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“Lando, right. I’m Oscar. We’ve got everything under control in there now, the rest of the guys are just finishing up a few final checks before the scene is fully cleared. Just wanted to- Shit, sorry, you must be freezing. Here,” the man - Oscar - replied, suddenly pulling off the thick fire retardant jacket he was wearing and draping it around Lando’s shoulders.
Lando’s eyes widened for a moment, nearly choking on air while he inadvertently looked over the man's physique that was now visible, which… Good god. His biceps were cruelly massive, the tight black shirt he was wearing accentuating his broad chest, and Lando felt like he could just about pass out. The warmth of the jacket was nice, too, but the cold had suddenly felt much less pressing.
“Thanks,” he choked out, clearing his throat. “Yeah, uh… Pretty cold out here.”
Oscar laughed quietly, as if Lando couldn’t get any more infatuated, but he quickly moved on. “No problem at all, mate. ‘S what we’re here for. Just, maybe stick to takeaway next time, yeah? As nice as it is to meet you, I’d hate to be showing back up here for another fire.”
or
In which Oscar is a firefighter, and Lando is down bad
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I Feel the Rush, Addicted to Your Touch
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