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Saturday’s qualifying session had wrapped up, unfortunately, he hadn't made it to the third session due to a misunderstanding with a McLaren driver. Although starting from eleventh place was actually pretty decent considering the car he was driving, an Alpine.
Honestly, as he walked towards the press conference, he really should have seen this whole spectacle coming, but his mind was elsewhere, thinking about tomorrow, the weather, the drivers he’d be facing at the start and if he missed any detail about the car that he hadn't reported to Stuart or the engineers. He was completely zoned out, so when the question hit him out of nowhere, he did nothing but fall silent for a few seconds, completely speechless.
"McLaren’s famous 'Iceman' blocked you and ruined your final flying lap, do you have any comments on that?" He really should have seen it coming, it was obvious the journalists would want to bait him and hunt for a juicy headline, especially given the history between Alpine and Oscar, not to mention the dispute they’d had ages ago.
Well, it hadn't actually been ages since that moment but it felt like it, given that this year he’d started interacting and hanging out more with the Australian, maybe exchanging some flirtatious banter, stealing a kiss, sharing a knowing look. It’s worth noting that they hadn't really talked about it properly or put a label on things, they were simply letting things flow.
But did this something-relationship make him more understanding or lenient toward Oscar on the track? Of course not, in fact, he expected Oscar to feel the same way and not go easy on him either, it was fair, they were still opponents.
In this specific instance, however, what had happened was such a stupid, minor thing, it honestly didn't even annoy him enough to throw insults at the Australian. Besides, the lap time Lindblad had set would have kept him out of Q3 anyway. But well, what had happened was that Oscar had just finished his penultimate run, which had put him second, behind Norris, and the McLaren team was satisfied with that and denied him a final lap.
Meanwhile, he had started his final lap when the incident happened, it was the kind of thing you usually see on the street when you’re walking and suddenly come face to face with someone, you try to let them pass but you both step the same way to let the other pass, first one side then the other, until you two finally coordinate and go your separate ways. That was basically what happened but the camera angles and movements made it look as though Oscar had blocked him on purpose.
If you thought about it rationally, the Australian had no reason to do that, especially not in qualifying. It had been a simple mistake, and besides that, as he overtook him, he saw Piastri raise his hand slightly in apology, though, of course, the journalists paid no attention to that.
They were waiting for a headline while he furrowed his brow in slight confusion, a clearly forced smile forming on his lips. "Sorry, I don't understand, who are you referring to as 'Iceman'?" He wasn't an idiot, he’d read the news, statements and so on, where only one of the McLaren drivers was described that way. Yet that didn't change the fact that he was confused because the image he had on his mind of the Australian was completely different to this so called 'Iceman'.
He watched the journalists exchange incredulous glances, likely wondering if he was serious, but eventually, one of them spoke up to clarify the matter. "It’s a well known nickname for Oscar Piastri, the McLaren driver." The last part sounded a little bit tinged with irony, treating him like a complete idiot, even though the man kept hiding behind a polite smile.
"Hmm... I just don't think we're talking about the same guy." He crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly to the side, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he thought. He completely ignored the Alpine team member standing just inches away, someone who had likely followed him to ensure he didn't say the wrong thing, and who was surely tense now, eyeing him with a clear warning. “Look, I'll explain it to you, when you watch the races or content from any of the teams, you have to take your blindfold off–”
His words hung in the air as the Alpine staff, muttering a constant "no, no, no, no", gently ushered him out of the press conference, the man’s hands felt firm on his shoulders, likely to ensure he didn't even try to turn around and finish his sentence.
Even so, he managed to turn his head and shout a simple, "he apologized, it’s all good," just as Oscar himself walked by on his way to his own press conference. The Australian stared at him for a few seconds, the confusion, surprise and puzzlement were evident in his brown eyes and expression before he continued on his way, still looking somewhat unsure about what he just witnessed.
Later, he found an impatient Oscar waiting for him outside the paddock so they could leave together. A deep flush spread across his ears and cheeks as their eyes met, the Australian quickly closed the distance between them, the corners of his mouth seeming to tremble as if he were fighting back a smile. "How could you say that? The PR team must have been tearing you apart in there, that’s why you came out late, right?" He watched silently as the taller man closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a sigh escaped his lips. "It would have been better for you if you’d just ignored it."
But how could he? How could he ignore something like that? After all, he spent entire afternoons trying to make the man laugh not because he thought Oscar lacked expression, no, but simply because he loved the sound of it.
Most of the time, he didn't even have to try, it was enough for his green eyes to meet Oscar’s brown ones for the other man to automatically smile back, a calm smile that radiated sweetness at the corners of his mouth, accompanied by a gentle, affectionate gaze.
At other times, simply watching him was enough to notice that habit the Australian had of scrunching up his nose, a gesture that, whenever they were alone, made him want to plant a kiss right on the bridge of it.
Or the way Oscar constantly tried to fight back a smile that threatened to give him away whenever he tried out his lame pickup lines like "Been coming around here often, handsome?" while they were hanging out in the other's apartment.
His absolute favorite among the Australian’s range of expressions was the look he wore whenever he messed something up. The man would automatically stop what he was doing, rest his hand on his chin and smile, looking guilty and embarrassed all at once, while taking a few seconds to figure out how to recover from the mistake or how to act now that he already made it.
For that reason, and so many others, how could he just ignore that?
"Oscar, if you say that again, I’m going to find a way to shake your head to see if your brain organizes itself better, take it as a threat, a warning, whatever you want, but I’m going to do it so don't even try me."