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Besides not winning the race, Oscar was having the best day he could possibly have. He clawed his way from P13 to P2 and managed to secure the fastest lap. To be honest, he was looking forward to watching some of the TikTok edits of the, frankly beautiful, overtakes that he executed. Especially the one on Carlos.
After finally ending his podium interviews and media duties, he changed into his comfiest clothes and made his way out of the McLaren motorhome and to his car parked and waiting to take him back to the hotel where he planned to hibernate for the next 36 hours.
With only a few meters left in between him and his escape, a voice rang out that made him wish that he instead had crashed his car into a barrier and died.
“Oscar, hold up just a minute,” Margerie jogged up to him, “Do you have a quick second to talk?”
Margerie was honestly everything that was wrong with the world, and it was constantly baffling to him that the FIA had a whole division dedicated to creating cruel and unusual magical punishments. In his head Oscar was simultaneously saying every curse word that he had ever heard and also prepping what he would put in his will. Hattie could have his UK and Monaco apartments, Edie could have his car collection, and Mae would get all of his racing gear and the payout from his contract.
Oscar stopped walking and nodded at her in defeat. Margerie and the Division of Magic weren’t people that you could just ignore. Well, not if you didn’t want to get hit with a stray curse. Everybody had heard rumors of Mark and Seb both being hit with a magnet spell that wouldn’t let them be more than a meter apart when they refused to do the required magical compatibility test at the beginning of the season.
“Sorry, I know it’s late and you’re probably eager to leave the track, but we at the FIA Division of Magic have a deal that we thought you might be interested in,” Margerie gave him a second for the words to sink in before she continued, “We have it on record that you were using some choice language regarding a Ferrari car on the team radio.”
Oscar immediately felt all the anger that he’d been storing up for the past 23 years of his usually calm life rising to the surface. Stupid new FIA language rules, and stupid Carlos for causing this in the first place. Oscar thought it was a fair trade that when Carlos got to push him into the gravel that Oscar got to call him a fucking cunt on the radio. That just seemed like common sense to him. Apparently, the FIA didn’t agree.
Oscar just nodded again. Maybe if he didn’t speak, Margerie would forget that he was there.
It didn’t work.
Margerie clapped her hands together, “So we at the FIA Division of Magic have decided to introduce a new potion designed to combat the increase in foul language that we’ve been noticing in the sport. This potion would make you more aware of the sensitive nature of some of our audience and hopefully allow you to reflect on what sort of language you will use in the future.”
Well, if that wasn’t the vaguest description ever.
“Of course, we need someone to do a trial run, and as you were the first one to break the language rules, we thought you would be the perfect candidate.”
Oscar just stared at her and narrowed his eyes. His mother had always warned him not to be stupid about the FIA Magic rules. It was still fresh in his mind when he and every other driver on the grid got to witness that absolute disaster that was Charles and his truth potion not even a week ago. Not that Oscar wasn’t grateful for Charles taking the fall for him, because he was certain that if he had taken the potion he would’ve admitted to literal crimes. Not anything that bad, but he didn’t want the other drivers to know what movies he’d been pirating lately.
“Think on the bright side, if you agree to do this you avoid any fines, penalty points, or other additional media duties.”
That had Oscar agreeing right away. Additional media duties were probably what made up the worst circle of hell. Besides Margerie, of course.
“I’m in.”
Oscar stared at Margerie’s hands as she clapped them together again and wondered what the punishment would be for making sure she was never able to do that again.
Margerie produced a sparkly navy-blue vial from her jacket pocket and handed it to him. Oscar uncorked it and drank the whole thing in one swig before he had more time to rethink his decision to be a test subject.
It tasted like mint, lemon, and lavender, but it was the marshmallow aftertaste that made the whole thing a little addicting. He stared at the empty bottle, almost wishing that he could have another.
Nothing changed for a few long seconds, but all of a sudden, his body started tingling. There was a sharp pain in his lower back and scalp that quickly receded. As he opened his mouth to complain, he could all of a sudden feel two extra sharp points in his mouth.
Oscar groaned. If this spell had somehow managed to turn him into a vampire, he would promptly lose his shit.
Margerie waved her hands in a few quick circles, no doubt magically recording the success of the potion.
“Excellent, I have reported your cooperation. This potion should wear off in 12 hours, feel free to contact us if you have any questions or concerns, if not, then we will see you at the next race. The FIA Division of Magic thanks you for your service.”
He immediately turned away from her, unlocked the car and sat in his front seat. He flicked down his mirror and braced himself for the worst.
Two orange ears sat atop his head. He reached a hand up to gently touch them and let out a soft gasp when his fingers felt just how sensitive they were.
The longer he sat down it was also becoming abundantly clear that something was not right.
He felt like a pervert as he reached into his shorts and his hands wrapped around a matching orange tail. He tugged it out and with a mind of its own it carefully wrapped itself around his waist. It felt a little bit like a hug, which was nice, but it also felt fucking weird, and he clearly couldn’t control it.
It wasn’t just the ears and the tail either, it felt like all of his emotions were softening up and making him feel almost gooey inside. And look, Oscar wasn’t normally a sensitive guy. He didn’t even cry when his rib fractured. But right now, he felt like things were getting a little out of control and he just wanted to curl up in a ball and let out a few tears.
He pulled out his phone and clicked on his most used contact. It took only one ring for the call to connect.
“Oscar!” The other man exclaimed excitedly.
“Lando,” he said back, all the other words immediately getting caught in his throat.
There was a long pause as Lando was no doubt trying to determine why Oscar sounded like someone had burnt down his house.
“Osc.” There was another pause, “Are you okay?”
And what a question that was. Sure, he was physically okay, but his body didn’t feel like his anymore and he could tell the stupid potion was messing with his brain.
“Lando,” Oscar sighed, “I fear my life is over.”
There was a squawk on the other end, “I saw you less than an hour ago, what happened?”
Oscar sighed again, but this time for longer and louder, “I’m a cat.”
At the thought of his situation, he could feel his lips involuntarily curling up into a hiss of displeasure. While he waited for Lando to respond he debated the outcome of slamming his head repeatedly into the steering wheel.
There was another pause, “You’re what?”
“I’m coming over.”
Lando barely had time to agree and read out his hotel room number before Oscar was hanging up the phone and burying his head into his hands.
Sure, it wasn’t that odd of a demand, they could often be found spending time in each other's hotel rooms. Though normally that was during their free time in the day playing whatever video game that Lando happened to be obsessed with at the moment. They’ve never seen each other at night like this before.
But Oscar clearly didn’t feel like himself, and he could really use some comfort.
The two of them had been dancing around each other for the better part of the past two years. Oscar wasn’t dumb. He noticed the way that Lando would stare at his ass every time he turned around, and if he started adding extra squats to his training routine… Well, that was between him and Kim.
If anything was going to jumpstart their relationship, it might as well be the fuckass FIA Division of Magic. Not that he would ever give them credit though, if they did happen to work out.
Oscar drove back to the hotel in silence.
The door opened and Lando just stared at him in shock, “You’re a cat.”
Oscar rolled his eyes and tried to fight the hiss that was threatening to spill out.
“I literally told you that. On the phone. Not even ten minutes ago.”
Lando spent another few moments ogling him, but as soon as he stepped aside, Oscar beelined straight for the bed. He flopped onto it and promptly screamed into one of the pillows.
Lando trailed after him, “Aw, Osc. You didn’t tell me you were this cute.”
Oscar rolled over and stared at the man, Lando’s gaze was going from his ears to his eyes, to the tail that was swishing itself around angrily.
“I’m not happy,” He pouted.
Lando climbed into bed next to him. If the scrunch between his eyebrows said anything, it was that Lando clearly had no idea what to do in this situation.
Oscar was an expert at handling Lando’s freakouts, but Lando had never had any practice in dealing with Oscars. And to be fair, no one really did. Oscar just took himself on a walk if he ever felt overwhelmed. Or called his mum.
“I’m guessing this is the FIA-”
“- Division of Magic,” he completed with a sigh, “Apparently the punishment for calling someone a cunt on the radio is turning into a cat.”
There was a moment of silence before Lando burst out laughing.
“Osc, honestly,” He could barely get out between bursts of laughter, “You are amazing.”
Oscar sat up and thumped his head onto the older man's shoulder. He wasn’t embarrassed, no matter what the redness blooming on his face might indicate.
The laughter quieted down, and Lando gently scratched the top of his head, “Good kitty.”
A rumble started building up in his chest before he could stop it. Oscar pressed his head more firmly into the other man’s hand. If he had to be a cat, he sure as hell was going to enjoy it while he could.
They just sat there in silence for a few minutes. The petting never ceased.
“You really are the cutest thing, you know.”
Oscar purred louder.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” Lando admitted softly, “So, well, clingy.”
“Sorry,” Oscar said. Not sorry in the slightest.
He was having a good day, and objectively he still was. Yet, the slimy feeling was rising back up in him. His tail swished more angrily, and he was kind of feeling the urge to eat seafood. He just didn’t feel like himself.
“I wish I wasn’t a stupid cat,” Oscar sniffled.
Oh god. He was going to cry.
“Osc, you’re okay,” Lando said, a little worried, “It’ll be over before you know it.”
“I know,” Oscar cried, he couldn’t help it as tears started pouring out of his eyes, “I don’t even know why I’m crying. I think I’m just overwhelmed. And tired.”
And magically more emotionally sensitive due to Margerie’s fuckass potion. At least he had Lando with him. He can’t imagine what he would’ve done without the other man as support.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Oscar whispered, as his crying picked back up again.
Lando was the best. He was so kind, and hard-working, and funny, and unfairly fit. And his ass looked so good when he wore his stupid warm up leggings. His chest rumbled as the purrs started right back up again.
“Aw, happy tears now Osc?”
Oscar nodded into his shoulder.
“I don’t like feeling this way. I feel like tar. Like goop. I feel bad for anyone who has ever been pregnant and has had to deal with these mood swings,” He rubbed his eyes, “Stupid fucking Margerie, making me all sensitive. Cunt.”
Lando laughed, “I’m not sure that this potion is that effective in trying to stop cursing.”
“I’m going to tell her it worked brilliantly. I can’t wait to see Max as a cat.”
Lando smiled down at him.
“Do you mind if we settle down for the night? I’m exhausted.”
Oscar nodded immediately. Brilliant plan. Brilliant man. Best and worst day ever.
Well.
One thing could make it better. His hands were beginning to get a little stir crazy. He loved Lando so much he just had to show him.
Oscar pressed his palms into Lando’s thigh and satisfied the urge to knead.
Lando’s breathing hitched. Oscar immediately looked up to see if it was alright and was met with the softest smile he had ever seen.
“You turning me into biscuits?” He finally asked, his nails scratching Oscar’s head in a way that could only be compared to finding heaven.
Purrs erupted from him, and his hand’s continued moving.
“Best chef around,” He mumbled sleepily.
The pair of them had slept so late that when they woke up, Oscar was back to being his recognizable human self.
Though if they spent the next night curled up together, well, who’s to say why that would be.