nights, fatigue, pain. Thirdly, Oscar had a few centimeters on him. It was hard to tell earlier when Oscar was wearing boots and Lando sneakers. But now, Lando being barefoot and Oscar only wearing socks, Oscar was just the tiniest bit taller. It annoyed Lando a little bit. And finally, and this cracks a little on his heart, Oscar seemed too shy or maybe even scared to ask for food. Even if it was just an apple.

Oscar’s eyes find Lando’s again, piercing through. “Thank you.” He says like it’s taking all his willpower to get a sentence out. Lando realises he never heard Oscar speak till now. There is an accent latched on his voice. Not American like Logan, not quite English like his own. His voice is raspy too. Like he’s just been to a heavy metal concert and screamed too much. Or like he hasn’t properly used his voice for some time. The latter seems more likely. Something cracks in Lando’s heart again thinking about it. Instead he steps back again, leaning against the kitchen counter and taking another bite of his apple. Oscar is turning his over in his hand.

“Nightmares?” Lando asks around his bite, wiping away a drop of juice spilling down his chin. Oscar nods. Maybe he has a limited amount of words he can say in a day and doesn’t deem it worthy to waste any more on Lando, he thinks. Still, he’s not one to just give up. “Yeah, I get them too.” He takes another bite, giving Oscar the chance to answer something. But he stays quiet. And yet, he stays. After a few moments, Lando doesn’t expect an answer anymore. He pushes himself forward and throws the trunk of his eaten apple in the trash. He turns around to the sink to wash the sticky juice off his hands. Right as he turns off the faucet again, Oscar speaks up in a quiet, almost whispering voice. Like he is scared to speak too loudly.

“I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”

Lando turns around with a towel drying the water off his hands. “What?” Oscar doesn’t break eye contact, repeats his sentence a little louder. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you. In the warehouse.” Lando finds himself trying to fight the urge to laugh. This isn’t what he expected. Oscar isn’t really what he expected. Not entirely. Yet he can’t really say what he expected. Less piercing eyes and apologies and more violence probably. It’s surprising, the apology, and yet absolutely unnecessary.

“Mate, don’t worry about it. Wasn’t your fault. You weren’t in control.”

Oscar takes a deep breath. His metal fingers fumble with the fabric around them. “My uhm…” He huffs once out of frustration maybe. Lando is used to people being frustrated with him. “My therapist told me to make amends.” Lando figures that someone like Oscar would need a therapist. Heck, he needed one after everything that happened in the air force. With Max. “I uh, I keep a list and… I wanna make amends. With you.” Something stings in Lando’s chest. “All of you.”

Lando sees more in his eyes yet again. This time it’s something sad. Hurt, almost, like a kicked puppy. Lando wants to give him a treat. For now, helping him make amends will probably suffice. “Alright. Make me pancakes and we’re even.” Lando grins, throwing the towel somewhere next to the sink. George will probably tidy it up, the neat freak. The sadness from Oscar’s eyes is replaced by confusion. “Pardon?” God, he is so old, Lando thinks. Openly he just chuckles. “Make me pancakes and you amended or whatever.” He pushes past Oscar towards the door. Before he steps out, he turns around once more. Oscar with his back to him, metal only slightly peeking out from the sleeve, apple still in his other hand, untouched. “With maple syrup, please.” That makes Oscar turn around with a questioning look on his face, brows furrowed. Lando just widens his grin, steps into the dark hallway. He doesn’t stop grinning the whole way to his room. Or once he is in bed.

Oscar is definitely not what he expected.

---

Maybe it was Lando’s mistake for messing with him, when he was clearly not ready for sarcasm or jokes. But he has to admit, it looks quite funny seeing Oscar standing at the stove, flipping a pan and failing miserably at catching the pancake cooking in it. One side being almost black, the other not even halfway done. That was a true superpower.

“Need a hand?” Lando asks from where he is leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, grinning at the scene in front of him. Oscar turns around, pan in hand, pancake almost sliding out. But he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at Lando like a deer caught in headlights. “Just asking, cause I could smell something burnt from down the hallway.” Lando asks, pointing towards the hall behind him with a shit-eating grin. Oscar’s look shifts into a deadpan. As dead as whatever is in his pan right now. But still, he moves towards the trash and dumps the excuse of a pancake into it. “I was trying to make amends. To you.” The way he says it reminds Lando of a little kid that tells his parents it just let the dog loose.

With a raised eyebrow, Lando pushes off the doorframe and strides over to Oscar. “Yeah, I can see that. It’s not necessary though.” Oscar bangs the pan against the edge of the trashcan, to get the remaining batter off it. Oscar turns around, avoids Lando’s gaze and goes to try to make another pancake. It might be the first time he wasn’t staring into Lando’s soul. “I want to make amends.” It does something in Lando’s chest. That Oscar feels so guilty he’d probably do anything to try to make it even to Lando. Even though it wasn’t even Oscar’s fault. None of it. Lando considers telling him as much. He doesn’t. Instead he grabs another pan and motions for Oscar to move over, placing it on the round plate next to Oscar’s, turning it on and smearing some butter in it. He can feel Oscar watch him in the process. In silence, they cook pancakes that are actually worth eating. When Oscar puts the last scoop of batter in his pan, Lando finally works up the courage to ask the question that’s been on his mind since yesterday.

“What’s with the gloves?” He doesn’t look Oscar in the eyes, instead watches how Oscar’s hands flex when he says it, tightening around the pan like it might be a weapon. Oscar can definitely make it one. Somehow, that doesn’t freak Lando out.

“I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.” Oscar almost whispers, the words nearly being inaudible over the frizzling pan. But Lando hears it, standing right next to him, almost close enough to brush their shoulders together. “Why would I be uncomfortable?” He asks, because he truly doesn’t understand. It’s just flesh and metal. What about it? “What? ‘Cause of the metal arm? Gotta admit, that’s kinda mint. Looks pretty badass.”

Oscar does the thing again. The staring thing. And Lando just has to look at him too. There is something vulnerable in Oscar’s eyes. That quickly got overshadowed by confusion. “Mint? Like the herb?” Lando grins so he doesn’t break out into laughter. “Oh uhm… mint is like cool. Like… it’s good.” Oscar nods in understanding, but Lando can see the gears turning in his head, trying to comprehend twenty-first century British-slang. Lando gets an idea all of the sudden.

“George actually made a powerpoint presentation for Logan, when he came out of the ice. You know, stuff he missed. Maybe I can ask him for it. It’s actually pretty useful, though I might add some stuff.” Lando says and winks. Winks. He wants to take it back immediately, pretend he has an eyelash in his eye or something but Oscar… doesn’t smile per say but the corners of his mouth tick up the tiniest bit. 

“What is a powerpoint?”

---

Lando can’t pinpoint exactly why his hands are shaking. It might be fear of catching George and Alex doing things again. In the training room. Where they all train. Lando couldn’t look Alex in the eyes for a whole week. But as he carefully peaks around the corner into the living room, he sees them both dressed, watching some reality show George swore Alex begged him to watch. And yet Alex is the one on his phone and George watches with wide eyes.

“Hey guys.” He picks a loose thread on his sweater to give his hands something to do. Alex and George turn around, as a blonde woman screams at a man on screen. George presses Pause. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You still have the powerpoint you did for Cap? The ‘welcome to the modern times’ one?” Alex snickers and goes back to his phone. Lando guesses he is watching cat videos on Tik Tok or something. George raises an eyebrow. “Should be on my hard drive somewhere. Why?”

Lando tucks on the thread, unraveling a part of the pattern. “Oh, uhm, I thought we could show Oscar. You know, he’s been asking about stuff.” George’s eye brow raises even further towards his hair line. He is probably setting a new record. “Yeah, sure.” His voice is hesitant though. “I’ll search it up for you.” Lando wants to thank him and leave again, when George speaks up again. “Is this about being helpful, or… something else?” Lando looks up then. What does he mean by “something else”? Lando just wants to be helpful. He can’t imagine what it must feel like to wake up in 80 years without knowing anything about the time. He’d want the help. With a sharpness in a voice he says as much. “You guys did the same for Cap, didn’t you? You think Oscar doesn’t deserve it? You don’t trust him?!”

Lando didn’t mean to snap like that and George and Alex obviously didn’t expect it, Alex even shutting off his phone and turning around again. “Sorry.” He mumbles, dragging a hand through his hair, because if he pulls on the thread even more, his sweater will become loose.

“Not what he meant, Lando.” Alex says. And before Lando can ask what he meant then, Alex continues. “We’ll look it up.” George opens his mouth to say something but shuts it again when Alex puts a hand on his shoulder. Lando smiles at them apologetically, thanks them again and shuts the door behind him as he leaves.

“He has a crush.” George says once they can’t hear Lando’s footsteps through the closed door anymore.

“Yup.”

“He doesn’t know it yet.”

“Nope.”

“This is gonna crash and burn.”

Alex hums in agreement. “Wanna make a bet?”

---

They were in the conference room. Oscar sitting at the desk, Lando standing next to the holo-smartboard. As he is done explaining the evolution of fashion and hairstyles and that buzzcuts are prohibited, according to Lando anyway, Oscar looking at him like he had grown a second and third head, he skips to the next slide. The title card reads “movie magic” and Lando, like with the past six title slides, spreads his arms with a wide stance to present it. Lando is a little too excited for the meme slide so Oscar will understand.

“We had movies in the 40s, Lando.” Oscar says with a deadpan expression and that damn stare. Lando scoffs. “Yeah, but not coloured ones. So shut it.” He skips to the next slide. “Okay so: ‘Star Wars’ is like iconic. Films, shows, comics, video games. It’s the franchise. But nothing compares to my personal favorite ‘Lord of the Rings’, truly a masterpiece. I mean Legolas was like my gay awa-”

“Oh, I loved the book.” Oscar interrupts Lando’s outing that he didn’t really plan, so he is thankful for it. Lando hasn’t exactly prepared a slide on sexuality and identity so it’s best to keep it from the guy who grew up in a time where people like Lando were killed. But wait, what?

“The book?” Lando raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Oscar looks at him with the kicked puppy eyes again. “Yeah, there uhm… there was a book. I read it. Loved it. A friend from the army brought it from England. Wasn’t really sold in America back then.” Huh. Lando nods. “Didn’t know you were a nerd.” Lando means it as a joke. He’s not sure if it lands like it but Oscar’s corners of his mouth tick up a little. “Takes one to know one.” Lando smiles and he could swear Oscar’s corners tick up just a little bit higher, eyes piercing through Lando, but somehow… kinder. Lando clears his throat and turns back to the presentation.

“Right, so uhm we can’t talk about fantasy without talking about ‘Harry Potter’ of course. First books, then films. The author is a dick though, we hate her.”

“Why?”

“She is transphobic.” And it occurs to Lando once more then, that there still isn’t a slide about sexuality and identity. So, Oscar probably doesn’t know what the term even means. The puzzling look on his face confirms Lando’s theory. “Transphobic is like… okay, so transgender people change their gender. Like someone who is born as a boy but doesn’t feel comfortable as it would transition into a girl. And when you are transphobic you… well, you are against it. And a dick. Like the author-who-shall-not-be-named.” Lando doesn’t expect Oscar to understand the reference. Yet Oscar nods in understanding. “Huh, didn’t know you could change it. That’s swell.” Lando doesn’t know if that was too much now, doesn’t even know what “swell” means. His face must say the same because Oscar just explains. “Swell is like uhm great, good. Wonderful.” Oscar looks almost shy saying it. Lando smiles gesturing between them. “See? We’re learning from each other!”

Lando turns back to the presentation then. Explaining the difference between ‘vine’, ‘musical.ly’ and ‘Tik Tok’, Oscar looks ready to rejoin Hydra or at least bang his head on the table repeatedly.

---

It started with a knock on his door. Lando, only wearing his pyjama pants with little birds on them, that Alex couldn’t stop laughing at when he had gifted them to him for secret santa, and in the middle of his nightly hair care routine just shouted for the person to come in. The door creaked slowly, revealing Oscar. Oscar in his black joggers, black long-sleeved shirt and, to the surprise of Lando, white socks. A fashion statement, truly. Lando eyes him through the mirror, hands stopping messaging the product into his hair. Oscar looks unsure, almost shy of himself. Like he knows he doesn’t belong but can’t bring himself to leave either. But he stills looks at Lando. Not in his eyes, through the mirror, Lando notices. No, he is looking at Lando, his tan body, his defined back muscles visible, his biceps strained from where he has his arms raised to his head. Lando can see Oscar’s eyes practically mapping him. He shivers under it.

“Hi.” Lando breaks the silence and turns around, moving through his hair once more and wiping the remaining product off his hands with a paper towel. “What’s up?”

This brings Oscar’s eyes back up to Lando’s. The uncertainty latched with something else. Lando doesn’t dare name it. “I uhm…” Oscar starts and fiddles with the sleeve of his left arm. Only now Lando sees that Oscar isn’t wearing his gloves. “I was wondering if you could show me the movie. ‘The Hobbit’? Just if you uhm-” Lando lights up, interrupts him with flailing arms. “OMG, yes of course. It’s six movies by the way, with the ‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy. Like 18 hours but sooo worth it.” He keeps on rambling as he throws over a shirt.

They make their way to the screening room, Oscar following behind Lando like a dog. Funnily enough, the dog tags beneath his shirt rattle with each step. As they reach the door, Lando opens it wide only to be met by George sitting on top of Alex, the two of them thankfully fully clothed but making out like two horny teenagers. Lando slams the door shut immediately, turning around to Oscar. Oscar stares at him blankly. “Do they do that often?” Lando has to think for a moment what exactly Oscar means. If he means the making out. What else could he mean though? He doesn’t seem to have a problem with it… didn’t have a problem finding out about trans people. Perhaps Lando had prejudices against him. Prejudices that were neither fair nor justified. Huh.

“Yeah, don’t sit on the two bottom rows in there. Or the couch in the living room for that matter. Or train after they had a joint session.”

Oscar’s eyes widen with every new place Lando mentions, but still he nods. Doesn’t call them out or insults them. Lando should have known, actually. There was no way Logan would have had an asshole for a best friend. Filing away that information for no reason whatsoever, Lando just brushes past Oscar. “We can just watch it in my room. Kick the two out after the first film.”

So they end up back in Lando’s room. Lando throws himself on his bed, reaching for his laptop and opening it. Oscar stays in the doorframe as if crossing the threshold will burn him like an uninvited vampire. Lando raises an eyebrow at him. “You can come in, make yourself at home.” He pats the spot next to him. Oscar enters the room, closes the door but doesn’t make any move to sit next to Lando. Lando pats the spot once more, like calling a pet. “I don’t bite.” He doesn’t add ‘Only if you want me to.’ and that’s probably for the best. Oscar still doesn’t move, inhales deeply and exhales a bit unevenly.

“It’s uhm… It’s the bed. It’s too…” Lando understands without Oscar having to explain it. He’s had it, Logan’s had it. And Lando can’t imagine what it must be like for Oscar. Coming from a world war into a silent war by Hydra. Frozen when useless, brainwashed when required. Lando had been in Afghanistan for only a year before Max died and Lando quit. And even then it was weird to sleep in his bed again. And Oscar? Lando doesn’t know where he spent the last months since they first saw each other. Doesn’t even know what room Oscar stays in at the compound. Asks himself if Oscar even has a bed in it or if he just sleeps on the floor next to it. Without thinking about it, Lando gets up from the bed, grabs at least the blanket and two pillows in case Oscar doesn’t want to fuck up his back, and settles them on the floor at the foot of his bed. Lando looks up at him, into Oscar’s eyes that seem so soft and almost relieved all of the sudden.

“This better?”

Oscar doesn’t respond, instead settles down next to Lando. They’ve never been this close, is Lando’s first thought. Shoulders brushing, Lando’s knee in his cross-legged position over Oscar’s thigh. His second thought is that Oscar’s metal hand looks polished, shining in the reflection of Lando’s overhead light. It looks oddly and weirdly pretty. It suits Oscar in a fucked up way. He thinks better than to say it. His third thought is that he should probably stop staring at Oscar’s hand and search for the film. He does as much, not daring looking into Oscar’s eyes. That’s how he misses the almost hopeful glint in Oscar’s eyes entirely.

Looking back on it, starting a nearly three hour movie on a day where Lando had three training sessions and some moving stuff for the compound to do might not have been his smartest idea. And so, after about an hour Lando can feel his eyes drop and he practically has to concentrate to even keep them open. Oscar doesn’t notice. Eyes wide at the colourful scenery of ‘Middle-earth’.

It’s really no surprise when Lando wakes up hours later, drool on his cheek, curls messy. What is surprising though, is that he wakes up in his bed. Because he could have sworn he was sitting on the floor, watching a film with… Oscar. Surely. Oscar didn’t like… carry him into bed… did he? Maybe he woke Lando up and Lando got into bed himself or maybe Lando woke up on his own and still half asleep crawled into bed. That wouldn’t explain the cleaned up floor, his shut laptop sitting neatly on his desk. He pushes away the covers and gets up. Showers quickly and puts on his running clothes for his morning run. Running will clear his head. Whatever needs clearing. And if that won’t help, he’ll punch again.

---

Running, in fact, did not help. His thoughts kept drifting to warm brown eyes, metal fingers and the likely possibility that Oscar carried him bridal-style into bed, tucking him in and cleaning up the floor. So, he runs from the entrance straight to the training room. He almost trips when he sees none other than Oscar, with his back to the entrance, almost punching holes into the punching bag. Lando stands there for a moment, watches the back muscles through Oscar’s dark and tight long sleeved shirt strain with his movements. He is wearing the gloves again, black leather hitting the red punching bag. A particular swing sends the bag flying off its hinges and a few meters through the room. Oscar sighs, like this didn’t happen the first time and goes to pick it up. He lifts it like it weighs nothing, which it probably doesn’t for him, and turns around. He freezes in his movement when he spots Lando.

“You know,” Lando starts as he walks to where they keep multiple punching bags hung up next to each other. “We have specialized bags for Logan. Heavier, stronger ones. Max had enough with him, always breaking the others.” He stops next to one, punches it lightly. It doesn’t even butch a millimeter. Without a word, Oscar walks over to Lando, hangs the bag in his hand up and picks up the other, carries it into the middle of the room and hangs it back on the hook. It looked like he was carrying something as light as a carton of milk. Oscar punches the bag once, it tumbles like the normal ones do under Lando’s strength. The room is really warm all of the sudden.

“You wanna spar?” Lando hears himself say before he can stop it. Oscar keeps punching, doesn’t even turn around. “Not a good idea.” Another punch lands. Lando nods, mostly to himself, and walks around the room, so he can see Oscar. Oscar’s eyes keep concentrating on the bag though. “You liked the film?” Lando tries instead, because for some reason, he can’t bring himself to leave. Oscar nods, punches landing hard making the hook rattle. “Yeah uhm…” Punch. “It was really good.” Punch. “Liked the uhm…” Punch. Punch. “The colours.” Punch.

Lando grins at that. “See! I told you, it’s all about coloured films. You’re in for a ride. Wait till we watch ‘La La Land’.” And it’s maybe not the smartest idea to suggest a romantic film, but then it happens. For the first time that Lando gets to witness it, Oscar smiles. “Yeah,” A lighter punch. “You were right.” Teeth poking out between his lips as sweat is only now starting to form on his face. Oscar stops with the punching then, stilling the bag from moving and looks straight into Lando’s eyes again. Lando’s heart skips a beat purely out of shock that he got Mister Iceboy smiling. “Is that an emotion that you are showing there, Mister Piastri?” Lando says with an equally bright smile now. Oscar’s smile widens a bit. It’s beautiful solely for the fact that Oscar can smile again, Lando thinks. No other reason whatsoever. 

“That’s Sergeant Piastri to you.” Oscar turns around, walks to where the wooden training sticks are stashed. Lando would tell him that George is really the only one using them, if Lando’s brain would work at all. But frankly, after that sentence, there is not much going in there. Except for Oscar’s smile, Oscar’s muscles, flesh and metal, as he pushes up his sleeves. Lando wants to rip them off. His brain is only really coming back online when Oscar throws a training stick at him. His smile was transformed into a smirk, eyes piercing through Lando once again.

“Show me what you got, Falcon.” Oscar twirls the stick in his hand, black leather gloves moving elegantly around the light wood. Whenever Lando thinks he has finally figured Oscar out, he does something like this, flirts with him with a grin. He’ll probably never figure him out completely.

Lando mirrors Oscar, spins the stick in his hand before lunching forward, swaying it at Oscar. Oscar, of course, blocks easily. “What changed your mind?” Lando asks in between the sound of wood clicking against each other, his breath becoming heavier again. Oscar uses his stick to draw him forward, spins Lando and almost brings him to the ground. Almost. “Don’t know.” Another click of wood on wood. A beat, where Oscar is looking into his eyes again. Lando can’t stop the words before they fall out of his mouth.

“Did you carry me into bed last night?” Oscar’s gaze darkens, his jaw tightens and he launches forward. But not as strongly or fast as Lando knows he can. He’s clearly holding back. “Wasn’t a big deal.” Oscar simply says. He slaps Lando’s stick out of his hand. Lando doesn’t even try to pick it up, instead relies on his fists, an occasional kick. Oscar only blocks, doesn’t attack.

“You’re holding back.” Lando gets a jab into his ribcage, but Oscar doesn’t move. “Not even using the metal arm.” Oscar’s jaw tightens again. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He simply says and he keeps blocking. Lando goes for his legs. Uses the momentum of the surprise and has Oscar pined to the floor. He grins down at Oscar. “I can take it.” And it’s when Oscar’s eyes darken that Lando realises how that sounded, considering he is all but straddling Oscar right now. He has no chance to stumble over his words trying to take it back, before Oscar uses his legs to turn the position around. Holding Lando’s wrists in his right hand and holding him down at his hip with his leg. “You sure?”

Lando’s face is very hot all of the sudden. It’s not from the double workout, he knows that. They’re very close. Lando can feel Oscar’s breath on his face, can see the golden specks in the brown of his eyes, can hear the beating of his own too fast heartbeat lining up with Oscar’s breathing. It shouldn’t be this hot to be pinned to the ground by a super soldier with one arm. His normal arm too, not even the metal one. But then again Lando is only human. He knows this is dangerous, knows it’s the worst idea on the planet but he wants to see Oscar’s reaction. Before Lando can act on the idea of rolling his hip against Oscar’s muscular thigh, a blinking red light with a blaring sound goes through the room. Mission alert.

Oscar moves off Lando and extends his hand to help him up. Lando takes it without hesitation, the skin on skin contact sending sparks through his body. Oscar does the staring again and for the first time, Lando is scared that Oscar is going to find something. Something that will freak him out. Lando turns away towards the door. But Oscar shouts after him.

“Lando!” Lando turns around halfway out of the room. Oscar has a strange look on his face. One Lando hadn’t seen before. He can’t pinpoint what it is, doesn’t dare hope what it could be. “Don’t die out there.”

Lando just looks at him. There isn’t more he can do. He hears George and Alex from the end of the corridor, turning towards the hanger. Lando jogs up to them. Back in the training room, Oscar lets out a shaky breath.

---

It was a stupid mistake. Lando should have seen the missile flying up to his right, but he was busy shooting at the terror group on the ground, Redwing was busy scanning the building for remaining hostages. The fall itself was short and at the same time felt like a lifetime, till he hit the ground.

Lando wakes up in the hospital wing of the compound two days later. His head hurts like a bitch, as does his torso. His right arm is in a sling. He looks around the room. They’re flowers on the table next to the window. Someone, probably Logan, set up an old record player, country music playing over the constant beeping of the machines. The door opens and Oscar enters. He looks tired, his shoulders hanging low, the circles under his eyes darker than usual. His dog tags are hanging over his grey shirt today, a glove only on his metal hand. But he wears the same black jeans and combat boots as usual. Lando almost wants to smile. Oscar stops when he looks at Lando, eyes wide but tired. Like he’s slept even less than usual.

“You’re awake.” Oscar says, no emotion in his voice. He keeps his distance and stays at the bottom of Lando’s bed. Lando can’t help but grin then. “That or I’ve died and gone to heaven.” That at least gives him a tight lip smile from the man in front of him. “Heaven? Pretty sure this would be hell.” Lando shakes his head at that, which causes more nausea and makes him groan. He closes his eyes so the room stops spinning. Now though, he feels like he is falling out of his bed. A hand, warm and soft, finds his. Lando squeezes it to get a sense of safety, stability. It feels like he is free falling and Oscar’s hand is the only thing grounding him. Oscar squeezes back once and Lando doesn’t know if he is imagining Oscar’s whispers but it sounds an awful lot like “I got you.”

Lando hears the door open again, two pairs of footsteps stepping into the room. Oscar lets go of Lando’s hand with a final squeeze. Slowly, Lando opens his eyes again. Charles is standing next to his bed, Logan stands next to Oscar, sitting on a chair as close to Lando’s bed as possible.

“Welcome back, Norris.” Charles smiles at him, tablet clutched to his chest. “You look better.” Lando scoffs. “Better? Must have looked awful when it happened then.” Which reminds Lando that he has actually no memory of the accident. “What exactly happened?” He looked at Logan then, leaning with crossed arms on Oscar’s chair. “You were flying with Max, following the terror group from above when a missile grazed your right shoulder and wings. They gave out. You were falling too fast, Max couldn’t catch you in time. When he reached you, he put you in the quinjet and Alex flew you back here.”

“He and Oscar treated you till I transformed back and got here.” Charles continues. Lando’s head snaps to Oscar, causing another wave of nausea. Oscar just shakes his head. “I didn’t do anything, that was all Alex.” But his eyes find Lando’s and Lando can now see that behind the fatigue in his eyes lies hurt and fear.

“Trust me, Oscar, you have helped a lot. But,” Lando has to force his eyes off Oscar and set them back on Charles. He is looking at his tablet with a frown. “You have severe head trauma. Dizziness, headaches and short term memory loss will be normal for the next few days, I’m afraid. You have three broken rips, which is a miracle based on the severeness of the impact. That being said, you not only dislocated your shoulder but also tore your infraspinatus and supraspinatus. Meaning lots of physical therapy for you. I have exercises for you to work through. But please don’t do them alone, have someone supervise you.”

Lando raises an eyebrow at him. That’s… alot. “How long?” Is the only thing Lando really cares about right now. Charles takes a deep breath. A good sign, clearly. “Therapy for three months, and then we will see. Take it easy, Lando, please.” He puts a hand on his healthy shoulder. The skin around his eyes is red. “We need you.” Lando nods with a tight lipped smile. He never wanted to scare any of them. Charles nods back. “If you need anything, I’ll be at the compound all week before flying back to the Tower.” He heads for the door but not before turning around one last time. “Max will be around tomorrow. He wants to apologise.” Lando shakes his head, carefully this time. “No need for that. Wasn’t his fault.” Charles just nods and heads out of the door, leaving it a bit open.

Logan breaks the silence by clearing his throat. “Oscar, can you give us a minute?” Oscar stands up, looks at Lando once more before following Charles, closing the door. Logan takes a deep breath like he has to brace himself. “You scared the fucking shit out of us.” Lando raises a playful eyebrow, a grin forming on his face. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Logan rolls his eyes, but he smiles nonetheless. He looks around the room, his eyes catching on the flowers. “Your sister sent these by the way. Told me to tell you to not be an idiot next time.” Lando laughs once, but stops himself, his ribs aching at the movement. “Yeah, that would be Cisca.”

Logan turns back, looks at the now empty chair. “Oscar was here.” Yeah, Lando figured as much. Maybe hoped that Oscar at least checked on him once. Twice, if he was lucky. “Didn’t leave this stupid chair. Sat here for two whole days.” Wait what? Lando sits up a little straighter. Head, ribs and shoulder throbbing with pain. “What do you mean?” Logan looks at him and Lando wants to punch his perfect face with this shit-eating grin. Like Logan knew something not even Lando was sure of. “Oscar was by your side. From when Alex landed with you till you woke up, to come get us. He didn’t leave your side.”

Lando’s heart rate monitor does a double beep. Like his heart rate picked up. Logan notices, of course, and his smile grows. “Well, that says it all.” If Lando had the strength, he would throw a pillow at him. “Just,” Logan starts. “Be careful. The both of you. I don’t want either of you to get hurt.” And this just… if Lando had something in his hands, he’d have dropped it. “What? What are you talking about? Oscar’s not queer.”

“Yes, he is.”

“No, my gaydar is impeccable. He isn’t-”

“Your gaydar was off about me.”

“Yeah, because who would have guessed that Captain America is gay?”

“Not you, apparently.” Logan chuckles and Lando gives him something close to a death glare. It probably doesn’t look as intimidating with a black eye, a sling and multiple machines surrounding him. Logan gets his, what Alex likes to call ‘Cap face’, where he looks all stern and american. There is no other way to put it. “It’s just… I’m not going to give you the shovel-talk or something. But Oscar’s mind is still fragile. He knows it and frankly he is scared of it. This could hurt both of you if it goes wrong.”

Lando can only nod along. He knows it too. He’s seen it in his eyes that night in the kitchen, when Lando had to practically shove the apple in his hands. Realised Oscar was still haunted when he couldn’t even sit on his bed. He felt it when he held back in sparring. Lando isn’t stupid, he knows it’s a terrible idea. He sighs, looks up at Logan who looks at him with so much pity, it can’t only be about his injuries. “I know, Cap. I wouldn’t dare hurt him.” Logan gives him an almost timid smile. “Neither would he.” He pushes himself off the chair he’d been leaning on. “Get some rest.” And with that Logan heads for the door, closing it behind him again. Lando can’t help but look at the empty chair next to him and feel a sense of helplessness.

---

The week that Charles keeps Lando in the hospital wing goes by in a blur. He fades between reality and dreamland due to medicine, nausea and overall fatigue from his injuries. Max comes in like Charles had said, apologising for not being able to catch Lando with what looks close to tears. Lando tells him in a tired voice that he doesn’t blame him, he should have seen the missile. Max stays all day and tells him about the Spider-Kid like a proud dad.

Alex and George come in with games to play, candy to eat and fresh gossip. “I’m pretty sure,” Alex says around a mouthful of twinkies, sitting at the foot of Lando’s bed. “that Mark and Sebastian have something going on.” Lando stops his search for a kinder in the bowl of treats. “What? Tic-tac and… what’s Mark called again?” He looks at George on the chair next to the bed, his legs resting on Alex’s lap, who unwraps a sherbet lemon. How he can like those, Lando will never understand. “Pretty sure it’s ‘Wasp’.” Lando coos at that. “Ant-Man and the Wasp. A love story.” That gets him a laugh from Alex, George chuckles around his bonbon. George, playing with the wrapping paper, mumbles, “They do it like bunnies though.” And this erupts a laugh flash from both Alex and Lando. The difference is that Lando’s laugh quickly evolves into a coughing-fit which makes him wince in pain, blood coming out of his mouth and nose. Alex and George quickly get up. George hands him a cup of water while Alex goes to find Charles. It takes a moment for Lando to calm down again, George soothing him and wiping the blood off his face. Lando takes a sip of the water, when Alex storms in again, Charles following behind. And Oscar behind Charles.

Lando doesn’t have time to analyse why exactly Oscar is here, when Charles checks his blood pressure, temperature and holds a stethoscope to Lando’s chest. Lando breaths as deeply as he can, all while looking at Oscar. He just stands there, in the middle of the room like he doesn’t know what to do. He looks a bit out of place, with his tired eyes, slightly messy hair, his clothes rumpled. He is wearing a t-shirt, his metal arm on full display. Lando feels the need to trace the dark lines on the silver metal. Charles retrieves the stethoscope again, hanging it around his neck. “Coughing up blood is not unusual. You are stable, so don’t worry.” He types something on his tablet. Lando’s eyes are still on Oscar. Oscar’s on him. “You did your breathing exercise today?”

Lando tears his eyes from Oscar and looks at Charles. “Yeah.” His voice is hoarse, his throat aches from it. He can still taste the blood in his mouth. He takes the cup from George’s hand and takes another sip, emptying it. He hands it back to George, who heads towards the ensuite bathroom to fill it up. Charles nods.

“That is good. You tell me when something is too much, yes? But so far, I’d say it looks good. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.” Lando gives him a tired smile. Charles gives him one back. “You should rest today though. No more sweets.” Charles takes the bowl, but grabs a kinder out of it and hands it to Lando. Lando smiles widely at that. Charles, with the bowl and tablet in his hands, motions for Alex and George to follow him, George sets the cup of water on Lando’s nightstand. Lando mouths a silent thank you. In the corner of his eyes he sees Charles mumbling something to Oscar. They all leave. All but Oscar. Who still stands in the middle of the room. His dog tags hang over his shirt again. They glint in the setting sun shining through the window. His metal hand reflects a bit of the light too.

“You good?” Lando asks with a tired smile. Charles must have increased his morphine, because he feels himself drifting off. Oscar nods. Still no emotion on his face. Lando feels high enough to tease him about it. “Tell that to your face, Mister Iceboy.” And because he feels extra funny today, he adds, “Sorry. Sergeant Iceboy.” And that finally gets a chuckle out of Oscar. Lando’s smile widens, his eyes falling shut more often. Oscar moves to the chair, pulls it closer to Lando’s bed. Without thinking about it, because his head is feeling perfectly hazy right now, he grabs Oscar’s metal hand. Oscar flinches, but he doesn’t pull back. Instead he watches Lando trace the lines on his fingers where the metal connects. Lando moves his finger higher up, over the wrist and forearm through the crease of the elbow and to the biceps. He looks up into Oscar’s eyes through his lashes then. They are warm, kind. And yet there is something dark in them. Lando gets chills from his hairline to his toes. He focuses back on the cold metal under his fingertip, moves his way up to the shoulder where the red star is, pushing the short sleeve up. He traces the points of the star.

“Why a red star?” Lando whispers into the quiet. He feels like the answer is obvious but he can’t think of it. He feels his eyelids drop again. He looks up at Oscar again. “Soviet Union.” He simply says. Lando nods. It doesn’t make much sense to him right now. His finger traces over Oscar’s shoulder. Through the fabric of his t-shirt, he can still feel endless scars, connecting the metal to Oscar’s body. His flesh is soft and it’s such a vast difference that Lando gasps. His finger keeps tracing, the t-shirt hanging loose on Oscar’s body. He catches the dog tags hanging from Oscar’s neck, the two plates clinging against each other, sounding almost like a wind chime. He fiddles with the tags, reads what is stamped into them. He chuckles and slurs his next words. “What does the ‘J’ stand for?” Oscar smiles, a full teeth smile. Lando has never felt this lucky. His head feels light, he can’t feel the pain throbbing in his head and shoulder anymore and Oscar is smiling at him. Lando doesn’t know if Oscar actually answers, as he drifts asleep. He feels pressure on his forehead, as if someone kissed him there, but it feels so far away, he must have been dreaming.

---

Lando had never been injured this badly. Meaning, he never had to undergo physical therapy on a level like this. Charles’ plan had him start off easy. Breathing exercises and easy motions for his shoulder. He still wasn’t allowed to even lift his right arm though. It took a few weeks till he was allowed some light cardio training and even longer till he could do push-ups again. Two months after the accident he was finally allowed to do some sparring, Logan keeping a close eye on him as Alex is standing across from him. Lando hated how long it took him to gain an advantage on him. Usually he could beat Alex easily in hand to hand combat, but Lando can already feel the aching in his shoulder and the shortness of his breaths. Logan ends the session after only ten minutes.

It feels frustrating, not knowing when he will be fit again. Because he feels fine, strong. And then he goes to the training room and has to sit down after ten minutes of light boxing. At least Logan lets him train on his own again. But Lando knows he probably has George and Alex spy on him via the security cameras. He takes another deep breath, another gulp of his water and stands up again. The boxing gloves on his hands become heavier with every punch, but he fights through it. He punches harder. To let out his frustrations. With himself, his stupid shoulder, the unnecessary accident and this ache in his body that just doesn’t go away. It’s not pain. Lando knows pain, this is something else. Something tearing in him for weeks. Maybe it’s the need to fly again. He hasn’t been in the air since the accident and he misses it. The freedom, the lightness. He wants to feel light again.

The last time he felt light was when he was still in the hospital bed. He doesn’t remember his week there, not really. His head injury paired with the strong medication Charles gave him made him only remember glimpses. George and Alex laughing with him, Logan talking to him, Charles and Max checking on him and Oscar. Oscar who was there everyday. Oscar who hasn’t been around in weeks. He’s still in the compound but he is not there. Not with Lando. Since Lando’s therapy program started, Oscar hasn’t been with him. Lando can’t explain why. Maybe that’s what all the frustration is really about. Not knowing why Oscar is absent. Or maybe it’s just Oscar’s absence in general.

The next punch sets a jolt of pain through his shoulder. Lando hisses and crouches over, strips the boxing gloves off his hands and holds his shoulder with his left hand. He hears steps coming towards them. Dull sounds on the floor.

“You okay?” The voice makes him look up, only to stare into those warm brown eyes. Oscar looks concerned, almost like he cared about Lando again. Lando straightens up, massages his shoulder once and rolls it. He hopes the pain isn’t evident on his face.

“Yeah,” Lando finally says after swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. And then adds, because he has no idea what to say and is an idiot according to George, “You?” Oscar’s eyes widen the tiniest fraction. Lando only sees it because they’re standing closer than what would be adequate. Oscar nods, his eyes never leaving Lando’s. They are full of concern, pity even. Lando hates how that makes him feel warm. Hates how that ache in his body grows more intense when Oscar’s eyes flick to his lips. It’s way too warm in that room, Lando has to tell Max.

“Cap said, you’re doing well.” Oscar’s eyes are back on Lando’s. Lando can only nod, the proximity too much. Oscar nods too. Why, Lando isn’t sure. It’s not like he couldn’t have seen for himself how Lando is doing. If he was only there, around. With Lando.

“You want some help?”

Lando wants to tell him to fuck off, to go back where he was the past weeks and let him to do it on his own. But Oscar has that look in his eyes. The same look he had when he asked Lando to watch ‘The Hobbit’. The almost shy, afraid to not fit in but really wanting to look. And maybe, just maybe, Lando is not delusional and there is something else in there too. Hope, that Lando won’t say no. That Lando isn’t afraid of him. And how ironic it is that Oscar, of all people, asks if someone wants help. Oscar who probably wanted to ask for help all those years at Hydra and knew he wouldn’t get any. Just another round in the brainwashing-machine. So Lando nods, because he has a feeling that this is also a way to help Oscar. To show him that Lando trusts him enough in that vulnerable state that he is in, to let Oscar in.

They do some very light sparring. Lando, who has even less strength after his first set, and Oscar, who is holding back even more than before. But Lando is frustrated and has had enough of his stupid shoulder. So he lunches forward with his right arm a little too hard. He hisses in pain and his legs give out, making him tumble on the training mat. He holds his shoulder, massaging the aching muscle once again but to avail, as he sits himself criss-crossed. Oscar is by his side immediately. His hands hover over Lando’s body, like is not sure how far he is allowed to go. Lando keeps on digging his fingers into his shoulder.

“May I?” Oscar whispers over the quiet of the room. It sounds small, uncertain and almost nervous. Lando doesn’t really understand what he means. Until Oscar situates himself behind Lando and carefully takes Lando’s hand off his shoulder. Hovering over Lando, he gently places it in Lando’s lap. And then Lando feels warm fingers working over his shoulder. It still hurts, but a good kind of pain. Like how your muscles feel after an intense workout, or how hot water prickles your skin in the shower.

Lando feels his breath hitch. It’s not from the massaging itself but the warmth of Oscar’s hand. Sometimes Lando wonders if Oscar keeps his right hand so warm on purpose to balance out the coldness of the metal hand. He has to suppress a moan, when Oscar works over the spot that always hurts the most. Surely, Oscar wouldn’t put it past him. If anyone knows pain, it’s Oscar. But Lando fears how exactly the noises that want to escape him would sound. Lando would call them borderline pornographic. He can’t be blamed when he has a hundred year old super soldier massaging his shoulder. He does, however, hiss when he feels a sudden coldness on his skin.

“Sorry.” Oscar whispers and retrieves his metal hand. Lando misses it immediately. “No,” he starts, maybe a bit too enthusiastic, “keep going.” And when Oscar’s cold hand returns, he can no longer suppress a moan. “Good?” And Lando can just hear the grin in Oscar’s voice. But he is too weak to throw something back. So he nods, and tries to think of George eating corn to will away the situation in his pants. But Oscar’s fingers dig a little stronger and Lando whimpers. He can’t believe it himself. He can hear Oscar chuckle, as much as he can feel it. Oscar’s body shaking behind his. When did they get that close?

“Shut up.” Lando can say, before he moans again. Oscar, the bastard, chuckles again and leans forward. His lips brushing Lando’s ear. “You want me to stop?” Lando doesn’t have the time to dwell on how sexual his voice sounded. He shakes his head, closes his eyes and dips his head back. It lands on Oscar’s metal shoulder. “Don’t stop.”

Lando opens his eyes again to see Oscar already looking at him. He is so close. And it would be so easy to just-

“I’m cleared for missions.” Oscar says, his hands never stopping, his eyes never leaving Lando. Lando sits up again, turns around and has to concentrate so hard not to whine at the loss of contact to Oscar’s fingers.

“What?”

Oscar plays around with the leg of his pants. “I told Logan I’m ready. Charles did all sorts of tests and said the same. Logan made me fight him, no holding back, to prove it.” Oscar chuckles at the memory. “He won, barely, but apparently he was satisfied.”

Lando doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he should be jumping up and down from joy or scream at him. “Thought you wanted to stay out for a while longer.” That’s when Oscar breaks eye contact. He sets his eye on Lando’s shoulder. “I can’t help you guys back here. I can’t-”

Oscar huffs, frustrated with something, probably himself. When he sets his eyes back on Lando, Lando almost gasps. Oscar’s wonderful, magnificent warm brown eyes are starting to fill up with tears. He licks his lips and exhales shakingly. “I can’t lose you.” It comes out as a whisper. As if he was scared to admit it. As if whispering it would be keeping it a secret. Lando takes Oscar’s hands in his. Warm and cold. Skin and metal. Lando can’t feel a difference. He wants to say something, wants to reassure Oscar or something. But Oscar continues.

“When Alex came in with you, unconscious, bleeding, I… I thought…” Lando squeezes his hands. “I can’t do anything from here. And I’m tired of just sitting around while you put yourself in danger. I’m… good. My mind, it’s…” He struggles to say it. To admit that he might not be completely stable but at least he is free of Hydra. Lando squeezes his hands again.

“Well,” Lando starts with a grin, “we’re gonna be one heck of a team.”

Lando gets the single greatest thing back that he could possibly ask for. A smile from Oscar.

---

The mission alarm comes in the middle of the night. Lando shrieks up, fight mode on. He throws on his shirt and pants for underneath his gear and stumbles out of his room while still trying to put on the pants. A few doors down the hall, George and Alex emerge from the latter’s room in a similar haste. They sprint down the corridors to the hanger. Charles is already in the quinjet. And just as Lando opens his locker to put on his gear, a hand grabs his shoulder. The better shoulder, that is. Lando turns around and looks into the piercing blue eyes of Logan. His face already tells Lando that he is not here for his typical pre-mission pep talk.

“Sit this one out, yeah?” He squeezes Lando’s shoulder and heads for the jet. Lando blinks once. Only then it catches up to him. “Cap!” He calls out and sprints after him, up the ramp. “Cap, I’m ready. I promise.” He smiles to really sell it, even though he is sure his pants are inside-out. Logan turns his head to Charles, who is sitting in the cockpit, making last minute adjustments. “Charles? Your expertise?” Charles turns around with an apologetic smile. Lando’s heart falls to his stomach. “Give your shoulder one more week. And then we will test it.” He turns back around. Logan gives him a soft smile, that reeks of pity. All Lando can do is turn around and leave the jet again. He pushes between George and Alex, now in full gear, and almost crashes straight into Oscar. Oscar, who is also in full gear. New gear, that is. His gear is all black, with the Avengers logo on his left chest. Multiple guns are strapped to his torso and legs. On his hands his typical black gloves. He looks like always, and yet so very different. It pains Lando. That he can’t be there with Oscar, on his first mission as an Avenger.

“Don’t die out there.” With that Lando brushes past him and heads back to bed.

---

He doesn’t remember how he got here. All he knows is that there is a gun in his hand and a body on the floor. Oscar drops the gun and looks around. But he is alone in the dark room. When his eyes fall on the body in front of him again, he is looking in the eyes of a familiar face.

“Logan!” Oscar kneels by his side, trying to stop the bleeding from his chest. Logan grabs Oscar’s hands. “I trusted you.” He says weakly, his voice shaking. Blood spills from his mouth with every word. “We all did.” Logan’s eyes wander past him. Oscar follows his gaze. His heart stops. George and Alex lie side by side, their eyes blank. Charles lies a little further away, Max behind him. Their blood is pooling together on the floor. Oscar’s breath catches in his throat.

“You did this.” Logan continues. With teary eyes Oscar looks back on the person he’s known all his life. Bleeding out because of him. “You thought you changed?” His voice is full of venom now. “You thought you could be good? Look around. You’ll always be their monster. You’ll never escape who you really are. A killer.” With a final inhale Logan’s grip on Oscar loosens, his hand falling limp to the side.

Oscar stands back up, backing up till his back hits the wall. Logan’s blood is clinging to his hands. It aches.

“Oscar?” A soft voice calls from the darkness. A voice he’ll always recognize. He follows it into the void and ends up in the training room of the compound. There Lando stands behind the punching bag. But something is off. He moves around the bag hanging from the ceiling and there it is. Lando’s right arm is missing, blood spilling from the wound at what is left of his shoulder. “Why didn’t you stop this? I thought we were a team” Before Oscar can answer, he is back in the room of his nightmares. Where he always ends up every night. The room with the machine that erased his memories day after day. That send shocks to his body to make him obey. But now it’s Lando sitting in it. Lando who doesn’t even scream. A metal arm has replaced his right one. Oscar wants to tear him from the machine, but arms are holding him back.

“Убейте его.” A hard voice calls behind him. A voice he’ll never forget. The arms around loosen their grips on him. Without hesitating Oscar draws a gun from his thigh holster and shoots Lando blank in the head, like ordered.

Oscar wakes up drenched in sweat. He sits up, his blanket pooling on his hip. This isn’t the first time he’s had a nightmare with the others in it. But the first time that he  was the one that killed them. He knew it was too soon to get back on the field. Heck, Logan and Charles knew it was too soon. But he couldn’t sit around while the others risked their lives over and over again.

He gets up from the floor. In a rush he packs his things, slips a note through the crack to Logan’s bedroom and leaves. They’re safer without him.

---

Lando should have been suspicious when Logan called an impromptu team meeting. And he should have been even more suspicious when he entered the room and there was no sight of Oscar. But he was still a little mad about the whole being benched thing. So with a huff, he let himself fall in his typical chair near the coffee machine, ready to only half listen to whatever inspired this. Probably another issue that needs fixing on the compound premises. Alex and George sat across from him, bickering about one thing or another.

“Oscar left this morning.”

Lando looks up from where he had been pointedly not looking at Logan at the far end of the table. Alex and George stop their hushed voices. Charles looks up from his notes. Logan avoids all of their gazes though.

“He left me a letter, explaining everything. He-”

“Where is he?” Lando can’t stop the words before they slip out. All eyes set on him. There is pity in all of them. Logan takes a deep breath. “I don’t know.” Lando scoffs. “Bullshit. Why wouldn’t he tell you? Why did he just leave?” Lando hates how his voice is starting to shake. Charles puts a hand over his but Lando shoves it away and stands up. He can’t sit still anymore.

“Lando, I get why you’re upset. But believe me when I say that I have no idea where he is or how to reach him. If I could, I’d already be on my way.”

And now this Lando believes. Without another word he leaves the room. He doesn’t really know where he is going, till he stands in front of Oscar’s closed door. His hand hesitates around the door knob. Lando doesn’t know if he is more scared to find it completely empty or to find that nothing is missing at all. When he finally twists it, his heart skips a beat. Slowly he pushes it open. The furniture is still there. But there is no sign that someone has ever lived here. The bed is made perfectly, the drapes hang flawlessly, the shelves and the desk are empty. Even the ensuite bathroom is spotlessly clean. Oscar is gone. Like a ghost he vanished and left behind a void in his heart that will haunt Lando forever.

---

It’s been a while since Lando had been back in Europe. Ever since he became an Avenger, he didn’t really have the time for it. Visits to his family became rarer, and then his sister moved to Louisiana with her husband. So, at least Cisca was on the same side of the ocean. And even though he was in Europe, he wasn’t in the UK, but on a stake-out in a musty flat in the center of Prague. He had been overviewing the building across the street for two weeks now. Every once in a while there were some sketchy men making some sketchy deals, but nothing of interest to the Avengers. That was until yesterday, when a couple of even sketchier men carried metal boxes into the building. Lando led Redwing in cloak-mode run a scan. Several guns and grenades.

“Finally.”

Lando sent Cap a signal and now, after two weeks of doing nothing but sitting around and waiting, Lando was finally in gear again, earpiece connected to Logan, Alex and George.

“All in position?” Logan asks over the comms. Alex and George answer, Lando does too with a smile on his face, looking down on the streets from his spot on the rooftop. “Ready.” And then everything happens quickly. The first explosion down the street. Lando flying down, Alex shooting arrows from his hiding spot a few stories up, George kicking ass as usual and Logan manoeuvring his shield like it’s part of his body.

It was a mission like any other. Till Lando caught a glimpse of him. The person that has been haunting him for the past year. That was only there for such a small period of time. Lando has missed Oscar longer than he has known him. And yet, he could never quite let go. He could never quite forget the stares, the lingering touches, the whispers. It all came crushing down at him at once, when he knocked out a perp and with that cleared the way to lock eyes with Oscar. Across all the chaos and all the noise and after all this time, it was natural to find those eyes meters apart. Lando can see the exact moment that Oscar recognizes him. Because that is exactly when he turns the other and runs. Between people and cars.

Lando looks back to where the others are still fighting. It’s only two guys left. One gets an arrow to the arm and then a punch from Cap and the other gets widow bites from George. “There is one more down the street,” Lando shouts. “I’ll take him.” And with that he takes off. It takes him a few minutes and redwings help to track Oscar. He isn’t running anymore. But he wears a hood low in his face, his steps quick and determined. He heads into a narrow alley. A dead end. Lando dives down and lands behind Oscar, turning off his mic on comms. Oscar doesn’t turn around. He keeps his hands in the pocket of his dark hoodie. He is still wearing those black jeans and thick combat boots.

“You know, I thought about this for a year,” Lando starts, because he can’t stand the silence anymore. “and I don’t even know what to say.” Oscar turns around then. And Lando’s breath catches. The dark circles under his eyes are prominent. But his eyes, his eyes are as warm as they were a year ago. His lips are chapped. Lando can’t stop looking at them. They start moving.

“How are you?” Oscar’s voice is quiet. He isn’t whispering, but rather careful. As if he fears he could spook Lando if he spoke too loud. Lando wants to punch him. Really hard. He probably wouldn’t even tumble. The desire was still there. But he represses it, only scoffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Good. You?”

Oscar does the staring thing again. And Lando hates how much he missed it. Those piercing eyes looking through his like a window into his soul. He is scared what Oscar might be able to read in him.

“Good.” He says in that silent voice again.

“You’ve been in Prague the whole time?”

Oscar shakes his head.

“You staying here?”

Oscar shakes his head.

“Does Logan know you are here?”

Oscar shakes his head. Lando feels like smashing his head in the brick wall next to him.

“Did he ever know where you were?”

Oscar nods his head.

Lando feels like he did at the start of their relationship. How Oscar wouldn’t speak until completely necessary. He wonders how long it will take them to get back to that. He won’t be able to find out, because Logan is in his ear. “Lando? We’re ready to go.” Lando turns his mic back on. For a second, he sees something hush over Oscar’s face. His eyes widen the tiniest fraction, his eyebrows jump a millimetre closer to his hairline. “Copy, Cap.” Oscar’s face relaxes. Anyone wouldn’t have seen it. But Lando has been seeing his face everyday for the past year. When he closed his eyes, when he fell asleep, when he had a free hour and searched the internet for any clue on where he might be. Only to find out that Logan knew. Not always, but sometimes. To think that Lanod had spent the past two weeks in Prague with Oscar possibly walking below his window sends a shiver down his spine. Without another word, Lando opens his wings and takes off. Oscar, down on the floor, can only watch Lando fly away. He tells himself it’s better this way.

---

It started with a phone call from Max. Well, technically Charles, since Max got hauled up in space somehow. So Charles made the call. And that’s how the Cap Squad is on their way to save the world once again, after collecting Pierre and Yuki in Edinburgh and Charles from New York. Yuki, who is phasing and keeps holding the mindstone on his forehead. Pierre holds onto his arm, like he could take his pain somehow. Lando’s heart breaks as he looks behind him from his space in the cockpit. Logan appears in his line of Vision and Lando’s eyes focus back on the sky ahead. “Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0.”

“I hope you’re right about this.” Lando responds as he adjusts his route. “Or we’re gonna land a lot faster than you want to.” Logan gives him a chuckle. But Lando can hear how tense the Captain is. It’s not like it’s unjustified. 

On the phone, Charles couldn’t get a straight sentence out. Only ‘Find Yuki and Pierre. They can’t get Yuki’s stone.’ Lando had looked to Logan for an explanation, but not even Logan knew what was going on. When they returned to New York with Yuki and Pierre, Charles was distraught. Max, Spider-Man and Doctor Strange, whoever that was, were not on earth anymore. He told them about Thanos, how he is collecting all six infinity stones (because apparently that’s a thing) and won’t stop. That he’ll come for Yuki too. So, they have to take out the stone. Logan came up with an idea on who might be able to do it.

And now, they are flying through the barriers of the most protected country on the planet. Lando’s eyes widen at the skyline of Wakanda, the forest hiding it away and the grand statue of a black panther acting almost like a guard. “You ever gonna tell me how you have the coordinates to Wakanda?” Logan chuckles again, this time a bit lighter. “You’ll see.”

Lando landed the jet safely, the Dora Milaje, the guards of Wakanda, awaiting them, alongside King Lewis, better known as the Black Panther. Charles leans over to him, as they leave the jet behind Logan, Alex, George, Yuki and Pierre. “Should we bow?” Lando grins. If there is one thing that he knows about Wakanda and the King, it’s that their idea of monarchy is in no way comparable with that of western countries. But he is nervous about this whole idea and could use a laugh. “Yeah, he’s a king.” So as Logan extends a hand to Lewis, thanking him, Charles bows while clearing his throat. A few of the Dora Milaje grin, Lewis immediately shakes his head. “We don’t do that here. But I am flattered.” He turns around, as Charles gives Lando a deadpan look. Lando smiles at him innocently.

Lando falls behind as Charles explains just what exactly should be expected. He takes in the scenery of the country. He’s never been, heck, he might be the first Brit to even set foot in this country, next to Alex and George of course. It’s impressive. The sturdy walls of the buildings, no doubt forged from vibranium. What Lando would give for a set of vibranium wings. His attention gets pulled back to the conversation, when King Lewis lists the protection that Wakanda can offer.

“You’ll have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and…” He trails off. Between the Dora Milaje a man, with thick boots, leather gear and a metal arm appears. “And a semi-stable 100-year-old man.” Oscar smiles as he continues King Lewis’ list. Lando stops in his tracks. Oscar looks… happy. His smile seems genuine, his hair has gotten longer. And his metal arm is different. It’s no longer the one he got from Hydra. This arm is black with golden lines, no doubt vibranium as well. He embraces Logan in a hug. When they part, Oscar’s eyes land on Lando. Lando’s breath catches. Oscar’s smile changes, it somehow becomes softer. It tears something in Lando’s chest. He looks so different from the last time he’s seen him, healthier, better. More like himself. Or who Lando always thought he was. The only thing that doesn’t fit in that picture is the rifle in his hands.

“Oscar and Lando, you keep guard here. We’ll go to the lap.” Logan announces. Before he leaves through the doors of the palace with the rest, Lando swears he sees a sly grin with a wink on his face. And then it’s just them.

“You look good.” Oscar says, that smile still on his face. Lando wants to scoff, to ask him how dare he pretend that nothing happened. But he can’t. He can only smile back. “Yeah, well, it’s only the end of the world, right?” Oscar chuckles at that and for a moment, Lando is brought back to three years ago. When it was just them in the kitchen, in his room, in the training room. Before Oscar messed it all up by leaving. Then again, he had a good enough reason. “You also look good.” Lando says with sweaty hands. He wishes he could blame it on the coming fight. “Really good.” He adds under his breath. Any normal human wouldn’t have heard it. But Oscar and his enhanced senses picked it up. His face shifts. The smile is still there but his eyes, those magnificent eyes, become softer, his pupils widening. And before Lando can mentally prepare himself, Oscar puts his arms around him, rifle held with one hand. Lando hugs him back, breathes him in. He smells different than three years ago, more earthly, natural. After a silent moment, Lando’s breath is back to normal. “I like the new arm.” He can feel Oscar chuckle against his chest as much as he can hear it behind his ear. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah,” Lando pulls back and grabs said metal arm, tracing the golden lines. “Seems much more like you.” When Lando looks up, Oscar’s eyes are already on his. The softness was still there, but something else as well. Lando is too scared to find out what it means.

“How long have you been here?”

The look in Oscar’s eyes doesn’t change. But the corners of his mouth drop the tiniest bit. “Shortly after Prague. I didn’t wanna run anymore. Logan suggested coming back here.”

“Back?”

Oscar swallowed once. “After the warehouse, when we fought… Logan sent me here. He said that the Wakandans had the best chance to help me. And they did. So when I didn’t know where to go anymore, Logan spoke to Lewis and he invited me back.”

Something stings in Lando’s chest. That he didn’t know, or maybe that Logan did know and just never told him. He opens his mouth to say something, when he hears a distant sound. Oscar must have heard it too, because he draws his arm back from Lando’s grasp and holds his rifle battle ready up to the sky. A large object that Lando couldn’t identify if he tried comes flying down on them. But as it reaches the dome-shaped barrier, it breaks apart in an explosion and not a fragment rains down on them. Oscar relaxes again. “God, I love this place.”

---

But of course it doesn’t stay that easy. And not even Daniel returning, after being on Asgard for three years, with a talking raccoon and tree (Lando isn’t questioning either of those things, because he is currently shooting down on an alien army) could stop the eight feet tall, purple titan.

Lando lies on the ground. A few feet away from Oscar when a deafening sound erupts through the woods and sends a chill down his spine. The next thing he knows is that his hands turn to dust. And then he is gone. Just like that. He doesn’t even feel anything.

---

As quickly as Lando disappeared, he materialised again. He can’t explain exactly what just happened, but when he stands up, holding his side where he had landed after Thanos used the blue stone on him, Oscar is already at his side. “You okay?” Oscar’s hands cradle his face. Lando nods, grabs Oscar’s hand and pulls their foreheads together. What the fuck just happened? One moment the purple alien throws him through the forest, Logan going for another attack. Lando remembers Daniel throwing his axe at Thanos. And then… Lando pulls away from Oscar and looks around. Thanos is gone. So are Daniel, Logan, George, Alex and Charles. Pierre stands up from behind some bushes with tears streaming down his cheeks. Lewis is by his side, wiping away blood from Pierre’s forehead. The talking tree steps up beside them.

“Where is everyone?” Lando asks as Lewis and Pierre come limping towards them. Lewis looks around then. A frown crawls on the king’s face. He opens his mouth to speak but a mystical buzzing interrupts him. They turn towards the direction of the sound. Orange sparks appear in the air in front of them. They form a circle, a portal, and out steps a man in a red cloak. “My name is Doctor Fernando Strange. It’s been five years since the battle against Thanos, the Avengers need our help.”

He explains what exactly Thanos did. Exactly what he said he was going to do. Wipe out fifty percent of all living creatures. Unfortunately they were part of that fifty percent. But the Avengers found a way to bring them back. And somehow brought Thanos from a different time line with them, so they have to get battle ready again. All of the sudden, the talking tree next to Lando doesn’t seem so weird anymore.

And then everything happens so fast. They emerge from the portals, fight an alien army (again) and… win. But not without sacrifices. Lando had been wondering where George was during the battle. It’s not until after, around the debris of the compound, when he reunites with Logan and Alex that Alex sobs into his shoulder. Lando feels flattered for a second, that Alex would cry because he is back. And then Lando asks where George is.

Alex, through tears and sobs, explains the concept of Vormir. How one person has to be sacrificed for the stone. A soul for a soul. Alex tells him how George and him had been fighting and crying and how George had tricked him and then jumped off the cliff. Lando could only hold him as he continued sobbing into his shoulder. His eyes landed on Max.

Max’s lifeless body, the stones still fused with his suit on his right hand. Charles still kneels next to him, Max’s other hand in his. The Spider-Kid, Kimi as he had proudly introduced himself on the battlefield before everything went to shit, sits with them on the floor. Logan has a hand on Charles’ shoulder to ground him. But Logan seems just as much out of it.

Lando can’t comprehend it yet. In the span of, to him, a little over an hour, he has lost five years of time and two friends. And yet they saved the world. The universe, even. Whatever it takes, Alex keeps mumbling.

---

A few days after Max’s funeral, Logan suits up once again to return the stone to their original timeline. Because of course. They stand in the forest, near where the Avengers compound once was. Charles hands Logan the case with the stones, reminding him that he has to return them at the exact second, they were taken. “You know if you want,” Lando starts as he walks with Logan to the makeshift time machine. Again, Lando isn’t thinking about it too hard or his head will explode. “I could come with you.” Logan stops in his tracks and turns to Lando. He gets his old man look, as Lando likes to call it. The look that your grandpa gives you, when you explain new technology to him and he is all proud of how much you know of the world. It’s these moments where Lando is reminded of Logan’s actual age.

“You’re a good man, Lando.” He sounds so righteous when he says it. “This one’s on me though.”

Logan moves towards Oscar. Lando isn’t trying to pry on the conversation, but to him, it seems like a goodbye. A farewell. Lando frowns. He thought this was only going to take a few minutes tops. It’s time traveling after all. Charles confirms Lando’s thoughts, when he asks him. So when Logan steps on the platform with the case in one hand and Mjölnir in the other, Lando stays calm as the portal opens and swallows him. Time travel. Sure. Oscar next to him watches with similar ease. Though his shoulders tense once Logan is gone.

Lando gets nervous however, when Logan isn’t reappearing after Charles’ countdown. Frantically Charles checks the screens in front of him. Lando watches Charles fuzz around, press buttons but nothing happens. Oscar turns away from him and walks towards the water. But Lando doesn’t have time for it.

“Charles, get him back.”

“I’m trying, Lando.”

“Get him the hell back!”

Charles huffs before he answers, “I said I’m trying.” Lando wants to raise his voice and scream at him and shake him. Oscar’s voice calling his name prevents him from that. He walks up to Oscar and follows his eyes. There on a bench, overlooking the water sits a man with greyish-blond hair. “Go ahead.” Oscar says as he nudges his shoulder. Surely it isn’t… it can’t be…

Lando turns his head to Oscar and Oscar meets his eyes. They are full of so many unsaid things. But the most important thing that Lando sees is trust. So with a frown still on his face, Lando walks up to the bench. With every step he takes he becomes more sure of who sits on the bench.

“Cap?”

Logan turns to him, with wrinkles and age spots on his face. He is still incredibly fit, shoulders broad, but his posture is a little slumped. There is a smile on his face. “Hi, Lando.” Lando has to start smiling too, he can’t help it. Logan just looks so content. “So,” Lando starts, “did something go wrong or did something go right?”

“I thought, after I put the stones back, I’ll live the life I always wanted to live. A normal one.” He looks back on the water, the smile turning softer. “It was beautiful.”

“I’m happy for you.” Lando says and means it with his entire being. He’s seen Logan fight, punch, receive punches himself and get back up. He’s happy that Cap could finally lay down the shield and be only Logan again. And still… “Only thing bumming me out is the fact I have to live in a world without Captain America.” He says it with a grin. But Steve gets that look again. He grabs a bag next to him that Lando had failed to see from his angle. “That reminds me.” Logan simply says and unzips the bag, revealing the shield. His shield. The red, white and blue shield with the silver in the middle. His hand moves over the edge once, before he looks at Lando with a determined look in his eyes. “Try it on.”

Logan had gone mad. No way would he mean what Lando thinks he means. He looks over to Oscar, thinking he’ll find a frown, a questioning look on his face. But no, Oscar looks at him with pride, trust. It is then that Lando remembers Oscar is also an old man who is probably just as mad as Logan. Nevertheless, he picks up the shield and puts his arm through the leather straps.

“How does it feel?” Logan asks and for a moment Lando has no answer. Because it feels wrong. Sure, he held it a number of times over the past years. In battle to throw it back to Logan or at parties to make fun of Logan mostly. But now, in this scenario?

“Like it’s someone else’s.” Is the closest he can get to describe the feeling. But Logan looks down at the shield and back up into Lando’s eyes. He sounds the most sincere Lando has ever heard him when he answers, “It isn’t.”

It hits Lando then. That the world needs Captain America. And if Logan thinks he can do it, he will be able to do it. There is no way he will let him down. “Thank you.” Lando has to try his best not to start crying. “I’ll do my best.”

Logan extends his hand and Lando grabs it, sorta like an official handover. “That’s why it’s yours.

When he walks away from the bench, Logan still sitting there, his eyes not leaving the water, Oscar is not in his spot anymore. For a second Lando isn’t even surprised. He didn’t expect Oscar to stick around now, simply because the world was saved. He is still Oscar after all. Unpredictable and never there when Lando needs him the most.

---

It’s been two months since the battle against Thanos. Two months since Max and George had died. Two months since Lando was named Captain America by Logan. In a week he’d be in Washington DC for the official inauguration. Lando used these past months to focus on two things: train to even have a slight chance to be a courter as good as Logan in this whole thing, and spend time with his sister in Louisiana. Cisca, who hasn’t been snapped away, is now a mother of a four year old girl. It blows Lando’s mind to think about it. How he missed so much in the span of seconds. She lives in a little town, a community who feels more like family than neighbours. Right now Lando sits on the deck of a boat that he is trying to fix. The boat belongs to Cisca. Lando had raised an eyebrow when she told him she bought it for an absolute joke of a price. Because it was a wreck. Rusty and broken to the last screw. It was a miracle it was not sinking where it floats on the water by the docks.

Lando is working an incredibly tight screw by the doorframe to the bridge, when a shadow falls over him, blocking the strong southern sun entirely.

“Need a hand?”

Lando’s heart jumps to his throat, breath catching. How dare he show up here? After two months, after he just left without another word again he shows up here. Lando turns around, ready to start a fight. But there stands Oscar in his dark jeans and heavy boots as usual. But his shirt is blue (bold choice, Lando thinks) and his dog tags reflect the light of the sun. His leather jacket covers his arms, but Lando can see that he isn’t wearing his gloves. His eyes move up to Oscar’s face and his breath catches again. Oscar grins. Apparently that’s all it takes for Lando to get sweaty palms and a racing heart. Instead of giving him a verbal answer, Lando simply hands him the screwdriver and stands up. Oscar kneels in front of the doorframe and unscrews it easily. His grin only widens and Lando can’t help but to scoff. It doesn’t really carry the effect he wants it to have because he smiles.

They continue to work on the boat without talking much. But it’s nice. Almost domestic in a way. Lando makes a joke here and there and Oscar responds in his usual dry manner. It’s not until they are a few hours in, currently working on the motor, that seems to not work in the slightest, that Lando has the courage to ask.

“Where were you all this time?”

Oscar stops his work with the wrench and looks up from where he is crouched on the floor. His eyes set back on the motor when he opens his mouth. “Wakanda. I went back after…” He doesn’t end his sentence. Lando knows anyway. After Logan died shortly after coming back as an old man. Lando wants to say something encouraging. Oscar and Logan had known each other all their lives after all. But Oscar stands up and takes the steep stairs back to the deck. Lando sighs. He shouldn’t have asked. It’s not like Oscar owes him anything. It’s not Oscar’s fault that Lando caught feelings after spending a few months at the compound with him. But he couldn’t help it. And every time Oscar steps back into his life, he is reminded of how strong he actually feels for Oscar. Oscar is probably already leaving the town, heading back to Wakanda. Why Oscar came here, Lando can’t explain. Maybe he doesn’t need to know.

But then he hears the creaking sound of the rusty metal stairs again. Oscar descends with a case in his right hand. He sets the case on top of the motor and steps back. It’s black, with white lines forming an arrow. It looks a lot like his old logo. Lando raises an eyebrow at him. Oscar clears his throat and nods towards the case. “I asked the Wakandans for a favour. Open it.”

Hesitantly, Lando steps forward and opens the case. Inside lies a suit. Not just any suit. A blue and white, stars and stripes suit. Lando gasps. The details are insane, fine lines sewn together. He lets his fingers trace over it. The material is soft, but strong nevertheless. He can’t possibly take this gift.

“Oscar,”

“The wings are vibranium.” Oscar says, like he couldn’t wait to tell Lando. “They’ll capture the power of hits and let you turn it against your opponent.”

And fuck because that sounds cool. Almost like an afterthought, Oscar adds in a whisper, “It fits with the shield.”

Lando sets his eyes on him. He is close. So very close that Lando has to look back to the suit before he does something stupid. “Oscar,” he traces the points of the star on the suit. “I can’t take this.” 

Oscar shrugs his shoulders. “Sure you can. I’m not gonna wear it.” And with that he turns around and walks up the stairs again. Lando closes the case again and follows Oscar. On the deck, Oscar grabs a beer from the cooler that Cisca had brought them earlier and opens the bottle. He hands it to Lando and takes another bottle for himself. Lando sets the case on the floor and sits down on the railing, one leg on the deck, the other dangling above the water. Oscar sits down on a pile of metal plates across from Lando. They sit like that for a while in the setting golden sun. An old radio, the only damn thing that works on this boat, playing some smooth jazz in the background. Lando’s eyes fall back on the case. “Why are you here?”

Oscar turns his head to him, squinting against the low sun. He looks breathtaking like that, Lando thinks. The warm light darkening his usual pale skin, brown eyes shining brighter. He looks into Lando’s eyes and smiles. “I wanted to give you the suit.” And Lando would almost believe it, if he hadn’t seen the slight twitch in the corner of Oscar’s mouth before he spoke.

“I’ll get one from the government.”

“Yeah, but not with vibranium wings.” He still smiles, but Lando sees past it.

“Why do you care if I have vibranium wings or not?” And this does the trick. Oscar’s smile turns into a frown. He takes a swig of his beer. “You’ll be Captain America. Meaning you’ll have even more people shooting at you. Would nice to not be killed, right?” He tries to laugh but it comes out a little broken. Lando nods. But this isn’t it. Lando doesn’t know if he just imagined things. If his mind made up things. But he needs to hear it.

“Oscar, why are you here?”

Oscar takes a deep breath and another swig of his beer before his eyes fall back on Lando. He has the look. The same look he had when Lando was in the hospital, tracing lines on his arm and the same look he had in the training room when Oscar had massaged his shoulder. It’s been so long since then but Lando will never forget how these looks made him feel. Like he is something divine. Lando hopes he can give Oscar the same feeling.

“I wanted to see you.” His voice is soft when he says it, like he is scared he might break something. Lando’s heart races again. Without thinking he takes Oscar’s hand in his. His skin is warm from the sun. “Don’t leave again.”

Oscar immediately shakes his head. “I won’t. Not unless you tell me to.” Oscar leans forward and rests his forehead on Lando’s. Lando takes a deep breath, intertwines their fingers and just feels. Because nothing has ever felt as right as this. The radio still plays in the background, small waves crash against the boat, birds chirp high in the sky but all Lando hears is the pounding of his own heart and Oscar’s breath so close. When Oscar pulls back, Lando has to suppress a whine at the loss of contact. Oscar stands up, puts his bottle on the floor all while still holding Lando’s hand and smiles. “Dance with me?”

Lando squints up at him, the sun reflecting on Oscar’s dog tags, and laughs. He lets himself be pulled to his feet. Oscar guides Lando’s hand to his neck and grabs Lando’s other hand with his metal one. It’s warmer than his old hand used to be, but still colder than body temperature. Lando laughs, as Oscar slings his other hand around Lando’s waist. They sway to the soft music in the background.

“I never would have guessed that Mr. Iceboy is a dancer.” Lando laughs as Oscar spins him and pulls him close again. Oscar’s smile widens. “Seargant Iceboy still. And I used to dance all the time in the forties.” Lando laughs and rests his head on Oscar’s shoulder. He could stay here forever, on his boat in Oscar’s arms. It’s perfect. Lando squeezes Oscar’s hand once and immediately gets a squeeze back. He laughs and looks into Oscar’s eyes again. He can’t help it when his eyes drift down to Oscar’s mouth. And Oscar doesn’t seem to mind because ever so slightly he is leaning in. Till their lips are brushing but not quite touching yet.

“Can I?” Oscar whispers against Lando’s mouth. And Lando would tease him about his perfect manners if he wasn’t so desperate to taste Oscar right now. So instead, he closed the last bit of distance between them. The kiss was slow, careful. Testing the waters before diving in. But once Lando wrapped his other arm around Oscar’s neck and Oscar put his metal hand to his other on Lando’s lip, they were diving. Tongues fighting, hands wandering and pulling at clothes. They pulled apart for not more than a second to breathe before reconnecting their lips. Lando always knew he should have kissed Oscar that day in the training room, when they were sitting on the floor and Oscar had his hands on him. This kiss is only confirming everything he has already known for years.

Lando wants to shove off Oscar’s leather jacket but pulls himself together before that. He pulls away and has to hold Oscar back by his throat so he doesn’t follow his lips. Through heavy breaths he whispers, “Bedroom.” And Oscar nods, probably would have nodded at anything that Lando would have said, before reconnecting their lips.

---

Lando wakes up from sun rays tickling his face and a warm and light pressure against his back. The pressure moves around his bare back, over his spine and shoulder blades, teasing his hips before moving up over the scar on his shoulder. Lando hums and snuggles further into the warm comfort of the bed. He feels Oscar kissing his shoulder blade, before moving his finger over it again.

“Use the metal one.” Lando murmurs through his fatigue. Oscar’s movement stops. The bed sheets rustle before he puts his cold finger over the spot. A shiver makes its way down Lando’s spine and goosebumps erupt, where Oscar’s metal is touching Lando’s warm skin. Lando sighs happily and drifts off into a dreamless sleep again.

When he wakes up once more, the spot next to him is empty. Panic floods him as he sits upright, followed by disappointment. But then the old wooden door to his bedroom creaks and Oscar steps through in only his boxers and shirt, two steaming mugs in his hands. With a smile that Lando has no choice but to mirror, he sets down against the headboard and hands Lando a mug. “Morning.” Lando takes the mug from him and steals a kiss. “Morning.” He settles himself next to Oscar, leaning his head on his shoulder.

“You know,” Oscar starts as he settles his cold hand on Lando’s bare thigh. Lando shudders at the contact. “This is the first time I’ve slept in a proper bed since the war I think.”

Oscar says it with a smile, like it’s a joke. But Lando’s heart breaks a little. He imagines Oscar during the war eighty years ago, sleeping on field beds for an hour before he has to go to the front again. Or him at Hydra, where he didn’t even have a room but a chamber where he was frozen when he wasn’t needed. Or the compound, where he couldn’t even sit on Lando’s bed. He must have kept the habit during his run through Europe and his time in Wakanda. Lando takes the hand on his thigh and kisses the black knuckles. “How was it?” He whispers between kisses, looking up into those divine brown eyes through his lashes. Oscar shakes his hand out of Lando’s grasp and settles it on Lando’s cheek, massaging his scalp with his finger tips. “The best sleep I ever had.” Oscar pulls him in then. They both nearly spill their teas, before Oscar takes the mugs and sets them on the bedside table. He guides Lando into his lap with ease, and Lando is more than happy to comply. The kiss is lazy, exactly like Lando feels right now. But the feeling in his stomach, that ache that had been settled deep in him for years is finally dissolving into a million little butterflies, as Oscar’s hands tangle in Lando’s curls.

They pull apart to breathe, Oscar continues his patterns over Lando’s back.

“Can I come with you?” Oscar asks with closed eyes against Lando’s lips. Lando pulls back as far as Oscar lets him, which is only mere centimeters to look at Oscar’s face. Oscar opens his eyes then and Lando knows at last, that his mind didn’t trick him. That what he thought he saw in Oscar’s eyes all this time was in fact not only trust, but devotion, yearning and, Lando is a bit scared to think about it, maybe something similar to love. “Where?”

“Anywhere. Wherever you go.” Oscar kisses him deeply. “Let me come with you.” He kisses him again and Lando loses himself in it. This can’t be real, this can’t really be happening. “Yes.” Lando gasps, as Oscar kisses his way down Lando’s throat, over his pulse point and collar bones to the scar on his shoulder. Lando thinks his body becomes liquid underneath Oscar’s hands. It feels like falling. And for once, it actually feels good to fall.