I just want your two hands on me

by ReadTwilightAndHatedIt

Summary:

To be able to fulfill his life-long dream of becoming F1 world champion, Lando Norris has suppressed his submissive dynamic all his life. And it has worked out quite well for him. Until the final race of 2024 in Abu Dhabi.
Out of fear of losing his job and the possibility of living his dream, at the beginning of the 2025 season, he runs headfirst into a huge mess involving his teammate/rival Oscar Piastri, and he just knows it can’t end up with a happy ending.

Chapter 1: Abu Dhabi 2024

Notes:

Okay, well, hi everybody I guess :)
This is the first thing I have written in a while, meaning since I was 14, which yeah was a while ago haha.

So Landoscar has been living in my head rent free for a while now, and I also developed a growing love for D/S AU fanfictions, so here we are.

Quick disclaimer, I am not toooo educated on everything that is going on on a F1 weekend, so if there is anything that doesn’t make sense in terms of F1 practice, please just ignore it.

My idea right now is to kind of try and follow the F1 2025 calendar but god knows if that will work out. God knows if there will ever be more to this story than what I have already written right now. We will see I guess.

I also know that there are a bunch of really good D/S AU fanfictions that are probably way better designed than whatever I am doing here is, but honestly this is mostly to have an outlet for my creative thoughts I have in the middle of the night and to fanatasize over landoscar a bit so whatever.

I will at more tags as I go, right now I am not sure where this will go.

I hope somebody will enjoy this a little bit.

I am not a native English speaker, so I am very sorry if the writing sucks, but I also got a Grammar AI to help me a bit, so hopefully it’s bearable haha.

Abu Dhabi 2024

- Saturday -

Lando Norris is pretty sure that he must be the most stupid F1 driver to ever walk the paddock. Not that he didn’t get himself into one or another really stupid situation in his life before. But this must be the epitome of it.

It’s Saturday, the day before the final F1 race of the year. The race that could win or lose them the constructors championship. And Lando Norris is about to drop.

He could already sense it before qualifying. He felt an unusual level of exhaustion, even when one considers that it was the last race of a mentally and physically exhausting year for Lando. The morning wasn’t too bad, he had a meal-plan-appropriate breakfast as usual, already thinking about the stack of pancakes he would eat he first morning the season was over. He had some early morning catch-up with the team, and a quick training session in the gym of the hotel he stayed at. But during the short break he took before driving to the circuit, he felt the anxious feeling and the nervousness slowly creeping up on him. And he just knew that this wasn’t the usual pre-race-anxiety, not even with the prospect of this weekend making him a world champion.

Throughout the day it only got worse and worse.

In addition to the anxiety he was feeling and the struggle to calm his nerves, the people around him started stressing him out. Every time one of the Doms around him opened his mouth, there was something in his stomach that started twisting.

It slowly became unbearable until he couldn’t concentrate on his own thoughts, other than them revolving around the words of the people around him.

It was dawning on him then, that he in fact was about to drop. God, did he even have someone put him down properly since Daniel left F1?

But this was the last race, and it was important for the championship, so Lando tried his best to suppress his thoughts and to concentrate on driving fast laps. Looking back, it was a mystery to him how he managed to secure P1 in Qualifying.

After Qualifying though, when he was back at the paddock and talking through some last-minute stuff with the team he realized that he was completely fucked.

Faking Dom-behavior had become second nature to him the past 10 years. It already had been in karting, and when he entered his first F1 season, the one thing that was more important to him than becoming world champion, was keeping his act. Lando hated being a Sub in F1. He hated being a Sub in this world. His biggest fear was for everybody to notice, that he was an imposter. Even though it wasn’t against the law or more important, the FIA Rules, technically for a sub to be an F1 driver, he couldn’t help but dread that someone would find out about him one day.  Deep down he just knew that from that day on, his life would be a different one. People would lose respect for him, people would start treating him differently, and one day or another, some stupid old-fashioned FIA official would come up with a reason for why it was impossible for him to keep driving in F1. And that was something he could never, ever allow to happen.

But all his efforts of the past 10 years to keep his act would go to waist, if he didn’t manage not to fall to his knees at some random comment of a team-mate, that may be uttered with a bit more force than needed to in normal conversation.

It took all his mental strength to focus on something else and not let his intrusive submissive thoughts take control of him.

Desperately in need for distraction, Lando let his gaze wander over the paddock.

He came to a halt at the sight of Oscar. His teammate seemed to be deep in conversation with his mechanics, attentively listening to them talking. Something inside Lando roared at the sight of him. The world was an unfair place.

Perfectly calm and content Oscar Piastri was blessed with the dom-genes and yet made nothing out of it. He always just stood around, listening to what other people had to say, following orders like a good boy, he never commanded anybody or even used the natural authority in his voice. If only Lando was a Dom himself, he wouldn’t let anybody tell him anything.

Of course, Lando knew that Oscar wasn’t the right target for his anger right now. The only person he should really be mad at was himself, for not anticipating that a situation like this might happen when he went months without being put down properly, with all the pressure he had felt on his shoulders over the last months.

Deep in his own thoughts and consumed with his self-hatred, Lando notices way to late that Oscar was also watching him from afar. Their eyes met and for a fleeting moment, they both just stared at each other.

“Lando, are you still with us?”

Lando winces at the sudden remark of his race engineer bringing him back to the present. “Yeah sure.” He realizes the Doms around him are not buying his words at all. “Sorry guys, I’m just really exhausted. But I’m sure everything will go according to plan tomorrow, I don’t have a doubt.” He tries to look as sure of himself as possible, even though he feels all but that inside.

After Zak dismissed him for the afternoon, Lando almost ran back to his driver’s room. In the privacy of his room, he let himself lean against the door and close his eyes.

He cannot really be about to drop right? Like, there is no fucking way that this was happening to him right now. Nobody on earth had this much of bad luck.

He gave himself a moment to calm down, taking some deep breaths, drinking some water, trying his best to calm the storm going on in his mind.
It didn’t work. Of course it didn’t.

He decided to change and get back to the hotel, somewhere safe, where he was not surrounded by reporters that could end his career on the spot if somehow he didn’t manage to keep his cool anymore.

Stepping out of his driver’s room, he was already scanning the grounds for the fastest way out, trying to avoid all the press people who were still trying to get more interviews after a whole day, and almost crashed into another person. “Woah sorry mate” he says quickly, not really noticing who exactly he ran into. “No problem” a familiar voice responds.

Lando focuses his gaze and looks up into Oscars deep brown eyes. “Oh, sorry, didn’t notice this was you” he mumbles, nervously looking back and forth between Oscar and the reporters waiting near the exit. He felt so anxious at this point, it was hard to concentrate on keeping his act up.

Oscar glanced at him attentively and squeezed his eyes as though he was looking for something specific in Lando’s demeanor.

 

Feeling like a deer in the headlights, Lando didn’t really do the best job at staying calm. “What’s with that face?” he barks. Oscar however obviously doesn’t seem taken aback by his sharp comment and just shrugs his shoulders. “Dunno” he says, “are you alright?”

“Why?” Lando snaps back. “Honestly, I’m great. Qualifying was great. I’m in great shape. I’m gonna crush the race tomorrow. Why wouldn’t I feel great?”

Damn, he really needs to calm the fuck down, he feels almost sorry for Oscar.

“Okay.”  the latter says calmly and takes a step back. “Well, if something comes up or whatever… if you need to talk or something-“ “I just said I’m fine mate.” And he cant help but throwing in a “Please mind your own business, thank you” at the end.

The ‘thank you’ doesn’t sound thankful at all. But he can’t shake the urgency to get out of here, so he mumbles a quick “see you at dinner” and practically sprints past his teammate towards the exit.

He can feel Oscars eyes lingering on him when he makes his way out of the paddock. Or maybe he’s just imagining it.

 

 

- Sunday -

Lando can’t stop pacing in his driver’s room. Fuck, there had to be something to get him to calm down. He couldn’t get in a car driving over 300km per hour like this.

Exhausted, he sank down on the couch and dropped his head in his hands.

His thoughts were spinning, there was a ringing in his ears, his legs were shaking. He could already see his career ending like a film before his eyes.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, he doesn’t see or hear anything anymore going on around him. Slowly but surely, he starts panicking. Like really panicking.

He only barely notices that somebody enters the room. He can hear someone talking from far away, but it doesn’t get through to him who is talking and what exactly he is saying. He feels like he’s under water, all air sucked out of his body. He feels a steady hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly. The voice keeps talking to him from far far away. Its soothing and he slowly starts taking in his surroundings again.

“Fuck Lando, are you alright?”

Oh no. Out of all people who could’ve come into the room right now, why on earth did it have to be fucking Perfect Oscar Piastri.

“Lando breath, you’re not breathing right. Lando can you hear me?”

He has to calm down, he can’t let Oscar see him like this. Maybe he can make him believe he’s suffering from a pannic attack or something. Maybe he can still turn this around somehow.

“Okay, Lando I have to get someone, like a someone from the emergency workers or..”

No, No, No. That cannot happen. Lando couldn’t let that happen. There couldn’t be a ton of people in here watching him drop like a helpless, deranged sub.

“No” he manages, it’s more a gasp than anything else.

“Lando, I don’t know how to help you. I need to get someone.”

Even though it took all of his mental strength to focus and have a clear thought, he slowly realized that perfect Oscar Piastri might be his only chance to not lose the Championship, his lifelong dream and his job all in one day. And after all, it could have been worse. Oscar Piastri was someone who could be trusted with a little (in fact not that little but more of a huge thing but who cares) secret. At least that’s what Lando made himself believe in that moment. He had to cling onto this last straw the universe had given him.

So, he gathered all the courage and mental strength left in his body and made a decision.

“Oscar,” he said, trying everything to make his voice steady and not slur too much.

“I’m here” the younger man says, dropping to the floor in front of him, one hand on Lando’s knee. Fuck, the contact alone makes Lando want to throw himself into Oscars strong arms.

“What’s wrong, what do you need?”

Lando took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I’m dropping.”

The room was quiet for a moment.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Lando wondered if he had ever heard Oscar swear before.

Lando was already about to gather all the strength left in his body to form another sentence to advise Oscar on what to do, but the younger man was already a step ahead of him. “Okay, I can try to put you down, is that allright for you?”

He didn’t really wait for an answer from Lando. And fuck, Lando really didn’t want to answer, he didn’t want to make decisions, didn’t want to think about nothing anymore. The only thing he wanted, was for somebody to tell him what to do, to be able to rely on somebody.

He feels how Oscar helps him to get from the couch down to the floor, carefully preventing him from falling down to his knees painfully.

With Lando on his knees, Oscar comes to sit on the couch in front of him. “It’s alright Lando. I’m here, you can let go.” God his voice is so smooth its almost addicting. Lando wants to listen to this voice saying soothing things like this forever.

“Easy now. Just let it go. I’m here, I’ll take care of you.” And how Lando wants Oscar to take care of him. He feels Oscars strong hand on the back of his neck, gripping tightly, making Lando feel so safe and secure like he hasn’t felt in months. “It’s okay, just breath for me, Lando. You’re doing so good.”

Lando rests his forehead on Oscar’s knee and allows himself to finally let go.

 

-

 

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he hears Oscars smooth voice dragging him back up again with soft, careful words. His neck is aching a bit, and he realizes something steady he is leaning his head against. He takes a deep breath before he opens his eyes. Carefully, he raises his head. He takes a careful look around, takes in the sight of his familiar driver’s room and then lets his gaze land on Oscars golden retriever eyes. Only then he realizes that Oscars hand is still gripping the back of his neck, still providing him with security and calmness. In this moment, he wishes Oscar would never take his hand away.

“You okay?” the man with those deep brown eyes asks. Lando nods slowly.

“Want to come back up here?” Slow nods again.

Oscar takes his hand away from the back of his neck to help him get on the couch with him, and Lando instantly mourns the loss of Oscars touch.

The two of them just sit together in silence for a while, both of them processing what had just happened.

“How long was I gone?” Lando finally breaks the silence.

“Not that long” Oscar responds. “Only like 15 Minutes or so. Do you think you’ll be fine for now?” Lando nods.

„Does anybody else know?“ Oscar asks and looks at him intensely with those golden retriever eyes. “Like from F1 people I mean.”

Lando cannot bear to keep looking at Oscar, so he looks at the ceiling instead. „I’m pretty sure some people at McLaren have their assumptions. Zak probably guesses it. And Daniel knows.“

He can feel Oscar’s tensing up beside him.

„Daniel. As in Daniel Ricciardo?“ Lando nods. „He found out a while after we became teammates. We were scening every now and then. Well, until he lost his F1 seat. Which is why I am in this... situation now, if you were wondering. So thanks to Racing Bulls for making not only him but also me miserable.“ he laughs a little. God, what on earth gave him the audacity to harass perfect Oscar Piastri with his stupid sub problems?

„Oh, okay.“

There’s silence for a couple moments until Oscar slowly starts raising from the couch. „I should go back to my room. We’ll need to get to the garage soon.” he says. Then he takes another deep look at Lando. “Are you sure you will be okay? I really don’t want you to drive your car into the wall or something.”

Lando tries to put on the most reassuring face he can offer. He had plenty of practice with that the last 24 hours.

“Yeah, I’m good. Might be a little dizzy for a while, but until I get in the car it will be as good as ever.”

“Okay, then I will trust you with that.” Oscar walks towards the door.

He stills just before he opens the door, hand already on the handle.

„Hey, uhm- if you are in need of… a- favor like that ever again. Don’t hesitate to tell me okay?“

Lando might nod at that, and he even offers a thankful smile, but he’s already very sure that that will be the last thing on earth he will do if that moment comes.

„Thank you again“ he says.

Oscar only nods and steps out of the room. Lando can hear the grid buzzing with noise in the distance. He still feels like shit, like a bad hangover, but at least the anxiety seems gone and he can focus again. He lets out a deep breath and rests his head back on the head of the couch again. Perfect Oscar Piastri just saved his career.

Despite all of the trouble of the day, Lando goes on to win the race and McLaren is Constructors Champion.

Oscar pulls him into a hug that Lando can’t help but wish would go on forever.

After they break apart, Oscar stills for a second and looks into Lando’s eyes intently. “You okay?” The noise around them is so loud that only Lando can hear what he says.

Lando wants to shrug it off, just tell him that he’s great like he did the day before. But something in him doesn’t let him lie Oscar in the face right now.

“Have been better, but its okay.” He whispers. Oscar stares at him with a super intense look in his eyes. Before he can say anything else though, Lando breaks the tension with a (forced) huge smile. “Hey mate, we are world champions” he says, and pats Oscar on the back.

Oscar breathes in, as to say something, but then shakes his head and gives Lando a small smile.

Had that smile always been so beautiful?

A little later that evening, while they share some champagne, Oscar puts an arm around Lando’s waist and pulls him closer. And Lando tries really hard to not fall for it, but if he’s honest with himself, a hand on his waist has never felt as good and right as in this moment. So he lets himself have a moment of peace and carefully, barely noticeably, leans against Oscar a little more than needed.

Notes:

I just had to include a scene with the picture I'm sure we have all seen on social media, I just love it so much <3
Please feel encouraged to let me know what you think!

Chapter 2: Melbourne 2025

Notes:

Sadly, Melbourne didnt give me too much inspiration to include in this chapter. And im still super sad thinking about it, I wanted Oscar to have that podium so bad.
So for now Im just gonna pretend it didnt happen haha.
Maybe that will be different with a future race or maybe the only thing I will stick to is the schedule of races. Im really just figuring things out as I go here haha.

Melbourne 2025

 

- Friday -

 

Oscar arrives a little late at the circuit on the first day in Melbourne. The last couple of days he had spent some time with his family in Australia, to have some peace to himself before the usual F1 early season chaos would hit him.

As excited as he was about his home race, he was also a little apprehensive as he approached the McLaren meeting room at the circuit for the first time this weekend. His heart was beating a little faster than usual at the start of the weekend, but he tried to put it down to the fact that it was the first race of the new season.

Although if he was honest with himself, he knew that his nervousness had nothing to do with racing and everything to do with… well, that one specific person he was about to spend almost the whole weekend with.

While he had just seen Lando a week ago in Bahrain at pre-season testing and a while before that at the launch event, it felt like he hadn’t seen him since Abu Dhabi. Since they had that awkward… moment with each other.
He could feel his cheeks heat up at the thought of it. Man, he really had to get over it.

Was it a shock to see Lando break down in his driver‘s room before the race?
Was it strangely intimate to take control of Lando and make him kneel for him?

For sure.

But ever since that had happened, ever since he’d felt the thrill of taking control of Lando like that, he couldn’t help but yearn for another moment of that intimacy between them. And he had really tried his best not to.

Unfortunately, Lando didn’t seem to think or feel the same way.
Whenever Oscar had tried to approach him over the past few months, when they had seen each other at events or at McLaren, whenever he had asked him how he was, if he was okay, and really just wanted an honest answer, Lando had just given him his typical Lando-grin and some superficial answer. And ever since Oscar knew that Lando wasn't really a Dom, despite what he'd led everyone around him to believe, he couldn't help but wonder what else he seemed to know about Lando was fake.

But maybe it wasn’t an act at all. Oscar might know now that Lando was a Sub, something he would’ve never imagined from his outspoken, extroverted and determined teammate. But that didn’t have to mean that Lando’s whole personality that he had portrayed over the past years was just an act.
Maybe that was Lando’s real personality, even if he was a sub. And maybe, when he grinned his usual Lando-grin at Oscar in response to his questions how he was, and shrugged off Oscar’s honest concern, he was in fact feeling good.
Maybe the whole thing didn’t affect him as much as it had affected Oscar.
Maybe he had taken care of his… situation over the past months.
Maybe he had someone at home, someone he could rely on to take him down.

He probably had someone.

There was no way Lando Norris didn’t have a ton of Doms waiting in line to take care of him when he needed it. Hopefully it was someone who treated him right and didn’t take advantage of him. He wondered if Lando went down for others as easily as he went down for Oscar in Abu Dhabi.

Oscar didn’t notice how his brows had furrowed while he was lost in his thoughts and how he now stared angrily at the street below him as he made his way to the McLaren rooms.

When he finally reached the door, he hesitated a second before he entered. He tried to clear his mind and shake of his nervousness.

There was no reason to feel weird, he told himself. Everything was perfectly normal. Lando had simply needed some support back in Abu Dhabi and Oscar had been happy to provide that - and that was it. Essentially, that was all that had happened.

Apart from the fact that Oscar had literally forced himself on Lando afterwards when he offered that they could do it again in the future. And that every time they had seen each other since then, he had tried to get an honest reaction out of Lando about his feelings maybe with the prospect of having another moment of intimacy.

Okay, yeah, he had enjoyed the faint moment that they had shared in Abu Dhabi. Obviously, he didn’t like seeing Lando so lost and helpless. But on the other hand, that moment made him witness a side of Lando he hadn’t been able to see before. An honest side. A vulnerable side.
And yes, he wouldn’t have minded seeing that side of him again. But Lando clearly wasn’t interested in any further “help“ from his side, so that was that.

And that was perfectly fine.

So, he pulled himself together, abandoned the angry face and stepped into the McLaren meeting-room.

He’s greeted with the usual McLaren turmoil at the beginning of a race weekend. Some people greeting him cheerfully, some people pacing around. Some people are already sitting at the meeting table, chatting with their strategist and running a hand through their curls. An image briefly flickers in Oscar’s mind of some people on their knees in front of him. Oscar’s hand buried in those damn curls. He takes a deep breath and slightly shakes his head, as if he can shake the thoughts right out of his head.

Lando doesn’t want him to help him in that way, and that’s perfectly fine, he reminds himself again.

He takes his seat next to Lando. Lando grins at him from the side. “Hey mate, how are you? How was your time with your family?” Oscar forces himself to smile back at him, even though the angry look from earlier feels more appropriate.

“Yeah, it was good. I hope it will help to stay cool the next couple of days.” Theres a short moment of silence between them. The people around them are chatting away and running around, getting stuff ready for the first meeting of the weekend.

Oscar clears his throat. “And how are you doing?”

When he looks at Lando, he is met with the usual happy Lando face. The one he’s no longer sure is real.

“Yeah, I’m great. Excited for the weekend and all.”

“Yeah, me too.”

It falls silent again. Lando gets back to his strategist, and they don’t talk any more than that.

And it’s all perfectly fine for Oscar.

Perfectly. Fine.

 

 

- Saturday night, after Qualifying -

 

Apparently, Lando has learned absolutely nothing since the last season.

Almost three months of winter break was not enough time to get his shit together and improve his situation.
Not only is he still without someone to usually give him some orders, so he can calm down for a couple of hours, he also managed to (again) get himself into a disastrous situation.

It’s Saturday night, after qualifying, and after lying on his hotel room floor for almost an hour, desperate for someone to take him out of his mind and put him down, at 10pm he finally gets up to find a club in the streets of Melbourne where he can get some random Dom to give him what he needs. If people only knew how much he was willing to do for his F1 career. Maybe they would finally get over the party-boy image and praise him for his self-sacrifice instead.

He told the uber driver to bring him to a place a couple of streets away from the club he found online, just in case. Party-boy image or not, he really doesn’t need headlines the morning of the first race of the season.

Now he made it to the place and enters through a rusty door into a dark entrance area.

Theres a young woman sitting behind a reception desk that welcomes him with a bright, almost intimidating smile. „Can I please get your name and what exactly you are looking for tonight?

„Yeah, I would like to know that too.“

Lando is pretty sure his heart skips a couple of beats when he suddenly hears this very familiar voice coming from behind him.
He tries to catch a breath (and his composure) and slowly turns around.
„I could ask you the same thing, mate.“ Oh and he’s so proud that he managed a reply like that and doesn’t just stutter useless words at the sight of familiar golden retriever eyes.

Even if, at the moment, these eyes look as if the golden retriever was preparing to murder someone.

Apparently Oscar doesn’t agree with Lando’s standpoint, that clearly he had more reasons to explain what he was doing here than himself. He just glares at Lando angrily, arms crossed before his chest and waits for him to explain himself.

Once again, Lando curses the fatal moment in seventh grade, when Lisa Jones order to „instantly stop being a dickhead and instantly give her back her pencil case“ made him realize that there was in fact not one bit of natural Dom instincts in his entire body. He takes a moment to assess the situation, and clearly the best thing to do is just tell him the stupid truth.

So, he tries to stand tall and takes a deep breath.

„Look, I haven’t found anyone to put me down since…“ how could he possibly tell perfect Oscar Piastri what a loser he was and that he hadn't found a Dom since Abu Dabhi to give him what he needed? „Well, since a while. And I really don’t want to repeat what happened before the last race, so please just let me do this in peace. It can’t possibly be in your interest for me to fuck up big time tomorrow and loose us the first race of the season, right?“ Honestly, he didn’t expect himself to sound so confident and collected, and suddenly he wonders if he’s even a bit too aggressive to soft and friendly and assumingly wanting-only-the-best-for-him Oscar.

The latter doesn’t seem at all shaken by his response.

„Of course that’s not in my interest“ he responds simply.

„But it’s also not in my interest for you to get taken advantage of by some stupid Australian Dom. I don't think it would leave you in any better shape if some idiot didn't take care of you properly tonight.“

So Oscar is really only here because he's worried about him. Even though it doesn’t ease the anger Lando feels for his inability to get a what he needs without anybody noticing, he has to admit it’s almost sickeningly sweet of him. And that he could end up in a compromising situation is probably true, which is the worst of all.

Lando sighs. „Look, I know it’s not the best possible situation, especially not with the race tomorrow, but there’s literally nothing I can do about it right now. Just go back to the hotel and let me-“
„So was it really that horrible for you?“ Oscar interrupts him.
Lando is startled by this remark. He’s pretty sure he looks at Oscar like the lights are on but nobody’s home.
„Well, in Abu Dhabi I mean.“ Oscar clarifies, voice low. „Was being put down by me really such a bad experience for you? Or why haven't you taken me up on my offer to do it again since?

Lando just stands there with an open mouth, unsure what to respond. Is Oscar offering to help him out of this misery again? Is he even a little hurt that Lando didn’t come to him in the first place? He decides that being too stunned to speak is definitely not what he wants to be right now.

„I- uhm- I didn’t- You mean-“
Wow, okay this isn’t much better though. Amazing job Lando Norris.
He takes a deep breath and starts again.
„No it… it was of course not horrible what you did for me in Abu Dhabi. I didn’t mean to seam like it was. I’m sorry if I did.“
„Okay.“ Oscar is still his ever composed self.
„Then why did you feel the need to come to this place tonight instead of asking me for help? If you didn’t know, I sleep like two rooms down the hall from you.“

Of course Lando knows. Unfortunately what he doesn’t know is what to answer to that. ‚Because I was too scared that you would be annoyed by my neediness, or that I would accidentally enjoy following your orders a little too much?‘

“I just, didn’t want to bother anybody with my stupid problems.” He admits.
Oscar stares at him sternly. “That’s such a dumb thing to say” he says. “You don’t have stupid problems, and you’re not bothering me. Don’t ever say that again.” Lando feels his cheeks heating up.

Luckily, Oscar decides to let him off the hook easily.
„Lets get out of here, okay?“ And with that, he just grabs Lando’s wrist and practically drags him out of the club, back up the stairs and back to their hotel.

 

---

 

When they enter the hotel elevator to get to the 6th floor, Lando doesn’t dare looking at Oscar. For some - probably screwed up - reason that he can’t really put his finger on, he’s so embarrassed by the whole situation. Apparently, he seems so lost and helpless that Oscar feels obliged to take care of him and follow him in the middle of the night through Melbourne to make sure he doesn’t get himself in trouble.

The silence between them in the crowded space of the elevator almost becomes unbearable for Lando and he shifts nervously from one leg to the other. Even without looking at Oscar, feeling the familiar composed and steady younger man’s presence next to him makes him feel even more inferior.

When they finally reach the 6th floor, Oscar leads the way down the hall to where their rooms are located.

“Your rooms probably better.” He states. “Like, more comfortable for you right?”

Lando doesn’t have the nerve to answer something, so he just nods and grabs his keycard from his back pocket. Oscar doesn’t bother to let him open the door, he just snatches the keycard out of his hand and does it himself.

Lando watches as Oscar holds the door open for him to enter, as if they are not about to do completely team-mate-inappropriate things in there. Lando himself is of course a nervous wreck and has to hold on to all his strength to not run back out right away.

The more he thinks about the whole situation, the more certain he is that there is no way Oscar would really want to be doing this right now. And he comes to the conclusion that he really must do something to stop the two of them from running into a situation they are both uncomfortable with.

Oscar because he’s not a fucking charity and himself… well, himself because of the way his heart has been doing little leaps every time Oscar has looked at him since Abu Dhabi.

„Oscar, you really don’t need to do this“ he tries again. „I can get what I need somewhere else, I really don’t want to be a burden to you and keep you from-“ he doesn’t get further than that, because Oscar practically leaps at him and shoves him (with a force that genuinely surprises Lando) back  and pins his wrists against the wall. He stares at him with a storm in his eyes. „Didn’t I tell you already that I don’t want to hear this nonsense about being a burden?“ Oscars voice is low and angry. Lando’s heart is pounding so loud, he’s sure everybody in the damn hotel can hear it.

He swallows hard. The way Oscar watches him makes him want to hide somewhere. And it doesn’t help that somewhere below his stomach something twists a little at Oscar’s authoritative voice.

Lando suddenly can’t remember why a couple of months ago, he couldn’t imagine Oscar domming anybody for real. Sure, he’s still got the kindest golden retriever eyes and so far Lando has never heard him raise his voice even a little bit in public. He’s always so calm and collected, you wouldn’t think he’s capable of lashing out like this.

But being pinned against the wall like this, by perfect Oscar Piastri, it makes perfect sense to him. Theres not the tiniest bit of a doubt that Oscar could dom the shit out of him without even really trying. If Lando were completely honest with himself, he’d admit that he wishes Oscar would do just that immediately, but who needs honesty right now?

With only the sound of their mutual breathing filling the silence of the hotel room, Oscar seems to remember something. He blinks a couple of times, then clears his throat and slowly lets go of the other man’s wrists. He steps back a little bit, releasing the pressure he put on Lando’s body. But he’s still so close Lando can feel his breathing on his face. The air between them is almost electric.

„Sorry.“ Oscars voice is a little raspy.

„Nothing to be sorry for“ Lando manages, almost breathless. Oscar still stares at him with those deep brown eyes, Lando can’t take it anymore. The intensity of the moment makes him want to get down on knees right then and there and beg Oscar to push him against a wall like that at least once a day. Not being able to endure the situation anymore, Lando is almost forced to break away and lower his gaze to the floor between them.

Apparently, Oscar is all but happy about that because almost immediately he grabs the smaller man’s chin and lifts his head back up so that Lando has no other choice than to face his deep brown eyes again. “Hey,“ Oscar starts slowly, clearly trying to offer comfort. „I’m sorry if that was a little out of line. I just- I. I don’t want you to feel that way. Like you are a burden to people just because... just because you’re a sub. I mean there’s really nothing bad about it and you obviously can’t help the fact that you need to go down from time to time and I’m honestly happy to offer you… some… help with that, you know? Like I-„ he pauses and seems to think for a moment. „I just mean, I’m your friend, right? Like it’s really no problem, so please don’t feel like a problem because you’re really not. Not for me.“

Lando knows Oscars trying his best to comfort him. But he can’t help the sinking feeling at those words.

‚I’m your friend, right?‘

Of course, it was oblivious of Lando to believe even for just one second that this whole thing could mean a little more to Oscar than just being a good friend to him. He’s a Dom after all, he doesn’t need another person to put him in his place every couple months. And of course, Lando is immensely grateful for Oscar offering his help... It is needless to say that objectively speaking, it’s way better to be with Oscar than to have to ask some random Dom at a club to put him down - facing the risk of being hurt by some ignorant Dom that can’t believe his luck of being in charge of the Lando Norris.

But still, he feels like he wants to burst into tears on the spot.

To his further detriment, Oscar seems to notice the sudden hesitation in Lando’s demeanor. „You okay?“ he asks and to make things worse, takes another step back and drops his hand from Lando’s face. „Look, it’s fine if you rather want to do it with someone else, I mean, I get that if it’s weird for you like this or whatever… I’m just saying that I would really prefer it if I knew that you’re safe. Like, since Abu Dhabi I feel this urge of wanting to take care of you with this… situation. “

Lando manages to take a deep breath. He knows Oscar is really trying his best to make the situation as bearable for Lando as possible. He owes it to him to try his best to improve the situation.

„No, I-“ of course he loses his voice and has to clear his throat before he can continue to talk, great performance Lando thank you.

„It’s not weird. I mean sure it is a little weird. But. Not like that. Like, I mean, it feels right. It felt good with you in in Abu Dhabi I mean. And I am really thankful that you’re even offering to do this for me again. As long as you promise me that it is not a pr-“ „Don’t you dare say it again!“ Oscar’s voice sounds dangerously calm and Lando’s stomach starts twisting and turning again.

„I mean it, I don’t want to hear you talking about yourself like that ever again.“ Oscar reaches out again to touch Lando’s face. „Let’s just agree that if any of this becomes too much for one of us, or it doesn’t feel right anymore, we’ll just say it and talk it out, okay? I don’t want you to question whether this is fine for me every time.“ Slowly, but with a reassuring certainty, Oscar's thumb strokes his cheek. Lando has to pull himself together to not drop to his knees right there from Oscar’s touch and voice alone.

„Yeah fine.“ He manages to say instead, clearing his throat again. „I’m going to try my best.“ He even manages to underline that with a small smile. He is rewarded with a small smile from Oscar.

He can see the change in Oscar’s demeanor, how he straightens up, his eyes turning a little more unyielding, but without losing the calming effect they have on Lando.

„Good boy.“

Oh god. Lando is in deep shit.

He wonders if he’ll be able to make it out alive of this mess that he’s gotten himself into.

Meanwhile Oscar steps back, grabs one of the pillows from the bed and drops it to the floor. Then he looks back up at Lando, who is still standing awkwardly next to the Door and doesn’t really know what to do with himself. Fortunately, Oscar knows.

„Get on your knees.“

Lando Shivers at the authoritative tone in Oscar’s voice. How could he not see Oscars Dom Qualities all this time, when it’s so obvious to him now. He wonders if he will be able to have a normal conversation with him ever again without longing to be on his knees for him.

“Did you not hear me?” Lando winces. Slowly he walks towards the pillow, taking a deep breath, feeling Oscars intense gaze linger over him.

When he stands in front of the pillow, right next to Oscar, he hestitates. Why was it so hard to give in to Oscar, when all he dreamt of for the past months was for exactly this to happen again?

He feels how Oscar lays a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? Is it too much?” he asks, voice a little softer now. Lando shakes his head. “No, its good. I just- I don’t know.”

Oscar looks him in the eyes with this searching, intense look.

“Talk to me Lando.“

“I just- i have a hard time letting go sometimes, like at the beginning usually. With faking being a Dom all the time and everything.“

„Oh. I didn’t think about it that way but I guess it makes sense.“ he lowers his hand from Lando’s shoulder down to his back.

„Just take your time then, okay? Or maybe… just tell me how I can help you to make it easier for you.“ It’s almost embarrassing how much Oscar tries to make Lando feel comfortable, as if he was a lost puppy.

Lando takes another deep breath. “Can you say it again?”

“What?” “Can you tell me to- you know- can you tell me- what to do again…?” Lando’s pretty sure his face turns bright read. He can feel Oscar smirk next to him. Then he switches from the comforting Oscar to the steadier and more vigorous Oscar again.

He brings his face very close to Lando’s, until Lando can feel his breath on the side of his face. “Lando” he almost whispers “get down on your knees. Now.”

A tremble goes through Lando’s body. He shivers. His knees give in, and without thought, from Oscar’s voice and command alone, he drops down on the pillow. And God, it feels so good to finally stop thinking and just do what he’s told. Although a small part of him is still not ready to let go completely. A small part of him still feels that he has to stick to his act and resist the supernatural force that tells him to just obey everything Oscar tells him.

From behind, Oscar’s hand brushes softly through his curls. “Good boy.”

Lando can’t help it. A little whimper escapes his mouth at those words.
He can literally feel Oscar smiling behind his back. Unwillingly, he feels himself holding back after that.

“Don’t you dare keep those noises to yourself” Oscar says, his voice a little rough. He tucks a little at Lando’s hair and is promptly rewarded with another small moan. Lando can hear Oscar sucking in a sharp breath.

Why does it seem like the other man is suddenly not completely unaffected by the scene?

But Lando doesn’t have time to think about it too long, as he already feels the familiar dizziness on his brain. He probably didn’t go down this quick since Daniel, and they had years of practicing together.

He goes down deep, with Oscar’s hand in his curls, tucking at them every once in a while, and his soothing voice, telling him what a good boy he is. For the first time in three months, he allows himself to let go.

 

---

 

When Oscar leaves Lando’s hotel room and enters his own a little later after slowly bringing Lando back up, trying to comfort him as much as possible, he lets himself sink down against the back of the door and buries his head in his hands.

He wonders what had happened to ‘it’s all perfectly fine‘.

He wonders what on Earth had gotten into him when he decided to follow Lando all the way through Melbourne and cause this whole scene. And then he practically forced himself onto him. Again.

The moment he saw Lando leaving his hotel room in the middle of the night he must’ve lost his mind.

But the moment he realized where Lando was heading and what exactly he was about to do, he just couldn’t help himself. The thought of Lando with some random Dom was just unbearable. Only because he couldn't stand the thought of Lando getting hurt, of course. It was obvious that Lando desperately needed someone to look after him and keep him out of a potentially dangerous situation.

It had been the right decision to drag him out of there.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Notes:

I don’t know why everybody in the first two chapters seems to be constantly nervous haha.
Maybe that'll change at some point, who knows...

Chapter 3: Shanghai 2025

Notes:

For some reason this took me forever to edit, even though I really enjoyed writing it.

Also, I watched the press conference yesterday and I shouldn't have done that, because now I know that they of course were not back in the UK after Melbourne, and they probably also didn't see each other during last week – but for story purposes we are going to ignore that 😊
For some reason I feel like I have to make this as realistic as possible in terms of the „F1 Driver Life“ but I know too little about that and probably just have to get used to the fact that it won't be very accurate for that matter. And for a lot of other matters as well haha.
Whatever, I'm too insecure about what I write, I'm trying to get better at that.
I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

China 2025

 

- Thursday –

 

The week after Melbourne had gone by in a fluke. The thrill of winning the first race of the season, especially with the hell of a race Melbourne had been, had carried Lando through the week.

He felt like being put down by Oscar had almost increased the endorphins rushing through his body after having the best possible weekend and the best start to the season. Maybe that had also been the reason why he had been so calm during the race, when a year ago, he would’ve probably messed it up at some point because he had almost always crumbled under the pressure. Whether that was the case or not, he finally felt at ease again after going down for Oscar on Saturday.

He was almost high on it.

Even though the whole team had met up frequently at the McLaren headquarters after the race, to work on some stuff before going to China on Thursday, he hadn’t seen Oscar too much all week.

So it took him till Thursday, when they sat on a private Jet together with Zack and some other people from Mclaren, to notice that Oscar was slightly more reserved than usual. Not that he was exactly bubbly normally. But after making a couple of the usual silly Lando-comments he couldn’t help but notice that Oscar seemed to not be fully there with him. He smiled at him a lot less than usual and it even seemed like he was avoiding eye contact with him at times. Instead, he seemed almost melancholic or something, staring out the window sternly for almost the whole flight.

It kind of killed Lando’s good mood a little bit.

After the time they had shared together on Saturday night, he had felt amazing all week. He had almost gotten used to the idea that Oscar could end up filling the gap Daniel had left behind. He had even started to think that he could rely on Oscar to take care of him.

The fact that Oscar seemed to be holding back now, not returning any of the subtle smiles Lando tried to send him on the plane, made him a little uneasy. He tried to shake it off, he wouldn’t let his perfect start to the season be ruined by some weird mood Oscar seemed to be in. And if Oscar had decided that the whole thing between them was too much for him after all, that was fine as well. Lando would deal with it somehow, as he had all his life until now. He already knew he could get by without having a permanent Dom. Even though it had felt good to believe he could finally stop worrying about all of his dynamic issues. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Oscars firm grip in his hair. His soothing, soft voice…

He tried to shake it off and focus on the race ahead of him.

 

---

 

The minute Lando arrived in his hotel room, he went through his usual ritual of arriving somewhere foreign for the weekend: he opened his suitcase and dispersed his stuff all over the room. He was not messy, he used to tell his mum when she tried to call him out on doing that, he just felt a lot more at home like this. And with being away all the time, every other weekend spent in a different place, he really needed something to make it a little more homely.

Max texted him and they agreed on going out for dinner. He briefly thought about inviting Oscar as well, but the Aussies reserved behaviour from earlier today had left him a bit unsettled. So, he doesn’t.

He was currently about to get ready for dinner in the bathroom, when he heard the incoming message tone from his phone that he had left on his bed. It was probably just Max texting him about dinner again. He finished touching up his hair before he came back to the room, dropped on the bed and looked through his messages.

 

Oscar [18:36]

Want me to come over later tonight?

As much as he was excited about hearing from Oscar, the message startled him. He had thought that Oscar was, for some reason that was not quite clear to him, in a bad mood and didn’t want to see him. It took him a moment to think of a good response.

Lando [18:41]

Sure, but to do what exactly?

Apparently, the thinking hadn’t worked very well. Immediately he felt stupid looking at his text. But deleting it now would be even worse. Luckily, Oscar replied before he could overthink it.

 

Oscar [18:41]

Well, we can just talk or something if you prefer, but I thought I could take you down again? It seemed to have a positive effect on your racing, you were very calm on Sunday.

How was it possible that just after Lando had come to terms with the fact Oscar might be out after all, he proved him wrong by showing how much he seemed to… well, care. So Lando wasn’t the only one who had noticed how positively Saturday night had seemed to affect his racing.

 

Oscar [18:42]

I just thought it might be better do it early on the weekend instead of a last straw kind of thing on Saturday night.

A warmth he was already familiar with settled in Lando’s chest. He wanted to run right over to Oscars room and beg him to put him down right now. Apparently, being cared for like that, having someone studying him carefully like this, noticing every little thing about him, did something for him. But he couldn’t possibly show Oscar how needy the thought of him taking him down made him. So he stayed cool. Or at least pretended to be cool.

Lando [18:44]

Yeah, sounds good.

A moment later, he looked at his message again and decided that the response was a little too cool considering that Oscar just offered him a great deal of help, completely selfless.

Lando [18:45]

I’m gonna get dinner in a second with Max, he just texted me he’s already here as well. Wanna join?

A response didn’t come immediately. Lando sat up on his bed, leaned against the headboard and looked around the room. Fuck, If Oscar would come over later his hotel room couldn’t look like a horde of racoons had been up to mischief in there, just after a couple of hours after he had arrived. Perfect Oscar Piastri would probably think he was still 15 years old. So he decided to put his things back into the suitcase after all, or one of the closets at least.  

It took a while until he got another message.

 

Oscar [18:57]

Would love too, but I already agreed to have dinner with Zack.

Lando furrowed his brow a little. That sounded weird, why would they go to dinner together and not ask him if he wanted to come along? But fine, he rather wanted to catch up with Max anyway.

Oscar [18:57]

Just text me when you get back. Then I’ll come over.

Lando [18:58]

Yes, sir 🫡

A second after hitting send he felt silly about it.

Lando [18:58]

That was intended to be ironic of course.

Oh God, what happened to staying cool? His heart started racing a bit when he there was no reply immediately. Why did he have to make it so weird?

Oscar [19:01]

Very funny. Have fun with Max.

Then another text a couple seconds later.

Be careful.

 

Lando couldn’t help but shiver slightly as he read that. For a brief moment, Lando wished he could go back to a time when his life had been easier. When perfect Oscar Piastri didn’t leave him completely confused every other day. He really had other things to worry about.  

 

---

 

When Lando stepped back into the hotel lobby after dinner and made his way to the elevator, he saw Zack at the other side of the lobby and waived at him. “Hey, you’re just back from dinner as well?” Zack greeted him. “Yeah, was out with Max.” Then he realised something. “Where’s Oscar?”

Zack looked a little confused. “I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him since we got here. I thought you guys would grab dinner together.” It took Lando a second to process that information. That was weird. Oscar did say he was going to have dinner with Zack, right? Or was he going crazy? He didn’t crash in Melbourne, so he could at least be sure that he didn’t have a concussion or something. He was so deep in thought that he didn't realise the elevator had arrived. He was standing in front of the open elevator doors, looking critically at the floor.

Zack put his hand in the elevator door to hold it open for him. “Do you want to come in or are you walking to the 10^th floor?” It brought Lando out of his trance. With a short “Oh yeah, sorry” he stepped into the elevator.

When he got back to his hotel room, he took a moment to gather himself. He changed out of his polo that he was wearing for dinner into some comfortable clothes. He even went to the bathroom to check his hair again, right before he shook his head at how silly he was behaving. It was just Oscar coming over. They had known each other since years, they had been teammates since two. And they had scened before, so it wasn’t really something to be so silly about. But this was the first time it would happen, like, intentionally. Like he knew that it was going to happen, it wouldn’t come as a surprise like the last two times. So he could just as well… prepare a bit.

When he felt more comfortable and had calmed his nerves a bit, he texted Oscar. Five Minutes later, there was a knock on his hotel room door.

Oscar was wearing some grey joggers and a white t-shirt that was a little tight on him. It showed off his toned arms. Since when did Lando care about Oscars arms?!

“Hey” Oscar said nonchalantly, leaning back against the door after it was closed, as if this was not Lando’s room but his own, fixing Lando with a stare that made something inside Lando stumble. “Hey” he answered, his voice cracking a little. Great start.

For a moment, they both just stood there in silence, looking at each other. Both figuring out how they were going to go about this.  

Finally, Oscar was the one to break the silence. “How was your week?”
Objectively, it was a weird for him to ask that. They had seen each other multiple times this week. They had seen each other almost all day today because they sat on the same freaking plane for 12 hours. But for Lando the question felt entirely justified. Throughout the week, they had seemed to live just side by side each other, both dealing with their own stuff. They hadn’t really connected in a way all week. But now they finally could.

“Good. Really good, honestly” Lando responded.
Oscar gave him a small smile. “Good, I’m happy to hear that.”

“And how was your week?” Lando asked and tilted his head. He wondered if Oscar would give away why he had been so reserved the past couple of days. It was barely noticeable, but Oscar’s gaze sharpened a little bit. The softness that had been in his eyes until just now had turned into something more severe. “Yeah, it was fine” he answered tersely. Lando was about to take a breath and press the topic a bit more. But before he could do that, Oscar took a step towards him, and the tension that developed between them made Lando forget everything he wanted to say. Gently, Oscar raised his hand and touched Lando’s shoulder. Lando couldn’t have moved even if he had wanted to. It was as if the room had frozen around him. What was this man doing to him?

Slowly, Oscar’s hand slid over his shoulder towards his neck. Lando could hear Oscar taking a deep breath. He looked at Lando, questioning, as if he wanted to say, “Is it okay for you if I do that?” and Lando gave him what he hoped was a reassuring look. Oscar fixed him with his golden retriever eyes and let his hand wander towards the back of his neck, where he increased the pressure just slightly. His grip was strong, and it settled something deep in Lando’s stomach that he didn’t even know needed to be settled. A shiver ran down his spine.

„I was thinking a bit about this.“

Fuck, Oscar had been thinking about him.

„You went down pretty easily the last two times, but both of these times you needed it kinda badly, because you hadn’t gone down in so long. But now your body probably doesn’t need it as much, right? So maybe we should try a little… more. Like just a bit to make it easier for you. I mean you already said you have a hard time letting go sometimes.“

Lando feels a warmth in his chest at Oscar showing him that he cares. Even though he doesn’t really agree. He just knows he will go down easy for Oscar every time, no matter what they do or don’t do. But at the same time, he can feel himself tensing up a little bit, not knowing what exactly Oscar intends to do with him. He remembers himself that Oscar is not someone he has to be scared of. It’s okay to trust him. Oscar wouldn’t hurt him.

„Yeah, okay“ he says a little breathless.

Oscar gives him a calming smile. „Just tell me when you’re uncomfortable with something” he says.

„Mhkey“ Lando responds. He already feels his mind floating from Oscar’s grip, his authoritative voice and the way he watches Lando with this almost familiar intensity.

Oscar tightens his grip on his neck a little. „I’m serious Lando, I need to be able to trust you to tell me if something doesn’t feel good for you.“

Lando tries to focus on Oscars words as much as he can. His hand on the back of his neck makes him feel so, so good.

„Yes, Oscar.“

He can hear Oscar drawing in a sharp breath. Fuck. The thought of his words having any effect on Oscar, possibly triggering something inside him even, makes him almost proud.

„Put your hands behind your back and keep them there.“ Oscar’s voice is soft but steady.
Lando almost escapes a moan at the command. He obeys, even if it takes him a moment, and grabs the wrist of his left hand with his right behind his back.

He watches as Oscar closes his eyes for a second and audibly breaths out. When he opens his eyes again, Lando can see that something has just changed about the way he carries himself. He looks steadier now, more sure of himself. More like Oscar again.
„Good boy“ he whispers. Lando’s pretty sure this man will be the death of him some day.  

“Stay there” Oscar says, his voice soft but commanding, leaving no room for objections. Then he walks around him until he stands behind Lando’s back.

The next thing Lando feels is Oscar grabbing his wrists and… holy shit was he tying him up? He feels something soft, silky wrapping around his wrists. Oscar must have brought whatever it was that he used to tie his wrists from his room, so he really must’ve thought about what he wanted to do tonight in advance. Lando shivers slightly at the thought of Oscar waiting for Lando to text him to come over, thinking about what he could do with him. With a jerk that makes Lando gasp, Oscar pulls whatever it is tight around Lando’s wrists. Lando feels him coming closer, still standing behind him, resting one hand on his tied wrists.

With his head just above Lando’s left shoulder he whispers in his ear “Is this okay for you?” His warm breath brushes Lando's face.

He almost can’t bring himself to answer that. He hates admitting how much he likes being under someone else’s control, how good it makes him feel. But Oscar was right, it helps him being restrained, because it allows him to stop feeling like he shouldn’t enjoy being dommed. It allows him to feel like he has no other choice but to obey. He can let his mind rest and let go.

So he just nods and hopes that Oscar will leave it at that. But of course, that’s not in line with Oscar’s agenda. The pressure on his tied wrists increases a bit. “Lando, I already told you that you need to talk to me.” Lando takes a deep breath. When he speaks up, he closes his eyes, as if that would make it feel like it’s not really him admitting that he likes being restrained by Oscar.

“Yes, it’s okay. It’s good.”

Oscar rewards him by bringing his hand up to his right shoulder, brushing over his arm softly on the way. “Thank you Lando. You’re being so good for me.” Fuck, Lando can already feel how all of it is working. His mind is slowly leaving his body for another place.

Oscar’s hand strokes over his shoulder again, caringly. Then Oscars hands leave his shoulder and his wrists, and he comes back into Lando’s sight. Lando has to actively keep his mouth closed to keep himself from whining audibly at the loss of Oscars touch and closeness. Why is everything that’s happening so fucking intense? Why does every single touch from Oscar seem to send little electric shocks through his body?

Meanwhile, Oscar grabs a pillow from the bed and drops it on the floor in front of him. Then he sits down on the edge of the bed. “Come here” he commands.

This time, Lando obeys without second guessing anything. He comes to stand behind the pillow, in front of Oscar, who looks up at him with his deep brown eyes. For a brief moment, they just look at each other, stare into each other’s eyes, and it’s like everything else around them blurs. Lando almost forgets to breath for a second. Oscars eyes are so captivating, he could almost-

“Get on your knees for me.”

His knees give in easily and Lando drops down onto the pillow. Like before in Australia and in Abu Dhabi, Oscar puts a hand in his hair and tugs at his curls lightly. Abruptly, Lando realizes how tense he has been until now, with all that tension leaving his body as Oscar grips his hair. It all feels so familiar to him already, Oscar looking down on him from above, one hand in his hair. It’s easy for him to relax into Oscars touch, to let everything go. The ties around his wrists doing their part, keeping him from worrying about whether or not he should allow himself to enjoy the scene.

Oscar makes him feel so comfortable, so confident in his position.

“Can I rest my head against your knee?” he asks a little hesitantly, voice low and hoarse. Oscar gives him a small smile. “Of course. You’re being so good Lando, speaking up about what you want.” A warmness settles in Lando’s chest at those words. Oscar loosens his grip in Lando’s hair so he can lean forward and rest his forehead against Oscar’s leg. He closes his eyes. Carefully, Oscar strokes over his head. Lando's breathing becomes calmer and deeper.

 

 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been out of it when he realizes he’s coming back up. He hears Oscars voice from afar, soothing him with caring words.

He almost doesn’t want to get up. He would rather listen to Oscar telling him how good he is a little longer. But he slowly raises his head. His neck and shoulders hurt from the weird position he had been in for… “How long was that?” he asks, his voice cracking from not having been used.

“About 40 Minutes” Oscar says. His eyes glisten slightly as he looks at Lando, stroking his head gently. “I’m going to untie you, okay?” Lando nods. Oscar gets up from the bed and bends down behind him, releasing Lando’s tied hands. Slowly, Lando starts moving his shoulders. He’s so stiff. Oscar seems to notice immediately that he is in pain and puts his hands on his shoulders, slowly kneading the muscle there to release the tension. Lando hums a little at the treatment. Oscar is one freaking saint of a Dom. He never would’ve thought scening could be so… comforting. Even with Daniel, which was like the longest Dynamic Relationship he had had so far, it wasn’t… like this. Daniel had been- Different.

“Wanna get up?” Oscar snaps him out of his thoughts. Lando nods and slowly stands up. He can feel Oscar behind his back, ready to steady him if needed.  

He lays down on his back on the bed, and Oscar sits back down next to him, watching him. For a moment, they both remain in that position in silence. Then Lando takes a deep breath. “That was-“ before he can finish his sentence, Oscar interrupts him. “You don’t have to talk about it, if that’s hard for you.” Then he seems to realize something. “Oh, unless you didn’t like it of course. I mean, you were down so deep that I just assumed it must’ve been good for you. But if that’s not-“ now Lando is the one interrupting him. “You’re right. I did… like it.” Oscar’s stance relaxes with relieve. “Okay, good. It would be fine if not, but I thought if it’s hard for you to let go, maybe this would be a way to make it easier.” It’s hard for Lando to believe how much thought Oscar had put into it, even though there was no apparent reason for him to be interested in how Lando was doing. The room falls silent again.

“Thank you” he says after a while. Had he even thanked Oscar properly yet for what he had already done for him?
“I know this is probably not how you want to spend your-“
“Don’t you dare say anything to the effect that you are a problem” Oscar says firmly, fixing Lando with his deep brown eyes. The authoritative tone of Oscar's voice makes Lando hold his breath for a moment. Then he breaks their eye contact and looks up at the ceiling.

“Do you want to stay a little longer?”

It takes a moment for Oscar to answer. “I don’t know,” he says hesitantly. “I, like, don’t want to invade your space.”

Lando rolls his eyes at him. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you here. I’ll let you know if you ever invade my space, okay?” Oscar lets out a laugh. “Alright, you’re definitely back up.” He looks a little unsure for another second, then he slowly lays down next to Lando, who slides a little to the side to make more room for him. However, the hotel bed is not exactly huge, so they lay quite close to each other. Lando feels Oscar’s body next to him.

For a moment they just lay there. Lando on his back, looking up at the ceiling, and Oscar on his side, one arm under his head, face turned towards Lando.

Eventually Lando breaks the silence. “Why did you lie to me about dinner?”

Oscar looks startled. “What?”

“You told me you were already meeting Zack for dinner when I asked you whether you wanted to join Max and me. But that was a lie, I saw Zack on my way back here and he said he hadn’t talked to you since we left the plane. So why did you lie?”

Oscar doesn’t answer for a while. Lando can hear him letting out a deep breath. “I-“ he clears his throat.

“Honestly, I just didn’t want to have dinner with the two of you at that moment.”
Lando shifts his head to the side, so he can look Oscar in the eyes. That melancholic look from earlier is back on his face.  All of a sudden it dawns on Lando. “Is it because of Melbourne?”

It's almost as if they changed roles at that moment. While it’s usually hard for Lando to look Oscar in the eyes and talk about something, it now seems to be Oscar's turn to be insecure about his feelings. He turns to lay on his back to escape Lando’s gaze. Now he’s the one looking up against the ceiling, while Lando looks at him from the side.
“Yeah, kind of” he admits quietly.

“It just felt impossible to get dinner with the race winner and the runner-up.”

Lando feels so stupid. All week he had been happy and chirpy about his first win of the season, without thinking for one second about how Oscar must’ve felt about that. He had even wondered why Oscar suddenly had seemed so reserved all week, without thinking of the most obvious fucking reason.

Lando takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts before he speaks up carefully.
“You know it wasn’t your fault? I mean, it was a mistake, sure, but mistakes happen to all of us sometimes. Remember how many stupid mistakes I made last year? Nobody’s perfect, and you’re still learning and all. Like-” he tries to give his voice a teasing tone “you're still young you know?”

Oscar smiles a little at that. But quickly his face turns serious again.

“Yeah, I know. But… I just wish I would have made that mistake another time. I keep thinking, what if that was my one shot at winning my home race or even making the podium? And I fucked it up at like the last moment. I feel like I let everyone down.”

Without thinking it through, Lando reaches out his hand and rests it on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar quivers slightly before he lets himself relax into Lando’s touch. “You didn’t let anyone down. Did you see the video where the crowd is cheering when you got the car out of the grass? They fucking love you, Osc. Making the podium in Melbourne or not making the podium ever will not change that.” He thinks for a second. “And by the way, I’m certain that you will make the podium there one day. You have already proven that you can win races, so there’s no reason why you shouldn’t get that shot in Melbourne again.”

Oscar closes his eyes. “I hope you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
Oscar laughs a little. “Is that so?”

Lando doesn’t answer. He just smiles at him and closes his eyes. He’s so tired all of a sudden.

He is on the verge of falling asleep when he feels Oscar shift again. Is he leaving? Intuitively, without thinking enough to stop himself, he grips onto Oscar’s shoulder tighter. He says something along the lines of “don’t leave”, slurred by his sleepiness. Oscar stops moving.

Lando is so tired he can’t keep himself from falling asleep anymore. The last thing he notices is how Oscar lays an arm around his waist. And how good that weight on him feels.
And he could be imagining it, being already half asleep as he is, but it feels as if Oscar’s lips are brushing his forehead, just briefly, feather light.

Notes:

Happy Race weekend everyone 😊

Has Lando Norris ever worn a polo shirt??? It doesn’t feel like it, like I can't really imagine it but in my head it looked cute so that’s what he wore to dinner hahaha. And I did include some content from Melbourne after all with the heartbreaking Oscar situation, I think it really benefits their relationship.
Let’s pray that this weekend will end up better for Osc.

Chapter 4: Shanghai 2025 - Aftermath

Notes:

Bit shorter chapter today, but I didn't want to drag this along with me till Japan. Or whenever the next chapter will arrive.
Two weeks feels like a long time, we'll see what happens...

Shanghai 2025 - Aftermath

- Sunday night -

On the Podium in Shanghai, Lando realizes that he is the happiest version of himself when his body is sticky with champagne. Especially when it’s Oscar spraying him with it. He still has to look at the panel every other minute to believe they actually made the 1-2 happen. No one made a stupid mistake, no one screwed it up, no one has to feel miserable throughout the next two weeks until Suzuka. They can both just be happy today. A perfect weekend.

Well, of course he would’ve loved to give Oscar a little bit more of a hard time for the win, but he’s just so incredibly happy for him. Especially after Thursday night, he doesn’t know how Oscar would’ve handled it if there was a similar incident to Melbourne this weekend. But then again, its Oscar. Lando doesn’t know where a 23-year-old gets so much mental strength from, but he’s sure Oscar would’ve been fine no matter how it turned out. His comeback this weekend after what happened in Melbourne was proving that.

But standing on the podium with Oscar, drowning him in champagne, he also realizes something else about himself. He realizes the desire, the wish that they could just be alone right now. He realizes that they won’t be seeing each other for almost two weeks. He would rather spend those moments with Oscar’s hand in his curls. He would even prefer that to the champagne.

He decides right then, while Oscar is trying to duck away from him emptying the champagne bottle above his head, that he needs a moment to be alone with Oscar again, if only for a few minutes, before they both head off to their respective homes. Why exactly did Oscar not move to Monaco yet?

So, after what feels like answering the millionth reporters’ questions about the race, saying the exact same things for the millionth time today, when he’s finally at peace in his driver’s room, he hurries like he has a flight to catch. He gets out of his fireproofs, showers as if he was a climate activist trying to save up as much water as possible, and changes into his jeans and a hoodie. He takes one last quick look in the mirror, ruffles through his curls again, and leaves his drivers room to sneak into Oscars. He just hopes that nobody’s seen him.

In his haste, of course he didn’t think that it would’ve been polite to knock before entering. Oscar sits on the little couch in his driver’s room and talks to… someone? It takes Lando a couple of confused blinks before he realizes he’s on the phone with someone. He wonders if he should just leave again and give Oscar his privacy back that he invaded without a second thought. But Oscar looks at him with a shimmer in his eyes, smiling, as if he wants to say ‘stay, I’ll be with you in a second.’
Why does Oscar sound like an insurance agent in his head?

“Yeah, of course really proud, very happy.” Oscar says into the phone. Of course he’s talking about the race with someone. The other person talks for a while, Lando can hear some high voice. Oscar leans back and breaks their eye contact, focusing his gaze on the floor in front of him, but the smile staying on his face. It takes a while before the person on the other end finishes talking. “Yeah, I miss you too.” Oscar’s voice turns slightly softer, vulnerable. Not as pragmatic as usual. Who is he talking to?

“Yeah. Yeah. See you soon. Yeah, me too. Bye.” He hangs up. Suddenly, Lando feels like an intruder at a secret meeting. He doesn’t really have time to grasp the feeling that is creeping up in his stomach, because Oscar throws his phone on the couch besides him and looks back up at him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice just as soft as it had been to the other person on the phone.

“Hey, “ Lando says and fuck, he doesn’t manage to hide the growing uneasiness in his voice.
Oscar notices immediately, his gaze turning serious. Concerned. “What’s wrong?” he asks bluntly. That’s not how Lando had planned the situation in his head. Well, of course he hadn’t planned anything at all. He had run into Oscars room without any concrete intention in his mind. Of course.

“Nothing.” He tries to sound as carefree as possible, but he can tell from the look on Oscars face that he’s not very convincing. “Just- I didn’t want to intrude anything.” He admits and just hopes he sounds as chill as he would like to be. Oscar looks at him, startled for a second, until his eyes widen a bit and he relaxes visibly. “Oh. Well, you didn’t.” It’s followed by moment of silence, Lando shifting from one leg to the other uncomfortably, still standing next to the door. The crowded space of the room suddenly felt like it was about to crush him.

“That was just my mom.” Oscar says, fixing Lando with his eyes. Lando prays that he’s only imagining the slightly amused look in Oscar’s eyes.

“Oh. Cool.” Lando Norris, you’re such an idiot. “Yeah,” Oscar says, and now Lando is sure that Oscar is in fact amused about something, even if he obviously tries his best to supress the grin that makes his way to his face.  

Time to bring out all the acting Lando had so carefully practiced over the years.

 “Bet she’s very happy for you,” he says and tries his best to gloss over his embarrassment about the whole situation. What was he even thinking? That Oscar had some secret sub-girlfriend somewhere that he just hadn’t mentioned until now?

“Yeah,” Oscar responds, the grin turning into a softer smile again. “Really proud and all, you know how parents are. She probably will still say the same stuff after my 100^th podium, if I ever make it that far.”

Lando huffs a small laugh. “I’d bet on you.”
Oscar smiles thankfully at that.

When Lando lets his gaze rest on Oscars eyes for a second, he suddenly remembers what he actually came here for.
“I am too, by the way,” he says. Oscar looks at him questioningly. “You are what?”
Lando clears his throat before he answers.
“Happy. For you. Proud. And all that. You know.” Full sentences Lanod, they taught you how to speak in full sentences in preschool or something. “You really had the perfect weekend.”

 “Yeah,” Oscar says, slightly melancholic. “Honestly, I’m super relieved.” He lets out a deep breath, lets his head fall back against the wall behind him and looks up towards the ceiling. “I know everybody thinks that I’m, like, super chill with everything. But it gets to me too. Like, obviously it gets to me too. The whole Melbourne situation and all, it really left me in no good place for a while.”

Lando tries to give him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I know.”
The moment he says it, it fills his chest with some weird warmth.
Yes, he knows. He knows because Oscar had told him. He had told him on Thursday night. Lando had seen a side of Oscar that everybody else, the public, maybe even the rest of McLaren, weren’t allowed to see. And Oscar seems to think something similar because he smiles at the ceiling as if he is a little shy, but also happy about Lando’s words.

Lando feels himself relaxing a bit, the tension that had built up so quickly over the past five minutes leaving his body again. He lets himself lean against the back of the door.

“What are you going to do the next two weeks?” he asks. Oscar lifts his head again and directs his eyes to some point on the floor between himself and Lando.
With Oscars eyes directed at the floor, Lando stares on Oscar’s hair instead.
This hair. It’s a little messy from his helmet, he probably didn’t have the time to fix it yet. For the first time, Lando notices how badly he wants to run a hand through Oscar’s hair-

“Just the usual stuff, nothing special,” Oscar interrupts his thoughts, “I have some stuff to do back at home, but nothing major. Other than that, just the usual training stuff.” Lando just nods at that. “Do you have any special plans? Any extraordinary rich people stuff going on in Monaco at the moment?” The teasing tone is back in Oscar’s voice. Lando rolls his eyes at the snarky remark. “One day you’ll leave your unjust aversion against Monaco behind and come there too, and then I will tell you that I’ve known it all along, and then you’ll have to live your life forever with that in the back of your mind. You’ll never be able to walk the street to your apartment without thinking about me.” Oscar laughs. “I guess we’ll see that.”

They both enjoy the silence around the room for a moment, kind of together, but apart from each other at the same time. Lando really doesn’t want to leave.  

„Will you be okay for two weeks?“ Oscar suddenly asks with a concerned look on his face.
Lando hates himself, hates being a sub for the millionth time in his life. He hates being dependent on others like this, hates that apparently Oscar feels the duty to worry about whether Lando will be okay for two weeks on his own. Hates that he’s such a liability. But he can’t show Oscar that. So, he shrugs it off with a laugh.

„Oh Osc, come on. I’ve been fine with it way longer than that on my own, I can deal with two weeks.“

The truth is, he’s not sure if he can deal with two weeks. He probably could’ve spent this weekend without going down, but he can’t deny that he was extremely relieved that Oscar had offered his help on Thursday night and that he didn’t have to worry about it over the weekend.

Oscar also doesn’t seem to buy it either. He still looks at Lando as if Lando could not be trusted with his own life.

“There’s really no need to worry about me. Enjoy your week off, give England my best regards and all. I heard it’s going to rain a lot all week. You’ll probably think about moving to Monaco sooner as we thought.” Lando just hopes that Oscar will let it go. He really hates talking about his sub issues.

“Okay, fine.” Thank God.

Oscar gets up from his place on the couch and comes closer towards Lando. “But,” Oh no, here we go.
“Promise me that you will let me know if somethings wrong and I can do anything about it.” Oscar brings his hand up to touch Lando’s face. Fuck, Lando wants to ease into that subtle touch, he wants to tell Oscar to keep his hand right there forever. Finally, he’s getting exactly what he came to Oscar's room for.

“And,” Oscar adds, “promise me you won’t go to somebody else. I mean, like, no random dom from some shady club, okay? I don’t trust rich-ass Monaco doms.”
“You don’t seem to trust any other doms. You called the Australians idiots as well, do you have a superiority complex or something?”

Oscar doesn’t quite manage to repress the smile on his face. “Well, I just know how many idiots are walking around on this planet.”

“Well, I think I would pretty confidently count me as one of them.“ Lando says and Oscar smirks. That fucking smirk. “Yeah, I guess that’s accurate.” They share one of these moments where they just look at each other, the world around them seeming to stand still.

“Hey,” Oscars says, breaking the silence and increasing the grip on his face just slightly. “You didn’t do what I told you yet. Promise me you’ll call and promise me you won’t go out to find somebody else if you don’t feel well.”

Lando forces himself to look Oscar straight in the eyes. “I promise, Oscar.”

The look on Oscar’s face softens. “That’s a good boy,” he says, his voice just slightly teasing, but still eliciting a smile from Lando.

Oscar seems to ponder something in his mind for a second. Pretty abruptly, he pulls Lando into a tight hug. Lando unwillingly tenses for a moment at the sudden movement. But when he feels Oscar’s hand sneak its way to the back of his neck, he can’t help but relax into Oscars arms. He takes in a deep breath, tries to memorise Oscar’s smell, tries to store it somewhere inside of him so he can pull it out during the next two weeks when he needs it. But at the same time, he feels himself pulling back, if even just a tiny bit. Some small but distinct part of him is apparently not ready to feel the things he feels when Oscar hugs him. Some part of him resents the vulnerability he’s letting in by allowing himself to be so close to Oscar.

“Text me, okay?” Oscar says against Lando’s ear, pulling Lando out of his thoughts and back into the moment. “Just let me know how you are at some point, let me know that you are okay.” Lando allows himself to take another deep breath. “Yes, I will.”

He can feel Oscar increasing the pressure on his neck just a little for a moment before he pulls away. As if that was their way of saying goodbye. Lando has to force himself to not look Oscar in the eyes again after they let go. He’s too scared he might drown in them.

Why does it feel like he is about to lose one of his childhood plushies?! They are going to see each other again in a little less than two weeks, there’s really no reason to cry about it. Grow the hell up, Lando Norris!

Then he leaves.

Notes:

Will there ever be an Oscars POV ever again? We do not know yet but we will find out haha.
For some reason Landos POV comes way easier for me, even though I really try to find a way to include Oscars perspective more.

Always happy to read some comments :)

Chapter 5: Suzuka 2025 Part 1

Notes:

Omg, the beginning was so fun to write. If you want my advice, look at the timestamps, I think they are very revealing haha.
I tried to match their personalities a bit more as well, don’t know if it worked.

Pre-Suzuka 2025

- Thursday, March 27 -

 

Oscar [13:26]

Remember when I told you to text me at some point and let me know how you are und you said you would?

Lando [13:30]

Uh, I agreed to that? I really cannot remember.

Oscar [13:38]

You’re annoying.

Lando [13:39]

And you’re not my mom.

 

 

Oscar [21:04]

Seriously, how are you?

Lando [21:07]

Still not my mom.

 

Lando [22:35]

Okay, I’m sorry. Sometimes I feel the need to act like a child.

Oscar [22:37]

Not that that’s new.

Lando [22:38]

Admit it, you like that about me. It’s one of the many things that makes me so fun to be friends with.

Oscar [23:41]

I want to repeat what I said earlier today.

You’re annoying.

Lando [22:38]

🧡

 

 

- Friday, March 28 -

Lando [11:33]

I am fine by the way.

Oscar [11:34]

What exactly does fine mean?

 

Oscar [15:16]

Come on, what am I supposed to do with ‘fine’?

Lando [15:16]

Stop treating me like a 5-year-old on the way to his first day of school would be my suggestion.

Oscar [15:19]

Literally impossible.

You said it yourself, you behave like a child.

Lando [15:24]

Well, I have to do my math homework now, so talk to you later mommy.

 

Lando [17:36]

How are you by the way?

Oscar [17:43]

Fine.

Lando [17:45]

Oh fuck you.

Oscar [17:46]

Give them a taste of their own medicine, they say.

 

Lando [17:46]

Who says that? I want to punch him in the face.

Oscar [17:46]

You should really do something about your anger issues.

 

Lando [17:48]

You should really do something about your helper syndrome.

Oscar [17:51]

Should’ve done that years ago, would’ve spared me a lot of trouble.

 

Oscar [19:04]

You know I didn’t mean that, right?

You’re obviously not trouble.

Lando [19:06]

I spent the last 2 hours crying about how mean you are to me.

 

Oscar [19:07]

🙄

Lando [19:07]

I want you to know that you are a horrible person, and you should be ashamed of yourself.

 

Lando [22:15]

Just kidding, you’re fine.

 

Oscar [22:17]

Thank you for clarifying.

Lando [22:17]

And I kind of like your helper syndrome.

Oscar [22:19]

I’m glad.

Lando [22:38]

Good night, mommy.

Oscar [22:39]

I hope you’ll have a really bad nightmare.

Lando [22:41]

I hope that you sleep like a baby. 🧡

 

Lando [23:33]

Actually, did you know that’s a very shitty idiom? Apparently, babies are incredibly light sleepers.

Oscar [23:34]

What happened to good night, mommy? It’s way past your bedtime already.

 

Lando [23:37]

You will make a great parent someday.

 

Oscar [23:38]

You think?

Lando [23:39]

You’ve mastered the nagging already.

Oscar [23:40]

Go to sleep Lando.

Lando [23:40]

🫡

 

- Sunday, March 30 -

Lando [20:31]

What are you doing the next couple days?

 

Oscar [20:31]

What’s wrong?

Lando [20:35]

Just two days without talking to you and I almost forgot how annoying you are.

Oscar [20:35]

Cut the crap Lando.

I mean it.

Lando [20:37]

Imagine me sighing and rolling my eyes at you.

 

Lando [20:38]

Everything is fine, nothing is wrong, I’m good, no need to worry.

Oscar [20:40]

Okay, why the question then?

Lando [20:41]

Can’t a friend ask his friend what he’s doing the next week?

Lando [20:45]

I had lunch with Max today. We want to play some Padel before Japan. Charles is in as well, but we’re lacking a fourth player.

 

Lando [20:47]

Your chance to do some Monaco rich people shit.

Oscar [20:50]

I suck at padel.

Lando [20:51]

Yeah, we know.

 

Lando [21:02]

Would still be funny though.

 

Lando [21:08]

I have a guest bedroom.

Oscar [21:11]

I bet you have 3.

Lando [21:15]

2.

Lando [21:17]

You can have both if you want.

Lando [21:54]

And you can join us on the jet to Japan on Thursday.

 

Oscar [23:31]

I could come over on Tuesday.

 

Lando [23:36]

Cool.

Lando [23:51]

I’m happy that you want to come.

Oscar [23:53]

Yeah, don’t overwhelm me with your emotions.

Lando [23:54]

Good night, Osc.

Oscar [23:54]

Good night, Lando.

 

Oscar [23:58]

🧡

 

-Tuesday, April 1 -

 

On Tuesday after lunch, Lando drives down to Nice to pick up Oscar from the airport.

He decided to go with his more undercover car, the Porsche Carrera GT, but he’s not sure it’s working, he feels people staring at him when he stands next to his car outside on the parking lot. Maybe he should consider buying, like, a VW Golf at some point for days he doesn’t want attention.

 

Oscar [14:16]

I hate to admit it, but the weather really is nicer than in England.

Lando [14:16]

Where are you?

Oscar [14:17]

Nice.

Lando [14:17]

Very funny.

Oscar [14:17]

I’ll be out in 2 minutes.

Lando [14:17]

I’m waiting in the parking lot.

Lando [14:18]

I took my undercover car though, you might not find me.

Oscar [14:18]

I see, very undercover indeed.

 

Lando looks up from his phone to the airport entrance, and spots Oscar with his suitcase. For a brief moment, Lando dreads the possible awkwardness of the situation. They had rarely met up like this, privately, ever before. And never since they started scening.

Luckily, Oscar spares him the trouble of overthinking the situation when he pulls Lando almost naturally in a close hug as soon as he arrives at the car.

Lando relaxes instantly. Even after spending 3 hours on a plane Oscar smells so good.

“Hey,” Oscar whispers in his ear. They break apart and Lando forces himself to look into the golden retriever eyes. “Hey,” he says, suddenly feeling all shy and insecure again. Oscar gives him a warm smile. Then he takes a step back to look at Lando’s car.

“If this is your ‘undercover car’ I really don’t want to see your other cars.”

“Told you you’re good at nagging.”

It’s weird to bring up their texts from the past days. Lando feels like they have created something weirdly intimate over their texts that he can’t quite convey into the real world yet.

They put Oscar’s suitcase into the way too small trunk and get in the car.

“Can you even drive a normal car?” Oscar asks while he reaches for the seatbelt. “I must’ve caught you on your funny day.” Lando replies flatly, but not without amusement. “Thats the south France weather,” Oscar says lightly.

They pull out of the parking lot and onto the highway towards Monaco. Lando can see Oscar looking out of the window from the corner of his eye. He notices when Oscar turns his head to look at him. “How are you?”

Lando tries to focus on the road. “Good.” He feels Oscar staring at him from the side. Unintentionally, he clenches onto the stirring wheel a little tighter. Oscar staring at him like that makes him only a little bit uncomfortable. He expects that Oscar will say something else towards the topic, but he eventually turns his head towards the window again. Lando relaxes a little. He wonders how he could’ve thought that inviting Oscar here wouldn’t have him in a complete turmoil for days.

It takes about half an hour before they pull up to the underground garage of Lando’s apartment complex. He grabs Oscars suitcase from the trunk and points towards the elevator for Oscar to go to. Oscar hesitates a second, looking at his suitcase in Lando’s hands. For a moment, Lando expects him to rip the suitcase out of his hands and carry it himself. To be fair, Lando’s behaviour is not exactly perfect submissive behaviour and for a moment he’s almost scared that he is not a good sub for Oscar. Until he remembers that he isn’t Oscars sub. But Oscar doesn’t say anything, after a moment he just walks towards the elevator and presses the button to open the door. “Which floor?” he says when the doors open. “Penthouse,” Lando answers. Oscar looks smug. “Of course,” he says, and presses the button for the top floor.

Oscar is not sure what to say when they enter the apartment. He knew Lando’s apartment wouldn’t be plain and small, he is an F1 driver himself, he kind of has an idea of Lando’s salary, and he knows Lando likes luxury, but he’s still a little baffled, nonetheless.

The entrance leads them directly into a spacious living area with an open kitchen. Theres a huge dining table with way too many chairs and an enormous couch in front of a huge window facade with direct view on the city with the mediterranean sea behind it. The apartment is mostly white and clean with some white marble details, a little too sterile almost. To say the least, Oscar thought it looked just like one of these typical pre-decorated rich people apartments. But as he takes it all in, he spots little bits and pieces of Lando dispersed everywhere, evidence that this is actually Lando’s apartment and not just some model for pictures in a magazine for interior design. It’s one of his hoodies on the floor of the hallway that leads towards some other rooms. His sunglasses on the little table right next to the entrance. A little miniature F1 car on the sideboard in the living room area. His trophy from Austria 2020, his first F1 Podium on one of the sideboards. While Oscar takes his time taking it all in, letting the feeling of being inside Lando’s apartment, his most private space, sink in, he doesn’t notice right away how Lando is watching him.

He stepped into the open kitchen, leaning against the huge kitchen isle with his back, keeping his eyes on Oscar as he slowly walks through the room.

“Want some water?” he asks, breaking the silence in the room that was about to make him a little bit uncomfortable. “Sure.”
Relieved to have something to do and to focus on for a second, Lando reaches for the cupboards to get a glass.

“This is a nice apartment,” Oscar says. “Yeah,” Lando mumbles, handing him his glass of water, “It’s alright.” Oscar snorts a laugh. “You little Monaco snob.” Lando shrugs his shoulders, not sure what to say to that. He’s still trying to process how he feels about having Oscar here, in his apartment, in his own space. Not in his driver’s room, in his F1 life, surrounded by other F1 people, but in his real life. And he doesn’t know how to feel about Oscar saying things like that, in this teasing but fondly way. On one hand, it feels way too intimate for Lando’s liking, but then again, it makes something heat up inside of him. But he realizes slowly that he really wants Oscar to be here, he wants Oscar to see his real life, to be able to see him this way.

“Are you going to give me a tour?”

“There's actually not that much.” Lando walks towards the hallway, nonetheless. Oscar follows him.
“I have my gaming equipment in that room,” he points towards the first room down the hall, “and the two rooms behind that are the guest bedrooms. He opens one of them. “You can choose which one you want.” Oscar wonders if he’s only imagining the slight hesitation in Lando’s voice when he says it. He takes a look around the room. There's a queen-size bed and a huge closet, a sideboard with some weird-looking but probably expensive art stuff, and a huge window with a view over the city. To sum it up, it’s just as clean and lifeless as the living room area. “Nice,” he says nonetheless,s and Lando nods. They walk further down the hall, and Lando shows him the huge bathroom. The small stair at the end of the hallway leads towards a second living area, with two more gigantic sofas and another terrace. When they come back down to the hallway, Lando walks towards the door on the right side, the one he hasn’t explained yet. “Well, and that’s my bedroom.”

Oscar briefly wonders when humanity started to lose proportion of bed sizes. He’s pretty sure Lando’s bed is as big as his entire childhood bedroom. He can’t help but wonder what Lando would look like tied to the headboard.

Theres also a big walk-in closet and an en-suit bathroom, and another balcony (Who the fuck has an apartment with three balconies?). When Oscar finishes letting his gaze wander over the room, taking it all in, his eyes come to a halt on Lando’s face. Lando leans against the door frame. The look on his face is almost a little shy, as if he was worried about Oscar’s reaction to his private space. Oscar can’t help but smile a little. ‘Does he even know how adorable he is?’ goes through his brain. He really has to focus on not giving in to his intrusive thoughts of just gripping Lando’s curls and forcing him down to his knees right there. He’s already longing for Lando to be at his mercy again. A week without it is apparently too long.

“Do you want to get ice cream?” Lando interrupts Oscar’s thoughts. Oscar looks at him and thinks it through, way longer than normal people should think about whether they want ice cream or not.

“We should really not get ice cream.”
Lando rolls his eyes at him. “Where’s the fun in being a good professional athlete at all times?” Oscar huffs a small laugh. “Okay, fine, but only one scoop.”
“Oh, come on, that’s not fair,” Lando whines.
“Think about your race pace on Sunday, maybe that helps,” Oscar offers. Lando squints his eyes at him. “You are even more obsessed with being an F1 driver than Max.”

Oscar just smiles. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Oscar really lets him have only one scoop of ice cream and Lando has a hard time shutting up about it. The only thing that gets him to stop complaining is when Oscar lets him have some of his scoop as well.

The more time they spend together, just the two of them, doing casual things, the more comfortable the atmosphere between them becomes. Lando visibly relaxes over time.

They walk to the harbour together, talking about- well, about everything. About their parents, about Oscar’s time growing up in Australia, about their time in karting, even about Lando’s first girlfriend from high school, which was a disastrous phase because he hadn’t quite managed faking the dom-attitude quite yet, which had only exacerbated the usual awkwardness of first relationships. And Lando notices how much he needed this, how much he wanted to spend time with Oscar like this, how good it feels to open up to Oscar like this.

And almost imperceptible Oscar always stands a few centimetres closer to him than necessary. Their hands touch a little more often than they would if it was accidentally. Lando briefly wonders if this is some kind of undercover dom-power-trip from Oscar. He wonders if it’s hard for Oscar to walk with him like this, if he has to hold himself back from gripping Lando’s neck in public, if this is something Oscar would need with a sub. With his sub. Because that’s something Lando wouldn’t ever be able to give to him. Then again, he wonders why he’s even thinking about this. Oscar is just helping him out, he doesn’t need him to be his sub. That’s not in the cards for them. But he doesn’t know if keeping that in mind makes it easier for him or if it makes him feel worse.

They meet Max and Charles for Padel, and of course Oscar sucks, like, big time. Lando constantly calls him out for fucking up their game, but in a light, affectionate way. It seems like they just can’t stop the friendly banter that is going on between them. Oscar can’t believe he’s so lucky to get to see Lando so happy like this after the past months probably haven’t been easy for him.

Max and Charles are cracking up about them.

At the end of the day, Lando is just really happy that he asked Oscar to come.

They briefly talk about when they want to meet tomorrow to fly to Japan, and then Oscar and Lando head back towards Lando’s apartment.

They grab meal-plan-approved dinner from a small take-out place on the way back to Lando’s apartment and they have dinner at the enormous dining table and afterwards let themself drop on the couch in the living room.

It’s weird somehow. After the many things that had happened today, the awkwardness between them at first, having Oscar in his private space and their stroll through Monaco, it’s weird to now sit together on the couch in his living room in silence. Lando looks up to search for Oscar's eyes and realizes that Oscar is already watching him carefully.

„Lando, did you invite me here because you wanted to have a fun time and fly to Japan together, or was there another reason for it?“

Fuck. Lando feels like he just got caught in the act. He breaks their eye contact, focusing his gaze on some point on the sea behind the huge window. From the corner of his eyes he sees Oscar raising his hand and feels it touching his shoulder. “Lando,” Oscar’s voice is so soft, “look at me.” Lando briefly closes his eyes before he obeys. The look on Oscar’s face, his golden retriever eyes have a calming effect on him. It makes him almost wanting to be honest. He wants to be good for Oscar.

„Honestly, I haven’t felt very… well, the past couple of days.“ Oscar’s look on him turns concerned. That’s the one thing Lando didn’t want this to be.

„It’s not that bad, like I’m fine, really. It’s not that big of a deal.“ he tries to explain himself. “Just- a little uneasy. Last Friday I felt myself getting a little nervous somehow, and it didn’t really go away so I kind of freaked out about it a little bit, and that probably made it even worse.” The concerned look on Oscar’s face doesn’t make it better either.

„But I don’t want you to think that this is the only reason I wanted you to come. I enjoyed today, like a lot, and I think it’s great that we finally got to spend some time together again. We never really do stuff on race weekends anymore.“ he sighs a little. „But I would lie if I told you that me asking you to come had nothing to do with my dynamic…. problems.” Oscar seems to be physically hurt as Lando says that, the way he closes his eyes as if he was in agony.

Thankfully, Lando spots the problem in his wording and does his best to correct himself. He doesn’t want Oscar to be unhappy with him.

„I don’t mean problem as in- like- not like I am a problem or whatever, just-„

Oscar interrupts him by huffing out a small laugh. „It’s okay Lando. I think I know what you wanted to say.“

They sit on the sofa in silence for a moment until Oscar slides a little closer to Lando. He raises his hand and lets it rest on Lando’s neck. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

And Lando really only wants to let himself sink into Oscar’s touch, to rely on those words, to stop thinking for a second. But somehow, it doesn’t feel right. He wriggles out underneath Oscar’s hand and stands up, walking over towards the kitchen isle to get himself a glass of water, more to have something to focus on than anything else. He leaves a slightly insecure Oscar behind.

He's quiet for a moment, taking a long look through the kitchen window on the Monaco night lights before he speaks.

„Do you feel like I tricked you or something?“ Lando turns and leans against the counter with his back.

Oscar looks at him with his faithful golden retriever eyes.

„No. I don’t feel like you tricked me. I mean, of course, I would prefer if you were just honest about the dynamic stuff. It would bear me the embarrassment of constantly feeling like your mother when I want to ask you about how you’re doing probably six times a day.“

So Oscar really does think about him. Like, a lot apparently. The thought makes Lando’s chest warm.

„But I get that it’s still hard for you to be honest about that stuff, so I’m glad that you decided to do something about it, instead of just sitting it out. Even though I would prefer if you would just tell me the truth right away,“ he says that with a teasing but soft smile on his lips. “And after all, I want to help you. I want you to ask me to help you if you need it, I don’t care if you got me here under some pretence.”

Lando thinks about that for a moment.

„Well, I might not have been completely honest, but I didn’t lie either. I really did want to spend some time with you as well. The possibility of getting the brain fog out of my head is just a nice bonus.“ Lando says in a playful voice.

Oscar laughs at that. „A bonus, I see.“

Lando can’t help but smile. He likes to make Oscar laugh. He rather wants to make him laugh than look at him with the concerned lost-puppy-gaze.

Meanwhile, Oscar gets up from his place on the couch and draws closer to Lando, who’s still leaning against the kitchen isle. Slowly, almost predatory, Oscar comes very close, and puts his hand left and right of Lando on the counter, trapping him. The smile on Lando’s face vanishes with Oscar in his space like that suddenly.

„So how do you want your bonus, Lando?“ Oscar asks, his voice softening until he’s almost whispering. Lando feels the atmosphere around them changing. He swallows.

„Can we go to my room?“ he asks carefully, as if not sure if it’s really his place to demand something.

„Of course,“ Oscar says, but he doesn’t move right away. Instead, he looks at Lando with his intimidating Dom-Oscar-stare for a moment longer.

It’s almost too much for Lando to bear right now, the tension between them making him uneasy. “Why do you always look at me like that?”
When Oscar speaks, his voice is low and raspy.
“I’m still trying to grasp what the fuck it is you are doing to me, Lando Norris.”

Lando’s eyes widen. His heart starts racing as if he had just finished a marathon. His breathing becomes quick and uncontrolled. Was this some sort of confession? It feels like something just shifted, like something that was an important piece of Lando’s worldview had just been turned upside down. He’s caught so off-guard that he doesn’t think his answer through before he opens his mouth.
“I could say the same thing.”

Oscar looks at him for a moment longer, as if pondering something in his head. Slowly, he pushes his right hand on the counter more towards Lando until it lays on top of Lando’s left hand. He wraps it around Lando’s wrist. “Let’s go,” he says and pulls Lando off the counter and towards his bedroom.

When they enter the room, Oscar does what he usually does and makes it feel like he owns the room. He drags Lando until the back of his knees touch the edge of the bed. He lays his hands on Lando’s shoulders, heavy but steadying, and pushes him down until he sits on the bed. He puts one hand into Lando’s curls, grips at them like he usually does, makes Lando feel floating off, like he usually does. Lando escapes something that sounds like a mixture of a moan and a sigh. He can practically feel Oscar smiling softly at that, and it makes him feel even better. Oscar's hand wanders from his hair to the back of Lando’s neck. “Look at me,” he demands and drags Lando halfway back to the present. He obeys, raises his hea,d and finds Oscar's deep brown eyes. In the dim light of the bedroom, the lights of Monaco smiling at them through the big window, they look even darker, even more like deep sea water for Lando to drown in.

“Do you want me to tie you up again?” Oscar asks, his voice raspy and low. A shiver goes through Lando’s body. He doesn’t really want to answer, but he knows Oscar expects him to and he knows that Oscar only wants to make him feel good, he doesn’t actually want to make him uncomfortable even though it feels like it right now.

So he swallows down his pride and speaks up, tries to make his voice as firmly as he can. “Yes. Please.”

Oscar's thumb strokes softly over the back of his neck. “Good boy,” he says, and Lando knows that he means it. “I’ll be back in a second, okay? Don’t move.”

Lando only nods, and Oscar leaves the room. Lando hears him walking down the hallway, entering the guest bedroom where he left his stuff. He comes back after just a minute, carrying something in his hand. Probably the same thing he used last time. It rushes through Lando’s mind that it means Oscar must’ve also thought about this before he came to Monaco.

Oscar touches Lando’s face for a second before he gets down on the bed behind him. “Give me your hands,” he says, and Lando obeys. Oscar grabs his wrists and ties them together. “Get on your knees.”

Lando practically falls from the bed down to the floor. He’s already floating through a different universe. He barely notices how Oscar drags him up again to shove a pillow underneath his knees, and how he buries a hand in Lando’s curls again, he only feels the all-embracing peace and comfort Oscar emanates.

 

 

After Oscar talked him back up, they reiterate what they did after Lando went down in Shanghai. He lays on his back on the bed while Oscar strokes over his side absentmindedly, and Lando just lets himself feel good about it.

His mind must still be very hazy, he feels like he has no control about the words coming out of his mouth when he speaks.

“Don’t leave.”

Oscar looks at him for a long second. “I actually didn’t intend to.”

Lando closes his eyes and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Good.”

He feels Oscar lying down beside him, feels his presence like a comforting blanket he can hide under. And he smells so good. Lando wants to turn around and press his face into Oscar’s shirt, taking in as much of that smell as possible. But he doesn’t, he just stays exactly where he is, lying on his back, enjoying the calmness of having Oscar so close to him. He wonders if one could get addicted to another person’s presence.

Luckily, Oscar isn’t as much of a coward as Lando apparently is because he’s not scared of touching him. He just does. Lando feels him tucking at his shirt slightly at first, until he strokes over Lando’s arm, drawing little circles on his skin, shoving the sleeve of Lando’s t-shirt a bit upwards occasionally. He lets his arm rest over Lando’s waist after a while. Lando does his best to ignore the weird, fluttering, hot feeling in his gut about Oscar’s hand so far down his body.

He tries to just let it happen, to allow himself to give in to the feeling of Oscar’s touch.

He doesn’t know how long they lay there like that when he notices Oscar shifting slightly beside him. He opens his eyes and looks at him questioningly. Oscar is now looking down at Lando from slightly above, propped up on one arm. “What are you doing?” Does he want to leave? Because Lando knows that he doesn’t want him to leave.

Oscar just looks at him for a moment before he answers. „Can I try something?“

Lando furrows his brows at that. He would give one of his kidneys to be offered a glimpse into perfect Oscar Piastri’s head.

„Uh, I guess,“ he responds, his voice unsure. It sounds more like a question than an actual reply.

Oscar’s hand moves slowly upwards from where it had been lying on Lando's waist, not leaving Lando’s body, until it reaches his face. He strokes Lando’s cheek, softly, before he grips a little tighter, carefully. He’s still looking down at Lando, looking him directly in the eyes with this weird but already familiar intensity. Lando’s heart is beating so loud, he’s scared it could explode anytime soon.

Slowly, as if in slow motion, Oscar’s face comes closer. And then his lips touch Lando’s.

Lando’s world implodes for the second time today. Something flashes through him, makes him feel electrified. But at the same time, he feels calmer than he’s felt in forever. As if he had just found the last missing puzzle piece to a 5000-piece puzzle. He feels complete, as if this was something he had been missing all his life, and now that he found it, everything finally made sense.

Oscar's lips move only softly against his, hesitant, as if Oscar is not yet sure whether this was the right thing to do. They break apart. Slowly, Lando opens his eyes. He didn’t even realize he had closed them.

Oscar looks at him as if he were a child who had just broken something expensive and wasn't sure if his parents would yell at him or if they didn't like what he had broken anyway, and so it wasn't really a problem.

But for the first time in forever Lando is completely sure what he wants, and he just can’t stop himself from asking for it. “Please do that again,” he says, breathless. Oscar looks at him for a moment, as if to reassure himself that Lando is still there with him and not hallucinating. He moves his hand that had been resting on Lando’s chin more towards his hair, strokes softly through his curls, and brings their lips together again.

Lando wants to drown in the kiss. Oscar's tongue softly pushes against his lips and he opens them just slightly to let him in.

Even though Lando just went down pretty deeply not twenty minutes ago, he can feel himself going all soft again from Oscar’s lips on his own, from his tongue claiming his mouth, the same way Oscar usually claims a room as if it was his own.

When Oscar lets go again Lando almost whines at the loss of his lips, the calming feeling of his tongue in his mouth. Oscar strokes his cheek a little with his hand that’s still resting on his face.

“I wanted to try that for a while already,” he whispers.

“Really?” What he really wants to say is ‘why?’ Why could you possibly want to try that with me?

“Yeah.”

Oscar strokes over Lando’s cheek with his thumb again, looking deep into Lando’s eyes as if he was searching for something in them. Then he lets his hand slip towards Lando’s shoulder, his arm spreading over his chest. He leaves it just there and closes his eyes.

“Good night, Lando.”

“Good night.”

Lando allows himself to look at Oscar a second longer before he looks up at the ceiling, Oscar's arm heavy but comforting on his chest.

Now that he’s thinking it through, Lando doesn’t actually know how to feel about this. Obviously, he feels kinda good about the kiss. Great if he was completely honest. Oscar's lips on his own is definitely a feeling he didn’t know he was missing in his life. 

But… The feeling he had earlier, that he had all along since they started doing all of this, this uneasy feeling that he had tricked Oscar into this whole situation. He was a hot mess once, in Abu Dhabi, and ever since Oscar had probably felt this obligation or liability to take care of him because he constantly seemed like he couldn’t take care of himself. And instead of relieving him from this liability, Lando constantly made it worse by reinforcing this helpless image of himself over and over again. And apparently, Oscar couldn’t distinguish his urge to help, because he was just a fucking good person, from their friendship and the underlying emotions. It seemed like he was beginning to mingle the two, and Lando wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Actually, he was pretty sure that it wasn’t.

But he had let it happen, and for what? For his completely selfish reasons. Because it had felt so good to finally rely on somebody again. Or, more like, actually rely on someone for the first time. It felt good to relax into Oscar's strong arms and stop taking responsibility for his own actions. It felt good for Lando. But was it fair to Oscar?

And in addition, Lando had slowly let go of what he had spent years building, the perfect image of himself, without his stupid sub-problems. Suddenly, he feels like there is pressure on him to let all of that go, as if he's running into something without fully being aware of it and, even worse, with no turning back.

Lando closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

It takes him a long time.

Notes:

I am not sure how I feel about how this turned out honestly. For some reason in my head Oscar is kind of averse to the rich people stuff, I don’t know if that makes sense, he probably has a million-dollar apartment as well but whatever. For the sake of my fantasy that’s what he is like.
But I got way too invested, I even googled what cars Lando owns. I don’t know a thing about cars, so it felt very out of my comfort zone haha.

Chapter 6: Suzuka 2025 Part 2

Summary:

Oh god, I had to rewrite this like 5 times and I'm still unhappy, but whatever, we die like ferrari race strategy they say.

Suzuka 2025 Part 2

- Monday -

 

Oscar Piastri doesn’t get it.

He doesn’t get how he and Lando could’ve been so close one day, not a piece of paper fitting between them, and so shatteringly distant and cold to each other on the next.

They had the best possible 2 days last week in Monaco. And only a week later, he feels more distant from Lando than ever before. Not physically, because they had spent most of the couple days together, racing, doing media stuff, always being not more than 5 feet apart from each other. But mentally, he feels like there is a big concrete wall shoved between them, unbreakable, or at least not bending even the slightest bit for Oscar. And Lando had been the one who built it.

When he wakes up in Lando’s apartment on Wednesday morning, the morning after he had kissed him, he wakes up alone. He looks around, searching, but Lando isn’t anywhere to be seen. The door to the room is closed, and he doesn’t hear anything from the rest of the apartment, indicating that Lando is rumbling around somewhere.

He tries to get up but settles on allowing himself to take a second longer to lay in Lando’s bed. Breathing in his smell. Savouring the feeling of being in Lando’s most private space. He presses his nose into Lando’s pillow. Looking back, it seems like this past-Oscar already must’ve sensed that this might be the last moment he gets to enjoy the intimacy with Lando for a while.

When he finally gets up and walks carefully through the sterile apartment, feeling like an intruder, Lando is nowhere to be found.

He makes himself a cup of tea and sits down at the kitchen isle to go through some emails. He calls his manager and gets some stuff done. And all the while he’s sitting there, working, he can’t get the thought out of his head that, not 12 hours ago, he had Lando pinned against the counter right here. And a little bit later, he decided to fuck it all up by wanting just a little too much.

Suddenly, he hears the rattling noise from the elevator, and a couple of seconds later, Lando comes through the entrance. He’s wearing shorts and a shirt, and apparently, he had been out for a run because his face is flushed, and his hair is a mess.

He’s gorgeous, Oscar thinks briefly before he can stop his thoughts from running wild. He just wants to press him against the nearest wall, grip those curls and just-
“Hey, you’re awake,” Lando says, staying in the entrance area, just a tad uncomfortably, but Oscar notices right away.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I didn’t… notice you leaving this morning.” Is Lando actively avoiding eye contact?
“Yeah, I woke up pretty early and, I don’t know, just had to get up and do something I guess.” Oscar just nods. “I’m just going to take a shower real quick, and then I can make some breakfast.” Oscar is so close to just getting up and do exactly what his mind told him to do, but Lando seems so awkwardly distant, it wouldn’t feel quite right. So he only nods. “Take your time.”

The rest of the day, Lando hadn’t really warmed up again. When they get on the plane to go to Japan with Charles and Max, he doesn’t sit next to Oscar, but right away engages Max in a talk about some weird sounding PlayStation game, something Oscar has exactly nothing to contribute to, so he contents himself with looking out of the window and exchanging some words with Charles every once in a while, mostly listening to ridiculous stories about Leo. The man is so obsessed with this dog its unbelievable.

He thinks about what Lando would look like with a puppy in his lap…

They arrive in Japan when it's already dark outside. They get a cab to the hotel and finally make it to the floor with their rooms. The whole way to the hotel, Oscar had wondered about whether he should ask Lando if they want to spend some time together because he was already longing for more intimacy, for some time with just Lando again. Sharing him with Max and Charles hadn’t been something he enjoyed. But before he can bring himself to find the courage and ask, Lando already opened the door to his room and escaped with a quick “Good night” inside, the door snapping shut with some sort of finality that makes Oscar's heart sink.

It’s fine, he tells himself. Lando is probably just exhausted from the long flight. He was up pretty early this morning so he must be tired, and it’s late already so it’s probably best for Oscar to just go to sleep as well. He really tries to convince himself that nothing is wrong, but it just won’t work. He feels horrible, as if he had just gotten rolled over by a tractor.

As much as Oscar hates it, he can’t stop himself from overthinking all of it. Like a broken record his head replays every little interaction they had since… well, since Oscar had lost his goddamn mind for a second and decided to kiss Lando. Maybe that had just been a really, really stupid idea. But no matter how much Oscar tries do depict everything that had been leading up to that moment, he can’t find any possible indications that Lando might have been on a completely different page regarding their relationship with each other. Sure, he still obviously wasn’t quite comfortable with everything all the time, and it still always took him a while to get into the right headspace and all.

But first, Oscar doesn’t know anyone who scenes with someone and doesn’t have any sexual relation. Every dynamic couple he knows is also, like, a real couple or at least shares sexual activities with each other to some degree, so it wasn’t too absurd of him to think that that could be something for them as well, right?
And second, when he thinks about the past weeks and their time together, Lando had always been just a bit too obedient, a bit too hazy, too willing to do everything Oscar demanded, for him to not feel anything about it. His face had turned a little too red at Oscar’s commands, and his gasps came a little too frequent.

Oscar had been so sure that Lando wouldn’t object to them doing a little more than just scening. But well, he must’ve taken a hit to the head at some point because it was all too obvious now that Lando apparently had not been ready for that at all. And maybe he would’ve never been ready, maybe he just didn’t see Oscar like this. Which makes sense, technically they are colleagues and that in a kind of high-pressure work environment. Maybe not the right conditions to decide you want to kiss the other person.

But Oscar is not sure if he will ever be able to go back to just being friends with Lando, to scening occasionally, and to otherwise be just platonic. It hurts thinking about losing Lando in that way again.

Fuck, he can’t stop thinking about falling asleep next to him, touching him, clinging to him the whole night.

 

The race weekend hadn’t made things any better.

On the racing side, practice was a huge mess, and qualifying was fine but exhausting, and Oscar was a little mad that neither Lanod nor him managed to take P1. He wanted to take it as an opportunity to engage Lando in a conversation but quickly let the thought drop as Lando disappeared seemingly as fast as possible after he was finished with his media duties.

After finishing his own media duties and some last discussions to his engineers, Oscar walked down the paddock, wanting nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep for more than 12 hours straight (the only thing he would’ve wanted more was to lay in his bed next to Lando, but he didn’t see that in the cards for him today).

But the universe didn’t exactly plan on giving him a break.

When he walked up to the McLaren hospitality, he can't help but stop dead in his tracks. There, in front of the entrance, Lando stands with his back to Oscar. And he’s talking to Daniel. Oscar blinks twice, still frozen, not sure how to proceed.

He wasn’t even aware that Daniel was in Suzuka. He feels a little guilty for spying on them, as he stands there and is not even thinking about moving a step further.

He watches how Daniel talks to him, but he can’t hear what they are talking about, and he doesn’t know whether that is a good or a bad thing.

He watches as Daniel lays a hand on Lando’s shoulder, talking insistently to him, and suppresses the sudden urge to punch something.

Fuck, is Lando trying to get Daniel to take him down tonight? Did Oscar really manage to fuck it up so badly that Lando runs back to Daniel at the first chance?

He realizes that he doesn’t know a thing about how things were between Lando and Daniel.

Did Daniel pull his hair the way Oscar did? Did Lando look just as adorably dishevelled after going down for Daniel? Did he go down as quick for Daniel as he did for Oscar?

Maybe Daniel was more what Lando needed, could get him into a better headspace. At least he probably didn’t decide to randomly kiss him in the middle of the night. Or maybe they kissed all the time. Maybe with him Lando felt comfortable enough to let go in that kind of way.

As Oscar stood there, deep in his thoughts, he didn’t realize right away when Daniel noticed him staring at them.

He says something to Lando, Lando turns around, and their eyes lock for a moment. Lando doesn’t look exactly happy that Oscar has seen them together. Fuck, he probably just wants to have a day without Oscar invading his personal space constantly.

So, Oscar decides to not stand there like an idiot anymore and starts walking. He gives Daniel a greeting glance and a nod, he doesn’t have the nerve to give him a proper hello, and Daniel also doesn’t seem like he’s too keen on Oscar’s presence.

He tries not to look at Lando again and just walks past them as fast as he can without looking like he’s running from something, which he obviously is, through the entrance and towards his driver’s room.

 

After that, he doesn’t really see Lando except for a brief moment before the race as they wish each other good luck, Lando deliberately avoiding eye contact, until they sit together in the cool down room, Max between them, keeping them apart from each other.

Lando seems oddly calm, and even though Oscar should be happy for him that he did well on the race and he apparently has his shit together, it makes his heart sink. So Daniel did in fact take him down last night.

Oscar tries his best to put on a fake smile on the podium.

 

The problem is, he doesn’t even get a moment to breath, because they have to sit on a jet together to Bahrain this evening. Luckily (or to his detriment, Oscar is not sure), they are for once not in the same hotel on the same floor, practically living next door to each other, because Lando apparently booked an apartment for him and his trainers.

But of course, Oscar runs headfirst into him on Monday morning at the McLaren hospitality.

Apparently, he’s not the only one who got summoned after the poor performance in qualifying, Max beating them even with the mess the Red Bull currently is.

Oscar is not sure if he’s happy about seeing Lando or not. The coldness, the distance between them upsets him in a way he can’t explain. Stuff like this usually doesn’t happen to him. Oscar Piastri doesn’t get upset about stuff with other people, or at least he doesn’t get so upset that he has trouble hiding it. But with Lando, he just doesn’t seem to be able to do anything about it. He is pretty sure all his feelings are spread all out on his face as if it were an open book.

“Oh hey,” Lando says, and Oscar tries so hard not to flinch at the obvious reticence in his voice. “I didn’t know you were here today as well.”

“I didn’t know you were here at all today,” Oscar answers, surprised by how steady he sounds. He doesn’t sound like he is about to fall to his knees in front of Lando and beg him to tell him what he did wrong or how he can fix it, how they can go back to the lightness they had in Monaco.

“I actually didn’t know you were coming to McLaren. I thought you’d just be at your Apartment with your team all week.” Oh god he sounds like he’s having a crazy-dom-episode, an ‘I want to know where you are all of the time’-thing. At least he knows that this won’t be helping with his agenda of getting Lando to open up to him again.

He thinks about seeing him with Daniel on Saturday again, and his heart aches a little.

Lando stammers a bit. “Oh, yeah, uhm, you know, was kind of on short notice.” Short notice my ass, Oscar thinks, and he would love to tell Lando just how bad at lying he is. But of course, he doesn’t, he just nods and hums as if he would believe anything of the bullshit Lando tells him.

Luckily, he’s too busy all day to think a lot about his Lando-situation. His Lando-Situation, who is he even kidding? But whenever they pass each other in a hallway, or he can even see him from a distance, or even if he is only aware that Lando is currently in the room right next to him, it feels like somebody smashes a knife right through his heart. And twists it a little afterwards, just for fun.

It’s almost evening already when Oscar spots Lando going into the locker room, indicating he’ll probably leave soon. Oscar doesn’t think it through, he just rushes into the locker room after him.

“Hey,” he says the second he enters, the door not yet closed behind him, “are you done for the day?” Lando looks at him a little surprised, startled even, almost as if it was his intention to leave without having to talk to him again, as if he was hiding from him. Oscar doesn’t give himself time to be hurt about it.

“Do you want to come to my place tonight?” he says carefully, and is annoyed with himself the same second, because he knows Lando won’t say yes but he just has to try anyway. It’s almost as if he wants his heart to be broken over and over today. “We could scene or just talk if you want. I can cook something. You could go home tomorrow after breakfast or something.”

He can’t help but notice that Lando avoids meeting his eyes. Like he always did the past few days. And fuck, that hurts. Oscar wants to step into his space and grip his face and make him look him in the eyes. He wants to grip his curls, he wants to push him to his knees and make him beg, he wants to hug him and never let him go, never let him leave. He wants to kiss him again, wants to taste him again.
But he doesn’t, because he knows it would push him even further away, and that’s the last thing he wants.

“Uhm-“ Lando is apparently searching for words. “I actually need to go back to the apartment, I have stuff to do.” What kind of stuff?

“What kind of stuff?”
Lando runs a hand through his curls nervously. “Just- Just some stuff, it’s none of your business.”

Oscar flinches at the sudden sharp tone from Lando’s voice. Theres a moment of silence between them

“Lando,” Oscar says after a while, a little hesitant, his voice low. “Are you seeing someone else to scene, or-

“What? No!” Lando exclaims. Oscar feels himself relax instantly and hates himself for it. What is he even thinking? That he has some sort of claim on Lando?

Lando is a free fucking person, he’s free to scene with whoever he wants and that is fine, he reminds himself. Just because he helped Lando out once or twice over the past weeks doesn’t mean Lando can’t see somebody else, it doesn’t mean Oscar has any right to demand exclusivity from him. He’s usually not a fan of the possessiveness that other doms express towards their subs almost immediately. And Lando isn’t even his sub. But he can’t help but thinking that he could be.

“I- just- I have some stuff to do, okay? I have training and- need to talk some things through with my team.” Lando says, turning his head to look at the lockers next to them.

“Training tonight? It’s almost 8 pm already.” Oscar asks, raising one eyebrow.

“Yes, I always train late. I’m a late trainer.”

They stand there in silence for a moment, Lando fixing some random point in the room, Oscar looking down on his curls until he sighs.

“Okay.”

Oscar just stares at him a moment longer, waits for Lando to notice, to look up and meet his eyes if even just for a second. But he doesn’t, his gaze seems to be glued to the floor between them.

“I’ll see you next weekend, okay?” Lando says, his voice turning a little softer.

“Want me to drive you to your apartment? I have a car.” Oh god Oscar, just let it go!

At least Lando curls his mouth in an apologising way. “You don’t have to. I already booked an uber.” Oscar just nods in defeat and moves from where he stood in front of the door so Lando can leave the room.

For a second, Oscar thinks, prays, that Lando will hug him, that Lando will do something, anything, to restore the intimacy between them, something that will give Oscar the feeling that everything is fine and erase the feeling that it’s really not fine at all. But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He never touches Oscar. He had rarely taken any kind of initiative in that direction since they had started scening. But even knowing that, it still hurts, standing so close to him, wanting him so much and knowing he will get nothing from him, maybe not ever again.

Oscar swallows. He so desperately wants to say something, wants to do something, anything to overcome this awkward distance between them, but he just doesn’t know how to. So he lets the moment pass, just stands there as Lando walks past him, stands there until he hears the door behind him klick into place until he lets himself drop on the bench in the middle of the room and buries his face in his hands.

Notes:

Some podcast said that Daniel was in Suzuka over the weekend, I don't know if he was really there, but I decided to implement it anyway.
I promise we will get past this desperate episode quickly, and Oscar will be happy again <3

Chapter 7: Bahrain 2025

Notes:

A little late to update this week, but I finally made it to finish this chapter!!
As an excuse it's freaking 7000+ words which is a lot for me so Im proud haha.

Hope you enjoy <3

Bahrain 2025

- Saturday -

Lando feels horrible.

He’s felt horrible the whole week. One moment he’s keyed up, as if he was high, the next he feels anxiety creeping up his stomach and he wants to hide in his bed, the next he thinks about Oscar cuddling against him in his bed and wishes himself back to last week when he felt safe and peaceful for a second. He doesn’t even know why everything is the way it is now, doesn’t know exactly how it happened, but he knows it’s his fault.

And the worst thing is, he knows Oscar feels horrible too. He had seen it in his eyes, last week when he saw him at McLaren after Japan. He had seen the confusion in his eyes, the helplessness.

And fuck, he wanted so badly to set everything straight again, to fix somehow what he managed to completely mess up in just a couple of days, but he just didn’t know how. He didn’t even know what exactly his problem was with the whole thing, so how could he possibly articulate towards Oscar how they were going to fix it. And fuck, why did Oscar had to worry about how to fix it anyway? He shouldn’t have to worry about Lando so much, it wasn’t his freaking job to take care of Lando and he shouldn’t feel obliged to fix something that was completely Lando’s fault to be broken in the first place. And Lando hates himself for bringing Oscar into the situation and apparently even hurting his feelings, judging from the looks he gave him on Monday.

But instead of focussing on finding out what his problem exactly is, Lando Norris does what he always does, and focusses on driving fast laps.

And fuck, not even that works to his satisfaction. He already feels a little bit of uneasiness when he steps into the car on Friday, because it’s the first time driving in an F1 car without being put down not 48 hours before in a while. To his detriment the feeling doesn’t vanish the whole weekend.

The fact that he doesn’t exactly excel at Qualifying doesn’t make things better. At the end of the day, he can’t even explain how mad he is at himself. When he goes to bed at night, he briefly thinks about just driving to Oscar’s hotel room and begging him to take care of him. But the guilt about treating Oscar like a forgotten stuffed animal the past couple of days, like he had just realized he was already 16 years old and didn’t need it anymore, and the shame of crawling back to him now because of his stupid dynamic issues won’t let him live. Well, besides he also just misses Oscar’s presence as well. Like a lot. His warmth, his golden retriever eyes, his soft smile. It crosses his mind that that alone could be a good reason to just storm into his hotel room at 10pm, but that would be even harder to explain than his dynamic neediness, so he drops the thought and just goes to his own bed, feeling a little lonely (a lot actually), looking through the big window on the city skyline.

 

- Sunday -

To his surprise, the race goes a lot better than he expected it too. He doesn’t fuck it up, he manages to get third place, and he’s happy for Oscar for the win. Yet, the something inside him that bothered him all week is not ready to settle and leave him alone.

He doesn’t manage to congratulate Oscar for the win the way he would want to, doesn’t manage to look him in the eyes for longer than a second, doesn’t manage to celebrate with him the way he would like himself too, even though making it from P6 to P3 is not that bad of a deal.

The whole team is flying to Saudi Arabia together the same night, so he escapes to his driver’s room as fast as possible after the press conference finishes and tries his best to make himself look presentable and not as miserable as he feels inside but the dark circles under his eyes make it hard for him.

He’s so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice Oscar knocking, nor entering the room until he stands right in front of him.

“Hey,” he says softly, but Lando practically jumps at it.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.”

The lost, insecure look in Oscars eyes is hard to look at, and it makes Lando so unbelievably mad. Not mad at Oscar for intruding in his room, fuck he actually longs for Oscar’s presence since days and all he wants is to throw himself into his arms, but mad at himself for making the whole situation so complicated, for overthinking everything, for being the cause of the reason why he can’t just throw himself into Oscar’s arms right now. And damn himself, he can’t help but letting his anger that he feels against himself out on Oscar. “Then maybe don’t barge in here like a burglar without waiting for my permission to come in?”

Oscar flinches at his sharp words and Lando hates himself for it immediately.

“Sorry, I-… You’re right, I shouldn’t invade your personal space like that all the time. I’m sorry.”

But the genuinely apologetic look on Oscar’s face doesn’t make it better. It makes it worse.

“Well, you did, so what do you want?” You’re the biggest asshole Lando Norris, he thinks to himself. You don’t even deserve Oscar.

Oscar swallows, and Lando sees the carefulness in his demeanour, as if he is thinking about what he can say as not to upset Lando even more, and it drives him insane. He doesn’t want Oscar having to be careful around him, but he doesn’t know how to get out of this spiral they’re in.

“I thought you did very well today, you didn’t crumble under the pressure and just made the best out of the situation.  I was very proud of you, and I just wanted to tell you that.”

Lando doesn’t say anything in response. He just looks at the floor, his heart aching a bit at Oscar’s words. He feels dragged down by the heaviness of the situation.

He hears Oscar taking a deep breath.

“And I- I thought maybe we could-“

He stops, and its silent for a couple moments, before he raises his voice again. He sounds… defeated.

“Lando I am not entirely sure what happened with us the past week, but I want you to know that I never intended to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. If I ever did something that upset you, you can just tell me. I honestly only wanted to help and-“

Carefully, with visible hesitation, Oscar reaches his hand out and lays it on Lando’s shoulder, feather light. Lando trembles at the touch. Fuck, how much he just wants to give in and drop to his knees for Oscar right now. But he can’t shake the thought of how unfair his behaviour is towards Oscar. It makes him want to protect Oscar from himself and it makes him want to punish himself by denying him the option of letting himself fall into Oscars arms, by denying himself the option of enjoying that peace.

“I mean, If you want, I can put you down or something, you seem a little-“ he stops abruptly and seems to realize what hes saying is probably not helping the situation. He stammers a bit when he continues to talk. “I just mean, I can help you with that if you-“
“I am perfectly fine, thank you” Lando snaps back through clenched teeth and hates himself for it a second later. But he is unable to stop himself at this point. “You said it yourself, my race was good so clearly, I didn’t need your help before, and I don’t need it now. I have managed on my own before you, I am not a lost puppy that you constantly need to look out for.”

Lando sees Oscars careful demeanour shattering slightly, sees how his brows are furrowing, sees that Oscar is not as freaking calm anymore, sees how he slowly gets upset with Lando. Good, because the last thing Lando needs right now is someone who tries to understand.

“Lando, I-“

Lando’s head snaps up sharply and he forces himself to look into Oscars eyes. “I don’t need your help right now Oscar!”

Fuck, why does he have to be such a huge asshole all the time? He can’t help the guilt that builds deep in his stomach as they stand there in the silence, can’t look into Oscars eyes anymore, turns his face towards the wall.

He senses Oscar running his hand through his hair, annoyed, obviously worked up. Who can blame him, Lando is behaving like a spoilt child right now and he fucking knows it. So, he does his best to smooth the waters, tries one last time to get them out of the explosion that he can already sense tingling underneath the surface.

“Can we talk about this another time,” Lando says and closes his eyes, tries to hide his uneasiness as best as he can. “I really have to-“

“Fuck, Lando I can’t do this anymore,” Oscar almost shouts at him. Oscar never shouts.

“I have to talk about this, I have to know what the hell I did to make you pull away from me, and I have to talk about it now because I’ve been losing my mind the past week about not knowing what is going on in your head.”

Lando feels as if the walls are closing in on him. He suddenly feels all these emotions crushing down at him, going crazy inside him. He needs to breath. It’s all just too much. The race. The pressure. Oscar kissing him last week. Feeling guilty for making Oscar participate in all this in the first place. Feeling like he’s a burden for him. Fearing that opening up to Oscar might have been the wrong decision in the end. Fearing that someone is going to find out about him and end his career. Feeling powerless because he is just a fucking sub and he apparently is unable to survive without Oscar anymore. Knowing that he treated Oscar like shit the last week. Sweet, caring, only-trying-to-help-him Oscar.
He needs to find some freaking outlet. Now.

But Oscar just won’t stop talking. He wishes Oscar would just stop talking.

“Look, I really tried to just be patient, I tried my best to make the right decisions and just wait for you to open up and I would really love to give you all the time in the world.” Oscar’s voice gets more and more sharp with every single word, and it makes Lando flinch. “But you have to talk to me finally, I can’t guess my way through this whole thing forever. You need to give me something, you need to-“

 "Don’t you see how hard this is for me?!" Lando shouts back. He can’t hold it in anymore, it’s all just too much.
"It’s not easy to be in need for your help every other week, while you can be completely unaffected by all of it. Like, you don’t really need all of this, but I do. I already knew that I would be in need for help from other people all my life. But now you got me all fucking dependent on you and I go almost crazy without your hand in my hair for a week and whenever I don’t see you for more than 24 hours I feel just so fucking lost. But of course, I am the problem, even though I literally have no other choice but to rely on you and to just trust you because I need this while you can be able to just not care.”

"How dare you say that I don’t care." The look on Oscar’s face is scaringly serious and his voice sounds… like he’s honestly hurt. Lando is taken aback by the sudden change in his posture. Fuck. He knows what he said is not fair to Oscar. He had shown him so many times how much he cared about him. How much he wanted Lando to feel good. But somehow Lando is still so angry. He takes a second to gather himself, forces himself to find the right words for once instead of just throwing whatever comes to his head at Oscar.

"I know that you- care about me. I mean you spent all this time with me that you probably could’ve invested a lot better somewhere else just to keep me from being a hopeless mess and I am so grateful for that, really, I am. But it’s not that easy for me- I am actually in need of your help, not like you, you’re not even really getting anything out of this and it’s hard enough to admit that but I don’t want to exploit you like that and-" he realizes he’s rambling, so he makes himself take a deep breath, tries to ignore the inscrutable look on Oscar’s face. “It feels like you’re just doing charity work and I’m just this useless sub, dependent on your generosity."

He says that with a sharpness in his voice. All the hurt, the self-hate, everything he carried with him all his life put into it.

Oscar’s stare on him doesn’t change.

"You really still think that I don’t want all of this? You think the only reason I’m here is because I’m just a good person with a saviour-complex?"

Lando doesn’t know what to respond to that. Somehow Oscar has just managed to quell all of Lando’s rising anger, extinguished the fire that was raging inside of him until there’s only a small match flame remaining.

"Well, I-" he never gets to finish his sentence. Oscar grips his head in a way that makes him forget everything he ever wanted to say.

"You’re so fucking stupid, Lando Norris, you’re driving me insane," he says. And then he kisses him. Not soft, like he did in Monaco. He kisses with an urgency, as if the world would end on the spot if he didn’t kiss Lando with everything he had right now. He keeps Lando’s head firmly in his hands, as if to emphasize that he is not planning on letting him go anytime soon.

He pushes his tongue into Lando’s mouth, claiming it like it’s his, the same way he always enters a room like it was his own. He bites on Lando’s bottom lip, making him whine helplessly into the kiss.

When they finally break apart, Lando feels out of his mind, hazy, not entirely sure what had just happened to him.

When Oscar speaks, he fixes Lando’s eyes intently as if he wants to push the words forcefully into his brain.

"Trust me, I am not just doing all of this just because I want to take care of your dynamic issues," Oscar says low and raspy. "I mean I’m honoured that you think so highly of me, but I’m afraid it’s not a very accurate observation."
Lando still looks at him with what he thinks must look like he had just gotten drowned in a sudden rain shower the weather forecast hadn’t warned him about.

Oscar, still gripping his head firmly, lets his thumb stroke softly over Lando’s cheek, like he does when he wants to calm him down, when he wants to assure him that everything is going to be fine.
"I-“ his voice cracks a little. "I don’t do this just so you can go down to calm your own mind. I enjoy the stuff we’re doing.” He seems to take a moment to collect himself. Then he takes a deep breath.

“Lando, I like how you look on your knees, I like how you look at me when I give you orders. I like to see that you trust me so much that you let me take you down, week after week." he pauses for a second. "But it’s not only the dynamic stuff. I like how we are with each other, the way you seem to be fully yourself, like your true self, without playacting anything when it’s just the two of us. I just like you, Lando and I want to spend time with you."

Something inside Lando tumbles. Did Oscar really just say that? He must’ve gotten a concussion at some point during the race because there is no way that he could really mean it. There’s no way he could like him like that. Him. Idiotic, silly, annoying Lando Norris. Before he can even think about what to answer, Oscar draws his head closer again.

Oscar’s lips make Lando melt like ice cream. His stomach feels like the night sky on New Year’s Eve.

“If you’re not comfortable with us like this, if you would like to do this differently, I guess I can deal with that and we will find away, I’m not going to leave you to deal with all of it on your own, but-“

“I don’t,” Lando interrupts him, whispering. “I don’t need- I don’t want just the dynamic stuff. I just-” he closes his eyes as if in pain. “After Monaco, I felt so much like I tricked you into the whole thing, like, I had no right to-“ his voice breaks.

Oscar looks into his eyes focused, searching, holding his head in both his hands.

“Lando, I beg you. You finally have to just trust me. You have to let these stupid thoughts in your silly little Lando-brain of being a burden go. I like you, and I want all of this, probably a lot more than you do…” His voice gets quieter as he says those last words.

 “But I can’t wait forever for you to want it too.”

Lando swallows. He wishes he was as good with words as Oscar is. He genuinely doesn’t know what to say.

Luckily Oscar is not only good with words but also the most empathetic person in the world, because he doesn’t really wait for him to respond, he just pulls him close by gripping his sweatshirt and kisses him again.

As Oscar kisses him now it’s not as urgent as it was. Its slowly, carefully, almost hesitant. And Lando gets that, he understands that he has made it too hard for Oscar the past week to be sure about whether this is what Lando wants. But Lando realises that careful is not what he needs right now. So he decides to do the most uncomfortable thing for him when it comes to dynamics and bedroom activities and… ask.

"Can I open your jeans?" he whispers, his voice cracking. He can see the surprise flickering over Oscar’s face at his demand. He nods slowly. „Yeah, go on,“ he whispers.

Slowly, without breaking eye contact with him, Lando unbuttons Oscar’s jeans and pulls the zipper down.

"Can I touch you?" he asks, and he can’t hide the uneasiness in his voice, the subtle fear of overstepping a line by demanding too much or even demanding something at all. Oscar’s eyes are glistening in the dim light of the room. "Yes. Of course. Please. Please touch me." It feels wrong for a dom to be the one to beg him for something, but Lando relaxes a bit now that he can be sure that Oscar is okay with this.

Lando pushes Oscar’s jeans down, until they sit just slightly below his hips, revealing access to his obviously hard dick.

Lando presses his hand against it, grips it through Oscar’s boxer shorts, and Oscar whines through his clenched teeth. Fuck, Lando wants to drag more noises like that out of his mouth.

Carefully, always prepared for Oscar to yank his hand back in an instant, he grips the waistband of Oscar’s boxers and pushes them down, until they sit on his thighs just below his cock. Oscar draws in a sharp breath.

Slowly, as if in slow motion, Lando gets down on his knees in front of Oscar, one hand on his hips. He looks up at Oscar through his lashes, searching for eye contact. Fuck, why is it so hard for him to just take what he wants?

Oscar seams to notice his internal contradiction, because he lets his hand stroke over Lando’s cheeks softly. “Tell me what you need baby,” he says, soft and tender but also commanding, leaving no room for objection and Lando needs to focus on not coming in his pants at Oscar calling him baby. No one had ever called him baby before.

Lando takes a deep breath before he speaks.

"Can you just… fuck my mouth? Or just do whatever you want, I don’t care. Just, please- do something." He lets out a shaky breath. "I just need to stop thinking for a second."

Oscar makes a strangled noise.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, fuck, Oscar please."

As if he was a dog that was just let off the leash Oscar’s hand rushes towards his hair and grips his curls, tightly. Lando moans at the pressure and relaxes into the tension of Oscar pulling his head slightly back. It feels so good.

"Open your mouth." Oscar says, his voice low and predatory. "And put your hands on your thighs. And don’t even think about moving them."

A small whimper escapes Lando as he lets his mouth fall open and he grips onto his thighs.

He realizes how much he was longing for Oscar to take control over him for the past few days, how much he missed it, how much he needs it.

How could he even think it would be possible for him to just go back to living without having Oscar in his life like this, without Oscar staring at him like he’s the most important thing in the world, without Oscar’s hand on his neck or in his hair, calming him, claiming him.

With a steady hand in his curls, Oscar guides his head towards his cock, pulling him to a halt when it’s just the tip of him in Lando’s mouth. Lando tries to push down on him, tries to take him whole immediately, but Oscar’s hand in his hair is steady, unrelenting, keeping him right where he wants him.

"Be patient." he commands and Lando shivers, tries his best to be happy with what Oscar is giving to him.

So he swirls his tongue around his tip, licking through the slit carefully and preens at the delicate moans that escape from Oscar’s lips.

He feels his sub instincts awakening, notices how he’s proud that he is the reason that Oscar makes these noises, registers how much he wants to make Oscar feel good. Slowly, Oscar’s grip in his hair is loosened a little bit and he lets Lando slowly move further down on his cock.

Finally, Oscar loosens his grip and lets him take him, and Lando doesn’t waste a second and takes him whole, even though he immediately chokes when he reaches the base of Oscars cock with his lips and the tip hits his throat.

Oscar lets him have his way for a while, but then he stops him and pulls his head off his cock by his curls. Lando makes a desperate whine at the loss. “Come up here,” Oscar says, breathless. Lando whines again and makes an attempt to just take Oscar’s leaking cock back in his mouth. The grip in his curls becomes tighter. Oscar’s voice is rough and raspy when he speaks. “Lando, be a good boy and do what I say.” Lando shivers at the command, his sub instincts betraying him and making his legs push him back up.

He briefly thinks that he must look like a hot mess, he feels his eyes tiering up just slightly from choking on Oscar’s cock, his mouth probably red and swollen, but Oscar looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He pulls him into another messy kiss, his hand dropping from his hair a bit lower towards the back of his neck, applying just enough pressure to let him know he’s not allowed to back away.

"Fuck, Lando, you look so beautiful like this," Oscar murmurs in between kisses. He pushes Lando away from him just enough so he can look at him. His eyes are dark and shiny. “You don’t even know all of the things I want to do with you, you don’t know hard it is for me to hold back right now.“

Lando gasps.

"Then don’t. Don’t hold back.“ He looks up to meet Oscar’s eyes, takes in the glossy shimmer in them, sees how much Oscar wants. But Oscar just shakes his head slightly.

"No, no Lando, you don’t understand. You’re not my sub, we never even talked about this stuff. It’s not my place to demand anything from you like that.“

Lando just makes an irritated noise. He wants to tell Oscar just how much he wants him to claim him, that he doesn’t care about talking about anything.

"Fuck, Oscar just-“ but he’s cut off by Oscar’s lips on his own, hungry, filled with want and urgency. “As much as I like it when you’re bratty like this, please just shut the hell up and let me take care of you.”

With that, Oscar pushes him back against the wall, gripping both his wrists with one hand and pinning them above his head. Lando moans, shifting from one leg to the other, pushing his hips forward, searching for any kind of friction. “Stop squirming, or you’re not getting anything.” Oscar whispers into his ear with a deep voice, his breath brushing warm against Lando’s face. Lando whines quietly, but obeys and does his best to stand still, to be patient and good for Oscar. He feels the familiar haze rising in his head.

Slowly, Oscar unzips his pants with his free hand and pushes them down just enough to reveal Lando’s cock. He strokes over the bulge in his boxers, featherlight, teasing, and Lando whines. He can’t help but push against Oscar’s hand with his hips again. Which he instantly regrets because Oscar takes his hand away again.

“What did I say just a second ago?”

Lando whimpers helplessly. Oscars hand slowly moves up underneath his shirt, brushing over his abs but not stopping there. He finds Lando’s nipples, brushing over both of them softly, until he settles on the right one and increases the pressure just slightly.

“Answer me Lando, what did I tell you just a second ago?” Deliberately, while saying that, he twists Lando’s nipple a little. Lando is pretty sure he is about to lose his mind.

“Lando, baby, stay with me. Open your eyes, look at me.” He didn’t even notice that he had closed his eyes. He opens them and forces himself to find Oscar’s eyes and fuck, he can see the hunger in them. But Oscar’s hand underneath his shirt won’t give him a break, as it brushes over to the other side of his chest, repeating the torture on his left nipple.

“Lando, words,” Oscar says and Lando can hear him growing impatient.

“Fuck,” he breaths out. “You told me to stop squirming.”

Oscar hums a little as he nods at that. “And did you obey me? Have you been a good boy for me?”

Lando draws in a sharp breath. The fuck did he get himself into? This couldn’t be the same sweet, caring, golden-retriever-Oscar-Piastri he knew, right?

“No, I wasn’t.”

“No, you weren’t,” Oscar says, his voice hard as steel.

Lando is filled up with want completely, he just wants to run his hands through Oscar’s messed up hair, or touch Oscar, or be touched by Oscar, but Oscar’s hand pinning his wrists isn’t shifting even a little bit, and his other hand keeps on twisting and pulling on his nipples, driving Lando insane.

“Oscar, please. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, just- Please.”

Oscar gives him a crooked smile.

“You mean if I give you another chance you will be a good boy and be patient and take just what I decide to give you?”

Lando shivers.

“Yes, fuck, yes I will be a good boy for you, please Oscar.”

Oscar’s hand is currently resting on the right side of his chest, his thumb brushing steadily over his nipple. “We really have to do something about all of your swearing at some point,” he says, absentmindedly.

“As much as I would like to punish you by not letting you come for being such a brat and not listening to me, you’re lucky that I really, really want to see your face when you come.” Lando is pretty sure he is turning bright red at those words.

Oscar gives both his nipples one last, sharp tug before he removes his hand from underneath his shirt. “But I really need you to be good for me now, no more impatient squirming, is that clear?” Lando nods eagerly. “Yes, promise I’ll be good.” He murmurs, the haze in his head preventing him from saying something insurgent and stupid.

Oscar lets his hand stroke softly over Lando’s cock, still covered by his boxershorts. Lando feels his breath becoming quick, he has to gather all his strength to not buck his hips into Oscar’s palm to get just a little more friction.

Apparently, Oscar notices how much he has to hold himself back, and apparently, he meant what he said and really wants Lando to come, because he stops torturing him and pushes his boxers down with his free hand. And apparently, he’s done playing around, because he grips the base of Lando’s cock tightly, intently, and begins to stroke him.

Fuck, Lando is not going to last long, not with the way Oscar still holds his wrists and looks at him with this intimidating stare, as if he can look right through him.

“Oscar, I’m going to-“

“It’s okay baby.” Oscar says, his voice soft. “I’ll clean up, it’s okay.”

Lando nearly comes immediately at Oscar’s soft, caring voice mixed with the forceful grip around his wrists and his lips that somehow appeared on Lando’s neck. But there is something he still needs to hear.

“Am I- Can I- Fuck, Oscar, I need you to-”

He can feel Oscar smiling against his neck. “Yes, Lando, you are allowed to come.”

And Lando does. He gasps and comes all over Oscar’s hand.

He almost collapses against the wall behind his back. He barely notices how Oscar slowly let’s go of his wrists, disappears to the bathroom for a second and comes back to clean up the cum that is left on Lando’s skin and clothes.

It takes him a while to come back to the present

“Fuck,” he murmurs and hears Oscar chuckle softly somewhere close to him.

He opens his eyes and looks at Oscar, who stands leaning against the wall opposite of him. He’s too out of it still to stop himself before he speaks.

“Why are you so far away?”

Oscar’s face softens even more at that. He pushes himself off the wall and takes the couple of steps towards him, reaching out his hand to brush over Lando’s cheek. Lando lets himself lean into the touch.

“I should make you come,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, the exhaustion from everything that just happened still lingering.

“Not now,” Oscar murmurs back.

“But I-“

“I said no, Lando.” Oscar’s voice is not angry, but it doesn’t allow for any objection. So Lando swallows his response down.

“We have to leave soon. We have a flight to catch.” Oscar says and Lando mourns. He almost forgot that they still have to fly to Saudi tonight.

“But if you are a good boy until we arrive, you can make me come in the hotel later.”

Lando looks up into Oscars eyes. They are still dark, still filled with lust and hunger, and Lando once again realizes that he is the reason Oscar looks like this.

Oscar’s hand moves from Lando’s cheek to the back of his neck and presses just slightly. “Get ready and wait for me, okay? We will leave together.”

Lando only nods. But as Oscar intends to draw his hand back and leave, he quickly grabs his hips and draws him a little closer. Before he can worry about whether he is allowed to just touch Oscar like this, the younger man seems to understand what he wants, because he smiles briefly, and pushes at his neck to bring their lips together.

The kiss still lingers on Lando’s lips after Oscar has already left the room. He closes his eyes again for a moment and lets his head fall back against the wall.

 

When they finally arrive in Saudi Arabia and make it to their hotel, it’s already 10 pm.

They didn’t talk much on the plane, but Oscar had made sure that Lando not only sat right next to him but also that they were always touching in some capacity. In moments when nobody was watching them, he had brushed a hand against Lando’s knee, at other times he had pressed his hand against the side of his thigh, under the armrest, so that nobody could see it, and he always just sat a centimetre closer to him than necessary. Lando didn’t complain about it, Oscar’s presence so close was radiating a calming effect on him.

They wait for the elevator together with the other McLaren people who are sleeping in the same hotel. Oscar tugs at Lando’s sweater slightly from behind, indicating for him to wait and let the others get into the elevator first. That way, they are the last people still waiting there and get the elevator to themselves. Oscar steps in first when it arrives, naturally presses the button for their floor, and the button to close the door. The second the door closes and the elevator starts moving, Lando is pressed against the wall and kissed aggressively. He gasps into the kiss, surprised by Oscar’s need.

Oscar lets go of him relatively quickly, takes only a step back, and stares intently into his eyes. “You can bring your stuff to your room if you want, but you’re sleeping in mine. There's no way I am going to let go of you for more than 5 consecutive minutes tonight.” He lays a steady hand on his waist while he says that, gripping just slightly, but still possessively. Lando can only nod at that, his eyes captured by Oscar’s intimidating stare.

They reach their floor, the elevator doors open, but Oscar’s hand doesn’t leave Lando’s body, it just slides from his waist to his lower back and pushes him forward gently. There's no one to be seen on the whole floor when they step out, but Oscar carefully walks behind him, hiding his hand on Lando’s back as best as he can.

Lando can’t help but preen at the gesture, can’t help but lean into it, feeling so cared for, feeling safe.

Oscar doesn’t leave his side until they arrive at the door to Lando’s room. It takes him a second to snatch the keycard from Lando’s hand and open the door for him. Lando briefly thinks he should protest, should tell him that he can open the door himself, but he doesn’t want to fight against himself and his sub instincts anymore tonight. All he wants is to give in, wants so badly for Oscar to take care of him. Lando steps into the room and internally mourns the loss of Oscar’s steadying hand on his back.

He turns to look into Oscar's eyes again, immediately captured by the familiar stare.

“5 minutes,” Oscar says, his voice firm and decisive. He slides the spare keycard to his own room into Lando’s hand, then he grabs his suitcase and crosses the floor towards his room.

Lando throws his suitcase on top of the bed and quickly pulls on a fresh t-shirt and sweats, takes a second in the bathroom to splash his face with some cold water.

His cheeks turn a little red when he looks at himself in the mirror, embarrassment rising inside of him slowly when he thinks about how he behaved around Oscar the past hours, how much he enjoyed being pressed against the wall by him, Oscar’s firm, unrelenting grip around his wrists, the things he did to him.

Suddenly, he feels all the thoughts from Monaco coming back up in his head, but he thinks about letting them in only for a second, before he forces himself to suppress it all, shove it in some locked box deep down in his mind. Instead, he thinks about the things Oscar said to him earlier, how much he wanted him, and looks at how his cheeks turn ever darker in the mirror.

Suddenly remembering how Oscar said he only had five minutes and how he doesn’t want to make him mad, he forces himself to break away from the mirror and leave the room.

He crosses the floor towards Oscar’s room, trying to make as little noise as possible.

He ruffles through his hair one last time, then he uses the keycard and opens the door. The second he enters Oscar is almost immediately all over him again. Lando finds himself pushed against the door, caged by Oscar who places his hands on each side of him against it and starts kissing him urgently, as if the 5 minutes he gave him to take his stuff to his room and change, where already way longer than Lando deserved.

Oscar apparently doesn’t want to let Lando go to let him breath, making him gasp for air when he finally breaks away for a second.

Oscar just looks at him for a second, his eyes dark.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Yeah,” Lando asks, his voice hoarse, “Why?”

Oscar seems to relax again. “Just- I know I have acted all possessive the past couple of hours-“ “No Idea what you mean,” Lando interrupts him, small smirk on his lips. Oscar shoves him back against the wall playfully and grabs his chin. “I just wanted to make sure it’s actually fine for you. I was really freaked out the past week, wondering if I did something wrong, if something made you feel uncomfortable and-“

“You did nothing wrong,” Lando interrupts him again. He’s full of Oscar feeling bad for something he had messed up. “It was just me, me and my… silly little Lando brain.” Oscar smiles shyly at hearing the words he himself had used a couple hours ago.

“Just promise me you’ll say something if you’re ever uncomfortable with something I do, okay?” Lando only nods, but he tries to look into Oscar's eyes intently, trying to let him know that he means it.

“Want me to make you come?”

Oscar audibly sucks in breath. “Yeah, okay, yeah.”

Lando feels high on the elation of them finally talking again and it makes him a little cocky. “That doesn’t sound too excited,” he lets himself fall back against the door. “If you don’t want it, we can also just go to sleep-“ Oscar stops him by gripping his waist and pulling him towards him, pressing their lips together again and pushing Lando gently but firmly towards the bed.

They both just drop onto the bed, completely tangled up with each other, Oscar not leaving Lando’s mouth for a second.

They both lay on the side, hungrily pressing their lips together, until Lando pushes him on his back against the mattress and comes to sit on Oscar’s thighs, looking down on the slightly taller man beneath him. “Can I take your shirt off?”

Oscar’s voice is hoarse when he speaks. “Yes, please, go ahead.”

Lando grips at the hem of Oscar's t-shirt which feels soft in his hand, and tugs at it slightly, indicating for Oscar to raise his torso off the bed, so he can pull the shirt above his head.

As Oscar has dropped back on the bed, Lando takes a second to take in the view.

He’s obviously seen Oscar’s chest multiple times, but he never had the time to appreciate it.

"Stop looking at me like that," Oscar says, cheeks turning slightly red.

A small smirk plays around the corner of Lando’s lips. “I need to assess what I’m working with,” he teases, not moving his eyes.

Suddenly, Oscar’s hand shoots up and tightens around Lando’s hips. "You’re enjoying this a little too much for my liking," he murmurs. Then he pulls on his waist, making Lando fall on top of him, only separated from Oscar by being propped up on his elbows.

"Sorry," Lando mumbles, only half serious, "I just thought you were really pretty." Oscar playfully slaps his hands against Lando’s hips. "Shut up, I’m not pretty," he says and reaches up to kiss him.

As he lets Oscars tongue explore his mouth Lando feels Oscars hardening cock press against him. He decides to do something against it within his limits, and pushes his hips down, exerting soft pressure on Oscar’s dick.

He preens as Oscar escapes a small moan into the kiss. He can’t help but smile a little.

He feels Oscar’s leg entwining with his own, and suddenly he is the one with his back against the mattress, Oscar hovering over him. "Think that’s funny?" Oscar says, voice a little breathless.

Lando bites down on his lip and shakes his head slightly.

"No? Well, it seemed like you were pretty satisfied with yourself just a second ago."

Lando didn’t manage to get out another word.

The stern look on Oscar’s face softens a bit.

"Is it okay if I fuck your mouth again like this?"

Lando gasps a little, arousal shooting through him at the thought of Oscar using him like this. "Yes, very okay."

And Oscar does.

He gets out of his sweats and back on top of Lando, just a lot closer to his head this time.

"Hands above your head." A shiver runs down Lando’s spine at Oscar’s commanding voice. He obeys and raises his arms. Oscar fixes them against the bed with one hand. “Open your mouth.” Lando swallows and opens his mouth. Oscar slowly pushes his cock into it. Lando moans against it, feels how his moan is vibrating against Oscar’s cock, and Oscar sucks in a sharp breath at the sensation.

Even as Oscar starts thrusting into his mouth, Lando can’t help but notice how much he is still holding back, how careful he is to not take advantage of Lando but to stay within his limits. He wishes Oscar would be less careful and would just take what he wants, but he’s not going to complain about that tonight. Instead, he focuses on the delicate moans that escape Oscar’s mouth as he slides in and out of his mouth.

Suddenly he pulls out though. Lando moans in protest at the loss of Oscars cock. The pressure on his wrists from Oscar’s hand intensifies, as Oscar supports himself with that hand and reaches for his cock with the other. Lando watches as he strokes himself, until he comes. Before he can spill over Lando’s chest though, he catches his cum with his other hand, releasing Lando’s hands at the same time.

Lando watches as Oscar takes a second to gather himself and then disappears to the bathroom for a minute before he steps back into the room. He watches Oscar’s naked body, takes it all in, tries to imprint the image on his brain. As Oscar recognizes his observing eyes on him he is visibly embarrassed. Quickly he bends down to pick up his sweats he dropped on the floor earlier and puts them back on.

“Why did you not come in my mouth?” Lando breaks the silence. He slides more to the right side of the bed to make room for Oscar to lay down next to him.

“It just didn’t feel right I guess,” Oscar answers. He must spot the slightly hurt look on Lando’s face because he’s quick to add “not that I wouldn’t want to, but I- It would’ve felt like I was taking advantage of you, and we haven’t really talked about all of this and you’re still not like my sub, so…” Lando slowly nods, absentmindedly. My sub.

“Come here,” Oscar says, lays his arm around Lando, and pulls him closer.

They just lay there in silence for a moment, Lando’s head resting on Oscar’s chest, focusing only on Oscar’s heartbeat and his own breathing, until Oscar speaks up and Lando feels his voice vibrating in his chest.

"Lando, I don’t want you to just run off again and go to somebody else as soon as something is not going perfectly!"

Lando rapidly raises his head from Oscar’s chest and turns to look at him, not able to conceal the irritation on his face.

"What?!"

Oscar looks at him with his usual calm expression.

"Look it’s fine, I get it, Daniel and you already have like a… routine, you know each other longer and stuff, but Lando, I-" he pauses for a second, apparently not at all startled by the disbelieving look on Lando’s face, “I can’t stand knowing you are also scening with someone else. My dom-instincts just don’t resonate well with something like that.“

Lando struggles to find the right words for a minute. He can only stare at Oscar, his mouth slightly opened, not knowing how to handle the situation.

 "What the fuck are you even talking about?“ Only now his seriously confused expression seems to startle Oscar a bit.

"Lando, I saw the two of you last week, and then in the cooldown room you were super calm and all- it’s fine, I get that you needed to scene with someone. I promise I’m not mad, just tell me that you won’t-"

"I didn’t do anything with Daniel last night!“ Lando interrupts him before he can finish his sentence. He looks wrecked, eyes wide as if in shock.

Oscar is too stunned to speak for a second.

"You didn’t?“ he asks, hesitant, searching for indications of dishonesty in Lando’s eyes.

"Fuck no, why the hell would I go to Daniel if I could also just ask you?“

"You would rather come to me than go back to Daniel?“

"Oscar, are you mad? Trust me, I wouldn’t go back to Daniel for the life of me.“

That seems a little harsh now.

"Why not?“

The curious expression on Oscar’s face gets Lando out of his rising anger and back into the presence. He looks at Oscars chest, sternly, brows furrowed.

"Just- I wouldn’t."

It sounds final coming out of Lando’s mouth like that, his face all serious and determined, but Oscar still hopes that he will explain himself at least a little more.  

"And I don’t have to, right? Because I have you."

Oscar just sighs, relishing the warmth that settles in his chest at those words.

He decides to follow his first instinct and pulls Lando back into his arms, pressing him closely to his chest, burying one hand in his hair.

"Yeah. Yeah you have me.“

Notes:

Uff, I have not written smut in ages, so I am not sure how to feel about it.
But I hope somebody out there enjoyed it a little :)

Chapter 8: Saudi Arabia 2025

Notes:

Not me uploading this from work, because I feel bad that I haven't posted this chapter yet.
Thank god there's no race this weekend, I need some time to write more. Or actually, I don't mean that, what am I going to do this weekend without a race???
Anyways, hope you enjoy <3

Saudi Arabia 2025

- Thursday -

The week between Bahrain and Saudi Arabia goes by in a flash.

On Monday, Lando wakes up with Oscar’s arm wrapped around him and his face buried in his neck. He tries to push him away and get up, but Oscar makes a discontented noise and pulls him even closer, so Lando gives up quickly and patiently waits until Oscar finally opens his eyes.

Before Lando leaves the room to go to his own to shower and change, Oscar slides the spare keycard into Lando’s hand with a telling look on his face. And that night, after he finishes training in the hotel gym, Lando comes back to Oscar’s room.

On Tuesday morning, it’s hard for them to leave the room. They keep going back and forth between the bed and the door, never making it quite to push down the handle and open it, discussing skipping breakfast more than once before they finally head down to the ground floor of the hotel to get something to eat.

On Wednesday, Lando decided that sneaking off to his own room every morning to get ready and change into fresh clothes is nothing but a silly and unnecessary complication, so he unceremoniously moves his anyways still unpacked suitcase into Oscar’s room with no comment. Oscar looks a little surprised at first, but doesn’t quite manage to hide the satisfied smile that’s creeping onto his face.

Between Training, strategy meetings and filming silly clips for McLaren social media, Lando and Oscar always come back to Oscar’s hotel room.

It always takes them a while to warm up to each other in that particular way again, after spending most of their time with their trainers, team principals, engineers, acting like they are not going to see each other (half-) naked later that night.

When they are finally back in Oscar’s hotel room at the end of the day, they always tiptoe around each other awkwardly for at least 15 minutes, before Lando says something stupid, something provoking, and Oscar shuts him up by pushing him against the nearest wall, or sucking his tongue into his mouth, or pushing him down to his knees.

Before they go to sleep, they always entangle themselves in each other for a while, mostly just Lando laying his head on Oscar’s chest, Oscar stroking through his hair absentmindedly, tugging softly at his curls every once in a while, eliciting the most delicate moans from Lando.

With time going by, just day by day, Lando notices how good Oscars s presence actually is for him. He notices how he’s just generally calmer. He doesn’t wake up with anxiety already brimming in his chest. Talking through strategy doesn’t make him scared to fuck it up anymore (that only comes to him at night when he can’t sleep), and no matter how stressed out about his day he gets, thinking about returning to Oscar’s hotel room at the end of the day, thinking about how Oscar will pull him into his solid arms always eases him.

On Thursday, before they have to head to the grid for media day, Lando comes back from breakfast in one of Oscar’s hoodies. Oscar, who still can’t comprehend how Lando is always awake before hi,m looks at Lando in his clothes for a moment, speechless, mouth slightly open, before he practically leaps at him. He kisses him aggressively, pulling him closer by gripping the collar of the hoodie. When he speaks, his voice is a little rough, and it has that dark edge Lando has come to love throughout the past days, the dark edge indicating that something triggered Oscar’s dom-instincts.

“Lan, as much as I… enjoy seeing you in my clothes, you can’t wear that to the grid. Everybody will notice it’s not yours.” His right hand slides from the fabric of the hoodie to Lando’s neck, caressing the skin.

“Oh, come on, it’s just a hoodie,” Lando complains. He’s so not ready to leave the hoodie behind and abandon the calming effect of Oscar’s scent. Oscar looks at him in a scolding but affectionate way. “There’s a kangaroo and an Australian flag on it.”

Lando playfully pouts at him. “Guess that means you have to take it off for me.”

The tremble that goes through Oscar's body at those words is barely visible, but Lando notices anyway and smirks. “That I don’t have to be told twice.” He pulls the Hoodie off in one swift motion and throws it on the chair in the corner of the room. Then he grips Lando’s waist under the shirt he’s wearing and pulls him closer to bring their mouths back together.

“Maybe if you’re a good boy, you can earn the privilege of wearing it again tonight,” he says, threading his hand through Lando’s curls.

Lando scoffs. “As if you’re not completely over the moon about me wearing your clothes. Honestly, I think it's more of a privilege for you than it is for me.

“And I think you’re not necessarily on the best path to being a good boy for me today.”

Lando shudders and turns his face away in order to escape Oscar's penetrating gaze, trying to suppress his rising arousal as best as he can. “I think we have to get going,” Oscar murmurs against Lando’s cheek, before he kisses him again, tucks at his curls just a little,e and then steps toward the closet to throw Lando a McLaren Hoodie.

 

- Saturday -

Saturday is an exhausting day, and after Qualifying, Lando only wants to hide in his bed. Even an hour later, his crash in Q3 still haunts him and makes him feel like a piece of shit.

Unfortunately, he’s summoned for another McLaren meeting due to the crash after the press conference, while Oscar is free to return to the hotel. When he briefly refreshes himself in his driver’s room, Oscar suddenly steps into the room and hugs him wordlessly. Lando is tense at first, but when he breathes in Oscar’s smell and lets himself lean into his steady arms, he’s able to relax a little. He’s very grateful that Oscar doesn’t make him talk about the crash. The only thing he says after they break apart a minute later is “do you want me to wait for you so we can drive back to the hotel together?” Lando ponders it in his head for a second, but he is too scared that it will seem weird to the outside if he waits only for them to return to the hotel together, so he declines, even though he wants nothing more than for Oscar to wait for him. He would like him to walk him back to the hotel with his hand on his neck for the whole way.

When he’s finally released by McLaren a couple of hours later, he rushes back to the hotel, feeling stressed out and tired. He steps out of the elevator on their floor and walks towards Oscar’s room at the other end of the floor.

He’s currently fumbling with the keycard as he’s suddenly approached from behind. “Hey Lando, you alright?” Lando’s breath catches in his throat. He tries to put on an inconspicuous face when he turns around. “Hey Charles, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, my room is on this floor. Are you alright after your crash?”

Lando tries his best to calm down, forces himself to breathe in and out, and tries to convince himself there is nothing wrong with Charles running into him here, as he was just about to head into Oscar’s room.

“Yeah, a bit unlucky, but I’m okay, just unnecessary.” Charles nods and looks at him for a second before he speaks. “Isn’t that Oscar's room? Thought I saw him the other day.”

Lando’s heart sinks.

“Uhm- yeah-“ he stammers, “we accidentally switched keycards this morning so I’m just going to get mine back.” He just prays that Charles buys his explanation and doesn’t follow up on the issue, but Charles only nods absentmindedly. “Well, anyways good luck tomorrow, don’t let the crash get to you too much.” Lando nods, “thanks, good luck to you too.”

Charles disappears towards the other end of the corridor, and Lando breaths out in relieve. He quickly turns around and opens the door, hurries inside, and lets himself fall against the door as soon as it closed.

Oscar sits on the bed, looking up from his phone in irritation as Lando stumbles inside.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, concerned, while he gets up from the bed and crosses the room towards him.

Lando tries to force himself to take a deep breath, but the words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can calm himself down.

“Fuck, I just ran into Charles on the floor, and I was already in front of your door, and I didn’t have my own keycard with me because I don’t have any stuff in my own room and then I needed to find an excuse for why I was about to get into your room and I am not sure if he bought it and what if he-“ Oscar grips his shoulders vigorously and looks deep into his eyes. “Lando, breathe.”

Lando looks at him confused for a second, before he realizes what he’s saying. “You’re not breathing at all baby, try to focus on breathing for a second, okay?” Hearing Oscar’s voice calms him instantly, and he does as he’s told, focusses on breathing in and out for a while, looking into Oscar’s golden retriever eyes.

“Better?” he finally asks, his voice low and soothing. Lando nods and takes another steadying breath. “Yeah, I just kind of saw my career going down the drain when Charles asked my why I was standing in front of your door.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re overthinking it a bit. Charles is probably occupied enough with his own shit,” Oscar says and adds “I mean they still don’t have a podium,” jokingly.

Lando just hopes Oscar is right. The last thing he wanted, the thing he was worried about continuously for the past 6 years was for somebody to find out about his dynamic, and miraculously, that was the closest he’s ever gotten to that scenario. Even during the time he was scening regularly with Daniel he didn’t get so close to getting caught in the act.

Lando takes a deep breath again, before he lets his head rest against Oscar’s shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for freaking out like that,” Lando mumbles into his sweatshirt.

“No don’t be sorry, it’s a lot, I get it. The crash probably put you on edge a little already, right?”

It takes Lando a second before he nods and mumbles into Oscar’s shoulder. “Yeah, I was really not expecting something like that to happen to me today. It caught me completely off guard.” He lets himself get embraced a little tighter by Oscar, lets him put his hand on his neck, squeezing soothingly. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Oscar mumbles against his forehead.

Lando carefully frees himself from Oscar's embrace, walks over to the bed and drops down on his back on the mattress, his legs dangling from the edge of the bed. He closes his eyes. “Yeah, I think I would prefer not to.”

Oscar approaches the bed and sits down next to him. He strokes over Lando’s chest gently and starts drawing shapes above into the fabric of his shirt.

They sit there in silence for a minute, both pursuing their own thoughts of the day behind them.

“But you’re like still okay with everything between us, right?” Oscar asks after a while, the hesitation and uncertainty audible in his voice.

Lando opens his eyes and searches for. “Yes, very okay.”

Oscar nods, but he doesn’t hold the eye contact, instead, he looks down at where his hand lies on Lando’s chest, absently.

Lando makes sure to give his voice some kind of certainty when he speaks. “I mean it Osc. I’m sorry for how I behaved the past weeks, you didn’t deserve that, and I wish I could explain to you what was going through my stupid head, but to be honest, I am not sure I understand it myself.”

Oscar smiles a shy but affectionate smile when he looks at him. “You’re not stupid,” he says and slightly strokes over Lando’s cheek with his right hand. “Silly? Yes. And a little annoying sometimes,” he says teasingly, “but not stupid.” Lando can’t suppress a little smile.

Oscar keeps his hand on Lando’s face, slowly stroking over his cheek with his thumb, before Lando takes a deep breath.

„I just haven’t had someone to dom me regularly, like a real dynamic relationship before. The closest I ever got to it was with Daniel. And with Daniel it was…”

Oscar gives him a second, watches him as he looks up at the ceiling, before he approaches to dig deeper. “With Daniel it was…?”

Lando looks up at the ceiling, as if pondering how much he wants to reveal to Oscar, before he answers. “I think it was just convenient for both of us. I obviously needed to go down every now and then and… he seemed to get something out of it as well...” It seems like he wants to say something else at first, but he pauses, closes his eyes for a second, breathes out, and when he opens his eyes, he looks determined, as if he just shrugged off the vulnerability that was hanging in the air a second ago.

“But it wasn’t like it is between us. It was not so.. I never felt like I feel when it’s you.“ It’s enough to distract Oscar from what he might have been about to say about the Daniel situation.

He lets his hand roam over Lando’s chest again.

"So, what exactly is it you’re feeling with me?" he says in a slightly teasing tone. Lando rolls his eyes and playfully shoves Oscar’s hand aside. He’s just about to give a snarky remark, as Oscar quickly catches his wrist and pins it to the mattress next to his head. Immediately, Lando feels tension (good tension) broaden in his chest. "Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me.“ Oscar says in a low voice that makes Lando shiver. He swallows hard at the relentless look in Oscar's eyes. "I’m sorry… sir."

It’s a little hesitant, but firm. And Lando is a little proud when he sees the slight flicker of surprise in Oscar's eyes, mixed with pure want.

“Fuck, Lando you can’t just say that,” he says, his voice quivering and breathless, putting his hand that is not still occupied by pinning Lando’s against the mattress on his neck.

Lando leans slightly into the hand at his neck. “Why not?”

He watches as Oscar’s cheeks redden. “It does things to me,” he mumbles under his breath.

Lando grins smugly and uses his free hand to poke at Oscar's hips. “I don’t see how that’s a bad thing.” Oscar is quick to keep him from nudging him by pinning his other hand against the mattress as well. “Well, considering we’re just casual and not in a dynamic relationship, I guess it is.”

Lando is taken aback by Oscar stating that so bluntly. He knows they are not like that, knows they are not serious like that, but he can’t help the ache he feels somewhere in his chest at Oscar saying it out loud. But of course, he wouldn’t want a dysfunctional, sub like Lando who is by the way also hiding his dynamic from the public, who could blame him.  “Okay, well I guess I’m sorry then,” Lando says dryly, hopes his hurt is not audible in his voice. He frees himself of Oscar’s hands and sits up, moving just an inch away from Oscar in the process.

Oscar sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m just saying we should be careful to not blur the lines too much. I am honestly not sure how far I can control my dom instincts if we get closer and I don’t want you to get overwhelmed or anything.”

“Then maybe you should stop calling me baby if you’re so keen on not blurring any lines.” It comes out a lot sharper than Lando intended to, and he sees Oscar flinching slightly at his tone. He makes himself take a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Sorry,” he gets out. “I didn’t mean to sound so…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Bitter would probably be a fitting word. He knows it’s not Oscar that gets him so upset; it’s still the aftermath of his crash that makes him feel worthless and has him searching for an outlet for his anger.

Oscar inhales audibly and sighs a little as he exhales. “Let’s just talk about this another time, okay? It’s been a long day, and we both need a good race tomorrow.” Lando nods, looking down on his lap.

“Just-“ he starts, but then doesn’t finish.

“What?” Oscar says, looking at him expectantly.

“No, it was just- I mean it’s stupid,” Lando tries to brush it off.

Oscar sighs again. “Come on Lan, spit it out,” he says and nudges his waist fondly.

Lando looks up at the ceiling for a second, taking a deep breath.

“Please don’t stop calling me baby…” he finally mumbles, his voice barely a whisper. Oscar’s face softens. He strokes over Lando’s side caringly, lets his hand settle on his neck and pulls him closer, meeting his lips in a soft kiss. He nudges his tongue a little with his own and bites down gently at his lower lip. Then he pulls Lando away by the grip on his neck.

“I think I should put you down again tonight. I don’t know if we will have time after the race tomorrow and I want you to be able to relax a little the next two weeks.”

It suddenly comes to Lando’s realization that they won’t really see each other for a good two weeks, at least not by default. It makes his stomach drop. Two weeks without Oscar’s calming presence around feels like way too long, especially after he has been around almost constantly for the past week.

But going down sounds good. After the hell of a day he’s had, Lando really wants, no, needs Oscar to take control of him. He nods and lets himself be pulled into another kiss by Oscar. Oscar however is still all soft and gentle, and that’s so not what Lando needs right now, so he pushes some buttons within his limits.

He pushes back on the kiss, makes it seem as if he wants to take control. It works immediately. Oscar’s dom-instincts come to life. He grips Lando’s neck with both hands, and shoves his tongue into his mouth, claiming him. Lando moans into the kiss, leans into Oscar’s grip, lets him take control.

Suddenly Oscar grips his hair and pulls his head to the side, so he can have access to Lando’s neck, which he covers in careful kisses until he suddenly begins to suck at one specific spot, just above the collarbone. Lando whines. “Fuck, Oscar that’s going to be visible.”

Oscar stops for a second and looks him in the eyes. “That was the idea,” he growls. “You will manage to hide it under a hoodie or under your racing suit tomorrow, but you will think about me the next couple of days,” he says matter-of-factly. “I want you to look in the mirror of your stupid rich people apartment and see those marks and remember that I am the one who did this to you, remember that I care about you.” Lando makes a strangled noise at those words. “Are you at a loss of words suddenly?” Oscar asks, his voice slightly teasing. “So there is a way to shut you up.”

Lando can’t help but pout a little at that, and he can’t refrain from a snarky remark. “So much to not blurring any lines, huh?”

“Stop complaining, you little menace,” Oscar says and shoves him back onto the bed. He climbs on top of him and starts kissing him forcefully now. He presses his leg between Lando’s, shoves his legs apart to push it against Lando’s dick. Lando moans into the kiss at the pressure.

“I really want to tie you to the headboard,” Oscar whispers, “would that be okay for you?”

Lando moans helplessly. Oscar smirks at him, satisfied, and lets his lips brush over Lando’s earlobe. “I take that as a yes?”

Lando nods eagerly. Apparently, he’s lost his ability to speak.

“See, if you were my sub, I would have to get you to answer me properly now.” Oscar starts kissing Lando’s neck again, breathing out the words whenever he takes his lips off his skin. “And I probably wouldn’t have asked you in the first place whether you were okay with anything.” He moves down to his stomach, pushes up Lando’s shirt to get access to his skin. Lando squirms at Oscar's hot breath tingling at his skin. “I would just do whatever I want to you.” Lando whimpers. “Maybe I would tie you to my bed and keep you there all day, keep you available for me.” The noise escaping Lando’s mouth is nothing but a pathetic whine. “Fuck Oscar, please.”

“Please, what, baby?”

Lando bucks his hips up against Lando’s thighs in search for friction. “Please, Oscar, please, do something, please- touch me, I need it, I need you.”

Oscar pulls on Lando’s shirt until Lando sits up and he can pull the shirt above his head. “What a pleasure to hear Lando Norris begging for me,” he says, breathless, before he kisses him, just once but firm, and shoves him back onto the bed. Lando watches him as he gets up from the bed and walks towards where he put his stuff in the closet (perfect-Oscar-Piastri being all neat and tidy and unpacking his suitcase like a good boy). He watches as he opens the closet door and searches for something, before he comes back to the bed. Without a lot of fuss, he grips Lando’s wrists and draws them above his head. Lando shivers at the domination radiating from Oscar’s firm grip, and the fact that he’s already half naked and half wrecked, while Oscar is still fully clothed and seems as composed as ever. It starts to make Lando’s head all hazy.

He spots the silky strap that Oscar got from the closet, which he uses to tie his wrists first together and then to the headboard. He shivers at the thought that Oscar had this thing with him the entire time, it must have been sitting at the bottom of his suitcase and in his hotel closets ever since he had visited him in Monaco. As Oscar finished his work, he draws back a little, looking at Lando expectantly. “Try it,” he says, nodding towards his tied hands. Lando sucks in a breath before he does as he’s told and tucks at his restrains. He’s a little careful at first, but as he realizes they are not giving in that easily, he exerts a bit more power.

The ties don’t move the tiniest bit. When he looks up in Oscar’s face, he’s met with a satisfied smirk. Slowly, he strokes over Lando’s abs, his chest, up to his jaw where his hand rests for a second. “Still okay?” he asks, his voice soft, but his gaze unrelenting, his eyes dark and hungry. Lando nods.

“I assume you are familiar with the traffic light system? Not that I plan on doing anything crazy, but I want you to be able to stop me if you’re uncomfortable for whatever reason.” Oscar’s hand grazes over his jaw towards the back of his head, stroking through his curls tenderly.

“Yeah,” Lando breathes out. “I will say red if I need you to stop.”

Oscar nods approvingly. “Good boy.”

He brushes his hand over Lando’s shoulders, his collarbone, the mark he left on his neck earlier. “Think you can go down like this?”

Lando nods, “pretty sure that won’t be a problem.” His voice is already kind of hard to control, and he twitches at every touch of Oscar’s hands.

“Okay, then I’m going to take your pants off, okay?” Lando’s breath starts to come in short intervals. “Yes, fuck, yes please.” Oscar looks up at him in a scolding way. “Didn’t I tell you already I don’t like the swearing when we’re scening?” His voice is low and dark, and Lando shivers. “Fuck- I mean- sorry, I won’t- It won’t happen again, I promise.”

It still startles Lando whenever Oscar switches into his deeper, commanding voice that makes him seem so different from the calm and unagitated Oscar Piastri he’s used to, even though he already knows that he can be like that. Oscar lowers his head towards Lando’s collarbone, on the other side from where he already placed a hickey earlier, and brings his lips down on his skin. Lando squirms in the restraints as Oscar sucks a second mark into his skin.

Then Oscar gets up and unzips Lando’s pants and pulls them off of him.

He teases Lando for a minute by circling his pecs with his hands, letting his thumb slide over his nipples lightly before he finally hucks his thumbs under the waistband of Lando’s boxers and pulls them down.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down to cover his abdomen in open-mouthed kisses. Lando whines helplessly and tucks at the restrains, bucking his hips up in the search for any kind of friction.

“Lando, good boys are patient and don’t try to take more than they deserve.”

He’s not sure if Oscar intends it, but Lando feels his words slowly dragging him further down, feels himself getting calmer due to the dark tone of Oscar’s voice. The scolding and commanding words let him relax, the restraints assuring that he doesn’t have to worry about what to do next, because Oscar does the thinking for him, and he has a sense of basic trust that Oscar will take care of him.

Oscar starts kissing his thighs in the area of his dick, making Lando shift slightly, trying to get Oscar to that place where he needs him. But Oscar just lifts his lips away from his skin and waits until Lando is lying still again before he continues.

When he finally puts his mouth on his dick, sucking only at the tip at first, teasing, Lando is so far down he’s not complaining anymore. He just lays there, moaning desperately at the contact of Oscar’s warm mouth on his dick patiently waiting for Oscar to decide that he deserves release.

Finally, Oscar takes him all in, swirls his tongue around his dick, sucks carefully but intently. It only takes a minute from there until Lando’s moans become helpless whines and he starts begging. “Oscar, please- Ah- please, I’m so close. Please, can I come? Please.” Oscar doesn’t let go of his dick, he keeps on moving his head up and down.

“Oscar- Please.”

Oscar lets go of his dick for only a second to say, “come whenever you ready, baby.” Then he sinks back down on him, supporting his mouth with a hand at the base of Lando’s cock.

It takes a couple more practiced swirls around with his tongue, some careful sucks and Lando comes with a whine of pleasure on his lips. He would have thought Oscar would pull off before he orgasmed, but Oscar swallows all of it, even hums slightly around his cock, and fuck, it sends Lando to a different universe. He’s still captured in his hazy mind as Oscar frees him and disappears for a second but comes back quickly and pulls the blanket over Lando, before he reaches his arm up and pulls him closer. Lando buries his head in his neck. They lay there for what feels like hours to Lando, until he feels steady enough to speak. “I can get you off if you want to,” he mumbles, voice unsteady, low and rough. Oscar chuckles a little. “You’re cute,” he says, “it takes you forever to come back up and that’s the first thing you’re saying?” Lando makes a humming sound and ducks his nose more into Oscar’s neck, inhaling his scent as if he wants to store it somewhere inside of him. “By the way, I already took care of that myself, but I’ll come back to the offer next time,” Oscar says fondly, before he presses a kiss into Lando’s curls. It reminds Lando that next time means in about two weeks in Miami.

He groans playfully. “What am I supposed to do without you until Miami?” He presses a kiss on Oscar’s jaw. Oscar doesn’t say anything at first and Lando feels him tensing up slightly next to him.

“Are you serious? I mean, will you be okay?”

Lando does his best to make his voice sound reassuring when he speaks. “Yes, I will be okay. Technically, it's only one and a half weeks, right? Wednesday night I can throw myself back into your arms.” That last part was meant to be a joke, but Lando can’t help the uneasiness that settles in his stomach. The last couple of days had been perfect, racing aside, but what if the time apart will change something between them? Before he can spiral down that line in his head, Oscar’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “I’m already looking forward to it,” he says into his curls, his voice soft and even Lando’s anxious thoughts can’t keep him from smiling about that.

Notes:

Is it Landoscar getting their shit together or is it just an illusion??

Chapter 9: Miami 2025

Notes:

Literally posting this while watching the race haha. Very on time today.

Miami 2025

 

- Monday -

Sunday night, they fly to England with the rest of the McLaren Team, where Oscar goes to his own apartment, and Lando to the room at the McLaren guest house they reserved for him. There’s too much attention on him and Oscar for them to sneak around and manage to sleep at the same place. So, they settle on excessive texting that night. Oscar texts lando how much he wants him close to him and Lando just texts him how much he wants his dick in his mouth.

They spend the whole of Monday and Tuesday at the MTC, working on stuff for Miami, but also doing a whole lot of social media stuff. Whenever he has the chance to issue physical contact without making it inappropriate, Oscar briefly sneaks a hand on Lando’s shoulder when they stand next to each other during a discussion on the car, or his waist when they take a photo for social media, or on his lower back when he passes him on his way through the building. A shudder goes through Lando every time Oscar does that, expressing his claim on Lando so imperceptible for others, only them knowing it’s not just a fond gesture between friends, but a lot more.

At Tuesday night, Lando is shuttled to the airport and flies home to Monaco in a private jet alone. When he finally arrives at his apartment and falls into his bed, it’s already past midnight. He’s so happy to be back home, in the space he feels the most comfortable and at ease, that he only slightly wishes himself back to the beginning of last week, when he knew that he would be waking up in Oscar’s arms for the whole week.

 

- Friday -

Oscar [16:27]

How is your week going?

Lando [16:31]

Fine, I guess, yours?

Oscar [16:32]

There is “fine“ again. And what is “I guess“ supposed to mean?

Lando [16:35]

🙄

Okay, scratch that. Nothing crazy happening, but I am going to smash Max and Charles in Padel tomorrow.

And how is your week?

Oscar [16:41]

It’s somewhat okay.

To be honest, I haven’t done anything other than eating and training. I am so exhausted it’s crazy.

Lando [16:43]

Really?

I mean it was tough three weeks for sure but nothing you haven’t done before, right?

Oscar [16:54]

Yeah, I don’t know, it’s weird.

I’m literally just lying in bed all day. I can’t bring myself to do anything.

Lando [16:58]

Now I’m picturing you in your bed.

Oscar [17:00]

Enjoying it?

Lando [17:01]

Are you wearing something?

Oscar [17:01]

Wtf? Of course, I am wearing like normal clothes. Just because I’m lying in bed all day doesn’t mean I don’t have my life together.

Lando [17:01]

Pity.

Oscar [17:18]

Maybe I just miss you. Maybe not having you here after last week has my body in some kind of withdrawal.

Lando [17:20]

Oh god, you’re obsessed with me! Should have known that would happen. They always get like that.

Oscar [17:23]

You are a menace.

But you could help me by coming back here and let me wrap my arms around you.

Lando [17:34]

Sorry mate, but I have things to do :(

Also, that wouldn’t be very casual of us, if I would be running back to you after only 2 days apart. You know, blurring the lines and stuff.

🙃

Oscar [17:37]

🙄

Changed my mind, having you here wouldn’t be good for my blood pressure.

Lando [17:37]

Dude, how old are you?

Oscar [17:37]

Younger than you.

Lando [17:41]

I have to get going now.

Talk later?

Oscar [17:43]

Sure, go do your Lando-stuff.

Lando [17:43]

Thanks babe.

Oscar [17:45]

Lan, the lines!

Lando [17:45]

I say fuck the lines, haha.

 

- Sunday -

Lando is currently playing a round of FIFA with Max Fewtrell as his phone rings. At first, he wants to ignore it to focus on winning the game, but he makes the mistake of looking on the display of his phone and now he knows who is trying to call him. He instantly drops his controller.

“Sorry Max, I have to take an important call.”

“What call at 10pm is more important than losing to me in fifa?” He hears the suspicion in Max voice over the discord, and he smiles a little to himself about his little secret.

“For the record, I would’ve won this round easily,” Lando says before he quickly drops his headset and closes the discord.

Then he grabs his phone and scoots out of the room towards the living room where he lets himself drop on the one of the three giant sofas. Something inside of him tingles as he presses the button to answer the call.

“Hey Osc,” he says in a voice that he hopes sounds as casual as possible and not like he just dropped everything in an instant to answer the call.

“Hey Baby,” Oscar’s calm and grounding voice answers. Lando’s breath hitches at the casual use of the word and it spreads a warmth in his chest.

“What can I do for you?” Lando could course his voice as it is cracking while he says it. He hears Oscar chuckle breathily into the phone.
“Oh, I could think of a lot of things you could do for me,” Oscar says, his voice low and suggestive, playfully. “But most of them would require your physical presence, and as you refused to come to England for me, I guess that’s not really an option.”

Lando swallows. He wishes he would’ve taken Oscar up on the invitation three days ago. He would give a lot for the chance to lay in Oscar’s arms right now, to let him do the things to him that he usually did. To bury a hand in his curls, make him forget everything else … “Only most of them?” he says carefully, adjusting his voice to match the suggestive tone in Oscar’s. “What about the options that don’t require my physical presence?”

“Are you hard, baby?” It doesn’t come as a surprise to him that Oscar can hear from his voice alone how his dick is already hardening. Lando closes his eyes at the dark tone of Oscar’s voice and lets his head fall back against the back of the couch.

“Maybe a little.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m sitting on the couch in the living room.”

Oscar pauses briefly before he responds. “Lie down on your back,” he commands in a calm, quiet voice, “and put the phone down next to you.”

Oscar gives him some time, and Lando obeys, shuffling himself onto his back on the couch. When he turns his head to the side, he can see the Ocean out of the big living room window.

“Put your hand on your dick, but stay above your pants,” Oscar says and Lando whimpers through clenched teeth.

He palms himself through his pants, breathing out a muted moan.

“How was your day?” Oscar says. He probably wants to appear untouched by the situation, but his voice has turned slightly rougher during the last minutes.

“Fine,” Lando says in a low voice.

“I can’t do much with that,” Oscar responds.

Lando sighs. “Don’t stop touching yourself,” Oscar’s voice shoots through the phone. “M‘not,” Lando mumbles. „I slept in, and then I went for a run, and then I ate too much, and then I beat Max Fewtrell in Fifa.”

Oscar huffs. “Gripping.”

“You asked. What did you expect me to do anyway?”

“Push down your pants and stroke yourself, but slowly. You’re not going to get quicker until I allow it, got it?”

“Yes, Oscar,” Lando breathes into the phone and preens as he hears Oscar taking in a sharp breath. It’s almost funny how easy it is to get a Dom worked up sometimes.

“Touch your nipples with your other hand, the way I would if I were with you right now.”

Lando whimpers a little. He doesn’t like touching himself like that. Something about it makes him embarrassed of himself. It’s already hard for him to come to terms with how much he likes it when somebody else touches him there, but having a dom keeping him from fighting back makes it easier. It makes it seem like he can’t do anything about being touched like that, which allows him to let go and enjoy it.

“Lando, I have a feeling you’re not doing what I told you.”

Lando makes a helpless noise into the phone. His hand on his dick and Oscar’s commanding tone makes him incapable of speaking.

 “Be a good boy and touch your nipples,” Oscar says, his voice rough and unrelenting. Lando makes a strangled noise. “Oscar, please, I-”

“I am not going to say it again, baby,” Oscar interrupts him, soft but determined. “If you are not a good boy, I’ll have to punish you by making you stop.” Lando can’t help but squeeze the base of his cock tightly as Oscar says that, a desperate moan escaping from his lips. “No, please, I am good, I will-” He strokes over the side of his chest under his hoodie, bringing his hand closer to his nipples at least. “Lando, do it now,” Oscar says, annoyed. Lando sighs audibly, then he slowly brings his hand above his right nipple, touching it hesitantly at first. He forces himself to circle it, the way Oscar did last week, imagining Oscar was here with him right now, moaning at the thought.

“There we go,” Oscar says, as if he were not more than 1000 kilometres away but right next to him, “I knew you would be a good boy for me.”

Lando can’t help the soft whimper that escapes from his mouth.

“When are you going to Miami again?” Oscar asks, sounding a little worked up.

“Some time on Wednesday,” Lando breathes. „Not sure yet when I arrive.”

“Well, I‘d like to know as soon as you’re there,” Oscar says, his voice firm.

“Yes, Oscar,” Lando says again, their conversation alone bringing him close to the edge.

“By the way, there’s something I wanted to ask you for quite a while.” The casual, calm tone in Oscar's voice while Lando himself feels like a needy mess makes him feel inferior. “Have you touched yourself ever since last Saturday?”

Fuck, Lando thinks he might die. This question is something like an uncollared sub’s wet dream.

“No,” he admits, his voice breaking away almost completely. His hand on his cock, stroking himself still slowly, starts to make him crazy. “I didn’t know if I was allowed.” It shouldn’t be a thing to control a subs orgasms beyond a scene in a casual relationship. But Lando doesn’t care if that might be a bit too much of a statement for their relationship, if it was blurring any lines.

Oscar doesn’t answer right away. The only thing Lando hears for a while is Oscar's heavy breathing into the phone, while he keeps stroking himself slowly, and alternating squeezes between his left and right nipple.

“Thank you for being honest,” Oscar finally says. Apparently, he’s not interested in letting Lando know if he was allowed to touch himself or not. But if he were honest, Lando didn’t really care. He knew he wouldn’t dare to touch himself without Oscar’s consent, no matter what they are officially or aren't. He knew the lines were already practically invisible, at least for him.

“You can stroke faster now. Do what you need to get you there, baby.” That Lando doesn’t need to be told twice. He picks up the pace, stroking himself faster, moaning softly into the phone, until he spills all over his hand and his stomach.

It takes him a second to catch himself. He just lies there, eyes closed, replaying everything Oscar just said in his head.

“Have- Did you-“ Lando stammers after a while without finishing the sentence, but Oscar understands him anyway. “It’s cute that you think I was strong enough to hold myself together while you sound like you just did and do all of the things I tell you,” Oscar says, amused, a little breathless. “Sometimes it seems like you have no idea how sweet you are when you are like this. And hot.” Lando feels his cheeks burning at Oscar's words, and he’s glad Oscar isn’t actually around to see it.

Oscar clears his throat. “By the way, I don’t want you to think that I only called for phone sex.”

“What do you mean, ‘only’?” Lando asks, his voice still small and exhausted, but his usual playful tone slowly coming back to his voice. It’s always a little difficult for him to come back to being ‘normal’ Lando after scening, and apparently also after whatever it was they had just done. Usually, Oscar’s presence helps him with that.

Unintentionally, he sighs into the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Oscar says, and Lando can hear the slight agitation in his voice even through the phone.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, rolling his eyes at the phone. “I just thought that it would be nice if you were here right now.” It's silent for a moment.  Lando fumbles with the cord of his hoodie.

“I just… I don’t know, I think I just miss your presence. The sub in me just felt a lot calmer when you were within an arm’s reach the whole time,” he mumbles. He hesitates for a second before he continues. “Like, I always knew that you were around, I could rely on the fact that you would be there for me if something happened or if I needed to go down. I just felt a lot less anxious, and I think I miss that feeling of safety.”

It's silent for a moment longer, both of them just breathing into the phone, enjoying the comfortable silence between them.

“Yeah, I miss it too,” Oscar whispers into the phone.

Lando is a bit startled by this response. “You do?” he says, his voice carrying an incredulous tone.

It takes Oscar a second before he replies. “Yeah,” he whispers finally. “I know you think that you’re the only one who needs to be put down every now and then. But honestly, sometimes I feel like I need it just as much. Like, the feeling of being in control of you, to see you give in to me, it eases something inside of me.“

He pauses for a moment. “Like, remember after Melbourne? I had felt like shit the whole week, but when you let me take control over you before the race in China I felt like I could finally let go of those thoughts in my head. Like there was finally something else I could focus on. Something a lot more important than the stupid race.“

“Did you just call taking care of me more important than a freaking Formular 1 race? Are you alright mate? Should I call an emergency to go check on you?”

“You could’ve been sweet and just take it as a compliment, but what was I thinking,” Oscar says, sounding annoyed, but Lando hears the fondness in his voice, and it sparks a warmth in his chest. Something inside of him starts lighting up at their casual banter.

For a moment, it’s just their mutual breathing on each side of the line, and Lando turns to his side and closes his eyes for a second, all peaceful and pleased.

“I’ve been thinking,” Oscar says after a while.

“You? Thinking? That must be new for you. How did it go?”

“Shut up.” Lando can hear Oscar’s smile through the phone, even though he’s sure that he’s trying to suppress it.

“You know Monaco is like very close to Imola and sort of on the way from England.”

Lando stops breathing for a second. He thinks about how he wants to respond to that and settles on ‘playing it cool.’ “Yeah, mate, I also had geography classes in school.”

Oscar doesn’t respond anything to that, only sighs a little into the phone, so Lando forces himself to cut the attitude and answer him properly.

“What exactly are you trying to say?” he says, even though he is pretty sure he knows exactly what Oscar wants to say, but he can’t believe he’s that lucky. He needs to hear it from Oscar’s lips.

“And just a minute ago you said I was new to the concept of thinking,” Oscar mumbles. It's silent for a moment on the other end of the line before Lando hears Oscar breathe in audibly.

“I’m suggesting that I could come to Monaco for a couple of days before Italy, you idiot.”

Lando wants to jump up from the couch and do cartwheels, not that he thinks he’s actually able to do one. He forces himself to breathe in and out slowly, so when he speaks, he doesn’t sound like a child on Christmas Morning.

“Sounds great to me,” he says. Oscar doesn’t respond immediately. “You know you can say no, right?”

Lando yawns. “Why would I say no to that, Osc? It’s literally all I’m dreaming of to have you here with me again.” It sounds a bit like a joke, like he’s teasing Oscar, and only Lando knows how much it is actually the truth.

“I just don’t want to force myself on you. I want to give you your space.”

Lando yawns again, he’s suddenly very tired. “Hey, remember what you said to me in Melbourne?” he says, his voice already sleepy. “You said that we should just talk about it if any of this thing becomes too much for us. I might not have been the best at talking about my feelings so far, but I am really trying to get better at it. And I promise I would tell you if I didn’t want you here.”

Oscar is silent for a second before he responds. “Thank you for saying that.” It sounds so sincere and meaningful for some reason. Lando smiles a little to himself. “I always knew I was good with words. People just never appreciated it.” He hears Oscar chuckle softly at the other end of the line. “I should probably go to sleep. I have to wake up early.” Lando yawns. “Yeah, me too. Well, I don’t have to get up early but I’m like super tired now.”

“Have I worn you out?” Oscar says, the grin on his voice audible even through the phone. “You can be pretty exhausting, yes,” Lando replies playfully.

“Good night, Osc.”

“Night, Lan.”

 

 

- Wednesday -

When Lando arrives in Miami on Wednesday night, Oscar has already been there for two days. He goes straight from the airport to his hotel room. Even though it would’ve made more sense for either Oscar and him to book a whole place for them and their teams, they both settled on taking a hotel room instead, so that they could sneak around to see each other without anyone noticing.

Oscar [21:52]

Did you make it?

Lando [21:55]

Yeah, finally arrived at the hotel like a minute ago.

Oscar [22:06]

Can I come over?

Or do you want to chill a second first?

Of course, it’s also fine if you don’t want me to come over tonight. If you want your privacy or something.

Just tell me what you feel like.

 

Lando [22:10]

Do you really expect me to say that I don’t want to see you?

Just come over already.

 

A minute later, Oscar stands in front of his hotel room door. He hurries inside, turning one more time before he enters the room, making sure no one spied on them. Then he pulls Lando into a tight hug by his waist.

Oscar buries his nose in his neck and takes a deep breath, which has Lando all squirming and whining because it tickles, but he also relishes it. It feels just so good to see and feel how much Oscar is longing for him.

He thinks briefly whether it should concern them that they apparently got so attached to each other so quickly. But he’s too happy that he will have Oscar the whole weekend, and in a couple of days, he will have him all to himself in Monaco, which is even better. So he saves the thought for another time.

Oscar pushes him back towards the bed until Lando hits it with the back of his knees, and Oscar gently pushes him onto it. Lando watches as Oscar climbs on top of him, eager to finally meet his lips with his own. Oscar entwines his hands with his own, and Lando lets him press his hands to the bed next to his head and hums into the kiss as Oscar leans down and presses their lips together. Lando eagerly lifts his head from the bed as best as he can with his hands pinned down, trying to get closer, to take more.

“Missed me that much?” Oscar says breathlessly when Lando lets his head fall back towards the mattress and their mouths part for a second. “Just a little,” Lando grins sheepishly, but teasingly. Oscar rolls his eyes at him, then brings his head down and closer again. Lando already reaches up to meet Oscar in a kiss again, but Oscar turns his head away at the last moment before their lips touch and brings them to Lando’s neck instead. Lando gasps as Oscar runs his teeth over Lando’s neck carefully, nibbling at the skin, before he moves on to the part of his collarbone that he can reach by pulling the collar of his t-shirt to the side. Lando closes his eyes and stops thinking completely, focusing only on the feeling of Oscar's lips on his skin for a moment.

He's so lost in his feelings that he doesn’t notice it immediately when Oscar stops. When he opens his eyes, Oscar’s face hovers above him, their eyes locking and Oscar smiling softly. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers, and Lando feels his cheeks growing red. “Don’t know if I can identify with that,” he mumbles, breaking their eye contact and looking past Oscar towards the ceiling. Oscar releases Lando’s right hand and uses his now free hand to cup his chin instead to bring Lando’s attention back to his face. He stares into his eyes intently with a slightly open mouth, as if he wants to say something, but settles instead on kissing Lando again, biting down on his lower lip softly.

When he is satisfied with the way Lando is all soft and hazy and his lips are slightly red and swollen, he lets himself drop down on the bed next to him, puts an arm around Lando’s chest, and caresses his rips caringly. Lando leans his head against him and closes his eyes.

“By the way, I can go back to my room if you don’t want me here, I just wanted to see you, but if you want your privacy,y I can-“

“Shut up right now,” Lando cuts him off, sleepily already.

Oscar doesn’t say anything more than that. He just pulls Lando closer, pressing another kiss to his neck.

 

- Thursday -

Media day is hard.

Lando knows he has been kind of on a downfall ever since his amazing start to the season in Melbourne. But the reporters make sure he doesn’t forget that.

Everywhere Lando goes, reporters make it their destiny to ensure that his already cracked self-confidence doesn’t stay with him in one piece.

They all ask the same question, whether he thinks he will be back on top, whether he thinks if he can manage another win in Miami this year, following up on his win last year, with his crumbling confidence. And while he is managing to shrug it off in the beginning, it starts to get to him more and more every time the interview gets in that direction. And he knows it’s not a good thing, but it shows. His answers get shorter, he gets more and more nervous, more and more annoyed with himself, and he can’t hide it.

He already puts a lot of pressure on himself, and hearing the waning trust from the reporters in their questions adds to it. Meanwhile, whenever he manages to take a look over his shoulder towards Oscar, he sees him smiling, his calm and effortless demeanour charming reporter after reporter. Well, he probably doesn’t get asked if he thinks he will be able to continue to fight for the championship this season.

And Lando hates himself for it, but he notices how he’s starting to resent Oscar a bit. It takes all his strength to remember that all of this has nothing to do with their relationship, that it doesn’t change anything about the way Oscar takes him into his arms at night, and how Lando leans into him.

Yet, his mood gets worse and worse.

When he’s finally free to go back to his hotel, he doesn’t wait for Oscar. He just grabs his things and escapes as quickly as possible. He knows he should do something to make Oscar feel like everything’s fine, but he’s too lost in his own head that he can’t bring himself to it.

He arrives at his hotel room and just lies straight down in his bed, until he looks at his phone to see his texts.

Oscar [19:04]

Hey, are you okay? I was looking for you earlier, but you were already gone.

 

It takes Lando a bit to make himself answer. He knows how unfair it is to be cold to Oscar. His foul mood is not Oscar’s fault.

 

Lando [19:27]

Hey. Yeah, I’m fine.

Just not in the best mood.

Lando [19:34]

I think I just need some time for myself. I wouldn’t be the best company right now.

Oscar [19:46]

Hmm okay.

Oscar [19:52]

Well, if you want to spend time with yourself next to me in bed, let me know.

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t mind your mood.

But no pressure obviously.

It’s okay if you need some time for yourself.

Lando [19:55]

Thanks, Osc.

In the lack of anything else to do, Lando gets ready for bed and lies down, trying to sleep.

Of course, he can’t. His mind is running in circles, he’s unable to put a stop to the carousel that is his self-destructing thoughts.

He tries to calm his mind and fall asleep for another hour, before he flips back the blanket angrily and gets up from the bed. He checks his hair in the bathroom mirror quickly before he storms out of his room and over to Oscar’s.

He knocks with a bit more force than necessary, anxious that somebody is going to see him sneaking into Oscar’s room. At least he doesn’t have a keycard this time, so his behaviour is at least a bit less suspicious than last week.

Oscar opens the door with a genuine surprised look, but his face quickly lights up as he sees him.

“Hey,” Lando says, almost shy. „Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Oscar says, stepping aside quickly to make room for Lando to come into the room.

Lando lets himself drop on the edge of the bed and looks down on the floor. He came here with the intention of telling Oscar everything that was going through his head the past hours, but now that he’s here, the words just won’t come out. Oscar stands in the middle of the room, a little lost.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, softly, caringly.

Lando breaths out audibly. „Hug me?” he asks, looking up at Oscar through his lashes.

Oscar looks like someone who just rescued a kitten from the streets. “Of course, come here baby.” Lando instantly feels better at the use of the pet name and lets himself be pulled into Oscar’s arms.

“It was just all a bit much today I think.” he mumbles into Oscar’s shoulder, taking a moment to breathe in Oscar’s smell while he’s at it.

“Stupid reporters with stupid questions and no empathy.”

Oscar hums understandingly.

“Yeah, I know it’s tough sometimes,” Oscar says while he brings his hand up to stroke his neck, which makes Lando feel like he really is a rescued cat.

“But they are also just doing their job,” he adds.

Lando rolls his eyes. “I know that too. I’m not dumb.”

Oscar pushes him away so he’s at arm’s length. He takes his chin in his hand and lifts Lando’s head so he can look him in the eyes. “Don’t let it out on me,” he says, all confident and pragmatic Oscar Piastri again, but not without affection. Lando wants to avoid his intense gaze, but Oscar’s grip is firm.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mumbles. Oscar just pulls him in for a kiss, and Lando melts into it.

“Sleep here?” Oscar asks, stroking Lando’s jaw with his thumb.

Lando nods. “If you still want me.”

Oscar smiles fondly. “Stupid thing to say,” he whispers, and pushes Lando back to the bed gently but determined. “Why wouldn’t I want you?” Lando just shrugs his shoulders dismissively. “Never know what’s going on in a doms head. Sometimes they want you, sometimes you’re annoying, sometimes you’re useless.” Oscar furrows his brows. “Who said you’re useless?” Lando turns his face and looks away from Oscar. “Forget it. This day just really got to me, okay? My mind is like all over the place.” Oscar looks at him as if he wants to push a little on the issue but apparently thinks better of it. Instead, he lays a hand on Lando’s neck and squeezes softly. “Well, I’m not annoyed. I’m glad you’ve come after all.”

They lay down beside each other on the bed, Oscar pulling Lando close, stroking over his back and kissing him emphatically.

“Can I try something to make you feel better?” he whispers into Lando’s ear. Lando looks at him and nods hesitantly. “But you don’t have to you know. I didn’t come here because I wanted you to make me feel better about myself.”

“I know. But I want to.”

Oscar sits up and tugs at Lando’s shirt intently. “I want this off,” he murmurs. Lando shivers before he sits up, pulls his shirt above his head, and throws it down to the floor, having no intention to ever put it back on tonight. When he’s finished, Oscar pushes him back down on the mattress by his shoulders.

Oscar comes to sit on his thighs. He gently tugs on Lando’s nipples once, making him gasp and squeeze his eyes. Then he bends down, bringing his mouth down to Lando’s chest. He finds a spot just underneath his ribs and sucks on it, hard, making Lando moan and squirm and arch his back. When he’s finished, he comes up far enough to look into Lando’s eyes.

“Stop squirming,” he says, his voice firm and commanding. “I want you to be still.” Lando whimpers at the tone. He already forgot why he was in such a bad mood just a minute ago.

Oscar bends down again, focussing on the same spot on the other sight of Lando’s chest and sucks again. Lando has to use all his strength to stay still and not squirm at the slightly uncomfortable feeling. When Oscar is happy, he moves down towards Lando’s waist, sucking on his stomach and then again just above the waistline of his boxers. He’s so dangerously close to his dick that Lando can’t help but whine and slightly buck up his hips against Oscar’s mouth. A sharp slap meets the side of his right thigh and Lando gasps audibly.

“I said be still,” Oscar’s voice cuts through the silence of the room, sharp and unrelenting. “You can be so greedy sometimes.” Lando whimpers. “I’m sorry... Oscar.”

Oscar squeezes his thigh where he slapped him. “You’re getting one more chance to show me that you can be good. Don’t disappoint me.” Lando squeezes his eyes shut and moans softly. His mind is occupied by a thick haze that doesn’t let him form coherent thoughts anymore.

Oscar pulls down the waistband of his boxershorts just a couple centimetres and starts sucking above his waistline frequently. Lando doesn’t bother anymore to keep his whimpering and moaning at bay. He’s too busy keeping himself still.

When Oscar is finished with spreading hickeys all over his upper body, he kisses his way up to his face, spreads open-mouthed kisses along his neck and his jaw, until he cups Lando’s chin and shoves his tongue into his mouth. Lando is completely loose and wanting, let's him explore his mouth with his tongue without any resistance.

“Whatever you do, don’t take your fireproofs off in front of cameras the next couple of days when you don’t have a shirt underneath,” he says, the cheeky smile on his face audible in his voice.

Lando makes a strangled voice at the thought of what his chest must look like. He feels… owned. Marked. Marked as Oscar’s. The sub inside him goes a little crazy at the thought.

“Try to think about that when your thoughts are spiralling. About how much I-“ Oscar pauses for a second, hesitates. “How much I care about you,” he finishes the sentence. “Maybe it helps you to focus more on how precious you are, and less about what other people seem to think about you.”

Oscar lies back down next to him and pulls Lando closer. Lando puts his head on Oscar’s chest, inhales the Oscar-smell that’s clinging to his shirt, and falls asleep within the next 10 minutes.

Notes:

I somehow don’t know how to implement the things that actually happen into my story. Like it really bothers me when I know that they arrive on Miami on a different day then I want them to arrive for storyline purpose, but then it doesn’t really fit the writing as well if I make them arrive on the day they really did, do you get what I mean?

If you have feelings about that, please let me know <3

Chapter 10: Imola 2025

Notes:

Not me being just in time for race weekend with a new chapter??
I hope you enjoy :)

- Sunday -

Oscar arrives in Monaco on Sunday of the off weekend on a private jet. He usually tries to avoid taking private jets for shorter flights like this because he feels like it is silly to go on a private jet alone for such a short distance. But he wanted to avoid being seen in public and raising questions about what he is doing in Monaco as best as he can, so he settled on flying private.

Lando picks him up from the airport again, just as he did the last time Oscar came to visit.

When he walks towards Lando’s McLaren 765LT in the parking lot of the airport, Lando casually leaning against the car with his sunglasses, beige pants and a short sleeved dark green linen button down, he can’t shake the thoughts of the last time he came to Monaco to visit Lando. It had been a great until everything practically went up in flames. He can’t stop his mind from wandering about how the next couple of days could go. What if it became too much for Lando again? What if Oscar did something that made Lando back away again?

The worst thing is that Oscar knows if his Monaco trip ended the way it did the last time, he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore. When he thinks about how hurt he was after the last time, the turmoil he was in when he didn’t know what was going through Lando’s mind, and whether he still wanted this thing between them… He knows going through something similar again would crush him in a way that would make it impossible for them to carry on with- whatever it was exactly that was going on between them.

But seeing Lando standing there in front of the car, a little self-conscious but obviously trying to play it cool, the fear of being rejected by Lando again is replaced by the desire to grab him, kiss him and run a hand through his curls.

Of course, there’s no way he could do that here, in public, where everyone and their mom could see them, so he safes his explicit thoughts for a later time and instead just pulls Lando into a tight hug when he arrives at the car. And he’s fucking relieved when he feels Lando’s arms around his back, Lando leaning into the hug without any hesitation. They get into the car and Oscar has to activate all his self-restraining-strength to not pull Lando into a messy kiss the moment they are out of the public eye, behind the locked doors of the car. When they reach the highway towards Monaco, he contents himself with putting his hand on Lando’s thigh, gripping softly. It’s possessive, and he’s on the verge of overthinking whether it is appropriate given their casual relationship. But Lando’s shaky breathing and his satisfied dom-instincts convince him that it is perfectly fine pretty quickly.

They arrive at Lando’s apartment complex, and Oscar manages to keep his hands to himself in the garage and in the elevator, but the second they step into the safety of Lando’s apartment, and the elevator door closes behind them, he drops his bag to the floor and pushes Lando against the next available wall.

Lando gasps in surprise, but moans into the aggressive kiss the next second. Oscar pins his wrists against the wall, pushes Lando’s legs apart and his thigh against Lando’s dick, which lets Lando’s mouth fall open and almost immediately turns him into a needy, obedient and loose mess in Oscar’s hands.

“I missed you so much,” Oscar whispers between longing, messy kisses. “I missed this so much.”

“For a second I thought you might already be sick of me,” Lando whispers back, his voice barely steady. It’s so obvious how he’s trying to play it cool, but it’s a lost cause.

“I don’t think I will ever get sick of this,” Oscar growls back. He takes both of Lando’s wrists into one hand, so he can grip his neck with the other. Lando whimpers into his mouth softly. “Please,” he whispers, and it goes straight to Oscar’s cock.

“Bedroom,” he commands, and pulls Lando of the wall. “Now.”

Oscar undresses him slowly, taking his time with opening every single button of his shirt, ignoring Lando’s impatient noises. He can’t help the disgruntled curl of his lips when he takes in the sight of Lando’s smooth and pristine chest – all of the marks he left there last week already gone. It bothers him, even though he would never admit it.

He unzips Lando’s pants and pulls them down, before he pushes him onto his stupidly large bed. He searches through Lando’s closet confidently, as if it was his own, until he finds a soft and silky tie that he uses to tie Lando’s hands to the headboard. He takes his time caressing Lando’s body, twisting and pinching his nipples until they are hard and red and Lando is a whining mess, before he sucks hickeys into his upper thighs, close to his dick. He has to stop himself from sucking around his neck as well, where it would be visible for everybody else.

He pulls Lando’s boxers off unceremoniously and starts sucking his dick without any more fuss, but he takes his time teasing and torturing Lando, while he puts his hands back on his already sore nipples, squeezing them relentlessly. Lando’s desperate whines and moans and ‘Oscar, please’-s only encourage him further. He makes it his personal mission to make him fall apart completely until he forgets everything around him.

When Lando comes, Oscar swallows his cum almost greedily, as if it was his reward for his efforts.

He gets himself off with Lando still tied to the bed, and he comes all over Lando’s stomach, which embarrasses him a second later for being such a cliché dom thing – marking up his sub with his cum. Wait- of course not his sub. Just a sub. Or whatever.
He apologises awkwardly, even though Lando assures him that there is nothing to apologise for, his face all flushed and his eyes glossy.

Oscar unties him and gets a towel from the bathroom, with which he cleans him up, before he drops down on the mattress next to him, one hand stroking over Lando’s shoulder. He looks down on Lando’s marked thighs and feels embarrassed over his possessive streak.

“Was that too much?” he asks after a while, his self-conscious thoughts running away from him before he can stop them. A small smile steals itself on Lando’s face. “Fuck no,” he says. “It was many things, but certainly not too much.”

Oscar returns the smile. “Okay,” he whispers, relieved, and presses a kiss to Lando’s neck before he turns around on his back and closes his eyes for a minute.

They just lay there for a while, silently enjoying each other’s company, the comfort their mutual presence grants them.

Lando must be very lost in his own mind, Oscar thinks, because suddenly, he feels Lando’s hand running through his hair and over his neck. And if there was one thing that Lando had avoided for the past months, it was touching Oscar. One of the reasons Oscar had had his doubts that Lando wanted this thing between them had been that Lando had never made any move to touch him, had never initiated anything himself, while Oscar himself had never really been able to keep his hands to himself. But now Lando was touching him. And it feels like a thousand fireflies in Oscar’s stomach.

Oscar gives himself another couple of moments relishing in the feeling of Lando’s hands on him, before he makes a careful attempt to find out why Lando is doing this all of a sudden.

“What are you doing?” he asks carefully with a small smile on his face, desperately trying not to scare Lando away.

“What?” Lando responds, his voice sleepy and absentmindedly.

“Since when is running a hand through my hair something you do?”

Lando stills instantly.

“Fuck,” he says, breathless, and pulls his hand away like he burned himself. “I’m sorry.”

Oscar turns his head around, confused by Lando’s excessive reaction. “Why are you apologising for touching my hair, Lando?”

Oscar can’t help it, Lando looks horrified when their eyes lock. Slowly, a sinking feeling comes up in Oscar’s stomach. He feels like he’s about to throw up.

“Lando,” he says with his authoritative voice. “Tell me why you’re scared to touch me. Now.”

Lando swallows. “I don’t know… Most doms don’t like it when their subs touch them without permission. At least most of the doms I met so far. So… I figured it’s usually the safest to just not do it at all.”

Oscar would give everything to focus solely on the fact that Lando had just implied that he is Oscar’s sub, but unfortunately there are more important issues on the table at the moment. He feels anger rising inside him at Lando’s words.

“Lando,” he says and tries to suppress his anger as best as he can. The last thing he wants right now is to make Lando even more insecure by seeming angry at him.

“Did you see doms in the past that… punished you simply because you touched them? Outside of scening?”

Wasn’t Daniel the only dom he had seen regularly? Had there been others?

Slowly, as if he’s not sure whether he should be honest about this or not, Lando nods and Oscar can feel his own heart breaking for Lando.

“Fuck. Lando, that’s like so fucked up.”

Lando looks up at the ceiling, clearly in an attempt to escape Oscar’s gaze.

“I don’t know. Maybe some-” but Oscar is quick to interrupt him.
“No! Don’t you dare defend those people. Shit like this is exactly everything I hate about dom culture these days. Some doms just don’t seem to be able to think straight. And our shit fucking society does exactly nothing about it, let alone the freaking government.”

He turns to face Lando and puts his hand firmly on his neck. He would like to shake all of these fucked up thoughts right out of Lando’s head, but that would probably not be the best for Lando’s mental health, so he tries talking instead.

“Lando, I want you to know that I will never, ever, be mad at you for wanting to touch me. I’m happy that you want to touch me. I swear to God, if I ever don’t want you to touch me while were scening or whatever, I will always let you know.”

Lando still doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? I really didn’t want to-”

“You are going to shut your mouth right now, do you hear me?” Lando lowers his gaze to escape Oscars eyes. With a sigh that escapes Oscar completely unwillingly, he grabs Lando’s chin and lifts his head, so that he can look him in the eyes again.

“Lando, those doms who- if they did something to you because you simply wanted to touch them, if they gave you the feeling that you did something wrong because of that- They are idiots with control issues. It’s not your fault, okay?”

It takes a second before Lando responds, and when he does, it’s not more than a whisper. “Okay.”

Oscar lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He lets his hand wander from Lando’s chin to his neck again. He increases the pressure to tilt Lando’s head towards him and presses a soft, lingering kiss on Lando’s forehead.

Then he looks him in the eyes again. “I want you to put your hand back in my hair. Or, I don’t know, just put it wherever you want,” he says quietly but firmly. He realizes it sounds like a command, and that kind of misses the point of the whole thing, so he adds a small and almost begging “please”.

He sees Lando’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Then Lando slowly, carefully, reaches out his hand again and lays it on Oscar’s head. He slowly strokes through his hair on the side of his head above his temple.

Oscar lets out a relieved breath and nestles his head into Lando’s hand.

“Lan, just because I’m a dom and you’re a sub that doesn’t mean that you can’t do something if you want to. You are allowed to want things.” He focuses on keeping eye contact while he says that, as If it would help to alter Lando’s thoughts and self-perception.

“Yeah, I kind of know that. Like I know I shouldn’t have a problem with this stuff, and I know you wouldn’t be mad at me about it… But it’s just ingrained in my head.” Oscar feels him running a hand through the strands of his hair.

“But I’m going to work on it. I promise.”

Oscar grabs his hand and pulls it from his head to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to it, before he puts it back towards his hair.

They lay there for another hour, mostly both scrolling through their phones absentmindedly, but always seeking some form of physical contact. It’s Lando’s hand in Oscar’s hair, or Oscar’s hand on Lando’s thigh, or their hands finding each other and linking together.

Around late afternoon, Oscar manages to drag Lando out of bed again and convinces him to go to the gym. Only when they are already lifting weights, Oscar realizes that it might not have been the best idea after all. The way Lando’s biceps shows off under his short-sleeved shirt makes his dick strain uncomfortable against his pants, and he breaks away from the sight heavy-heartedly to focus on his own training.

They come back to Lando’s apartment and after taking a shower Oscar sits down at the insanely large living room table with his laptop, waiting for Lando, who always takes a small eternity in the bathroom. It’s weird to know something like this about him. Who knows how long someone takes in the bathroom about other people?

When Lando finally emerges from his room, he walks into the kitchen, searching for something in the fridge. Oscar gets up and leans against the kitchen counter, while he sips on a glass of water.

“Should we get food from that one place we discovered last time I was here?” he asks, his gaze sliding over to the big window in front of the balcony overlooking the ocean.

Lando closes the fridge and turns around. “Actually, I thought I could cook something.”

Oscar looks at him like Lando just told him that he doesn’t believe the earth is a sphere. “You can cook?” he says, raising his brows sceptically.

Lando rolls his eyes at him. “Do you have no trust in my abilities? Last time you were here you didn’t believe that I could drive a normal car.”

“Sorry, sorry, you just never seize to surprise me, you know?” Oscar smirks at him and lays a hand on his hip to draw him a little closer. Lando lets him.

“To be fair, I’m going to cook one of the 3 things I can cook without making something explode in the kitchen, so you’re not too far off with your suspicions.”

“Oh, so you already thought about this ahead of time? This is not some idea that you just came up with during your excessively long shower?” Oscar says, teasing Lando without holding back. With amusement, he watches as Lando’s cheeks flush. He’s so obviously embarrassed about the fact that he planned on cooking for Oscar in advance, it’s incredibly adorable.

“Just shut up and let me cook,” Lando says and waves his hands as if to shoo him out of the kitchen. Oscar laughs and quickly lays a hand beneath Lando’s chin to pull him into a short kiss before he leaves, to let Lando turn the kitchen into a mess.

Lando cooks some sort of meat and vegetables. It’s meal plan approved and actually (surprisingly), it tastes quite good. Eating something at the table in Lando’s apartment that Lando cooked for him makes something in Oscar’s chest warm and glowing.

After dinner, they retreat to the living room to watch a movie. They start on opposite sides of the same couch, with half a metre of space between them, like they were teenagers on an awkward first date, until Lando shuffles a little closer and Oscar reaches his arm out, and Lando’s head ends up in Oscar’s lap and Oscar’s hand in Lando’s hair.

It’s all so oddly domestic, Oscar thinks while he strokes through Lando’s hair gently. They usually don’t do things like that when they see each other on race weekends, because they don’t have the time nor the comfort of a safe space like Lando’s apartment. It’s always just racing, media stuff, eating and then quickly catching up or scening or cuddling in some semi-comfortable hotel room bed before they go to sleep. They usually don’t get to be like this around each other.

Unfortunately, Oscar is about to jeopardize their peaceful state. There’s something he can’t stop thinking about that he needs to know. He clears his throat before he speaks.

“Was it okay for you what I did in Miami?” he asks carefully without retrieving his hand from Lando’s curls, trying to take the heaviness out of the question.

Lando doesn’t move, he remains completely still with his head in Oscar’s lap. “What do you mean? What did you do in Miami?”

Oscar draws little circles against Lando’s temple. “I mean... Thursday night. When I-” he doesn’t finish the sentence. Marked you, he thinks, like some stupid dom-cliché.

Lando’s head pushes back against Oscar’s hand, and he sits up, leaning his back against the couch right next to Oscar.

“Uhm.” He pulls at the fabric of his sweatpants nervously. “Yeah. It was very okay for me.”

Oscar breathes out audibly. “Okay,” he says, not fully convinced though. “I just- I thought about it again the past couple of days and I was kind of… scared that it was a bit too… possessive.”

Lando’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red. Oscar wants to stop him from fidgeting with his hands by catching his wrists. “Well. I mean, it was pretty possessive,” Lando says, looking down towards the floor and Oscar’s face falls a little. “But in a good way,” he adds quietly.

“Like, I really liked it. It made me feel- I don’t know, I think what you said about it taking my mind off of all the racing stuff really worked. Every time I was about to doubt myself my mind just automatically went to what you did and- I thought about the marks you left…” He pulls his knees up towards his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. He looks like a small cat, Oscar thinks.

“It just made me feel better immediately,” Lando says and looks up at Oscar next to him, searching for his gaze. “So, it was possessive, but I didn’t mind.”

Oscar doesn’t quite manage to meet his eyes.

“I was just scared that I crossed a line.”

Lando sighs a little next to him. “I think we should stop worrying so much about these ominous lines.”

Oscar presses the palms of his hands against his eyes. “I think we should worry way more about the lines.”

He feels Lando nudging against his thigh softly. “I think if I hear the word line one more time tonight, I’m going to freak out,” he answers with a cheeky smile on his lips.

Oscar chuckles quietly, but his face turns serious too quickly again for Lando’s liking.
“I’m just trying to be careful because I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he murmurs, raising his head but fixing his gaze on a point at the wall instead of Lando’s eyes.

“You’re not taking advantage.” Lando brings his hand closer to Oscar’s, which is now resting on the sofa next to him, quietly offering some comforting physical contact. Without looking at him, Oscar shuffles his hand on top of Lando’s, entwining their fingers.

“It’s almost funny how you don’t realize how good you are for me,” Lando whispers. After he visibly hesitates for a second, he lays a hand on top of Oscar's thigh, squeezing slightly. Oscar shivers at his words and the way Lando just puts his hand on his body. He looks down and watches Lando’s hand on his thigh, smiles, and pulls Lando in for a kiss.

 

- Monday -

Obviously, Oscar didn’t even bother to put his stuff in one of the guest bedrooms. His suitcase lies in the corner of the room in front of Lando’s walk-in closet.

They spend Monday morning sleeping in and then stay in bed way too long. As they are usually pretty busy with racing when they see each other, they both seem determined to make the most of their time together before they have to get on a plane to Italy on Wednesday. They have toast and eggs for breakfast, before they stumble back to the bed in a mess of kisses and tangled limbs.

It's already past noon when they get sick of spending the whole day inside and decide to go on a run together. Oscar forces Lando to put on sunscreen, who won’t stop complaining about how sticky it makes him, like a small child. Luckily, taking care of Lando like that is something Oscar enjoys.

They run almost 10 kilometres on the promenade next to the beach until they both need a break and sit down on a mural on one of the sidewalks with a view on the ocean.

They talk about the car and the Imola track, before they both fall silent and just watch the ocean together for a while. It’s peaceful.

Oscar can’t help but think about the many different versions they are with each other at the moment.
There’s the version they are when they are around their teams, at McLaren, or the media. There’s the version they are when they are together in a hotel room at a race weekend. There’s the version they are when they are in Monaco together, in the safety of Lando’s apartment, and with that weird domesticity they don’t have on race weekends. And now there’s also this version that they are in public together, where they could be watched by strangers at all times, but they still have that kind of intimacy because no one around them actually knows them personally. It’s different from when they are around the grid, where they know they are watched constantly. Where everybody could dissect every move, every look between them, that is a touch too intimate.

“Can I ask you something?” Lando says after a while and shakes Oscar out of his thoughts. Lando’s gaze is still set on the glistening Ocean in front of them.

“Sure.”

Lando doesn’t ask right away. He pauses, the grip on the mural beneath him tightening.

“What were your past relationships like?”

Oscar is so startled by this blunt question that he has to take a moment to wrap his head around the fact that Lando wants to know something from that part of his life.

“Like, I know you’ve dated that girl during F2 and the first year of your F1 career… What was her name again?” Lando flicks away a small leaf that landed on his shorts, but he doesn’t wait for Oscar to answer, as if it didn’t really interest him what her name was. As if he only asked to appear interested. “What was that relationship like? And have there been others?”

Oscar wants to say something teasing, like ask Lando why he is so interested in his past love life all of a sudden. Because he wants to hear that Lando is interested, because he wants to be part of that history as well. But he knows it will destroy their peaceful intimacy that they have at the moment, with Lando being so open and honest. So he doesn’t.

“Officially, there was just one other girl during high school,” he says and looks down on the sand, escaping the sunlight that’s reflected by the ocean and that’s starting to sting in his eyes. He pauses for a second, thinking about how open he wants to be, how much of the truth this conversation needs, or is able to endure.

“I guess they were pretty normal relationships in terms of… well, they were pretty normal for relationships you have at that age, I think.” He’s not sure if it makes sense what he says, but he feels Lando looking over towards the space in front of him, like he’s listening interestedly.

“In terms of the dynamics… I don’t know, I guess it never felt quite right for me before.”

When he realizes that he says ‘before’ as if the now means him and Lando, he holds his breath for a second, wondering whether Lando will pick up on it. But Lando doesn’t even seem to notice.

“What do you mean?” he asks instead. “I never had a dynamic relationship, so I don’t really have a lot of experience to speak from.”

Oscar thinks about it for a second.

“I am just not the biggest fan of like- classic dynamic relationships, I guess.” He pauses again, tries to find a way to explain what he means to Lando, who’s looking at him questioningly.

“Like, I don’t want to tell somebody what to do, or what not to do, or how to live their life like most doms still do, even in the 21st century. But I think that’s what my past girlfriends always kind of expected. It was almost like they wanted me to take control of their life. Which I think is unhealthy in the first place, but then it’s also something I can’t really give you, you know? Like, I’m rarely home during the season, and I don’t want to drag along my sub everywhere I’m going like some kind of dog. I’ve watched some other drivers do that with their girlfriends and I think it’s horrible to be honest.”

He pauses shortly, gathering his thoughts. “Of course, everyone should just be able to do what works best for them, and if that’s the kind of relationship people want to have then I’m happy for them. But I just don’t get how these women apparently have so little interest in their own life that they are happy to just always stay besides their doms and smile and never say a word and-” he stops himself. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Lando smiles at him from the side, small but honest, and Oscar can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks with the relentless Monaco afternoon sun on his face. “A little maybe, but I want to hear it.”

Oscar looks back at the ocean.

“For me, that’s just not an option for my life. Even if I wanted that kind of control over somebody else – which I don’t – I wouldn’t want to have a relationship like that. It’s not how I would want to live my life.”

Lando seems to think about it for a moment.

“Did you notice that you are practically tagging somebody along literally everywhere you go at the moment?” he says with a small chuckle.

Oscar laughs quietly and brushes his hand over Lando’s, subtly, in a way that would seem accidental from the outside.

“Whatever. There’s just a lot about modern-day dynamic relationships that I don’t get. I mean, we have evolved somewhat as a society when it comes to how we treat subs, but there are still so many doms out there who behave like absolute idiots. They are horrible towards their subs, and it seems like nobody cares enough to do something about it. Like, it just happens, and nobody speaks up about it or even tries to change something, and it makes me so angry sometimes. But then I’m not doing anything about it either, so who am I to talk.”

Lando looks at him, their eyes locking.

“I wouldn’t say you’re not doing anything. You’re not one of them at least, that’s already something from my point of view.”

Oscar sighs. “I don’t know. I might say all of this sophisticated stuff right now, but in my past relationships… in the end I probably did most of the stupid dom stuff because it kind of felt like my partners expected me to do it, even though it never felt quite right, you know?”

Lando thinks about it for a while before he nods.

“It’s similar for me I think, but like the other way around. With doms I’ve seen more regularly- it felt like they expected me to leave my personality at home. Like they wanted me to be this lifeless, characterless thing that they could just- I don’t know, muscle into submission. And whenever you’re not perfectly what they are looking for they just… drop you or whatever.”

So there have been other people than Daniel, Oscar thinks. He wants to ask about exactly what Lando has experienced, but he feels Lando already getting a bit defensive towards the topic, so he drops the thought.

When he realizes Lando doesn’t plan to elaborate more, he picks up the thread of conversation again.

“Of course, you can’t deny that there are instincts that make you want and need specific things. And I’d be lying if I said I never felt the need to- well- do typical, cliche, mindless dom-things.”

“Like when you marked me?” Lando cuts in, unable to suppress a cheeky, teasing grin. “But you only did that for me, right? To help me calm my mind.” He nudges Oscar with his elbow playfully.

Oscar squeezes his eyes shut and pinches his knows. “Don’t remind me. That was a weak moment.”

Lando laughs at Oscar’s ashamed demeanour, and Oscar laughs a little as well. But the light moment passes, and Lando gets serious again.

“But it’s the same for subs,” he says. “I don’t want to abandon my personality for any dom if I can help it, but I also have... instincts.” He lets his hand stroke over Oscar’s outer thigh absentmindedly, and it makes Oscar’s heart beat faster that that is just something he does now, touching Oscar when he feels like it.

“And until now it always felt good when you do cliché dom stuff.”

Oscar chuckles. “Don’t give me ideas,” he says, without thinking about it.

Lando looks at him with that mischievous shimmer in his eyes. “Why not?”

Oscar notices what he did there. And struggles for an answer, before it just blurts out of him.

“Because I already feel like I want to claim you. I already want to shove everyone away who comes a little too close to you. And that happens, like, a lot.” It’s silent for a moment, the words hanging a little heavy in the air between them.

“Really?” Lando says, his voice softer and quieter than before. Oscar’s heart clenches a little.

“Yes, you little menace. Especially all of those doms who are not aware that they constantly use their dom voice against you, who don’t know the effect it has on you. That literally drives me crazy with jealousy, and I hate myself for it.” He feels stupid immediately about the way he just admitted that.

“I didn’t know you’ve noticed that.” Lando says.

“Of course I’ve noticed,” Oscar mumbles. He tries to ignore the embarrassment about admitting that he watches Lando closely enough when they’re on the grid or at the McLaren HQ to notice something like that.

Lando turns his head to look at him, and Oscar sees the corners of his mouth curling up a little. “That’s kind of cute,” he says, and Oscar doesn’t know what to say about that. He just prays that his face is still heated from their run and doesn’t show his embarrassment too obviously.

“Wanna head back home?” he asks instead, and Lando nods.

They half run, half walk back towards the apartment complex.

When they arrive back in Lando’s apartment, Oscar showers in the guest bathroom again.

He kind of wants to ask Lando if they want to shower together, but he feels Lando being a little distant and decides to give him some space instead. It works wonders, because only minutes after he hears the shower turn off in Lando’s room, Lando comes out of the room and drops down on the couch next to Oscar, a lot closer than necessary. Oscar takes it as a good sign and lays a hand on Lando’s thigh with just a little bit of pressure, not minding the thoughts in the back of his head that tell him he’s being too possessive again.

They scroll through their phones for a while. Oscar pulls his hand away from Lando’s thigh just once, but the obvious irritated and displeased look on Lando’s face makes him put it back after just seconds, and he tries to make it look as casual as possible.

All of a sudden, Lando puts his phone down on the couch next to him a bit too forcefully and stares down at Oscar’s hand on his thigh.

“I have another question,” he says, his voice cutting through the silence. Oscar puts down his phone on the table. “Okay, what is it?” he responds, stroking over Lando’s arm softly. Lando seems to brace himself.

“Remember what you asked me on the phone before Miami?”

Oscar stops stroking his arm and looks up at him. “What exactly do you mean?” he asks, his voice steady and purposefully unagitated.

He knows what Lando means.  

He watches as Lando’s jaw tightens a bit. “Am I allowed to get myself off or not?”

Once again, Oscar curses himself for not being a better person, a better dom. For not taking care of things the way he should, for saying something mindless like that in the head of the moment, without anticipating how much stuff like that would get into Lando’s head. He forces himself to turn his position on the couch to face Lando.

“Baby,” he says, because he just can’t help it. He wants to say that Lando is not allowed to touch himself without permission, that he wants Lando to wait for him to touch him, that his orgasms belong to Oscar now. But he can’t say that.

“Of course you are,” he says instead, and it feels wrong. “I am not in a position to demand that from you.”

Lando watches him with narrowed eyes as Oscar runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I should’ve made that clear when I said that on the phone. Like, I should’ve told you that I am not expecting that. I’m sorry, sometimes I just forget- I mean, sometimes I’m just a little thoughtless.”

Lando almost rolls his eyes at him. “Don’t you dare start talking about lines again.”

Oscar’s mouth turns into a soft smile. He can’t hold himself back. He pulls Lando into his lap, who gasps in surprise. He places his hands on the small of his back, pulls him closer and starts kissing him. It’s soft and passionate, not hungry and messy like the day before. Lando lays his hand on his shoulders, carefully at first, but steadier with time.

Oscar notices how Lando loosens and starts to turn all hazy. “Can we move this to my bedroom?” he asks, quietly and Oscar nods.

Oscar sits down on the edge of the bed and pulls Lando back into his lap, their lips meeting again.

Softly, as if waiting for Oscar to permit it, Lando pushes against his shoulders, indicating that he wants Oscar to fall back on the couch. Oscar happily lets Lando push him back and he can’t keep his heart from fluttering as Lando climbs on top of him and starts kissing him carefully.

“Is that okay?” he asks, and his voice sounds so small. Oscar lays a hand on his waist. “Of course, baby,” he whispers. Lando smiles at him gleefully and kisses him again. He sits directly on top of Oscars dick, and Oscar could swear that he is pressing down his hips a little more than necessary. His dick starts hardening slowly and Lando’s careful kisses combined with the pressure of his hips almost makes him moan. Lando moves on to press kisses on Oscar’s shoulder where he can reach it despite the collar of his shirt, and Oscar shivers at his soft and careful lips on his skin.

“Remember how you said that I am allowed to want things?” Lando whispers against his neck. Oscar has a feeling that he is intentionally hiding his face from him, but he decides to let it go.

“Yes, very much.” He puts his hand just above Lando’s ass on his back, pulling him closer softly. „Do you want something specific right now?”

He feels Lando nodding against his skin.

“Ask for it,” he says, stroking up Lando’s back until he reaches his neck, squeezing lightly.

Lando nudges his shoulder with his nose before he speaks. “I want you to-”

Oscar feels his warm breath against his neck as Lando takes a moment before he continues.
“I want you inside me,” he whispers. Oscar can’t prevent a gasp from escaping his mouth.

“God Lando,” he says, his dick pressing painfully against his pants. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Lando says and bites into his neck very softly. “Please.”

Oscar was already wrecked at Lando’s question, but his quiet and wanting ‘please’ throws him completely off the ground.

“How am I supposed to say no to you when you ask so sweet and polite?” he whispers, nibbling at his ear. Lando’s response is a small whimper that makes Oscar feel all sorts of different things.

He puts his hand around Lando’s waist, intertwines their legs, and with a strong jolt, he turns them around so that Lando lies beneath him now and has no place to hide his face anymore. He looks gorgeous, Oscar thinks briefly, with his cheeks flushed and his eyes glossy, biting his lip in embarrassment at his eagerness.

“You’re so beautiful,” Oscar whispers, unable to keep it to himself. He doesn’t wait for an answer, he just presses his lips to Lando’s, hungry and messy.

“Please, Oscar,” Lando whines as Oscar parts their lips for a moment. “Please, I want you to fuck me.”

For a second, Oscar thinks he will come right then and there from Lando’s words alone. He has to gather all his strength to not just put his hand on his own dick and jerk off on top of Lando again.

“Be patient, you little menace,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to Lando’s lips, but starts to open Lando’s jeans at the same time.

He strokes over Lando’s dick in a way that could be unintentional but is totally intentional, and shivers at Lando’s quiet moan.

He pulls off his pants and his boxer briefs, and kisses Lando’s abdomen and the area around his dick until Lando interrupts him.

“Oscar, I swear to god if you don’t put something inside me right now, I will push you away and do it myself.”

Oscar can’t resist a chuckle. “You wouldn’t dare,” he says, but obeys, nonetheless. “Lube?” he asks, and Lando waves his hand towards the nightstand. “Top Drawer,” he says, his voice hoarse. Oscar raises a brow at him as he reaches out to get it. “I hope you didn’t use that with somebody else lately, and that’s the reason why you store it at such an accessible position?” Lando scoffs at him. “Sure, I have a ton of doms coming in and out all days of the week,” he murmurs. Meanwhile, Oscar managed to snatch the lube from the nightstand and open the cap of the bottle. “Careful,” he says, and tries to make it sound playful and teasing as hard as he can, but he can’t help the little sting in his heart. He never took himself for the jealous type before things started with Lando, especially not because of such nonsense. Just as he is about to squeeze lube on his finger, Lando reaches out his hand and lays it softly on his arm. “You know there’s no one but you,” he whispers, and it settles something inside Oscar. “Good,” he says, unable to say more, and continues to lube up his finger.

He pushes Lando’s legs up and spreads them open.

He strokes over Lando’s balls softly and over the area beneath, which makes Lando tremble, and then finally rests his finger against his hole.

Oscar pushes one finger inside him slowly and watches entranced as Lando throws his head back into the pillows. His lips quiver slightly, and he moves his hips to push down further on his finger.

“Baby, you need to be a little patient. I have to stretch you open.”

“I don’t need to be stretched,” Lando cries out and continues to push his hips down.

Oscar gets the idea that he could just tie Lando down to the bed, every limb in one corner, until he can’t move an inch, and Oscar could take his time with him, enjoying all the needy whines and moans to the fullest.

In the spur of the moment, he lets his hand fall down on Lando’s ass. It’s light and affectionate, but it still doesn’t miss its purpose. Lando gasps and his eyes widen. Oscar watches his dick twitch up and it makes something flicker inside him.

“Yes, you do,” he says, his voice firm and final. “And now stop whining or I’ll give you nothing and you have to go to bed all empty and needy.”

Lando’s whines at Oscar’s words are everything. Not that Oscar could actually follow through with that, with how hard is dick is against his pants by now.

Lando only manages to stay quiet for the first couple of moments as Oscar moves his finger inside of him. Oscar tells him to be patient again, and he really intends to take his time with it, to make sure Lando is well stretched and won’t be hurting when he puts his dick inside him. But Lando begs him so prettily to move on and give him more that Oscar just can’t resist and puts a second finger inside him soon.

He can’t keep his eyes off Lando’s face, watches in fascination as Lando bites his lip in conflict between pain and pleasure and embarrassment while Oscar scissors his fingers inside him, stretching him. Oscar wonders if he will ever be able to let go completely, abandon his act of trying to play it cool and give in to his sub instincts fully, just enjoying the things Oscar could do to him.

“More,” Lando whispers after a while and Oscar obeys and puts a third finger inside him.

When he’s satisfied with the way he stretched Lando and the unsatisfied cries from Lando’s lips become unbearable, he pulls out his fingers and takes of his t-shirt. “Do you have a condom?” he asks while he’s getting out of his pants.

Lando looks at him with an uninterpretable look on his face. “Are you fucking other desperate subs as well?” Lando asks, his words aggressive but his voice soft and breathless. Oscar huffs. “That’s such a stupid thing to say, I’m not going to answer that.” Lando rolls his eyes at him. “Condom?” Oscar asks again, sharpening his voice, pressing a hand into Lando’s hips. Lando shuffles up on the bed towards his nightstand and searches through the drawer until he finds a condom. Oscar expects him to say something impudent, but he’s just handed the package with a little resentful look on Lando’s face.

Oscar gets out of his boxers and lazily strokes his almost fully hard cock, looking down on Lando laying there, squirming while he’s waiting for Oscar to fuck him. It only takes a couple of seconds until Oscar is fully hard and rolls the condom down in his dick.

He props himself up on his arms over Lando. If he were to do whatever he wanted right now, he would take Lando from behind, but for the first time, it wouldn’t feel right. He wants to watch Lando’s face when he buries his cock inside him.

“Ready?” he whispers, after pressing a kiss to Lando’s lips.

“I was born ready,” Lando jokes, the playful tone in his voice not matching the red of his cheeks and the glimmer in his eyes.

Oscar rolls his eyes. “You’re so annoying,” he says, and starts pushing in.

He feels Lando clenching around him as soon as he’s in with more than the tip. A small whimper escapes him, his eyes squeezing shut, and a little wrinkle appearing on his forehead. “You okay?” Oscar asks. He prepares himself for a sarcastic response, but Lando just nods. “Please keep going,” he says, and Oscar shivers. He pushes in fully and can’t keep himself from moaning softly. He watches as Lando’s lips curl into a smile at that.

“You having fun?” Oscar says, his voice rough as he’s still trying to cope with the feeling of being inside Lando Norris. Lando chuckles between quick coming breaths. Oscar lowers himself against Lando’s body and bites into his neck. Lando’s small whimper makes his heart beat a little bit faster. “Have to make it fun for both of us, don’t you think?” he says, and starts twisting and squeezing Lando’s right nipple. Lando whines and reaches his hand out to swat Oscar’s hand away. Oscar feels his dom instincts wake up.

“Hands above your head,” he says, his voice surprisingly steady and deep for the situation he’s currently in. “I don’t want to pull out to tie you up, just because you can’t be a good boy and keep your hands to yourself.” Something in the back of his mind tells him he’s overstepping some crooked line again, but Lando’s desperate moan tells him otherwise. Lando obeys and puts his hands above his head, gripping the headboard to steady himself.

“Can I trust you to be a good boy now?” Oscar says. He watches Lando’s lips quiver at his words. “Yes, I’ll be good- I’m sorry, Oscar.”

Oscar hums in satisfaction and twists Lando’s nipples again a little, just to pull another desperate moan out of his mouth.

Then he starts moving. He’s slow and careful at first, but as soon as he's sure that Lando enjoys it as well, he starts picking up the pace. Watching Lando’s face contort in pleasure does so much to him. He starts thrusting in deep, and his heart flips when Lando throws his head to the side, mouth a little open, as he hits his prostate. He watches as Lando’s hands curl around the headboard, desperately trying to be good for Oscar. He wraps a hand around Lando’s dick and starts stroking. The room is filled with a mix of their heavy breathing and quiet moans.
When Oscar comes, and his focus shifts to making Lando come as well, his chest fills with something he can’t describe. A sense of deep, pure satisfaction.

Lando comes with a soft moan on his lips, and Oscar lets himself drop down on top of him. He buries his nose in Lando’s neck and presses soft kisses on his warm skin. He briefly wishes they wouldn’t have to go racing on the weekend, and could just spend the rest of their lives exactly like this.

 

 

- Saturday -

It’s obvious that Lando is disappointed after only managing P4 in Qualifying.

Even though he tries to keep up his quirky-Lando-attitude for the media, Oscar notices that he’s upset with himself from the way he walks around the garage. Before Oscar retreats to his driver’s room to get ready to leave the grid, he walks up towards Lando, who’s still lingering around in the garage, and sneaks an obtrusive hand on his lower back. He feels Lando leaning into the touch just slightly. “I’ll wait for you in the Motorhome,” he says, his voice low, for only Lando to hear. He expects him to tell him that he doesn’t want him to wait, but to his delighted surprise, Lando nods, and meets his eyes for a second.

They drive back to the hotel together and go straight to Lando’s room, which they have settled on occupying for the weekend. Oscar hasn’t even entered his own room once. They don’t talk much on the way back, but Oscar keeps brushing his hand over Lando’s arm in an unobserved moment or rests it against the side of Lando’s thigh in the taxi, and puts it on the small of Lando’s back on their way from the elevator to their room.

They order room service and don’t do much after dinner, as the sun is already setting behind the panorama window of the room.

When they go to bed, Oscar pushes Lando down onto the mattress gently and kisses his way up his neck towards his mouth, where he stays for what feels like a small eternity. He savours Lando’s softness, how willingly he opens his mouth for Oscar, how he lets Oscar take care of him. He shivers when Lando wraps his hands around his back, stroking softly under Oscar’s t-shirt. After what feels like an eternity of kissing and caressing each other, Oscar lets himself drop onto the mattress next to Lando and turns him around by his shoulders so he can spoon him. He presses his chest against Lando’s back and wraps his arm around him, pulling him closer. He feels Lando pressing into him softly and breathes in the smell of his freshly washed hair.

“Lando,” Oscar starts hesitantly after a while. “Hm?” Lando all but hums back at him, not moving an inch away from Oscar's body embracing him. “There’s something I have been thinking about for a while.” Slowly, Oscar strokes over his chest. “What?” Lando asks sleepily. “What exactly happened with Daniel?”

He can feel Lando immediately tensing in his arms and curses himself for breaking the small moment of peace they had found after the hell of a day behind them.

“You always say that he was your only long-term situationship. And after what we talked about last week…”  He hesitates for a second. “And you always seem kind of tense when you talk about your relationship. Not that you have talked about it that much, but it always seems like something bothers you when you mention him.”

It’s silent after that, but Oscar cares too much about not making it worse to push the issue further.

“Is it okay if I don’t want to talk about it?” Lando says, his tone so careful, as if he were about to step onto a minefield.

Oscar closes his eyes. If he were honest right now, he would tell Lando that this was so not okay for him, it was anything but okay. He needed to know what the hell Daniel had done with him after everything Lando had told him over the past days. He was almost sure that the situation with Daniel didn’t end on good terms. But he knew that if he pressed the issue now, there was a chance Lando would never trust him again, would never feel comfortable enough around him to tell him about his feelings. After all he had learned the past couple of months about how hard it was for Lando to open up, especially about his dynamic needs and his past. So, once again, he doesn’t say what he wants to say.

“Yeah, of course.”

He feels Lando relaxing again. After a while of just lying there, Lando raises his voice again. “I’m not saying that I won’t ever talk about it. I just- not today, okay?” He strokes over Oscar's arm which is still wrapped around him. “I feel like it was already too much for me today, I don’t want to go down that road as well.”

Oscar wants to scream, but instead he just raises his head to press a kiss on Lando’s neck. “I understand. It’s okay, baby. I appreciate that you’re honest about it.” Lando presses into him, and they fall asleep wrapped around each other.

Notes:

Oh god, this took me so long to write, but I think I actually like how it turned out???? But then it’s just smut and a lot of talking, nothing groundbreaking haha.
No idea what got into them, talking about their feelings doesn’t seem like them.
Anyways, I would love to hear what you think, so feel free to leave a comment even if it's short <3

(Also, am I the only one who gets sick of the lines? 😂)

Chapter 11: Imola 2025 - Appendix

Notes:

I'm just gonna leave this here and then I will probably add this to the main Italy Chapter later :)

- Sunday -

Lando’s mood lifts greatly when he drives over the finish line on Sunday afternoon.

He briefly worries that Oscar will be mad at him for overtaking him at practically the last minute. But when they congratulate each other after the race and Oscar pulls him in to whisper a quick ‘good job’ into his ear and lays his hand on his back just a touch to long, relief washes over him. He spends the podium relaxed and happy, smothering Oscar in champagne.

When he’s finally free from media duty after the press conference, Lando heads straight from the track to Oscar’s driver’s room. He doesn’t bother to get out of his racing suit, and he’s still sticky with champagne. He just wants, no, needs to see Oscar right now before he leaves the track to go home.

When Oscar finally arrives, he stops in the doorway, startled to see Lando in his room.

Lando looks at him, and then at the door, indicating for him to close it behind him. Oscar turns around to do as Lando asked and looks at Lando questioningly when he turns back around. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Lando shoves him back against the door, even if it’s not with as much force as he would like to. He’s still getting used to taking what he wants and still feels a little bit uncomfortable expressing his needs. He grabs the zip of Oscar’s racing suit and pulls it down in one swift motion. He looks into Oscar’s face, looks at how his eyes darken, his mouth slightly open, wanting. Silent permission for Lando to follow through.

Then he drops to his knees, and without further hesitation, takes Oscar’s dick into his mouth. His ears ring as Oscar’s head falls back against the wall with a dull noise, and an unrestrained moan escapes his mouth. Lando takes it as encouragement and starts moving his head up and down Oscar’s cock. It's quick and messy, and Oscar comes within minutes. Lando swallows and takes his time afterwards, pressing kisses to Oscar’s abdomen and his thighs.

He gets up from his knees, wipes his mouth with his sleeve once, and locks eyes with Oscar. Oscar fists into his racing suit and pulls him close, uniting their mouths in a messy, aggressive, passionate kiss.

Softly, Lando pushes himself away from Oscar by gripping his shoulders. “I’ll see you in Monaco,” he whispers. He kisses Oscar one last time, then he escapes through the door, not without checking if anybody sees him leaving Oscar’s room.

Chapter 12: Monaco 2025

Notes:

Oh god Monaco caused me a headache.

I obviously wrote most of this chapter before the weekend and to be honest, I didn’t expect Lando would manage a P1 in qualifying, and then he even ended up winning the race, and all of that did so not align with my plan. I kind of had to adapt the story a bit, because I didn’t want to change the podium, and it’s not optimal if you ask me, but I guess we just have to live with it. I’m obviously happy for Lando, but story-wise I was a little mad ever since yesterday :’D. Also, I’m currently still on the way home from vacation and due to a lack of internet couldn’t even watch the race, which was torture, so I feel very detached currently. Okay, I’m gonna stop whining now 😂

One quick notice: I don’t want to spoil anything, but I have and will continue to update the tags a little bit in advance of the next couple of chapters, so you might want to check that again if there’s anything you know you’re uncomfortable with, especially around sexual activities :) I personally think it’s nothing majorly crazy, especially considering this is still D/S AU, but I know boundaries are different for everyone, so maybe just take a look.

- Wednesday –

Oscar arrives back in Monaco on Wednesday night, and Lando picks him up from the airport as usual. Oscar is happy to see him, to throw his arms around him again. He doesn’t really know how to feel about the fact that he’s longing to be in Lando’s presence again, even though it’s only been three days without each other. But he does what he does best by now and just ignores the thought.

When he reaches Lando, he notices it immediately. There’s something in the way Lando is just a little too tense when they greet each other in the parking lot, which indicates that something is amiss.

In the car, Lando talks a lot, like he usually does. But the problem is that the Lando that is talking just a bit too much is his public-safe-self, not the Lando Oscar gets to see when it’s just the two of them. And Oscar’s head starts spinning immediately.

He spends the whole way from the airport to Lando’s apartment trying to calm himself down, telling himself that it’s probably just the pressure with the season picking up pace now. And because this weekend – it’s Monaco, and Monaco is special.

But something inside him tells him that it’s not just that. That there is more. That there is something that has been brewing inside Lando for a while, and that is just waiting to explode.

They go to bed a little bit quieter than usual. They don’t talk much. Oscar just pushes his suitcase into the walk-in closet, they brush their teeth, and then lay down in bed, with an awkward distance between them, until Oscar can’t bear it anymore, and turns around to pull Lando closer and spoon him, and Lando moans quietly, which makes Oscar's heart swell. Maybe it’s nothing, he tells himself. Maybe it really is just the pressure of the weekend ahead. But it still takes him a while before he manages to fall asleep.

 

- Thursday -

Thursday is a lot.

Oscar wakes up with Lando combing through his hair, an illegible look on his face. It makes him equally happy as it rattles him. They exchange sleepy kisses while Oscar lets his hands roam over Lando’s body which is still relaxed and easy from sleeping, not yet strung up and tight from pre-race anxiousness.

While they roam around the kitchen to make breakfast, Oscar can feel the tension build back up in Lando’s body. He’s unusually quiet and way to focused on frying his eggs. Osca briefly tries to distract him somehow, but Lando doesn’t really respond to his snarky comments about his British breakfast or about the way he hasn’t fixed his hair yet and still looks a little ruffled from sleep (which is actually how Oscar prefers it, raw and soft). He doesn’t even react when Oscar slips his hands around his waist from the back and presses a kiss to his neck. He just hums and focuses further on putting his breakfast together. Oscar gives up, and he decides that Lando just needs some time to relax.

After breakfast, they drive to the track together and walk to the McLaren motorhome.

They already told everyone that Oscar would spend the weekend over at Lando’s apartment, ‘to not have to stay in a hotel room for once,’ so they wouldn’t have to face stupid questions all weekend about how they always arrive and leave together. It made everyone at McLaren happy that they were ‘such a good team’, which Oscar finds funny in a very ironic way.

They settle their stuff in the motorhome and film a bunch of stuff for social media before they attend the press conference. Oscar spends the day watching Lando as unobtrusively as possible and he relaxes a bit when he sees how the distraction of race week chaos seems to be actually good for him. As he focuses on discussing the car and the tires, he relaxes visibly. It seems to take his mind of what he’s worried about. Oscar has to force himself to stop watching Lando as if he was his kindergarten teacher and Lando a kid in near a swimming pool and focus on his own job.

At some point Oscar walks over to the motorhome from the garage shortly after Lando and watches him from behind. The way Lando continues to look around him startles him. It almost looks like he’s searching for something, or someone, or like he’s scared that he’s being watched, which is a weird thing to be scared of as an F1 driver on race week.

Lando disappears to his driver’s room before Oscar can catch up with him. He thinks about asking him later, when they lay side by side in Lando’s bed, but the way Lando is snuggled up against him makes him too happy and sleepy to destroy the moment with his stupid questions.

 

- Friday -

Lando’s weird mood doesn’t change coming into Friday. He walks around the paddock strung up and anxious, and Oscar is scared more than once that he will just lash out on one of his engineers talking him through race strategy. He can’t keep himself from looking over to him with an observing eye every other minute.

Practice 1 and 2 passes without any major incident or surprise. Lando seems to relax a little bit in between, the usual business of a race weekend keeping his mind occupied. Still, Oscar has a hard time with keeping his hands to himself and not put them on Lando in an attempt to calm him whenever they pass each other in the garage.

When Oscar crosses the corner to the McLaren Motorhome after he returns from the garage after FP2, he has a dejavu.

In front of the entrance stands Lando, talking with Daniel Ricciardo. Oscar stops in his tracks, watching them. They stand eye to eye to each other, a weird amount of distance keeping them apart. Something twists in Oscar’s stomach thinking back about how he saw the two of them talking before the Japanese grand prix and the thoughts that crossed his mind back then. How he was scared that Lando might go back to Daniel to deal with his dynamic shit. The thought crosses his mind now as well, with how tense Lando has been the past couple of days, but he doesn’t want to let it get to him. He tries to think about how Lando assured him that he wouldn’t go back to Daniel instead.

Oscar watches how Daniel takes a step forward, and Lando flinches back uncomfortably.

Something about the scene doesn’t sit right with Oscar. Slowly, trying to check the vibe and whether he’s welcome to the conversation, he walks towards them. As he gets closer, he spots that tense face he had seen Lando carry around on so many occasions the past months. He doesn’t look comfortable at all. Oscar puts all his confidence together and shoves the thoughts about whether he might be intruding in something to the back of his mind. The possessiveness caused by his dom instincts gets the better of him in the end. He doesn’t want Daniel and Lando talking without him.

When Daniel and Lando notice him approaching they stop talking and look at him with an uninterpretable look on their faces. For a second, Oscar thinks to see something helpless, vulnerable flicker in Lando’s eyes. Something that is happy to see him.

“Hey, Daniel,” he says, desperately trying to sound as casual as possible. “I didn’t know you would be here today,” Oscar adds. Daniel looks at him with something that looks like a very forced smile when he greets him, and they briefly shake hands. “Yeah, thought I’d stop by as I live in Monaco,” he says casually. Lando doesn’t say anything. “I’m with red bull, but I thought I would stop by McLaren to visit some old friends.”

The way he says ‘friends’ makes something in Oscar’s chest uncomfortable. He sneaks a look at Lando who doesn’t look too excited about Daniels visit. “Well, we should go inside then,” Oscar suggests in an attempt to clear the tension in the air. Daniel nods, smiles his fake-smile, and heads towards the entrance of the motorhome, where he is happily greeted by some McLaren hospitality people, who are apparently a lot mor excited to see him than Oscar is.

Oscar follows him, until he notices that Lando hasn’t moved yet. He turns around to look at him, trying to meet his gaze, but Lando looks at some point in the distance. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, careful that it’s not too loud. It seems to shake Lando out of his thoughts. “Oh, yeah sure. I was just thinking about Qualifying.”

Lando starts making his way to the entrance. When he passes Oscar, he puts a hand on his hip, as unobtrusive as possible. He might be imagining it, but he briefly thinks that Lando flinches a little at the contact. “Do you want me to come with you to your room for a second?” he asks.

Lando looks at him with his media-happy-Lando-face and it hurts Oscar a little bit to be shut out of his thoughts like that. “I’m good, thanks,” Lando says tersely. “We will head home soon anyways, right?” Oscar clings himself to the word home out of Lando’s mouth. He takes his hand away from Lando’s hips. “Sure,” he says. I just need to change and then I’m ready.” Lando nods. They enter the motorhome, where a little crowd formed around Daniel, who looks at them with a weird look on his face as they enter.

They get in the car soon afterwards and drive back to Lando’s apartment. Lando doesn’t say a single word the whole drive. Oscar anxiously watches Lando’s tight grip on the steering wheel, the skin on his knuckles turning white.

He looks over to study his face, but notices how Lando starts shifting in his seat, how it makes him uncomfortable being watched and looks out the window instead, scared that it will only make things worse if he starts interrogating.

They both shower and throw together a meal-plan approved dinner, before Lando flops down on the couch. Lando hasn’t really warmed up since they’ve come back to his apartment. He seems caught up in his own head. Oscar figures it might be best to just give him time, so he sits down on the couch next to him in a cautious distance.

They put on a movie and watch in silence for an hour before suddenly, Lando raises his voice over the shooting that is going on on-screen.

“Want to fuck me?” he says, and the dullness in his voice mixed with his choice of words makes Oscar flinch for a second.

“What?” he says, perplex about the straight-forward frankness of Lando’s question.

Lando is silent for a second. Then he sighs quietly and crawls closer over the couch until he sits right next to Oscar. He plants a hand on Oscar’s thigh, within an inch of his dick and applies subtle pressure. “Oscar, do you want to fuck me?” he says and then adds a softer “please,” at the end.

Oscar takes a deep breath and looks at him with in a mix of confusion and pity. He hates that he has to say no. “No chance, sorry baby. Not that close to a race, and you have to drive Qualifying tomorrow.”

Lando looks up at the ceiling with an uninterpretable look on his face. When he speaks, the dullness from earlier is back in his voice. “I don’t care about the race.” By now Oscar is so confused that he doesn’t know what to say right away. He settles on pushing Lando down on his back on the couch instead. He leans over him and buries his mouth in the curve of Lando’s neck. “Don’t say that,” he says after Lando uttered a satisfying gasp. “It’s Monaco. You love Monaco. Of course you care.” When he looks back at him Lando just shrugs.

Oscar buries his tongue in Lando’s mouth, relishing in how pliant Lando’s lips get after a moment.

“Sure, you don’t want to get your dick inside me?” Lando asks insurgently, playing seductive by looking deep into Oscar’s eyes. Oscar affectionately slaps his outer thigh and Lando whines, pushing his hips up suggestively. “Stop whining, you will thank me for being the responsible one tomorrow.”

Oscar tugs at Lando’s shirt until Lando lifts his upper body up from the couch and he can get rid of it. He pushes Lando back down on the couch and kisses his way along his collarbone.

“But I can try to do something else to make you feel good?” he asks, biting into Lando’s neck fondly.

Lando whimpers softly. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He hears Lando letting out a deep breath and presses a kiss over where he can see subtle imprints of his teeth on Lando’s neck. The sight makes something in him burn deliciously.

“Okay.”

Oscar smiles and starts kissing Lando while he presses his hips down on Lando’s dick. Lando gasps into the kiss and Oscar swallows it hungrily. The way he feels the walls Lando built up over the past two days fall slowly as he kisses him extensively makes him eager to make Lando fall apart.

He kisses his way down to the waistband of his joggers and pulls them down. He takes his time layering kisses around and on Lando’s cock, relishing in the soft moans that escape Lando’s mouth. He cups his balls and starts sucking Lando relentlessly, until he comes with a soft cry on his lips, hands fisted in the sheets below him.

It takes Lando a minute before he’s back with him. Oscar watches him, how he lays there with his eyes closes, a peaceful expression on his face, nothing indicating how anxious he’s been throughout the past days.

“Can you come in my mouth as well?” he asks after a while, eyes still closed and his voice sounds small. Oscar can’t hold back a small moan. “I’d be happy to,” he says, and gives Lando a smug smile. Lando returns a tired one. “Get on your knees,” Oscar commands, happy to take control, and Lando obeys. He slides down from the couch and settles between Oscars knees.

Lando starts sucking him off right away and without much fuss. He takes him into his mouth fully immediately and starts moving his head up and down quickly. And even though it feels amazing, watching Lando taking his cock so eagerly, desperate to please him and to make him come, something about it doesn’t feel quite right. When he doesn’t even stop as he’s choking around Oscar’s cock, it almost seems like he wants it to hurt, like he wants to feel the pain he’s causing himself.

“Lan, easy,” Oscar breaths out, his arousal almost keeping him from speaking. Lando doesn’t listen though, he keeps moving his head aggressively up and down on Oscar’s cock, not even stopping as it hits the back of his throat again and again and Oscar can hear him choking. The heat building in his stomach almost doesn’t let him, but he manages to get a hand in Lando’s curls to keep him from hurting himself. “I said easy,” he says, and tries to sound commanding but he knows it’s just a useless attempt.

Lando lets his cock slip out of his mouth. “Don’t want easy right now,” he says with a bitter tone in his voice. He lowers his head back on Oscar’s dick. Oscar wants to shake him, do something somehow to get him out of this headspace. But Lando seems like he’s not in the mood to listen to what Oscar thinks about the way he acts, and Oscar is not in the mood for a fight. So he softens the grip in Lando’s hair and lets him have it his way. He doesn’t last long anyway, with the way Lando takes him whole again and again, relentless. He comes with a breath stuck in his throat, and watches as Lando swallows his cum almost greedily, his eyes closed.

 

- Saturday -

When they wake up on Saturday morning, Oscar notices how much Lando tries to get himself together. He carries himself differently, and it’s obvious how he tries to make his usual Lando kind of jokes and act as if nothing was wrong.

After qualifying, it’s like a new dawn after a storm.

Lando can finally smile again, honestly smile, and Oscar breaths freely for the first time this weekend. His heart speeds up a little during Lando’s post Qualifying interview, when he hears how happy Lando sounds.

They make their way together to the McLaren motorhome after the press conference. Oscar thinks he hasn’t seen Lando this carefree in weeks and its contagious.

It lasts until they cross the red bull garage. Just as they pass the door Max steps out of the venue, and he’s accompanied by Daniel. They talk about something, making gestures with their hands, completely taken by their conversation. When they recognise Oscar and Lando, they come towards them to congratulate them for qualifying. Oscar notices the shift in Lando’s voice instantly. He can feel him tensing up beside him and throws him a questioning look from the side, which Lando ignores. They don’t talk much, Max elaborates his thoughts on Lando’s winning round, and Daniel just looks at them with what Oscar thinks is a weird, crooked kind of smile.

The light-hearted tone disappeared from Lando’s voice as he exchanges details about his round with Max.

Oscar doesn’t want to be rude, but he can’t stand the strung-up edge in Lando’s voice and he can’t stop thinking about how everything had been fine, great even, until they ran into Max and Daniel. So, he decides to get him out of the situation and interrupts their conversation, which feels uncomfortable but his desire to take care of Lando is bigger than his reluctance to being rude.

“Sorry guys, I think we must get going. Zack needs us for a team meeting in a minute.“

Lando doesn’t look at him, but he doesn’t speak up about this flat out lie either, so Oscar feels like he did the right thing.

Max nods and Daniel continues to look at them in this weird way, and Oscar pulls Lando away with a hand on his fireproofs.

They walk in silence towards the McLaren motorhome. Oscar tries a couple of times to throw Lando a look, invites him silently to open up about why he’s now back at being tense and awkward but Lando doesn’t take the invitation.

During the drive back to Lando’s apartment, Oscar can’t stop his mind from spiralling around what it is that gets Lando so anxious at the moment. He had thought it was just racing, and the pressure of the championship. But with his amazing qualifying today, P1 and a new lap record, that doesn’t seem so much like it was the problem anymore.

They enter the apartment, and both go to take a shower, Oscar in one of the guest bedrooms and Lando in his own. Afterwards Oscar waits for Lando in the living room as usual. He hears the shower turning off, but Lando doesn’t come out for another 30 minutes. He starts to worry whether he will come out at all or if he will just shut Oscar out again. He’s currently overthinking whether he should just go in or not, whether Lando needs comfort or space right now, when the door to Lando’s room opens.

Lando however doesn’t come out. Oscar takes it as a sign that he’s open to his company at least.

He gets up and walks over to the room and leans against the door frame uncomfortably, not sure whether it’s safe to enter. Lando sits on the bed and scrolls angrily through his phone.

Oscar knocks against the door frame to make himself heard. Lando doesn’t look up. Oscar sighs.

“Is everything okay?” he asks carefully.

“Couldn’t be better,” Lando says toneless and puts his phone down, but he doesn’t look up.

Oscar doesn’t really know what to say. It feels like Lando is rubber band that is stretched so much that it is about to tear apart. The nervousness and the anxiety he’s radiating makes Oscar uncomfortable. It feels like every wrong word from Oscar could send him over the edge and make him blow up.

“I think I should put you down,” he says, carefully, to not upset Lando or appear like he thinks he knows what’s best for him, he wouldn’t want to arrogate that to himself. But his voice is also firm and determined. He tries to offer Lando an anchor to cling to, to ease his anxiety.

Lando frowns, opens his mouth and Oscar prepares himself for him to snap back at him, but Lando closes his mouth again, he closes his eyes and sighs heavily.

“Yeah, maybe,” he says, and Oscar thinks he might apostatise about the fact that he managed to moderate Lando’s weird mood and might actually get him to calm down.

He carefully lays a hand on Lando’s shoulder, always prepared to be pushed away, but it’s visible how Lando at least tries to relax into Oscar’s touch, and that’s enough for Oscar right now.

“How do you want it?” he asks. Lando just shrugs. “Don’t care,” he says, his voice dull.

“Okay,” Oscar says, stroking over Lando’s neck softly. “I’ll just try to give you what I think you need, but please tell me if it’s not working for you.”

“Sure,” Lando answers, his voice still full of something close to defiance.

“Hey,” Oscar says, gripping his neck a little tighter, his voice a little firmer.

He watches the area around Lando’s mouth curl in something that looks like anger and tries to lock their eyes. What he would give to be able to look right through them right into Lando’s soul, to find out what’s keeping him so on edge.

“Sorry,” Lando mumbles. “I will tell you if it’s not working.” Then, a short pause and Lando’s gaze softening just a wee bit. “Thank you,” he says, his voice still dull, “I know I’m probably a bit… hard to put up with at the moment.”

Oscar is so baffled by this amount of self-reflection from him that he doesn’t know what to say for a moment. He just stands there, looking into Lando’s stormy eyes, wondering whether he should risk to ask why Lando is so hard to put up with currently.

“It’s okay baby,” he says instead, and preens at the small tremble that goes through Lando’s strung up body at the pet-name.

He pushes Lando down to his knees, tells him to keep his hands behind his back, keeps his hand tight on the back of his neck. But he notices that it doesn’t work. Lando can’t sit still, he keeps shuffling on his knees, keeps curling his mouth as if he can’t shut out his thoughts. Oscar tries to stay steady for him and just hopes that Lando will calm down eventually, until Lando loosens his hands behind his back. “It doesn’t work,” he says, his voice dark and toneless. “I’m sorry.”

Oscar moves his hand up towards his curls and tugs slightly, caringly. “You don’t have to apologise for that. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Lando is still for a moment, looking down on the space between Oscar’s legs in front of him, then he shakes his head softly and gets up to sit down on the bed next to him. He falls back on the bed and closes his eyes.

“Should I just leave you alone?” Oscar asks, quietly, and wishes so much for Lando to ask him to stay, to tell him to lay down next to him and just hold him.

“Maybe,” Lando says to his detriment and Oscar’s heart sinks a bit. “I don’t want to bother you with my weird mood.”

Oscar wants to shake him, scream at him that he’s never going to be bothered if Lando is not his usual quirky self.

But he doesn’t say that. He’s too exhausted to fight. He just nods and gets up from the bed to leave the room.

“Just tell me if I can do anything for you,” he says, before he closes the door behind him and walks over to the guest bedroom he used to occupy. Which feels horribly wrong.

Lando doesn’t come out of his room again until Oscar already lays in the bed in the guest bedroom and tries to fall asleep. He hears the door to Lando’s room open, Lando rummaging around in the kitchen for a bit, and then retreating to his bedroom, the door closing with a click Oscar can hear through the walls, and that leaves an awful sting in his chest.

 

- Sunday -

It’s weird.

Lando just won in freaking Monaco, and he does seem happy about it. Just not quite as happy and relaxed as Oscar would like him to be. While he stands next to him on the podium, and sits next to him in the press conference, he constructs a plan in his head.  Tonight, when they are finally back in the comfort of Lando’s apartment and alone, he will get him to talk about it. He’s had enough of not knowing what makes him so anxious, and he’s not capable of continuing like this throughout the next months.

When everything is finally over, he withdraws to his driver’s room to shower and dress, and then he goes over to Lando’s room so they can drive home together. He’s longing for a calm moment with him after the traffic of race weekend. To lie in his bed with him and bury his nose in his neck.

Oscar knocks on the door of Lando’s driver’s room and opens the door after he hears Lando’s muffled ‘come in’ from inside. Lando looks freshly showered and only wears his jeans from earlier. Oscar can’t help but let his gaze roam over his chest quickly, and he thinks about how much he wants to be in the comfort of Lando’s apartment with him right now. Alone. He closes the door behind him, shutting the rest of the world out, making it just them in what comes closest to a private space on a track.

“Hey,” he says, and forcefully keeps his hand in the pockets of his shorts. After the way Lando acted all weekend, he doesn’t want to risk causing him to lash out in an uncontrolled moment.

“Hey,” Lando answers tersely. The uncomfortable feeling in Oscar’s stomach is back.

“Ready to head home?” Oscar asks, while he rests his back against the closed door behind him, watching Lando as he pulls his shirt from the shelves and pulls it over his head. He’s not exactly sure what he means by saying ‘home’. “We could grab some comfort food on the way.” Pizza seems like a good idea to cheer Lando up.

Lando turns away from him to look at himself in the small mirror on the wall. “Actually, I think I want to join the others at the afterparty.”

“What afterparty?” Oscar asks, feeling all of a sudden like a rookie who’s not yet invited to the table of the cool kids. “Oh, some of the other Monaco drivers always throw a party after the race here. Max and Carlos are definitely in, but I think the majority of the others are joining as well.” Oscar watches him running his fingers through his hair, trying to make it look perfect. It always looks perfect anyway, Oscar wants to say. Lando stills and finds Oscars eyes in the mirror. “You’re obviously welcome to join as well. I wanted to ask you eventually. I just wasn’t sure whether I wanted to go myself. And I know you’re not the biggest fan of parties and clubs and alcohol, so…” he doesn’t finish the sentence.

Oscar tries to sound unagitated. “I can manage with going to a club from time to time.”

He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t know why he wants Lando to think that he doesn’t have a problem with going clubbing. Maybe just because Lando anticipated that he wouldn’t be thrilled by the idea. “I mean- If you want me there obviously. I guess I can also manage to get a flight home.”

Lando looks down and fixes something on his shirt that doesn’t seem like it needed fixing in the first place. “Obviously, I want you there. And the others will be happy too if you join us.” It doesn’t sound very convincing, but Oscar doesn’t feel like pushing further.

“And we agreed for you to stay till Monday, so you should stay.” Lando finishes fumbling with his shirt. The way he talks about it, it sounds more like a business arrangement to Oscar’s ears than an a talk between friends, and it makes his heart sting a little that Lando is so distant. He thinks about denying the invitation, if just to show Lando that he doesn’t agree with being treated like that. But considering the weird way Lando acted the past couple of days, he doesn’t exactly feel comfortable with letting him near a lot of alcohol, only supervised by Max Verstappen and other party-F1-boys. He doesn’t feel comfortable about the level of possessiveness he feels about the situation either. He tries to shrug it off.

“Okay, then I guess I’m in.” At least Lando manages a small smile. “Cool,” he says and turns around. “We should go find the others then, Carlos texted me like half an hour ago that he’s ready to leave.” Lando walks towards him, to leave the room through the door Oscar is still blocking by leaning against it.

He doesn’t move right away. He finds Lando’s gaze and locks their eyes. He doesn’t touch him. “Are you sure clubbing is what you want to do right now?” he says, carefully. Lando furrows his brows, and something sharp appears in his eyes. “Why wouldn’t that be what I want?” His voice is almost cold, and it makes Oscars heart clench. He knows he should just let it go. “I just- it was a long day-“ he stammers. “And the way you acted the past couple of days, you just didn’t seem like you-“ “I’m fine, Oscar.” Lando interrupts him, his voice firm and final. “Spending a night out with friends after an exhausting day and a win in Monaco is not something that I have to justify myself for.”

Why do you sound like you’re justifying yourself then, Oscar thinks, but doesn’t say.

“Of course,” he says instead, trying to reach out a metaphorical hand for Lando to grab, to pull them closer together again. To find their casual intimacy again.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to appear like I wanted to patronize you.”

The tense look on Lando’s look softens just a little. “It’s okay,” he says, short and conclusive, clearly indicating that he’s not open for any further discussion. “Let’s just get going, okay? The others are waiting.”

Oscar nods and makes way to the door.

Even though Oscar is physically right next to Lando, he feels awkwardly distant when he watches Lando chug his first beer together with Max and Carlos before they even get in the taxi. He watches what he knows is Lando’s fake public-safe laugh in silence and grabs a beer himself to not be the weird kid who doesn’t drink. He’s been there before, he just never thought it would be something that he would feel around his boyfr– Around Lando.

As soon as Oscar sets foot in the club Max and Charles labelled as the place to be on a Sunday night in Monaco, he remembers why he never goes to clubs. He hates the aggressively flickering colourful lights, he hates the humming bass that makes him afraid he might go deaf, and he hates all of the people in their stupid clothes they obviously only put on to fit in, or to particularly not fit in but stand out.

What he hates even more are all of the couples around them. Most drivers brought their subs and it makes Oscar nauseous to see how they claim them. All the hands on their necks in public, collars, obedient (mostly) women, standing next to their doms, smiling at everything the doms around them have to say to each other, staying silent themselves. It makes something inside him rumble.

He spends a while walking around with Lando and Carlos, until he thinks that Lando looks a little annoyed by his presence. Then he leaves them and leans on the bar instead, watching the bar keeper pour a lot of different alcoholics into different shaped glasses in fascinating speed.

When he turns around and leans against the bar table with his back, scanning the room for Lando, just to check if he’s okay (no, he doesn’t have a problem, and he’s not an anxious helicopter-parent), he notices Max watching him from where he stands with his sub-girlfriend and Charles near at one of the VIP tables they occupied. Their eyes lock for a moment and Oscar looks away quickly, trying to escape that moment that feels way to intimate for some reason. It’s too late though, he realizes, as he catches Max making his way over to him out of the corner of his eye.

He orders something from the barkeeper first, seemingly trying to act like that was the main reason he came over to Oscar, before he leans on the bar right next to him.

“What is it with the two of you?” Max asks, and Oscar feels his breath getting stuck in his throat. He can practically feel his heart stop beating as he pants an answer. “What do you mean?” he gets out, but his voice sounds way too high. The second he answered, he thinks it what have been better to ask who Max means.

Max takes a sip of his Vodka Red Bull (the freaking cliché).

“You’re weird with each other recently. Somehow you seem to be friends, but then you’re throwing each other those weird looks from time to time.”

Oscar looks over at Lando who’s currently screaming something at Carlos over the music at the dance floor. “Like just now you were looking at Lando like you want to kill someone.” Oscar swallows. He didn’t realize he was so obvious. “Is the championship fight already getting to you after all?” Max asks and looks back at him, and Oscar hopes he doesn’t realize how all colour left his face in the past minute. “Then buckle up, because I plan on playing a role in that as well, and if you start looking at me like that too I’m going to sue you or something.” Oscar knows Max is trying to cheer him up in his weird Max-kind-of-way. Max couldn’t know how much his words are getting to Oscar and make all of it so much worse. He tries to offer a diplomatic smile. “Yeah, were counting on you to take the pressure off us actually,” he says, and hopes it sounds as light as he intends and not as desperate as he feels.

“Want to join us?” Max asks, nodding towards the table he came from. Actually, Oscar doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to spend the next hour looking at how Max and Charles act around their subs. But standing alone somewhere waiting for Lando to notice and come back to him, like he’s a dog left outside a supermarket, doesn’t sound very compelling either.

So he looks at Max thankfully. “Sure.”

Oscar waits patiently for Lando to get tired of the loud music and all of the random people around them. He watches Lando talking to a bunch of people while he sips his beer quietly in the corner, listens to whatever Max and Charles are talking about without really engaging in any conversation himself. He’s focussed on watching Lando getting more and more drunk by the hour.

He notices Max throwing him a weird look from time to time, potentially when he just looked particularly angry, but he ignores it.

He thinks about trying to get Lando to go home with him. He knows Lando will lash out at him the second he says something, the way he was all keyed up the whole weekend. He knows he was already pretty close to exploding after the race when they met in Lando’s drivers’ room. But when Lando chucks the next shot together with Max and Carlos and falters a bit after putting the glass back down, gripping the edge of the bar to steady himself and keep him from falling, it’s the last straw for Oscar.

He puts his beer down at the table he’s sitting at with a bit more force than necessary, gets up with a jerk and ignores the confused look of the perfectly nice Monegasque girl next to him.

He rushes over to where Lando is still standing at the bar and approaches him from the side, sliding a hand to his lower back casually but intently. “Hey Lan,” he says, looking into Lando’s glassy but stormy eyes with a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Are you okay?” he asks, carefully, and just prays that the hand on Lando’s lower back will somewhat steady him a little bit, will prevent him from snapping immediately. “M’great,” Lando says, slurred but still aggressively. “Why’d you ask?”

Oscar can’t help but sigh uncomfortably. He feels like he’s walking a tight rope.

“What are you sighing about?” Lando snaps. “What have I done now?”

Oscar notices from the corner of his eyes that Max and Carlos start looking at them a little uncomfortably and slowly retreating towards the dance floor.

“Maybe we should go home,” Oscar says, still carefully but determined. Whatever Lando’s problem is, it’s starting to get really annoying. “I don’t want to go home yet.” Lando looks at him challengingly.

“Lan, I really don’t want to mother you, but I think we should go home soon. I get that you don’t want to tell me what the problem is, but you’re obviously worked up about something and I don’t think the solution lies in this club or in all the alcohol you’re drinking tonight.” Lando doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Oscar like he wants to punch him, which makes Oscar deeply unhappy. But he no longer manages to keep himself from interrogating Lando about it. “I just don’t get it, you won today, you had an amazing weekend, what is your problem? Is it too much pressure for you?” He knows its the wrong thing to say the second he says it.

“Well, what do you know about the pressure? It doesn’t even bother you, all of it, you’re always just fine.” Lando almost shouts, and even clumsily shoves Oscar back a little. It’s not serious, it’s even a little hesitant as if Lando doesn’t really want it and he’s doing it more to himself than to Oscar. He even stumbles more than Oscar afterwards.

“Lando, you’re drunk,” Oscar says, slowly but surely getting a little annoyed about Lando’s behaviour. Lando scoffs. “Another thing you have no clue about, right? Because perfect Oscar Piastri doesn’t get drunk.” Oscar can’t help but grimace at Lando’s harsh words. But to his detriment, Lando is not done with throwing a tantrum.

“You know what, I’m not going to bother you with my drunkenness anymore, or my stupid problems. Just go home, go to sleep. Go be all perfect and unshakable somewhere else. Not everyone of us can be perfect and unproblematic. Some of us just need to get on other people’s nerves from time to time. Sorry that I’m such a burden.”

Unfortunately, that’s one more sentence than Oscar can handle. He feels something stirring up inside him, something possessive, something that doesn’t let him fully control his own actions anymore. With one sharp movement he grips the collar of Lando’s shirt, forgetting all of the people around them who could watch them. “Cut the bullshit Lando, I have told you hundreds of times that I don’t want you talking about yourself like this.” He stares into Lando’s eyes with an intensity that makes Lando squirm and avoid his eyes. Oscar’s hand slips from the collar of Lando’s shirt to his right wrist and grips it firmly. “I am going to take your advice and leave, but I would highly encourage you to take my advice right now and leave with me, unless you want to be in a lot of trouble tomorrow.”

Oscar knows that he is crossing so many lines by talking to Lando like that. He knows he is behaving exactly like what he said all the past weeks he’s not. He’s behaving like Lando’s dom. And not only that. He’s doing all the things that he doesn’t really like about the whole dynamic shit. He’s behaving like he has some kind of claim on Lando, like he has the right to tell him what to do and when and worse, what not to do, just because he’s a sub.

And he knows that they are not in a relationship, that they are just friends that scene every once in a while. He knows he has no right to act like this, but his instincts just won’t let him be reasonable. Fuck, he wants to push Lando into the next bathroom stall and show him just how much trouble he got himself into. Especially with the way all of the fight had seemed to just leave Lando’s body in an instant. He just looks at Oscar like a deer in the headlights, helpless, caught. Like a child that just realised that it fucked up seriously. Oscar wants to grab him and kiss him senseless, but he also wants to let Lando feel just how mad he is right now.

It takes a lot of self-discipline, but Oscar manages to turn around and make his way out of the club.

He’s not sure if Lando is following him and he forces himself not to turn around and look. But when he gets out on the street and starts walking towards Lando’s apartment he can feel Lando’s presence behind him and lets out a relieved breath. Just now he realises how tense the whole situation had made him. He hates himself for the way he just talked to Lando, and he’s so fucking relieved that Lando is not stubborn enough to stay behind, alone, drunk as he is.

However, he walks straight ahead and doesn’t turn until he hears Lando’s soft voice from behind, slurred a bit from the alcohol. “Oscar, wait. Please.” Oscar stops instantly and turns around. Lando looks so lost how he stands there, obviously having trouble to walk straight. Oscar lets his gaze turn softer and audibly sighs, the tension that built up over the past hours slowly leaving his body. He waits until Lando reaches him and stands in front of him, looking down at the street, not meeting Oscar’s eyes.

Oscar swallows down the weird feeling that’s still rumbling in his chest that wants to put Lando to his knees right there in the middle of the street. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispers, laying a hand on Lando’s waist, careful that it doesn’t look too intimate, in case somebody watches them. “Can you walk the rest of the way, or should I get us an uber?” Lando shakes his head slowly, with closed eyes. “Don’t think I can sit in a car without throwing up,” he mumbles, obviously very concentrated on speaking clearly. Oscar tries to squeeze his waist reassuringly, not sure if Lando even notices. “Then we’ll walk slowly, okay?” Lando nods, and Oscar’s heart aches at his helplessness. If they weren’t standing in the middle of Monaco, hundreds of people around, he would let his hand run through Lando’s curls right now, or pull him into a tight hug, or kiss him until he forgets about whatever kept him so on edge the past couple of days.

They walk home very slowly, Oscar’s hand not leaving Lando’s waist, steadying him all the way until they reach his apartment. In the elevator up to Lando’s floor, Lando leans against the wall, his head falling back against it, and closes his eyes, and Oscar strokes over his hip softly. When they get into the apartment, Oscar pushes Lando softly towards his bedroom. He helps him out of his shirt and his pants and pulls a fresh shirt over his head. He gets a bottle of water from the kitchen and forces Lando to drink it all, before he gets another bottle and places it next to Lando’s side of the bed, as well as a bowl from the kitchen, just in case. When he comes back from the bathroom after brushing his teeth and putting on a fresh shirt as well, Lando is already practically passed out on the bed. Oscar leans against the doorframe for a second, watching him as his chest peacefully rises and falls from his steady breathing. After spending hours in this stupid club, the bass hammering loudly and all of the people around them separating him and Lando from each other, this quiet moment, just the two of them in Lando’s bedroom feels like heaven. He pulls the blanket on top of Lando and then lies down on the other side of the bed. Listening to Lando’s breathing, he falls asleep within minutes.

Notes:

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it despite my troubles that I mentioned above ❤️

Chapter 13: Monaco 2025 - Aftermath

Notes:

We are all so surprised that there is a second part to Monaco, aren't we?:D
Originally, it was only one chapter, but it became a little too long for my liking, so I decided to make it two.
It took me a long time to get it roughly the way I wanted it, but I think I'm happy with how it turned out!
So I hope you like it too ❤️

– Monday –

Lando wakes up on Monday around noon, alone in his bed and with what he thinks might be the worst headache of his life. With his eyes still closed, he taps his hand on the empty bed beside him in search of Oscar. Did he even come back with him last night? Worry shoots through him. What if he did something stupid or said something that upset Oscar? Scenes and Images from last night only come back to him slowly.

He carefully sits up and rests his back against the headboard of the bed, squeezing his eyes in pain at the jolt that flickers through his brain. When he scans the room, he finds his clothes from last night carefully folded on the chair in the corner. There's no way he did that himself last night, judging from the way his head hurts. He also spots Oscar’s shirt from last night hanging off the edge of the chair. He briefly thinks about Oscar in that shirt, about how fucking handsome he had looked. When he looks at the nightstand, he sees Oscar’s Fitness Tracker attached to the charger Lando placed there for him, and it settles his anxiety a bit. Oscar must have come back with him last night, and he must have slept next to him, and he’s probably somewhere in the apartment right now.

He prepares himself to get up when he hears steps from the hallway. The next moment, the door to the room opens slowly. Oscar appears in the doorway. When he sees that Lando is awake, he leans against the doorframe casually. He’s wearing grey joggers and one of his white shirts that sits just a little bit too tight on him, showing off the curve of his biceps under the hem of the sleeve. His hair looks soft and has that perfect curl at the front that it has on good days, and he doesn’t look half as wrecked as Lando feels. He looks perfect.

“You’re awake,” he says bluntly. “Thought I heard something groaning in here.” It could be teasing and light, but the expression on Oscar’s face and the tone of his voice indicate that he’s not in a joking mood.

Lando desperately tries to remember everything that happened last night. He remembers snapping at Oscar after the race about going to the club. He remembers drinking… way too much with Max and Carlos. He remembers… No, he doesn’t remember how exactly he got home.

For a moment, they just stare at each other, eyes locking, both of them trying to assess how to handle the situation from here on out. Then, Oscar sighs, and Lando watches the tension leaving his body a bit. He pushes off the doorframe and walks over towards the bed. Lando moves his legs to the side to make room for Oscar to sit down at the edge of the bed.

Oscar sits down, reaches into his pocket, and gets out a packet of Aspirin. He reaches down and picks up a bottle of water from the floor next to the bed. It crosses Lando’s mind that he must’ve left it there in advance last night, and something in his chest warms and twists at the same time about Oscar being so caring and good to him. He puts the bottle in Lando’s hand, then takes one pill out from the packet. “Here,” he says, and hands him the pill. Lando doesn’t know whether he wants to protest about being patronized or if he’s thankful for Oscar taking charge.

He swallows the pill with the minimum amount of water. He feels sick, his stomach making weird rumblings.

“Drink up,” Oscar says, eyeing the bottle in Lando’s hand.

“I don’t feel like drinking water right now,” he murmurs and puts the bottle back into Oscar’s hand.

He makes an attempt to get his feet on the floor and get up from the bed, but Oscar quickly puts his hand out on his shoulders and pushes him back against the headboard.

“Lando, you’re probably completely dehydrated. I don’t want to have to pick you up off the floor if you collapse somewhere. You’re going to drink the whole bottle right now, or you’re not getting up.”

Lando shivers at the commanding and unrelenting tone of Oscar’s voice. Something below his stomach tightens. It feels equally awful and pleasant.

He decides not to pick a fight about a stupid bottle of water, takes a deep breath instead, in and out, and swallows down the whole bottle of water in one go. Oscar puts a hand on his thigh when he’s finished, squeezing slightly, and Lando can’t determine whether it's caring, possessive, or scolding in some kind of way. “Good boy,” he utters, and it makes the thing in Lando’s stomach clench again, even though Oscar doesn’t even sound that affectionate. There’s a dark edge to his voice that Lando can’t really place.

Oscar lets him get up from the bed afterwards, and Lando disappears to the bathroom to take a shower and brush his teeth, and he tries to fix his hair and the dark circles under his eyes. It bothers him that Oscar looks like the perfect, polished boy next door, and he looks like a mess himself. It makes him feel inferior, and it feels like a reminder of something that happened last night that he can’t quite put his finger on yet.

When he’s finished, he already feels a lot better. Slowly, hesitantly, like a child who knows exactly that it misbehaved, he leaves his room to join Oscar in the kitchen, where he currently throws fruits into a blender.

It’s weird because it’s his apartment, but in that moment, Lando feels like he’s moving into Oscar’s space, and he’s scared to make a wrong step.

He sits down at one of the high stools at the kitchen island and watches Oscar throwing together seemingly random stuff into a pan. Oscar puts a plate in front of him when he’s finished, wordless, and accompanies it with another bottle of water and a smoothie. Being cared for like that makes something warm in Lando’s chest, but he’s unable to say anything about it. He just looks at Oscar, waits for him to meet his eyes, hopes for a comforting, assuring look on his face, that doesn’t come. Oscar just looks down at the counter between them, or at his own plate, as they eat their breakfast in silence.

Lando desperately searches his memories for what he did wrong last night, what he said to Oscar that makes him so cold and distant right now. He’s not used to Oscar being like this. He’s used to Oscar being the caring one, the affectionate one who always tries to find out what goes through Lando’s mind, not the other way around.

When they both finished their breakfast, and Oscar made him drink the second bottle of water, Oscar puts the plates into the dishwasher and leans against the counter afterwards, looking down at the kitchen island between them.

Slowly, still trying to balance his headache, Lando gets up as well and leans against the island in front of Oscar. Trying to get closer again, physically and mentally. He’s only half a metre apart from Oscar, and he’s longing to throw himself into Oscar's arms, for him to hold him close like he usually does, to put his hand on his neck and call him baby.

“Oscar, I don’t remember everything that happened last night,” he starts, trying to be diplomatic and somehow fix this mess. “But I’m sorry if I did anything that upset you-“

“You mean when you decided to drink way too much over your limit, knowing that I wouldn’t like it? Knowing that I would feel obliged to look after you?” Oscar interrupts him, snappish. Lando swallows heavily. He can’t bring himself to look Oscar in the eye. “Or when you decided to act like a brat and not listen to me about drinking too much? Or when I asked you what was wrong, and you refused to tell me? Or when you called yourself a burden and a problem after I told you many times that I don’t want you to talk about yourself like that?” Lando swallows and directs his gaze at some point on the floor between them. For a second, he thinks he’s actually lucky he’s so hungover because he’s not sure how sober Lando would’ve handled this situation. Probably by talking back, saying something stupid, and making the situation even worse.

“Or do you mean the way you pushed me away almost the entire weekend when everything I wanted was just to be there for you?” His voice loses some of its force towards the end and it makes Lando’s heart ache.

“I know I was not easy this weekend, but I don’t understand why you’re so mad.”

“Because you always shut me out!” Oscar shouts, and it makes Lando’s hungover brain hurt. “Because you’re still not telling me the truth about what is going on in your head. You never do. You didn’t tell me what was wrong after Japan, and you didn’t tell me what the problem was this week. And it I tried to give you time and be understanding, really, I tried but I’m afraid I can’t do that anymore.”

Lando watches him taking a steadying breath, how he tries to calm down.

“I just feel like everything got a little too mixed up over the past couple of weeks,” he says, his voice calm now, but toneless. Lando’s heart sinks at his words.

“What do you mean?” he asks carefully, his voice coming out roughly.

“Just… everything between us. With us being friends and with me doming you and… It just breaks me to know that something is up, but you won’t tell me. But it’s your right to keep it from me if you don’t want to tell me, but I don’t think I can bear it to be shut out like that any longer.”

He hears Oscar taking in a deep breath. It’s obvious he has some sort of conflict with himself, but Lando doesn’t really understand what the heart of the problem is.

“God Lando, if I was your dom, like for real, you would be in such big trouble now.” He pauses for a second, as if he were terrified of himself for saying that. Lando looks at him, unsure how to respond. He knows he messed up, he knows any other dom who was as close with him as Oscar is would’ve already told him his place last night. Would’ve probably not even let it get that far – despite the nature of their relationship.

Oscar looks like he is having a fight with himself, and he is about to lose. Lando watches the area around his mouth twitch in the way it only does when Oscar is seriously unhappy with some stupid McLaren team decision.

Oscar runs a hand through his hair in obvious despair. “Fuck.”

Lando winces. Oscar almost never swears. He knows by now that when Oscar starts swearing, he’s genuinely mad. The way he runs his hand through his hair adds to the impression that he is seriously upset. Lando can’t help but stare at the floor. He can’t face the tormented look in Oscar’s eyes.

“I think I need some space,” Oscar says, and Lando’s heart drops down to his stomach. He can’t control it. He starts begging immediately. “Please, Oscar I’m sorry, I know I fucked up. Please don’t leave me about this, I can make it up to you, I swear-” Oscar interrupts him with a concerned look in his eyes. “Lando, calm down. I don’t mean I need space because– I just–” He takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair again nervously. Lando can’t help the anxiousness inside of him. He has to resist the urge to grasp Oscar’s shirt, gripping it, clinging to him and making sure Oscar doesn’t step one centimetre further away from him, or falling to his knees, begging Oscar to stay. To forgive him. “Please,” he whispers, without any control over his words and voice. “Please just tell me what I can do–”

“Lando, it’s not you,” Oscar says, his eyes wide as if in shock about Lando’s reaction. “Like, yes, I’m mad, but I don’t need space because I’m mad- or actually I do, but not because of you, but because of me.”

Lando looks at him confused. “What do you mean?”

Oscar looks so unhappy with himself. “I just don’t feel like I can control myself- like-“ He sighs. “My instincts, I- The dom in me…” He contorts his face in agony.

Lando looks at him, searches in his eyes for he doesn’t even know what. He takes a deep breath before he speak. “You feel the need to punish me somehow, right?”

Oscar looks at him like a kid who just broke his favourite toy. Lando bites down on his lower lip. He wants to fix whatever he fucked up so desperately. and it makes Lando hate himself for causing Oscar this amount of trouble.

He squeezes his eyes shut because he can’t bear to look at Oscar's tortured gaze, even though he’s not sure if he’s unhappy with Lando or with himself. He can practically feel Oscar’s struggle. A Dom who only takes a sub down every other week, for convenience purposes, shouldn’t feel the need to punish him. But he also shouldn’t mark him, and he shouldn’t propose controlling his orgasms. And a sub that only uses a dom to be taken down every now and then, shouldn’t feel what Lando feels at being marked by him, or being denied to touch himself, or at the possibility of being punished by him.

“Do it,” he says, his voice quiet but firm, and Oscar's eyes widen.

“Lando,” he says, his voice soft now. “That’s not my place.” Lando watches as he crosses his arms in front of his chest, uncomfortably. “We’re just casual and all, and I’m just trying to respect that, and I just don’t trust myself around you right now. We’re not- together like that. I have no right to–”

To hear those words from Oscar’s mouth makes something inside Lando ache. “Don’t say that all the time,” Lando interrupts him before he can think it through.

Suddenly, he’s so sick and tired of all this talk about crossing lines, about how they are not in a dynamic relationship, about how they are just friends when they have literally seen each other naked for weeks. When Oscar had marked him, and fucked him, and messed him up completely in a way that makes Lando think he might not be able to live without him anymore. And Lando feels like there is something changing between them as he thinks it through. But actually, he thinks, the only thing changing is the way they perceive their relationship. Because if they were honest to themselves, if they had been honest ever since Oscar kissed him for the first time weeks ago, they would’ve already admitted that this hadn’t been casual anymore for a long time. But he knows that if he starts admitting it now, they would have to start to acknowledge their relationship with each other for what it was.

And Lando isn’t entirely sure if he knows what that means, a real relationship, with perfect Oscar Piastri. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for that, if he can give Oscar what he needs to satisfy his dynamic instincts, if he is enough. But he knows that he is ready to find out.

He takes a deep breath before he speaks again. He tries to steady himself. Tries his best to not crumble under the severance of the situation, by how much power he is about to hand over to Oscar.

“Don’t say that,” he says again, firm and sure now.

Oscar doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just looks at Lando, in his eyes a mix of fear and expectation and… desire. “Say what?” he asks, and it sounds encouraging. Lando forces himself to raise his head and meet Oscar’s gaze. He wants this to be a significant moment, he wants Oscar to know that he really means what he is about to say, wants them both to feel the weight of the words.

“Don’t say that we are not in a relationship.” Oscar’s Golden Retriever eyes have a reassuring effect on him, even encourage him to tell Oscar the fucking truth, to finally speak his fucking mind for once. “Because for me, that’s exactly what we are.”

Oscar doesn’t react immediately. He just keeps staring into Lando’s eyes, the way he does sometimes, the way that makes Lando want to back away and hide somewhere. For a moment, he’s scared that he just fucked it all up. Scared that he misunderstood Oscar after all. That this is not what Oscar wants them to be.

Finally, after a moment that probably lasted for only half a minute, but feels like hours to Lando, Oscar reaches his hand out and puts it on the back of Lando’s neck, lightly but steady. Lando allows himself to take a relaxing breath. Oscar is not leaving.

“Lando, listen to me. Are you sure this is what you want?” Before Lando can answer, Oscar starts speaking again. “I don’t want you to say this just because you're hungover right now and scared because I’m obviously angry with you– or with myself.” Lando breathes in to respond, but Oscar speaks before him again. “I want you to really think this through. It’s a big deal, and I don’t know if I will be able to hold back right now if you say-”

“You could spare yourself a lot of breath if you would just let me talk for a second,” Lando interrupts him in a volume that makes his hungover head hurt.

Oscar shuts his mouth and looks at him expectantly. “Yes, I am sure that this is what I want. Believe me or not I have been thinking about this before. And what’s the difference anyway, we see each other all the time, we scene every other week, we have sex. What does it matter if we clarify things right now and treat this situation for what it is.”

Oscar seems to ponder it in his head for a moment. “The difference is that you would be handing over a lot of power to me, I don’t know if you are aware of that. A dynamic relationship is a serious thing, Lando and-” Lando interrupts him again. “Oh, come on, what do you think, I’m stupid? I’ve been a sub all my life, there might not be a lot of people who know, and I might not have had a Dom like that yet, but I do know how to use Google, and I have friends who submitted in dynamic relationships before. I don’t live under a rock.“

Oscar rolls his eyes at him and then grabs his chin with a bit more force than needed.

“If I were you, I would stop being so cocky,” he says and stares into Lando’s eyes with his intense dom-stare.

Lando takes a deep breath. He decides right then that if he is going to do this, he will do it unreservedly.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he says, his voice slightly trembling. And he’s surprised to find that it feels… good to say it.

He can see the fire lighting up in Oscar’s eyes, but he also sees how Oscar hates himself for it. He drops his hand from his chin, and Lando instantly feels less safe.

“If your dom instincts tell you that you have to punish me for my behaviour the past couple of days, then just do it,” Lando says and forces himself to hold Oscar's gaze the whole time. He pauses for a moment before he continues.

“What do you want to do?”

Oscar sighs. “Lan, I don’t want to do anything. I won’t punish you.”

Lando feels something building up inside him in a mix of the fear of losing Oscar and the rising anger about Oscar’s resistance.

“Okay, so we just do nothing and wait for you to start resenting me instead?” he says, snappish.

Oscar runs a hand over his forehead in something that seems like despair. “That won’t happen.”

“How do you know that?” Lando shoots back, anxiety making him irritable.

Oscar doesn't answer, he just looks through the large living room window at a point above the Mediterranean outside.

“You literally just said that you don’t want to see me,” Lando says, impudently.

Oscar doesn’t move his gaze away from the window. He sounds defeated when he speaks. “I didn’t say that.”

“You said you need space, I don’t see how that’s any different.”

Oscar bites his lip and turns his head back to him. He doesn’t meet his gaze, though. Instead, he fixes a point on Lando’s chest.

“Do you want to spank me?”

Oscar’s eyes widen slightly, and Lando can see something sparking in them, even though Oscar tries desperately to hide it.

“You do,” Lando says, and tries to make his voice steady, not to unsettle Oscar even more. He takes a deep breath.

“Okay, I can deal with that,” he says, but his voice doesn’t sound as comfortable as he would like to.

“How do you want me?”

“Fuck Lando I don’t want to do that.” Oscar’s voice gets louder, as If he’s fighting back against Lando, but Lando knows he’s rather fighting with himself.

“Yes, you do, and I won’t let you deny yourself something that you need. Something you need because I fucked up. I won’t let that jeopardise our relationship.”

There. He said it. Just like that. A relationship.

He takes a careful step towards Oscar and places a comfort-offering hand on his hip, just above the waistline of his jeans, bridging the distance between them. He feels Oscar shivering beneath his touch. He raises his head to find Oscar’s eyes.

“It’s okay that you need this, Osc. It’s okay for me.”

Oscar still looks miserable. “But I don’t want to need those things my instincts tell me. I don’t want to feel the need to punish you.” Their eyes lock, and it feels as if Oscar is looking at something behind his eyes, as if he’s trying to pierce through them and get access to his soul. “And I don’t want to scare you off with something that I only do because my dom  instincts tell me to do it, even though I would prefer not to do them.”

The thing is, Lando gets it. He gets needing something you don’t want. He gets the fear that other people wouldn’t want what you need.

“Osc,” he lets his thumb stroke over Oscar’s waist. “I of all people understand if it’s difficult to admit that you need something that you don’t want to need.”

He watches as Oscar swallows, obviously in conflict with himself. So Lando decides to push a little more.

“This thing,” he makes a gesture with his hand between their bodies, “It can’t always be just about my needs, okay? Like, I need to know that it fulfills your needs as well. Otherwise, it will never stop feeling like you’re doing it out of pity for me when you’re doming me.“ Even though he never thought about it this way before, it feels right when he says it. “And I want you to dom me because you want to, and not only because I need it.”

That seems to touch something inside Oscar. The wrinkle on his forehead disappears.

“I mean, of course, we need to talk about this kind of stuff. But the solution can’t be that you pull away every time your instincts tell you to do something that you think is too much. I couldn’t bear it if you pushed me away every time this happens.” Then he realizes how ridiculous that sounds, considering his behaviour towards Oscar ever since they started scening back in Melbourne.

“After all, I think I’ve pushed you away for stupid reasons enough for both of us. I don’t need you to adapt that behaviour,” he adds with a small smirk.

He watches as Oscar closes his eyes and feels him leaning into his hand that is still lying on hip. “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, his voice shaking slightly.

Lando reaches out and takes Oscar’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “You won’t,” he whispers. “You’re a good person, Oscar. And you’re a good dom. You’re not one of those who take advantage of their subs. Trust me, I’ve met some of them.”

He sees the alarm bells go up in Oscar’s head by the look in his eyes and squeezes his hand.

“I fucked up, and that’s why you feel the need to punish me. But you don’t want to hurt me just for the sake of it. I know that you won’t do anything to me that I can’t take.”

He pulls Oscar closer by his hand and presses a soft, loving kiss to his lips. He feels Oscar melting into it, clinging to his lips like his life depends on it. When they break apart, Lando puts his hand into Oscar’s hair, stroking through it briefly.

“I trust you, Oscar. You should trust yourself as well.”

Lando notices the exact moment something inside of Oscar shifts. He can see that Oscar’s demeanour changes. It’s like a quake goes through him as he takes a steadying breath. He visibly straightens up, and the look in his eyes goes from devastated to determined. It makes Lando feel smaller in a way. But he also feels the secure feeling of Oscar taking care of everything, Oscar handling it for him, coming back.

Oscar lets his hand slip to the back of Lando’s head and pulls him into a hungry kiss. He shoves his tongue into his mouth, claims him, and bites down on his lower lip, making Lando whimper quietly. Lando lets himself melt into it. He welcomes the familiar haze that washes over him, taking hold of his senses.

Oscar pulls him away by his hair, just enough to be able to speak. “Promise me that you will colour out if it feels seriously wrong.” Lando nods, all hazy and compliant already. Oscar tights his grip in Lando’s curls. “Lando, use your words.” “Promise,” he whispers.

He sees the glimmer of hesitation in Oscar’s eyes. “Oscar,” he says, and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I promise I will colour out. I trust you with this, but you have to trust me too.”

Oscar sighs and lays a hand on top of Lando’s on his waist. He nods, and the hesitation disappears.

His voice drops an octave when he speaks next. “Go to your bedroom.” Lando lets out a relieved breath, all of the tension from the discussion leaving his body. Oscar is not going to leave. Oscar is still his.

“Yes, sir,” he says, and savours the heat that gathers just below his stomach as he watches Oscar biting his lip at the words. He turns around to go to his room. He feels Oscar following him slowly. Predatory.

He stops when he reaches the middle of the room, close to the bed. Oscar stays in the doorway and leans against the doorframe. Fuck, the casualness with which he stands there, crossed arms in front of his chest showing his biceps, it makes something in Lando’s stomach squirm.

“Clothes off,” Oscar says in that dark tone that makes Lando shiver. “All of them.”

Lando takes a deep breath to overcome the resistance and the embarrassment that grows inside of him at the thought of being naked in front of Oscar, vulnerable, while he stands there, all composed and ever-perfect Oscar-Piastri. But he swallows all of it down and obeys.

When he put his pants away on the chair in the corner of the room and stands in front of Oscar again, Oscar glances down at his half hard dick, then back up at Lando. Lando blushes and thinks about covering himself with his hands. But it seems to provide Oscar the reassurance he needs to follow through with it. He comes closer, and Lando resists the impulse to run and hide.

He lets his hand run through Lando’s hair, soft at first, but then gripping his hair and pulling his head back, firm but gentle. Lando can’t help the whine that escapes his mouth. “One wouldn’t believe you can be a brat like last night if they knew how good you can be if you only want to.” Lando lets out a noise he doesn’t know if it’s a whine or the arousal that flushes through him at those words.

He feels Oscar’s lips run over the sensitive skin on his neck. He can feel him sucking bruises over his collarbone and is about to protest when Oscar stops him. “Don’t you dare complain, I don’t want to hear it.”

Lando just whimpers. “Fuck, do you even know how hot these noises are?” Lando doesn’t, and he can’t really imagine that it’s not just a phrase, because who the fuck would be enamoured by his helpless, pretentious whines?

He feels Oscar back at his neck, kissing his way down towards his chest.

He puts a hand on Lando’s dick and strokes a couple of time, but its lazy and it's obvious that his only intent is to get Lando worked up, to make him just a little desperate.

Suddenly, he lets go of him. He grips his arm and turns him around, so Lando faces the bed. Oscar’s hand slips down to his back, settling on the end of his spine, keeping him from backing away.

“Bend over and put your hands on the bed,” he says, and the hand on Lando’s back pushes slightly.

Lando takes a deep breath before he obeys. He already feels exposed, bend down like this, his ass on display for Oscar. He feels vulnerable. But it’s fine to be vulnerable for Oscar. His now fully hard dick hangs desperate and useless in the air.

“Spread your legs more,” Oscar’s voice from behind him says. The coldness in Oscar’s voice sends a shiver down his spine and right to his cock. But the most important thing is, he doesn’t hate himself for it. He accepted the fact that he enjoys handing control over to somebody else. Handing control over to Oscar.

He shuffles his legs further apart until Oscar is satisfied with his position. A steady hand on his back pushes his shoulders further down on the mattress. Lando feels his legs trembling slightly and grips the sheets next to his head to steady himself. Oscars hand slights down over his back, soft, making him shiver, until it settles on his ass. Lando hears Oscar taking in a shaky breath behind him. Then his hand disappears and comes back down a second later. Lando gasps.

The first strokes come precisely but slowly, and Lando can sense that Oscar is holding back. He can almost feel his hesitation every time before he lets his hand fall down on Lando’s ass. Lando swallows down a small gasp. “You’re holding back,” he says, his voice muffled by the sheets beneath his head and strained. “Stop holding back, Oscar. I can take it.”

Oscar doesn’t say anything, and he stops moving for a second. Lando can only hear him breathing for a while. Until he’s hit by a sudden, harsh stroke to the area his thighs meet his ass and groans in surprise. “You’re not giving any orders here,” Oscar says, his voice suddenly very close to Lando’s ear, and Lando shivers at the authority in Oscar’s voice. He swallows down his urge to influence the situation and lets himself surrender to Oscar’s control.

“Yes, sir,” he gets out into the sheets, “I’m sorry.”

Oscar strokes over his ass softly. “Good boy,” he whispers, his voice low and dark.

The strokes start coming in quicker succession after that. And they get firmer. Lando doesn’t know how long Oscar is punishing his ass. He gets lost in the haziness of his mind. In the feeling of giving up control and handing it to Oscar. In his own whining and panting and occasional squirming.

Suddenly, he feels a stretch at his whole and lets out a surprised gasp. Oscar pushes a lubed finger inside of him, without much hesitation. “Remember how you asked me to fuck you three days ago?” he says, his voice even and confident. Lando can only gasp, the sudden sensation overwhelming him. His neglected cock hurts. “Still up for that?” Oscar asks and starts moving his finger inside of him. When Lando doesn’t answer, only pants into the pillow beneath him, another smack meets his ass, though it’s lighter this time. “Answer me,” Oscar commands.

Lando’s body gives up, and he falls down on the mattress.

“Fuck, yes, yes, please,” Lando gasps, clenching around Oscar’s finger inside him. Oscar strokes softly over where his hand had just met Lando’s ass. “Good boy.”

Oscar stretches him open, quick and efficiently, without much regard to Lando’s pleasure. Lando squirms and tries to rock his hips to get his fingers deeper inside him where he wants them, and chases friction at the same time. But Oscar is not having it. He lets his hand fall down on Lando’s ass again, sharper this time. “Stay still,” he says, unrelenting. Lando lets out a pathetic whine into the sheets beneath him but does his best to stay still.

Oscar already has three fingers inside him and scissors them, slowly, punitive. “You’re not going to come anyway,” he says, his voice low and rough. Lando is so caught in his own head, his haziness, that the remark just kind of slips by him, stays unacknowledged.

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” Oscar says with a deep voice. Lando nods into the sheets frantically. “Yes, please fuck me.”

Oscar pulls out his fingers, and Lando whines at the loss. He hears Oscar tearing open the package of a condom. Then Oscar’s hands are on his hips, pulling him up, so his dick isn’t buried in the mattress anymore, but hanging in the air, free to access.

Lando moans pathetically as Oscar’s hand appears on his dick, barely moving, just holding, claiming, while he slowly, deliberately pushes his dick inside of Lando.

He’s a little careful at first, waiting for Lando to adjust to it, but as soon as that happened, he sets a punishing pace.

Lando’s knees give in just once, at a particularly deep push, when Oscar’s dick meets just the spot inside of him, and he moans frantically. His dick is trapped out of Oscar’s reach now, buried between his body and the bed. Oscar stops moving immediately, and Lando whines desperately. “Get back up,” Oscar says, unrelenting. Lando whimpers but obeys. As soon as he managed to get his legs straight again, Oscar starts moving again, and the hand on his dick strokes him agonizingly slow.

Oscar doesn’t hit that sweet spot inside him again, and Lando grasps that Oscar won’t give him enough to make him come. And that making him come is by far not the point of the whole situation.

It takes Oscar only a couple more deliberate thrusts before he pushes deep inside, with a wrecked moan on his lips, and Lando realizes that he’s coming. The hand on his dick stops moving as Oscar comes.

He feels Oscar bending down over him, and he leaves a couple of open-mouthed kisses between his scapulae. Lando desperately tries to be strong, but he doesn’t manage. “Please,” he whispers into the pillow he’s still clinging to. “Please, sir, let me come.”

He feels Oscar smiling against his back. “No,” he whispers, low but final. Then he pulls out.

He leaves Lando empty and unsatisfied on the bed, while he retreats to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. Lando doesn’t dare to leave his position. He probably couldn’t even if he wanted, worked up as he is.

When Oscar comes back, a hand settles on Lando’s lower back. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispers, soft and caring. “Come on, lie down.”

Lando crawls up on the bed and flops down on it. Oscar pulls the blanket on top of him, before he settles down next to him and pulls Lando closer. Lando rests his head on Oscar’s chest, and Oscar presses soft kisses into his hair, his arm wrapping around him.

“Everything okay?” Oscar asks, just a hint of the uncertainty in his voice reminiscent of the Oscar he had been earlier that day. Lando nods against his chest. “Yes,” he whispers. “More than okay.” He pauses for a second. “And you?”

Oscar draws circles on his neck. “I hate to admit it, but I feel… good,” he says, his voice light, and Lando can hear him smile. He probs himself up on his arms and turns his head towards him. He kisses him, just once, but deep and passionately. “Good,” he whispers against his lips, before he lets himself fall back on Oscar’s chest.

Lando thinks that he has never felt this close to a person in his life. He feels like something just shifted between them. Something is hanging in the air now. Something deep and reassuring – something that feels safe.

And it changes something inside of Lando, releasing something that has been stuck there for the past week.

He doesn’t raise his head from Oscar’s chest when he speaks, can’t look at Oscar while he says what he is about to say.

“Daniel used to-” he swallows, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. “He used to spank me with a belt until-” he stops talking, can’t bring himself to say more.

“He didn’t even wait for me to fuck something up or to misbehave. He just did it whenever he felt like it.”

He fumbles with the hem of Oscar’s t-shirt.

“Mostly when I was better than him in races. Which happened quite a lot to be honest.”

Oscar sucks in a sharp breath. “Didn’t he- didn’t you communicate about boundaries? Or did he just-” Oscar stops for a moment, looking terrified. “He just didn’t care.” Lando finishes the sentence for him.

“To be fair, he put me down, which I needed and which I was grateful for. So I guess he just thought that that was what he got out of the whole thing.”

“Fuck, Lando why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve- I would’ve never–”

“What? Punish me in the way you needed to? That would’ve only led to you resenting me if I can’t give you what you need.” Lando pushes Oscar’s shirt up a bit, so he can let his fingers trace over Oscar’s stomach. “And you’re not Daniel. I know you would never do something to hurt me the way he did.”

He pauses to see if Oscar says anything, but Oscar remains silent. “And you didn’t. You did what you needed to, and probably what I needed as well. That’s entirely different from the Daniel situation.”

Oscar grips his hair in a way that makes him turn his head so he has to face him. Their eyes lock.

“I’m so sorry that- that he did this to you. He had no right.”

Lando shrugs his shoulders and looks away. Oscar looks at him in a scolding way and lays a hand beneath his chin. “No, don’t do that. He had no right, and you should be furious that he treated you this way. End of discussion.”

Lando doesn’t respond.

“Is that the reason why you were so keyed up all week? And the reason for your mood over the weekend? Because Daniel was there?”

Lando swallows, then nods slowly. “I mean, the race and the pressure added to it, probably. But I kind of expected Daniel to show up, because he lives here, and… The thought just made me very uneasy all weekend.”

“Baby, you really should’ve talked to me,” Oscar says, the pain audible in his voice. “Yeah, I know,” Lando murmurs, burying his nose in Oscar’s chest. “I just didn’t want to talk about it. Like I wasn’t ready to– admit that he treated me badly, I guess. I don’t want to be someone who gets treated like this.”

He lets his gaze wander over the moles on Oscar's face.

“And then when he talked to me on Friday… it just did something to me. Like my whole headspace was completely fucked up afterwards. Honestly, I don’t know how I managed to race on Sunday without crashing into the first wall.“

Oscar strokes his back slowly. “It’s why you got so drunk on Sunday night, right?”

Lando nods again. “Yeah, it’s like the only coping mechanism I know.” He pauses for a second. “Well, knew I guess. Everything we did over the past hours really eased something in me.”

He feels Oscar smiling against his hair. “So no more alcohol escapades next time?”

Lando presses a kiss to his chest. “I can’t promise, but I will try to talk to you instead next time.”

“I’ll take that for now.”

After they just lay there a while, Oscar starts talking again.

“I don’t want you talking to Daniel anymore. When he comes to another race or contacts you any other way, you will ignore him and come to me instead.”

Lando smirks at him playfully. “Just an hour ago, you were scared of fulfilling a Dom-cliche. And look what has become of that now.”

Oscar grimaces as if in pain. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I know you just want to protect me.”

Oscar moves his hand from Lando’s back up to his neck.

“I do. I want to protect you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you ever again.”

Something warm settles in Lando’s chest. He feels oddly cozy with Oscar’s arm around him and his ass burning dimly and the beautiful things Oscar says and his cock aching just a bit from being denied to come. He curls up on the bed and pulls Oscar a little tighter.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make me come?” he whispers against Oscar’s neck, small and quiet, pushing his hips and his still half hard cock against him.

Oscar smiles. “Very sure.” he presses a kiss to Lando’s neck as Lando whines softly. “Sorry, baby.”

“No, it’s okay,” Lando answers after a while, burying his head in Oscar’s t-shirt. “Feels good,” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he grumbles it into the fabric.

 

Before they get in the car for Lando to drive Oscar to the airport, Oscar pushes him against the wall next to the elevator and kisses him hungrily. Lando whines into it, grinding his hips against Oscar’s, desperate for any kind of friction.

Oscar puts his hand in his dick and palms it through his pants.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Lando breathes into his mouth when their lips part for a second.

Oscar puts just a little bit of pressure on his dick and Lando closes his eyes as he lets his head fall back against the wall.

“It’s just two days, baby. I’ll see you in Spain on Wednesday night.” Oscar presses a soft kiss to his neck. Then he retreats just enough to be able to talk. Lando feels his warm breath on his neck as he speaks. “Do you promise to be a good boy until then?”

Lando bites back a whine. “Yes, sir,” he whispers. “I will be good. I want to be good for you.”

Oscar smiles at him, some deep satisfaction in his eyes.

“No touching yourself until I’m back with you. You’re not allowed to come, don’t even think about it.”

Lando can’t stop his lip from quivering as he lets out a whine at Oscar’s words. He didn’t think his dick could get any harder, but that was a false assumption. He risks a look into Oscar’s dark and hazy eyes, and it makes his body shiver. Oscar puts his hand away from his dick and grabs his shoulders instead, pulling him off the door. He presses the button for the elevator. Lando takes the time they have to wait for it to try to get a hold of the haziness of his mind and calm down his frustrated cock.

Oscar places his hand on top of Lando’s thigh firmly as soon as they get in the car and doesn’t take it away until they arrive. It’s way too close to his dick for Lando’s liking at makes him squirm in his seat more than once.

When they parked the car in the airport parking lot and got Oscar’s suitcase from the trunk, Oscar pulls him into a tight hug.
“See you on Wednesday,” he whispers into Lando’s ear. Before he pulls away, he turns his head to leave a light kiss on Lando’s temple.

Lando watches as Oscar walks toward the airport entrance.

In that moment, two days feel like an eternity for Lando. And he briefly wonders how he got himself into all of this.

Chapter 14: Spain 2025

Notes:

Uff, okay so somehow the Monaco Chapters stressed me out so much that I kind of fell into a writing slump or something??? Or maybe reality just caught up with me again – I just had a hard time putting this chapter together.
It was supposed to be a bit longer originally, but I couldn’t really get it together yet and I started to feel a bit stressed out about the fact that I still haven’t posted something for Spain, so I thought I would just post what is ready and then add another chapter hopefully next week.
I hope you enjoy it nonetheless, even though it’s a bit shorter than the last chapters.

Service note, because I mention this scene in the chapter: In Q3 Lando tried to get slipstream from Oscar as Oscar just finished a round, and Oscar called it “cheeky” on the radio.

- Tuesday (after Monaco) -

Lando [15:56]

Hey Osc

Oscar [16:02]

Hey Baby

How are you

Lando [16:03]

I’m okay

 

Oscar [16:05]

Why only okay?

Lando [16:10]

Cause you’re not here

Oscar [16:10]

Oh god, I’m gonna die

Lando [16:11]

Please don’t

How are you

Oscar [16:14]

Good. Had a meeting with Mark this morning.

Lando [16:15]

Aussies among themselves

Oscar [16:15]

Yeah we drank 10 flat whites and joked about the stupid British accent

Lando [16:17]

Hey, careful

Oscar [16:17]

Haha.

Lando [16:33]
I was wondering

Oscar [16:39]

Yes?

 

Lando [16:44]

You know we have to be at MTC on Monday morning next week

 

Oscar [16:45]

Yes I got the memo

 

Lando [16:57]

Well I planned on going back to Monaco on Sunday evening after the race

But that doesn’t really make a ton of sense

When I have to be in England on Monday

Kind of a detour to go to Monaco first

 

Lando [17:05]

Don’t you think?

Oscar [17:07]

Baby

Do you want to suggest that you could come to England with me after the race?

 

Lando [17:10]

Yeah

If that’s okay

Obviously I wouldn’t want to bother you

 

Oscar [17:11]

Yeah yeah. You always bother me.

I recall that I said I don’t want to hear this nonsense anymore.

Lando [17:14]

Sorry.

But for real

Would that be okay for you?

Oscar [17:17]

Of course Lan.

And you would want to sleep in my apartment?

Lando [17:22]

Yeah that was my idea

Oscar [17:22]

Okay great 🙂

Lando [17:24]

Who the fuck uses that emoji?

Oscar [17:31]

What’s wrong with it?

Lando [17:36]

Serial killer vibes

Oscar [17:38]

…

Okay.

Sure.

Got it.

 

I’m happy that you want to come to England.

Gonna take you apart in my bed.

Great imagination.

Lando [17:41]

Oh god.

Now you also sound like a serial killer.

Oscar [17:46]

Haha.

You can talk shit all you want

I know you’re thinking about it too.

Lando [17:51]

I think I just changed my mind.

I actually don’t want to come

Oscar [17:52]

Too late, you’re not getting out of this anymore.

I’m going to drag you on the plane with me if I have to.

 

- Wednesday -

Lando slightly shakes when he makes his way over to Oscar’s hotel room on Wednesday night. He just briefly dropped his suitcase in his own room, threw on a fresh t-shirt and joggers, and checked his hair in the bathroom mirror.

Even though he shivers at the thought of seeing Oscar in a second, he feels calmer and steadier than he has in weeks. His anxiety about racing can wait till tomorrow morning. Tonight, he can let Oscar be the only thing he focuses on.

Oscar texted him his hotel room number earlier. Unfortunately, his room is on the other side of the building and a floor above Lando’s. Lando briefly wishes them back to Monaco and his own bedroom, but with everything that happened last week, he thinks it might be good for them to spend some time in a different, unattached space.

He almost forgets to check if anybody’s watching him as he knocks on Oscar’s door.

Oscar opens the door, and their eyes meet. Oscar smiles and grabs his wrist to pull him into the room before Lando can even say anything. The door closes behind him, and he’s pulled close to Oscar’s chest.

He takes a deep breath, Oscar’s familiar smell slowly filling his nose. “Missed you,” he mumbles into Oscar’s hoodie. Oscar presses a kiss to his hair and wraps his arms around him tightly. “I missed you too, baby,” he whispers.

Lando stretches his face upwards and searches for Oscar’s eyes to get him to kiss him. Oscar takes the invitation and reaches down to bring their lips together in an urgent, wanting kiss. His hand slides up towards Lando’s hair as he slips his tongue into his mouth, that Lando opens willingly.

Lando notices with dread that Oscar’s tongue stroking over his, combined with the force of his hand in his curls, tugging just slightly, keeping him where he wants him, is enough to make his dick half hard. When Oscar pushes his hips forward, applying subtle pressure on him, Lando helplessly moans into his mouth. Oscar uses his unguardedness to bite down on his lower lip, and Lando feels him smile against his lips.

He's pulled back by Oscar’s grip in his hair and Oscar looks into his eyes. “Everything all right, baby?” he says, the smile not leaving his mouth.

Lando can only whine a little. The actions of Monday really left their mark. He had spent the last two days half desperate most of the time, thinking about Oscar’s lips on his cock, and trying not to be so pathetic to beg Oscar right away via texts to let him touch himself.

Looking at Oscar’s amused face, indicating he knows exactly what’s going on, kind of makes him want to die on the spot.

“How desperate are you?” Oscar asks, still smirking at him superiorly, but there’s something else mixed in his countenance now. “Don’t know what you mean,” Lando says, trying to be chill about it, but it comes out breathless. “Oh good,” Oscar says within a second and releases the pressure of his leg against Lando’s dick, accompanied by a wicked smile. Lando presses his lips together frantically and tries to hide a whine unsuccessfully. “Please,” he whispers, looking up at Oscar with a look that he hopes will convince him to give him what he needs. Oscar’s smile turns fondly. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you come later.”

Lando doesn’t know if he wants to sigh in relief or whine at the word ‘later’. Oscar strokes over his neck softly, and his face turns a bit more serious. “Can we talk for a minute first?”

Watching as Oscar’s face loses its blithe demeanour, Lando’s growing desperation subsides. “Sure,” he says, his voice steadying. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Oscar says. “Don’t worry.” He grips Lando’s hand, intertwines their fingers, and pulls him with him towards the bed.

“I’ve just been thinking a bit over the last two days.”

Lando doesn’t like his tone when he says that. It’s way too hesitant for his liking, and he groans in despair. “By this poin,t I think it would be good for us if we would just both abandon our brains completely.”

Oscar laughs and Lando tries to fake an earnest look. “Seriously, what’s all this thinking even good for?”

Oscar strokes over his shoulder softly. “Sorry,” he says, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Okay, okay, what have you been thinking about?”

Oscar sighs a little, and Lando rolls his eyes. “I just wanted to check in again if everything was fine what I did on Monday…” he starts hesitantly. “Oh god,” Lando cries out and buries his head in his hands. “We’re trapped in a vicious cycle,” he says. Oscar laughs but grabs Lando’s hands to pull them away from his face. “Can you please be serious for a minute? It doesn’t help my overthinking if you make fun of me.”

Lando tries to fake an apologetic look. “Okay, sorry. But honestly, it’s completely unnecessary.”

Oscar doesn’t look quite pleased with that response. “Lan, you don’t have to say this just because you think it’s what I want.”

“No really its-”

“Just tell me and I can change it next time,” Oscar interrupts him, rushed, as if he’s scared that if he doesn’t say all of it in time, Lando will storm out in an instant and never come back. Which is ridiculous, obviously.

“Osc, you don’t get it. I want you to do those things, I want you to take control.” The second Lando said it he’s embarrassed about what he just admitted. He feels his cheeks heating up and he lowers his gaze to the floor, nestling at his joggers.

 “As long as it’s not in public, of course, but you said that you’re not a fan of that stuff either, right?” He mumbles and looks back up at Oscar carefully.  “Actually, I think we might be pretty compatible in that sense.”

He breathes out all of the air stuck in his chest. “But other than that I– I want you to do those cliche Dom things that people apparently do in their dynamic relationship. It feels good. I’m sick and tired of running away from the sub in me. And I trust you to do it in a way that won’t overwhelm me.”

Oscar looks at him with a weird, soft glimmer in his eyes.

“Tell me again at what point you became the more mature one in this relationship?” Oscar says and brushes over Lando’s cheek affectionately. Lando leans into the touch. His heart pounds crazily at Oscar calling it a relationship. “I grew bored of always just letting things happen to me. Maybe I needed that to speak up about what I actually want.” He lays his hand on top of Oscar’s, still brushing over his cheek. “And I want this,” he says, locking their eyes.

Oscar takes in a deep breath before he slips his hand towards the back of Lando’s neck, gripping softly but tightly.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Just promise me to talk to me if anything becomes too much.”

“Osc, no offence, but I had some pretty shit experiences with other doms. Compared to them, you’re a huge softy, so I hardly think that you could do anything that would really scare me off.”

Oscar squeezes down tighter on his neck, making Lando squirm uncomfortably.

“A softy, huh?” he murmurs, his voice quiet and dropping to the familiar, darker tone. Lando knows he’s doing him a favour by ignoring what he said about his experiences with other doms.

Lando looks up at him through his lashes and smiles shyly. “What was that again about making me come tonight?” Lando says, smirking up at Oscar cheekily, challengingly.

“Oh, I will, you little menace,” Oscar says, answering Lando’s cheeky smile with a dark one that makes Lando’s dick twitch in his pants. He places his hand on Lando’s chest and pushes him down on the bed.

“You’re lucky you have to race this weekend, and I have to be careful with you,” he whispers, and Lando shivers. “But I won’t be careful on Sunday night, when I have you all to myself in my apartment.” His hand roams over Lando’s body on top of his t-shirt, hovering over his nipples for a moment, before he reaches down between Lando’s legs and squeezes. Lando lets out a shaky whine. Keeping his hand on Lando’s dick, Oscar bends down and kisses him.

He pulls back, grabs the hem of Lando’s shirt, and pulls it over his head. Then he pushes Lando back down on the mattress.

“Have you been a good boy since Monday?” Oscar asks between open-mouthed kisses along Lando’s chest. He stops at Lando’s right nipple and lets his teeth scrape over it, making Lando whine uncontrolled. “Lando, focus,” he says, lifting his mouth from his nipple only briefly. “Answer me,” he demands, before he lowers his mouth to Lando’s skin again. Lando’s lips quiver as he moans about Oscar's commanding tone.

“Yes,” he breathes out, “yes, ‘ve been good.”

“Really?” Oscar says, shifting to his other nipple and repeating the sweet torture. “You didn’t touch yourself? Not even once?”

“No, I promise,” Lando whines. “Wanted to– Thought about it– But wanted to be good for you.”

He can feel Oscar moan against his pec, how it vibrates on his skin, and it makes something in him very satisfied. With a jolt, Oscar comes up and presses his lips to Lando’s, hungry and wanting. “God, you don’t even know how incredible that sounds,” he whispers, breathless, against Lando’s lips. “You have no idea what it does to me when you say that.”

He kisses his way over his jaw and his neck down to his collarbone. “How do you want to come?” he mumbles against Lando’s skin.

Lando moans. “With you inside me,” he says without a second thought. He feels Oscar’s chuckle against his skin. “Not today, baby. Quali in two days, remember?”

“I should find a different job,” Lando says, distracted by Oscar’s mouth on his body.

Oscar lands a light slap against his hip. “You should tell me how you want to come, before I change my mind and decide that I want to make you suffer a bit longer.”

Lando whines at the threat. He thinks he might die if he doesn’t get to come right now. “Please no.”

“Then tell me what to do.”

“Want your mouth,” Lando gasps out, his head flicking to the side in his despair. “And-” he breaks off, too embarrassed to say it out loud. Oscar glares at him and places a hand on his neck. He squeezes just a little bit, just enough to make it clear that he won’t allow Lando to hide what he wanted to say, his thumb hovering over the hollow just below Lando’s adam's apple. “Tell me.”

Lando whines and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Want your hands on my–  on my nipples. Please.” Oscar looks at him with that dark, wanting glimmer in his eyes. “As you wish,” he says, a slick smile on his face. He bites down on Lando’s lip, just once, but sharply. “No hands in the way, is that clear?” he murmurs and disappears out of Lando’s sight. He doesn’t wait for an answer before he lowers his head towards Lando’s cock.

Apparently, just because he promised to make Lando come doesn’t mean he’s not going to torture him further. He takes his time, letting his tongue stroke over his cock multiple times, sucking his balls, and teasing the spot between his balls and his rim. All the while he keeps his hands glued to his nipples, teasing, stroking over them, twisting and sometimes pinching. He currently licks over the tip of his cock in a way that is just not quite enough for what feels like the hundredth time, when Lando breaks. “Please, Oscar,” he whimpers, “please.” Oscar puts his mouth around one of his balls and sucks a little. Lando arches his back, pressing into Oscar’s mouth, and his hands that keep torturing his nipples. He feels like he might start crying if he doesn’t get more soon.

“Please, sir, please. I’ve been good. I waited for you to make me come. Please. Please take my cock in your mouth, I need it. I need you.“ Maybe Oscar gets tired of his whining, maybe it was just what he wanted to hear. Lando doesn’t care what it is, when Oscar drops his balls and finally takes his cock into his mouth.

He stays at the tip for a moment, swirling his tongue around, before he sinks down and makes Lando whimper helplessly again as his cock hits the back of Oscars throat.

Suddenly, Oscar’s mouth leaves his cock that falls back against his stomach unsatisfied. Oscar's hands don’t leave his nipples. He continues to twist them between his fingers. “Have you tried nipple clamps before?” he asks with a casualness as If he asked what Lando’s favourite sort of ice cream was. Lando’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head frantically. “I have a pair at home,” Oscar says, his voice just a little rough. “Do you think you would enjoy that?” Lando can’t keep his eyes open. He lets them flutter closed and moans softly. Oscar breaths out a smile. “Thought so,” he says, his voice even and dangerous.

Luckily, he lowers his mouth back on Lando’s cock, taking him in all at once this time, which makes Lando gasp.

Oscar moves his head just a couple of times while he continues to squeeze and twist both of Lando’s nipples until Lando comes with a soft cry on his lips. After the two days he spent unsatisfied and wanting, unable to do anything about it, it’s a relief on a different level. Oscar swallows all of his cum and holds him in his mouth until Lando softens, and the cries out of bis mouth have reduced to soft whimpers. Then, he lies down next to him.

Even though Lando enjoyed every second of what had just happened, and he’s always mesmerized by Oscar in his dom-mode, he’s happy to have the normal Oscar back. The version of Oscar that can be sickeningly sweet and caring and careful and currently wraps an arm around him to pull him close, pressing soft kisses against his neck.

“Everything okay?” he whispers against his neck. Lando puts a hand on Oscar’s arm around him, squeezing slightly. “I think I’ve never felt better,” he says, a deeply satisfied smile on his lips. “You’re such an exaggerator,” Oscar laughs.

“Want me to make you come?” Lando asks. Oscar buries his head in his shoulder. “I’m good,” he says. “Might have jerked off this morning to the thought of you being all desperate in your stupidly huge bed in your rich people apartment.”

Lando can’t hold back a laugh. “Oh god, who would’ve thought Oscar Piastri was so simple-minded after all.”

Oscar grins and pulls Lando’s head to him so he can meet his lips. “Shut up.”

 

- Friday -

Friday, before they have to head to the grid, Lando comes out of the shower in black trousers and a black shirt, before he drops back down on the bed next to Oscar, who is already ready, and starts scrolling through his phone.

Oscar furrows his brows at him. “Isn’t that my shirt?” he says in a tone of realisation and probs himself up on one arm. Lando averts his gaze and keeps looking at his phone. “Might be,” he mumbles.

Oscar smirks a little. “Did you forget to pack your own?”

“Yeah,” Lando says, not exactly interested in turning this into a serious conversation. “Just accidentally forgot to pack enough black t-shirts. Luckily, you have an abundance of them cause that’s literally all you wear.”

“That’s not entirely fair, I wore different stuff recently.”

Lando sits on top of his lap and wraps his arms around Oscar to pull him close,r and starts kissing him.

Oscar lets him have it for a moment but pulls away after a while. “Why exactly are you wearing my shirt again?” His voice carries the amusement his face suggests. Lando rolls his eyes and tries to get off Oscar’s lap again, but Oscar’s grip around his waist firms at his attempt and he pulls him closer, squeezing his ass a little and making Lando gasp. “Answer me,” Oscar says with his voice a tone darker than before. Lando escapes a whine even through his clenched lips.

“I don’t know,” he whines, shifting a bit in Oscar’s lap. “It just feels good.” He starts nestling with the fabric of Oscar's shirt at the shoulder. “Feels good how?” Oscar says, not letting him escape that easily. Lando sighs, accepting that he won’t be able to get out of this. “It just calms me to- kind of- wear your stuff. But your hoodies are all screaming Oscar Piastri. Your shirts are more public-safe.” Oscar still looks at him questioningly.
“I just wanted to have a reminder that this thing between us exists, like, when you’re not right there.”

He watches as Oscar bites his lip a little. “That’s sweet,” he says, and Lando shrugs. He can feel his cheeks heating up, and he wants to bury his face somewhere so Oscar can’t look at him anymore.

“I would also offer to mark your whole body if that helps,” Oscar says, already brushing his lips against Lando’s neck, his voice slightly rough. Lando moans a little. “Out of pure altruism, I suppose?” he says, trying to make it sound teasing, but it only comes out weak and shaky. “Not very public proof as well though, I have to undress multiple times throughout a race weekend,” he adds.

Oscar puts a hand in his neck, heavy and firm.

“Maybe I will forbid you to undress in front of other people,” Oscar whispers into his ear, softly brushing his lips over it, his warm breath making Lando squirm.

“Maybe that’s something I will claim for myself. Only I am allowed to see those parts of your body.” Lando shivers at the thought. He sees that Oscar must’ve noticed, because he smiles a satisfied smile.

“You enjoy this way too much,” Lando says and pouts playfully. 

Oscar shrugs and smiles a small, sweet smile. “Maybe give me a heads-up next time, though, so I can bring more shirts.” Lando hides his face in Oscar’s neck.

 

- Saturday -

Lando is the first to arrive back at the hotel after Qualifying.

He showers and dresses in sweatpants and one of Oscar's hoodies that’s already lying around in the room. Then he sprawls out over the bed and starts watching something on his phone, eager for Oscar to arrive and provide him with something to do.

When Oscar finally arrives, he smirks when he sees Lando in his hoodie on the bed. Their eyes lock, and Lando shrugs his shoulders at him. “You have no idea how adorable you are, right?” Oscar say,s and Lando rolls his eyes and lets himself fall back on the mattress.

He hears how Oscar drops his backpack in the corner of the room and comes towards the bed. He climbs on top of him, grips his chin, soft but determined, and kisses him. Lando moans into the kiss and pulls Oscar closer by his waist, but Oscar retreats. “Have to shower first.”

Lando lets out a playful groan, and Oscar laughs.

When Oscar comes back out of the shower, dressed just in fresh boxers and still ruffling his hair with his towel, he smiles at Lando with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“That was cheeky what you did there at your first round in Q3,” he says and searches through his suitcase for a shirt Lando hasn’t occupied yet.

“Trying to get slipstream to gain an advantage over me.” He turns and looks at Lando, who in turn looks up from his phone. He tries to smile apologetically, but he knows it doesn’t really work. “Sorry, I guess.“

“Hm,” Oscar hums, as if he’s thinking about it. “I’m not sure if you really are sorry.” He drops the clothes he picked out on the end of the bed and fixes Lando with his stare.

“Well, I guess I could just let it slip. I beat you to it in the end.” Lando suppresses his impulse to roll his eyes at Oscar and tries to make his gaze look as guilty as possible, even though he’s really not sorry at all. He wants to play along.

“But I don’t know if I want you to get away with it that easily.”

Lando shivers at the authoritative tone in his voice, even though he knows Oscar is not really upset with him about it.

“Maybe I can make it up to you,” he responds and looks up at Oscar through his lashes.
Oscar’s gaze is still unrelenting. “You can try for sure.”

All of a sudden, Lando is just a little glad that he didn’t end up in pole after qualifying, because he doesn’t know how this situation would’ve played out if he had remained faster than Oscar with that round. Even though he knows Oscar would never bring something that happened during racing into their private relationship.

He sits up on the bed and leans forward a bit.

“Please, sir,” he whispers, and tries to make his voice sound as submissive as possible. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

He sees how Oscar tries to suppress a smirk and his growing arousal at the same time.

“Get up here,” he says and nods his head towards the space in front of him. Lando obeys and gets up from the bed and stands in front of Oscar. He has an impulse to touch Oscar, to throw his arms around him, but he forces himself to keep his hands to himself. “On your knees,” Oscar says, and his voice deepens.

Lando feels like a stone, the way he drops down instantly at Oscar's command. Oscar fists a hand in his hair, and Lando moans at the tension. “Pull my boxers down,” Oscar commands, his voice rough and low. Lando whimpers slightly but obeys. He gasps when Oscars already fully hard dick comes appears. He’s on the verge of saying something teasing, like ‘you really don’t need much these days’, but it probably wouldn’t be the smartest decision considering he’s already kind of in a compromising position. So he swallows it down.

Oscar’s grip in his hair is still firm and doesn’t allow him to move his head. “Hands behind your back,” Oscar says. Lando obeys and presses his fists into the soft fabric of Oscar’s hoodie. Slowly, Oscar moves his head towards his cock but keeps him at a centimetre distance. “Use your tongue,” he says, and now his arousal is audible in his voice. It makes Lando preen. He opens his mouth and swirls the tip of Oscar’s cock with his tongue. He can see through his lashes that Oscar closed his eyes, his mouth slightly opened, and he’s breathing hard. He looks fucking perfect.

It motivates Lando to keep him like that. He does his best to make Oscar lose his fucking mind.

When Oscar finally loosens his grip in Lando’s hair just a little bit, and Lando can push a bit forward and close his lips around the tip of Oscars cock, he hums softly, making his mouth vibrate around Oscar’s cock. The moan that escapes Oscar is everything, and Lando closes his eyes at the sensation that goes through his body.

Oscar's grip in his hands remains firm, only providing him with the illusion of control, but keeping him exactly where he wants him. And he really makes Lando work for it before he lets him go down fully on his cock. He draws out his own orgasm to make his dominance radiate through the atmosphere of the room. The whole time, Lando keeps his hands behind his back, gripping one wrist with the other hand, to make sure he doesn’t accidentally reach forward to palm the bulge in his own pants. He’d rather not experience again what happens when he makes Oscar in dom-mode angry by misbehaving.

Lando kind of expects Oscar too pull his head off his cock before he comes. But he goes through with it, keeps Lando’s head in a firm grip on his cock, making Lando swallow. It makes Lando’s heart race and his head all hazy.

Oscar still doesn’t release his head when he pulls him off his soft cock. He pulls his head back, making him look up at him, and fixes his eyes for a moment. Lando gasps a little when he’s met with the dark look in Oscar's eyes, slightly glossy and full of something warm and affectionate. He whimpers slightly, longing for Oscar.

Oscar bends down, his grip still unrelenting, and kisses him, devours his mouth, pushes his tongue inside, messy and demanding. Before he releases him, he bites down on his lip, making Lando whine quietly.

“God, the things you do to me, Lando Norris,” he whispers. Lando smiles, tired but satisfied. And happy.

Chapter 15: Spain 2025 resumption

Notes:

Uff, why did this take me forever to finish???
I feel really bad for not updating consistently at the moment, but somehow life just happens, I guess, and I think I have too many hobbies because I literally don't find the time for writing atm.
I will try to update more frequently again, but I also don't want this to become something that pressures me...
We will see how it goes.

- Sunday -

After podium, and after they took the McLaren team picture and got champagne-showered - again - Oscar showers in his driver’s room. Afterwards, he walks over to Lando’s and knocks on the door, to find out Lando is nowhere to be seen.

He searches the whole McLaren motorhome, and when he can’t find him anywhere, steps out to walk over the paddock in search of his sub.

When he passes the Williams' garage, he sees a splash of papaya in the corner of his eye and walks up towards the entrance. He can hear Lando’s and Carlos’ voices from afar.

He walks closer, planning on just checking in with Lando, asking when he will be ready to leave. But something inside him makes him step aside to the corner of the entrance, where he’s hidden from their sight by a wall. He does feel a little silly about it, hiding like a kid spying on his parents. 

It’s just to check if Lando’s alright, he tells himself. Nothing wrong with wanting to know what he’s doing and what they are talking about, without full-on crashing their conversation. He doesn’t really buy it himself, though.

“You sure you don’t want to join us for the after party?” he hears Carlos asking. “Come on, we had so much fun in Monaco last week, no? And who knows when we get the chance again to do something together.”

Flickers of the night in Monaco a week ago appear before Oscar’s eyes. He can’t really imagine that night could’ve been fun for anyone. Oscar briefly feels fear creeping up his stomach that Lando will agree with Carlos after all, and he has to go back to England alone. Or worse, watch him get drunk again.

“Oh, uh, no, sorry mate. I was kind of out of it last week after Monaco, I don’t need that again so soon.” He can hear them both laugh, and Oscar breathes out in relief.

“Also, I promised Oscar to fly with him to England, and I'm not going to cancel on him.”

Oscar is not sure how to feel about Lando mentioning him and their plans to Carlos. It feels weird, Lando talking about him with one of his friends. So far, they had kept everything that happened between them to themselves.

“What is going on there anyway?” he hears Carlos ask, and his stomach clenches.

“Uhm,” he can practically hear Lando blush about the question and smiles a little to himself, thinking about how cute it is when Lando gets all embarrassed and blushes.

“Nothing, really… we’re just good friends.”

He hears Carlos humming sceptically. “Like, we're just getting along really well at the moment, and we're just rolling with it, you know?”

It’s silent for a moment before Carlos speaks up again.

“Are you sure that Oscar would say the same?” Oscar furrows his brow at that.

“What do you mean?” Lando asks, his voice even and unshaken, which relaxes Oscar.

Carlos’s voice sounds a lot more serious now.

“I mean, I was pretty drunk last week as well, but the way he looked at you… I don’t know, mate.” Oscar hears someone shouting something from the back of the garage. Williams engineers pass him on their way to pack up their stuff and nod at him, acknowledging. He feels like a spy in a James Bond movie, ready to be discovered every minute and to take a flight.

“And didn’t he bring you home at some point?” Carlos asks, his tone on the edge of derogating. It makes something in Oscar’s stomach heat slightly. Who does Carlos think he is? What gives him the authority to question how Lando and he behave around each other? What makes him think that Oscar isn’t good for Lando?

Lando seems to ponder an answer, and it takes him a while before he raises his voice again.

“Maybe he just cares a bit more about other people than you do,” he suggests in a light-hearted, teasing way. it is obvious that he is trying to take the tension out of the conversation. Oscar hears Carlos laughing.

“I mean I don’t want to tell you how to treat your friendship, just – maybe take care that Oscar doesn’t get too into it? Sometimes he seems just a little obsessed with you.” Now Oscar is the one to blush. Apparently, he really needs to work on the way he’s acting around Lando, after first Max mentioning it last week and now Carlos doing the same to Lando.

When Lando answers, Oscar can hear from his tone that he smiles that sweet, shy Lando-smile, and it makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“No worries, Carlitos, really. Oscar and I are completely on the same page.”

Oscar smiles to himself, satisfied with the outcome of his espionage. He leaves his spot outside the Williams garage, careful not to be spotted by Lando and Carlos, and heads back to the McLaren motorhome.

 

He waits for Lando on the top floor lounge of the motorhome, just in front of his driver’s room. When he finally arrives, still dishevelled from the celebration and looking a little bit tired but happy, Oscar can’t fully suppress the stupid grin that just appears on his face when he meets Lando’s eyes.

“What are you all smiling about?” Lando asks, returning the smile but looking slightly confused. “Nothing,” Oscar says, but he knows the grin on his face will give him away. He stands up and walks towards Lando, who is about to enter his driver’s room. He stops right in front of him and leans down, so he can whisper into Lando’s ear, safe from all other ears who might still be rummaging around in the seemingly empty motorhome. “Just excited to finally tie you to my bed and take you apart.”

He watches as the smile vanishes from Lando’s face when he swallows.

“I just need to shower quickly and then we can leave,” he says, his voice trembling just slightly. Oscar grins wickedly. “Don’t make me wait too long,” he whispers, just as quiet as before, then turns around and gets back in his seat to wait for Lando to be ready.

 

---

 

They fly to England on a private jet, alone, without other McLaren people, because they wanted to avoid questions about why Lando is spending the night at Oscar’s instead of going home to Monaco. They had decided that the extra expenses for their own private jet were worth it for them.

The jet has a private room with a door that can be locked, so the staff can’t have access to it. But Oscar doesn’t find the courage to drag Lando inside and fuck him in there.

As he sits in his seat across from Lando, watching him trying to stay awake, his head falling to the side and jerking back up again and again, his thoughts don’t stop drifting towards how much he wants to offer him his shoulder to rest his head and fall asleep on. How much he would like to be able to do that, or drag him to the private space without having to fear that somebody will tell on them and their secret slipping out.

But he contents himself with the fact that if things develop the way he wants them to, they will have plenty of time to join the mile high club together.

It’s raining when they arrive in England. Of course it is. Luckily, they get shuttled from the airport directly to the parking garage, where Oscar's McLaren waits for them.

Lando doesn’t talk much on the way to the car. His unsuccessful attempt at sleeping left him kind of grumpy. Oscar doesn’t bother, though, he thinks it’s cute. The only thing that bothers him is that he can’t wrap an arm around him and guide him softly through the garage. Even though there seems to be no one but them in the whole building, the risk of being watched is too big.

Something tense leaves his body the minute they get in the car, and he can plant his hand on Lando’s thigh, gripping possessively. Lando huffs quietly next to him, looking down on his hand and then up at him with a mocking glint in his eyes. Oscar holds his gaze and grips his thigh a little tighter. “What?” he says. “I’ve been wanting to do that the whole flight.”

Lando grins and looks through the windshield. “Fucking cliché,” he says. Oscar can’t suppress a grin himself. “I’d be a bit more careful with that attitude if I were you,” he says, nonetheless. “You’re going to be at my mercy all night. I’m sure I can find a better use for that mouth.” Lando shivers, and Oscar leans back in his seat, satisfied.

He starts the engine and drives out of the garage.

He pulls onto the highway, and they drive towards his apartment in comfortable silence, both dwelling on their own thoughts. Whenever he doesn’t need two hands for driving, Oscar puts his hand back on Lando’s thigh.

“Thanks for the ride, mate,” Lando says, jokingly, when Oscar parks the car in the garage of his apartment building and switches off the engine.

“My pleasure,” Oscar responds, leaning towards him slightly. “Even though I think I prefer it when you do the driving. I don’t like it when I have to pull my hand off your leg to do something unnecessary like steering.”

Lando looks at him with a smug smile and a mock irritated expression on his face. “Since when are you so possessive?” he asks, his eyes locking with Oscar’s. Oscar lays a hand underneath his chin, pulling him towards him slightly. “Since you’re my sub,” he whispers, his voice rough and his breath brushing over Lando’s lips.

“Don’t like it?” he asks, mockingly, because he knows the answer already. He wants to hear it anyway. Lando swallows, and it makes something inside Oscar flutter excitedly. “I can’t tell you how much I like it. You will just get all conceited.”

Oscar smiles warmly and brushes over Lando’s cheek with his thumb. “Come on, let’s go inside so I can kiss you senseless.”

God, he loves to make Lando shiver like that.

 

---

 

When they enter Oscar’s flat, Lando fends off Oscar’s attempts to press him against the wall in the hallway and make good of his words by vigorously demanding an apartment tour.

Oscar pulls his hands off him with a sigh. “There’s actually not that much to see,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He kicks off his shoes and leads them through the hallway. His flat is significantly smaller than Lando’s. He moved in here in his rookie season, mainly because it was near the McLaren HQ, and he hadn’t found a good reason yet to move somewhere else, even though he could afford a better flat by now easily. He didn’t even have to rent one, he could buy one. Two. But why the fuss?

“Bedroom is to the left,” he says, pushes the door open, and shoves his suitcase into the room, reaching for Lando’s a second later to do the same with his.

Lando leans against the doorframe and takes a look around the room. “Smells like you,” he says after a while, softly. A stupid grin steals itself on Oscar’s face. He continues to walk through the hallway. “Kitchen,” he says, pointing to the door next to the bedroom. “In case you want to cook one of the three things you can cook,” he says and smirks at Lando, who rolls his eyes. Oscar wants to do something to stop him, but he makes himself finish the apartment tour first. He’ll have all night to teach Lando some manners.

“Bathroom and storeroom,” he says, pointing to two doors next to each other, before he turns to the other side of the hallway, pushes open the remaining door, and walks through it. “And that’s my living room,” he says, leaning against the back of the couch in the middle of the room, facing the entrance where Lando stands in the doorway.

Oscar takes a second to look around the room himself. Compared to Lando’s flat, with the glamorous view over the Mediterranean and the three sofas and the insanely huge dining table, it almost embarrasses him a little bit. He only owns an unimpressive couch, a TV, a small table with four chairs, a single bookshelf with not that many books, and a sim racing equipment shoved into one corner of the room. When he looks back at Lando, he’s met with a bright smile.

As if he noticed his insecurity, Lando walks towards him and strokes over his arms, until he reaches his hands and entangles their fingers. “I like it,” he says, looking around the room. “It’s very you.”

Oscar looks at him. “What, dull and simple?” he says with a smile on his lips. Lando laughs. “I wanted to say cosy yet profound, but sure, dull and simple works as well.”

Oscar grins and pulls him closer by his hands to kiss him. “Satisfied with the apartment tour?” he whispers against his lips. Lando hums affirmatively. “Have to take a closer look at your bedroom, I think,” he says with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

“Careful what you wish for.” Oscar releases his hand from Lando’s to lay it on his hip instead. “I’m not sure if I can ever let you out again once I have you in there.”

Lando grins. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Oscar wraps both arms around his hips, pulling him closer, pressing their lips together. Lando lets his tongue in without any resistance, and Oscar takes his time claiming his mouth.

He pushes off the back of the couch, his hands on Lando’s shoulders, and starts pushing him back, softly and carefully, navigating him backwards through the apartment, until they reach his bedroom. He places Lando in the middle of the room, kisses him again, presses his thigh against Lando’s half hard dick, just to hear Lando moan softly into the kiss. Then he takes a step back.

“Everything off,” he says, looking at Lando expectantly.

Lando complies instantly, even though his cheeks visibly heat a little. He pulls his shirt above his head and throws it on his suitcase, which still stands next to the door where Oscar put it minutes ago. His pants follow, and Oscar is a little proud when he doesn’t even hesitate to pull his boxers off, too. It’s thrilling to see just how much Lando trusts him by now.

He gives himself a second to take in the image. Lando Norris, fully naked, standing in his bedroom that looked more like the bedroom of a college kid than that of a Formula One driver with a million-dollar salary. It’s an exhilarating thought.

He wants to put his hands all over Lando’s body, claim all of it as his. But he also wants Lando begging for him to touch him, starved for his touch.

He walks closer, watches as Lando already pants slightly. He lays a hand in the centre of his chest and pushes him back on the bed. Lando gives in easily and falls back on the mattress. Oscar steps right in front of the foot of the bed, looking down at Lando, predatory. “Lie down in the middle, eyes towards the ceiling,” he commands, and Lando shifts obediently, until he lies just where Oscar told him to.

Oscar walks around the bed to the headboard.

He reaches under the mattress and pulls out what he hid there last week before he left for Spain. He reaches for Lando’s arm, wraps a hand around his wrist, and pulls it towards him. Lando doesn’t resist. Oscar closes the cuff that is attached to the strap around Lando’s wrist. The other end of the strap is secured at the bedframe. Oscar reaches for the integrated adjustment aid and pulls it taught.

When Lando realizes that he is getting tied to the bed, he instantly pulls at the cuff around his wrist to test the give. Oscar smiles with satisfaction when he sees that the restraints don't give a bit.

“Holy shit,” Lando mutters under his breath, obviously trying to keep his cool.

“Colour out if you need to,” Oscar says and fixes Lando’s gaze to let him know that he means it.

Lando nods, almost imperceptibly, and returns Oscar’s gaze. Oscar gives him a small smile before he walks around the bed to secure his other arm. After that, he ties his legs to the corners at the end of the bed.

When he’s finished, he positions himself before the foot of the bed, looking down at Lando, who looks at him helplessly, still pulling at his restraints to see if they will give in.

“Some rules before we start,” Oscar says, his voice low. He watches Lando shiver in his restraints at his words.

“You are not going to come without my permission. You will ask first like a good boy and hope that I will allow it.”

The small moan breaking from Lando’s lips enlightens something inside him.

“And while we’re at it,” he says, while he climbs on the bed between Lando’s spread legs, stroking over his thigh. “From now on, you are not allowed to touch yourself without my permission outside of scening.” Lando swallows. “You can always try to ask me, if you’re that desperate,” he adds, moving his hand that is stroking over Lando’s thigh dangerously close to his cock, but refrains from touching it yet. “But there’s no guarantee that I will give you permission.”

He watches with elation how Lando already tries to move against the restraints, tries to get his dick closer to Oscar’s hand. “Is that clear?” he asks, pinching the soft skin on the inside of Lando’s thigh just a little, just enough to get him to focus. Lando whimpers softly. “Yes, sir,” he whispers. Oscar smiles a satisfied smile. “Good boy,” he says, stroking over where he just pinched Lando’s thigh.

He gets back up again and takes a second to look at Lando, spread out on his bed, tied at all fours, unable to move, and helpless. Fully at Oscar’s mercy. Arousal shoots through him and he can’t keep himself from palming his dick through his pants. He looks down on Lando, realizes he’s watching him.

“That’s not fair,” Lando whines, looking at Oscar’s hand where he touches himself. Oscar smiles a little smile that sits on the edge of being mean. He walks up towards the head of the bed, grips Lando’s chin, and pulls him into a messy kiss. “You don’t decide what’s fair,” he says when he pulls back, his hand still holding Lando in place by his chin.

Lando pouts. Oscar lets go of his chin and takes a step back. “Don’t worry,” he says, “we’ll get there.” Then he turns around and walks towards the dresser that stands next to the door. Opens the first drawer and rummages through it for a second before he finds what he had been searching for. He shoves the nipple clamps into the pocket of his jeans and walks back to the bed, where he settles down next to Lando.

He lets his hand roam over his chest until he finds his right nipple and pinches it slightly. Lando makes a breathy sound, and Oscar watches as he pulls at the strings that hold his arm in place, as if he would like to shove Oscar’s hand away.

Oscar’s hand slides over to the other nipple, lingers a bit, circles, and pinches. Lando arches his back slightly and lets out a soft moan. Oscar smiles to himself about how easy it is to get him fully worked up today. Slowly, Oscar pulls the clamps out from his pocket. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers and looks deep into Lando’s eyes, to make sure he knows that Oscar means it. Lando looks at him confused, but nods.

Oscar twists Lando’s right nipple again before he lets the clamp close on it carefully. The reaction from Lando comes immediately. He whines and arches off the bed, squirming in his restraints, trying to get away from the pain. But Oscar also sees how his dick twitches and it reassures him that this is something Lando enjoys.

“Stay still,” he commands, and puts his hand in the middle of his chest to make him settle down. Lando closes his eyes and bites his lip, desperately trying to stop squirming. It’s adorable.

Oscar puts the other clamp on his left nipple. Lando let’s out a deep, guttural moan.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Oscar whispers and flicks at the clamps just slightly. Lando lets out a pained whimper. Oscar leans down to press his mouth on Lando’s and swallow his delicate whimpers. He strokes over Lando’s jaw fondly before he settles back between Lando’s spread legs.

He gives himself another second to stare at Lando, before he bends down to catch the tip of Lando’s cock between his lips.

He swirls his tongue around Lando’s dick thoroughly, until he’s sure Lando will start swearing at him any second if he continues, then he starts moving his head up and down, eliciting the most beautiful whimpers and moans from Lando. From time to time, he flicks against the clamps on his nipples and preens at the noises  Lando makes.

He continues like that until Lando goes silent, and Oscar just knows he is about to come soon. He pulls off immediately and moans softly at Lando’s desperate groan. “No, please,” Lando whimpers. Oscar presses a kiss to Lando’s hip, right next to his dick and watches as Lando shivers from arousal and desperation.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “I plan on making you come. Just not in my mouth,” he grins at Lando, who looks up at him with confusion in his eyes. Keeping his smile, Oscar gets down from the bed and pulls his shirt over his head. His pants and boxers come off next.  

How Lando’s lip quivers as his fully hard dick comes in sight makes his heart flutter.

He grabs the lube from the nightstand and squirts some on his fingers. He can see how Lando shifts slightly at the sight.

“Sorry baby, that’s not for you,” he whispers and brings his fingers to his own ass slowly. He can see the realization coming to Lando in real time. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open when he understands what Oscar is planning to do. “Oh my god,” he breathes out, his voice hoarse. Oscar locks their eyes. “That okay for you?” he asks, even though Lando’s reaction practically told him everything he needed to know. “Fuck, yes,” Lando breaths out. “Just… are you sure?” he asks, seemingly hesitating. “Doms usually don’t-“ Oscar cuts him off. “Yeah,” he says, with finality. “I want to feel you inside me.” He stares into Lando’s eyes intently. “I want to watch you as you fall apart when I ride you.”

Lando makes a helpless little noise. “Fuck,” he whimpers. “Okay,”

Slowly, Oscar shoves a finger into his hole and lets out a small gasp at the stretch. Lando looks at him like he’s witnessing the resurrection. “Fuck,” he whimpers, visibly pulling at the restraints that keep him tied to the bed. Oscar breaths out a raspy laugh. “What, don’t like watching?” Lando only whines in response, pulling at the cuffs around his hands.

“Patience, baby,” he whispers, “you’ll be involved soon enough.” Lando throws his head back, his ignored cock twitching helplessly at the thought of being inside Oscar.

Oscar bows down, brings his head right next to Lando’s, so he can whisper in his ear. “Can’t wait to let you fill me,” he whispers and smiles at the choked noise Lando makes at his words.

“Are you going to be finished with torturing me at some point?” Lando says with a pout on his face, his voice just a little defiant but breathy.

Oscar looks at him scoldingly. “Careful, baby,” he says, watching Lando with a dangerous look. “I don’t have to make you come tonight.”

Lando’s lower lip quivers. “No, sir, please.” He squirms in his restraints. Oscar presses an open-mouthed kiss to his throat, scraping the skin with his teeth lightly. “Be good,” he adds, before he pulls back. Then he continues opening himself up.

He keeps Lando where he wants him, on the edge of going insane with arousal, by stroking his dick ever so often, or kissing along his inner thighs or his stomach, while he stretches himself by adding a second and a third finger slowly.

When Lando lets out a silent “Sir, please,” and closes his eyes in despair, he pulls his fingers out and reaches over to the nightstand to grab a condom.

He rolls it over Lando’s dick carefully, not able to suppress a smile when Lando shivers at every little touch. He adds a little more lube to his hole, before he crawls on top of tied-up Lando and positions himself right over his dick, the tip already brushing along his rim. Lando makes a beautiful, overwhelmed noise, as Oscar carefully lowers himself down on his dick. He ignores the slight pain he feels at the stretch in favour of hearing Lando’s helpless gasps and moans, as he drops down fully, all of Lando buried deep inside of him.

He starts moving, slowly, starts circling his hips and can’t help moaning himself as he takes his own dick in his hand and strokes himself softly.

He leans down, the shift in position making him clench around Lando’s dick. Oscar swallows Lando’s moans as he kisses him, hungrily, sucking his tongue into his mouth, biting down on his lower lip softly. He can feel Lando going all soft and limp as he kisses him and moves his hips. When he pulls back from the kiss, Lando looks at him with a pleading look in his eyes. “Please,” he says, barely more than a whisper.

“Please, what baby?”

Lando whines and closes his eyes.

“Please move.” Oscar loves it when Lando is begging him.

“I am moving,” he answers and circles his hips again in a way he knows must drive Lando completely mad, as if to prove a point.

Lando makes a desperate little noise that Oscar finds so beautiful.

“Please”, Lando whimpers again. Oscar looks at him expectantly. “Please ride me,” Lando finally says in a small voice. He turns his head to the side, as if he wants to hide his face from Oscar as he says it. Oscar is not sure if he has ever seen something as adorable as a tied-up Lando Norris, ashamed to ask Oscar to ride him properly.

He grips his chin and turns his face towards him again, gently but firmly. “Good boy, asking for what you want,” he whispers. And then he starts moving properly.

At this point, Lando is a whimpering, shaky, loose mess underneath him. He throws his head from side to side, moans escaping him completely uncontrolled as Oscar moves up and down on his cock. Oscar thinks he could spend forever watching him falling apart like this underneath him.

Unfortunately, Lando is too worked up to be able to endure the treatment for that long.
“Sir,” he whimpers, far too soon for Oscar’s liking, “can I come?” he asks. Oscar is about to tell him no, is about to tell him that he wants to enjoy him a little longer like this, soft, desperate, and fully at his mercy. But as Lando adds a soft and desperate little “please,” in a voice that Oscar is sure could persuade anyone, Oscar is not strong enough to deny him his orgasm further.
“Yeah, okay baby,” he breathes out. “You’ve been good, you’re my good boy,” he pants. “You can come.” And Lando almost instantly does.

Oscar stops moving and lays a hand on his own dick instead, stroking him hard and fast, until he comes. Weeks ago, he would’ve been embarrassed about coming all over Lando’s stomach like some cliché dom on a possessive streak. But not anymore. He accepts the warm feeling below his stomach as he watches himself coming right on top of Lando, and his heart bounces at the little noise Lando makes as it happens. 

Oscar stays right there for a few more minutes, Lando soft inside him, his face calm and relaxed and beautiful, Oscar's hands roaming over his hips caringly.

Then he lifts himself up slowly, his whole body aching a bit suddenly. He releases Lando from the restraints, removes the condom and the clamps carefully, and gets a washcloth from the bathroom to clean him up. Once he’s finished, he watches as Lando shifts on his side and curls up like a small cat. Oscar pulls the blanket on top of him and lies down behind him, and Lando instantly pulls his arm around him, clinging to it. “That was insane,” he whispers into the pillow next to him. Oscar smiles into his neck and presses a soft kiss to it. “Glad you liked it,” he whispers. Lando groans into the pillow. “Liked is an understatement,” he murmurs, and Oscar grins stupidly.

“Maybe we can try to get out of the thing at MTC tomorrow,” Lando murmurs. He sounds tired but satisfied. “Tell Zac we both got the flu or something.”

Oscar smiles softly and buries his nose in Lando’s neck. “And what would you want to do instead?” Lando presses closer to him. “I don’t know,” he says absentmindedly. “Just spend all day in bed. Preferably without any clothes. Watch a movie. Cuddle.” Oscar’s heart warms. “How about we do that next week in Monaco and fly to Canada together?”

Lando presses a kiss to Oscar’s arm on top of him. “Sounds good to me.”

 

Notes:

I am not sure myself what I think about this tbh, but I do like how they are just happy and cute with each other at the moment :)
Also, please excuse if there are mistakes in this. I didn't properly proofread it in the end, because I just wanted to finally post something again 😅

Chapter 16: Canada 2025

Notes:

I am just going to act like Canada was last week and not two months ago 😅. Very sorry for not updating consistently, but these two somehow didn’t resonate well with me for a while and I didn’t want this to become something I felt like I just had to do…
I am determined to continue being more consistent with this story now and hopefully finish it soon.
Also very sorry to remind us all of that horrible race – but in case you are so lucky that you somehow forgot, Canada was the one with the crash – Lando DNF and Oscar P4.
That being said, I hope you still enjoy reading about these two after it’s been a while.

Oscar comes over to Monaco on Tuesday.

They both agreed to get their workouts and everything else done before Oscar got on a plane, so they could spend all the time they had together just… well, together. And they do.

They end up in Lando’s bed the second they walk through the door, after Oscar gripped Lando’s thigh almost aggressively the whole way from the airport, until Lando looked at him dead-pan serious and told him he was such a fucking cliché and Oscar promised him to punish him for being a brat as soon as they would get home and Lando only laughed and said that he just completely proved him right. Oscar’s cheeks get just a little red after that, and maybe he loosens his grip a little bit, but he doesn’t withdraw his hand.

Oscar pushes Lando onto the bed, ties his hands to the bed because Lando isn’t allowed to touch, he is only allowed to take. He toys with his nipples for a while that feels like forever to Lando, twists and pinches, sucks and grazes his teeth other the tight little nubs, teases him relentlessly until Lando is practically sobbing, begging him to stop and bucking his hips up helplessly.

And when he’s satisfied with the amount of begging, Oscar opens Lando up agonizingly slowly, taking his sweet time alternating between thrusts of his fingers into Lando’s hole and kissing him senseless and taking his dick in his mouth lazily every once in a while. He continues until Lando is nothing but a whimpering mess, pliant and exhausted on the bed, begging Oscar to forgive how bratty he was in the car. Then he fucks into him, deep and thoroughly, and comes embarrassingly quickly because apparently, he did not only edge Lando with all of his teasing but himself as well.

He drops down on top of him afterwards, buries Lando’s painfully hard dick between their bodies. He ignores Lando’s whines and pleas to make him come. Kisses a line above his neck instead, like he has all the time in the world, before he falls on the mattress next to Lando and strokes him until he comes.

Oscar makes him lick it up from his hands afterwards, which is new and might be a stretch, but he feels possessed by how sweet and fucked out Lando is, and Lando wraps his tongue around his fingers too eagerly to make him second-guess himself.

 

They watch a movie afterwards, on Oscar's Laptop, lying in bed completely naked. Most of the time lying on their sides Lando tugged in close to Oscar's chest, his arm wrapped around his slightly smaller body. Oscar buries his nose in Lando's curls every now and then, taking a deep breath, until Lando flicks his head back in annoyance. It's a good day. 

 

- Sunday after the race -

Oscar is so exhausted after the race, he just falls onto the couch in his driver's room when he is finally allowed to leave after interviews. He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes and takes a deep breath. He thinks he hears a faint ringing in his ear. He tries to ignore it.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Oscar says and makes himself sit up on the couch. The door opens.

Lando’s face appears in the door. Oscar’s stomach clenches a little. For the last months, the moments after the race that Lando and him got to have alone with each other have always been the ones where he could let himself relax again. Seeing Lando’s face is usually the thing that makes him come back into his own body after a race, after belonging to the car and the team for hours. But after today… Oscar just doesn’t know how he will react.

They always knew it would come to this, that there would be a moment like this at least once throughout the season. Oscar thought he would have been prepared for the aftermath, but he most certainly wasn’t, he knows that now.

“Can I come in?” Lando asks, as if there was any chance that Oscar would say no.

“’Course,” Oscar says, and tries to give a comforting smile, but knows he doesn’t quite manage it.

Lando doesn’t look so happy about it, but he enters the room and closes the door behind him. He doesn’t move further. He stays by the door, leaning back against it, hands crossed behind his back. He doesn’t meet Oscar’s eyes. He keeps his gaze fixed on the floor.

Oscar sighs. “Lan,” he starts after a while, because he feels like somebody needs to say something. “Baby, I’m sorry-”

Lando’s head snaps up.

“You’re sorry?”

Oscar shrugs.

He’s not really sorry. He’s sorry that the situation happened, that Lando’s race had to end like that. He’s not sorry about the way he raced.

“Oscar, we both know it was not your fault.”

Oscar sighs. He doesn’t even really want to talk about it. He wishes they could just forget that the weekend happened and go back to the few days they had in Monaco. “I don’t know, maybe we-” he starts, but Lando cuts him off immediately.

“No, please stop. You don’t have to say any of that to make me feel better.”

Oscar doesn’t respond. He feels caught. That’s exactly what he was trying to do. Handling Lando as if he were a child.

“I fucked up. I almost cost you the race.”

Oscar looks up at him. He looks miserable. “Lan,” he starts again.

“I definitely cost you a fight for the podium.”

Oscar runs a hand through his hair. The ringing in his ears is back. He starts counting the weeks till summer break in his head.

When he looks back up at Lando, he looks devastated. “Fuck I don’t know what got into me.” Oscar suppresses a disgruntled sigh. “It’s like my brain just completely stopped functioning.”

He doesn’t like the way Lando’s talking about it. Like, yes, Oscar had been a little mad after the race and definitely mad during it. But the way Lando is worked up about it now… he just has a feeling that this is not his normal reaction to a slip-up. He’s beating himself up about it more than necessary.

“Baby,” he says, standing up from the couch to move in closer to Lando. Lando closes his eyes, looking terrified and defeated.

“Hey, baby, is this just about the race?” Oscar lays a hand on his chin, softly, almost scared that he is going to be pushed away. Lando bites his lip but doesn’t say anything.

Oscar tightens his grip on his chin just a touch, makes his voice just a little deeper.

“Baby, talk to me. Please.” It flashes through him that he doesn’t feel like he has the energy to do this right now, but he swallows it down.

Lando opens his eyes and looks at him.

“Tell me what is going through that silly head,” Oscar says and pats his cheek lightly. “And don’t you dare lie to me.”

He gives Lando a second to chew on his bottom lip. “I just. I don’t know are you not mad at me? Like, do you not want to-” he doesn’t finish the sentence. Oscar only slowly realizes what he is trying to say. “Because I ruined your chances for a podium,” Lando adds silently. It sounds defeated.

Oscar sighs. He slips his hand to Lando’s neck, squeezing lightly, trying to ground him. He takes a deep breath. The ringing in his ears subsides. “We don’t know if I would’ve made the podium. And it was always clear that we would race each other if we had to, everybody knew a situation like this would come up sooner or later.” Oscar feels calmer with every word.

“And by the way, I would never bring what happens on track back to what happens between us off track. I would never bring that into our relationship.” He suddenly remembers putting Lando on his knees a week ago for the slipstream thing in Qualifying. “I mean, not seriously,” he adds, his cheeks heating up slightly.

Lando looks at him like he doesn’t quite believe him.

“Hey,” he says and waits until Lando meets his gaze. “I’m not Daniel, okay?” Lando winces a bit at the mention of Daniel and Oscar just wants to squeeze him so tightly all of the thoughts running through his head get squeezed right out.

“I mean, I lo-“ he stops in the middle of the sentence. Blinks. Lando looks at him, dumbstruck, a little panicked. “I mean,” Oscar clears his throat. His hands shake slightly all of a sudden. “I just care way too much about this. I would never let the racing stuff get between us.”

Lando relaxes visibly at his words. It doesn’t really make Oscar feel better, though.

Lando closes his eyes, as if he needs a second to collect himself. Then he nods, if slowly. “Okay,” he whispers.

Oscar is very annoyed about the tension in the air all of a sudden. “Come here,” he says and pulls him into a deep kiss. The way Lando melts against him settles something in his stomach.

He feels Lando’s hands clawing at his shirt and draws back a little. Lando still looks a little unsure, still guilty. Still like he wants to say more. “Tell me,” Oscar demands, hand on Lando’s neck applying subtle pressure.

Lando bites down on his lips and averts his gaze- “Can I come back to England with you?” he murmurs. Oscar lets out a relieved breath. Lando still clings to his shirt, crumbling the fabric in his hands. Oscar grips his wrists and pulls them off his shirt gently, lacing their fingers together.

“I just- I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Lando mumbles, eyes locked on their entangled hands. “I think I need it to really feel that everything is fine between us.” He hesitates a moment. “I mean, if everything is fine…”

Oscar tightens his hands around Lando’s. “Of course everything is fine. Get that thought out of your head right now. I will not be mad with you because of something that happened at the race.”

He watches Lando with a piercing gaze as he takes a deep breath. Lando nods slowly. Oscar pulls him in for another kiss before he releases his hands. He turns and walks toward his backpack that stands open in the closet to pack up his stuff.

When he turns back around, Lando stands next to him and has one of his McLaren hoodies in his hand. “Can I borrow this?” he says, eyes

Oscar smiles a soft smile. The hoodie looks exactly the same as Lando’s, there’s not even an 81 that would make it obvious that it’s Oscar’s. The only difference is that it is a little bit bigger in size. “Of course, baby,” he says, and watches as Lando pulls it on top of the t-shirt he’s wearing. He will indulge in looking at Lando in his hoodie for seven hours straight on the jet home.

“You’re so adorable,” he mumbles and steps closer to put another kiss on Lando’s lips and then on his forehead. “M‘not,” Lando mumbles as he pulls Oscar closer and buries his head in his shoulder.

“Yes, you are,” Oscar says with a smile on his face. “So adorable when you ask so politely to borrow my hoodie.” Lando looks up at him with a mock mad face.

“I would’ve taken it anyway,” he says, “regardless of whether you said yes.”

Oscar can’t help a laugh. “I-“ he starts, but cuts himself off immediately. What is wrong with him today that he can’t seem to keep his intrusive thoughts to himself? He shakes his head slightly, Lando watching him with an unreadable expression. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs instead of what he wanted to say originally, and Land nods.

 

---

 

Oscar spends the seven-hour flight back to England trying to sleep and watching Lando failing to sleep. Lando is very quiet the whole way from the airport to Oscar’s flat as well.

When they finally reach the comfort of his apartment, Oscar sits down at his desk in the living room for a minute, answering some emails. Lando immediately disappears to the bedroom, as if he’d been here not once but a thousand times, which warms Oscar’s heart a little. When he closes his laptop and walks into the bedroom, he finds him sprawled on the bed on his back, scrolling through his phone. Oscar leans against the doorframe, observing him a little, pondering in his head how to approach Lando’s still shattered confidence. He looks devastated and it breaks Oscar’s heart for like the third time today.

“Hey baby,” he whispers finally. Lando doesn’t look up, doesn’t draw his gaze away from his phone. Oscar walks a bit closer to the bed. “Still not better?” he asks.

Lando just shrugs, and Oscar suppresses a sigh. When he slumps down on the bed next to Lando, his heart sinks when he sees that Lando has been scrolling through social media, something he abandoned months ago because it’s always taking a toll on his mental health. That he is doing it again now can only mean that his self-worth had to give in to his depressive, self-destructive thoughts after the race.

Oscar thinks for only a second before he takes hold of his wrist to be able to pull the phone out of his hand, softly but determined. Lando doesn’t really resist, he just looks tired.

“Let’s put this away, okay?” He feels a bit like a mom when he says it. He turns around to put the phone down on the nightstand on his side of the bed, safe from Lando’s reach.

Lando, meanwhile, stares up at the ceiling, almost apathetic.

Oscar lays a hand on Lando’s jaw and tries to pull his face towards him, but Lando doesn’t cooperate this time.

“Baby…” Oscar whispers, desperately trying to get Lando’s attention.

“Can you-” Lando says suddenly, but stops in the middle of the sentence.

“What?” Oscar asks. He’s a little scared Lando will tell him to leave him alone. He doesn’t want to go all over the being-pushed-away-thing Lando did earlier this season again. The past weeks had been a dream concerning their relationship, he’s not ready to give that up.

“I will not go and leave you alone in your state,” he says, trying to keep the panic out of his voice and just comforting. It comes out harsher than he intended to and Lando flinches a little at his tone.

“That’s not what I wanted to say,” he murmurs.

“Okay,” Oscar says, relieved, but it doesn’t quite sink in yet. “What did you want to say then?”

Lando rubs his hand over his face. Oscar fights the urge to pin them down on the mattress and kiss him until he forgets what he’s so upset about. Probably wouldn’t work that well anyway.

“I wanted to ask you if- if maybe- you could-” Lando trails off and doesn’t finish the sentence. Slowly, Oscar realizes what he wants to say anyway. It makes his stomach churn.

“I am not punishing you,” he says, firm and definitely.

Lando closes his eyes and sighs, defeated, as if he expected his response but still hoped for something else. “Why not?” he says, pouting almost.

Oscar tries to keep the anger out of his voice. “Because I am not mad at you, and you didn’t fuck anything up on purpose, you just made a mistake. We all make mistakes, Lan.”

“You sound mad though,” Lando says, petulant now. “Yes, because you drive me insane sometimes,” Oscar says before he can stop himself. For a moment he thinks he might’ve crossed a line when Lando turns his face to look at him and raises his brows subtly. But he doesn’t say anything, he just looks back up at the ceiling after a moment.

“It feels like I deserve it,” he says, so softly its almost inaudible.

“Well, you don’t,” Oscar responds, and he doesn’t try to keep his voice level anymore.

Lando covers his face with his hands, and his voice gets muffled by them when he speaks. “I was just hoping that it would make it easier, to, like, come to terms with it.”

Oscar doesn’t know what to say to that to that. His mind is spinning a little with how helpless he feels, with how he doesn’t quite know how to get through to Lando right now.

“Okay,” he says after a moment, defeatedly, with anger in his voice. Lando averts his gaze. “So, what do you want me to do?” he says, toneless. Lando doesn’t respond.

“Do you want me to deny you to come for weeks? Or make you suck me off until you choke on it?” Lando still looks up at the ceiling, not reacting to Oscar’s words.

“Or should I spank you until you cry?” Now Lando flinches at the sharpness of his words.

“How much do you think you deserve until you can forgive yourself?” Oscar continues, shouting almost, and he gets progressively mad at himself.

“Because everybody else has already forgiven you already, the team has, Andrea and Zac have, I have – so this is something for your self-loathing only.” He hates rare moments like this, when he doesn’t have his emotions under control. He doesn’t like his tone either, but Lando's self-destructive attitude makes him uncomfortable; he doesn’t know how to handle it.

He glares down at Lando. Finally, Lando looks up at him and meets his eyes. He looks so small and sad and guilty all of a sudden. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and it sounds broken.

“Fuck,” Oscar mumbles. He feels horrible about how helpless Lando looks. “No, don’t be,” he says, his voice intentionally softer now, and he wraps his arm around Lando to draw him into his lap. Lando hides his face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so mad at you when you- You just expressed your needs.” He presses a small kiss to his neck.

They sit there for a while like this, Oscar’s back pressed against the headboard of the bed, Lando in his lap, arms wrapped around each other and Lando’s chin resting on his shoulder. Oscar takes a breath before he speaks. “I have a suggestion,” he says, calm and solid now. He feels Lando tensing up with anticipation in his hands.

“I will give you what I think you need,” he murmurs, lips brushing against Lando’s cheeks.

“But I won’t punish you the way you think you deserve, because you're simply wrong there.” Lando sighs and slumps against him a little more.

Oscar pushes him away, grips his jaw and makes him look at him. “But if we do this, I want you to take it and say thank you afterwards and not complain because your silly brain tells you that it’s not enough.” Lando bites his lip contritely. “But-” Oscar cuts him off. “No, we do it my way or not at all,” he says sternly. “You have to trust me that I give you what you deserve.” Lando pouts a little before he nods hesitantly.

“Good boy,” Oscar says and slips a hand under Lando’s shirt to stroke over his waist. Lando goes pliant in his hands instantly. He brushes his hands up to Lando’s chest and strokes his thumbs over his nipples. Lando shivers underneath him, and Oscar feels the buds firming up underneath his hands soon. He pinches each nipple firmly, a strike going down to his dick at the little whine Lando makes, before he withdraws his hands.

“Undress,” he says, his voice dropping just that little bit lower. He watches as Lando pulls off Oscar’s McLaren hoodie he’s still wearing and draws back to get rid of his pants.

Oscar bends to the side and reaches for his nightstand, pulling out the upper drawer and moving his hand around until he finds what he was searching for. He keeps his hand locked around it, so Lando doesn’t see just yet what he fetched from the drawer.

When Lando is completely naked, clothes folded in a pile on the floor next to the bed, he gestures for Lando to sit back in his lap. Lando places his knees outside his thighs, his unclothed dick hanging between them, exposed and twitching. Oscar grabs his ass and pulls him a closer firmly, making Lando gasp, until he is satisfied with the position.

Lando bites his lip when he sees Oscar holding up a pair of nipple clamps, connected with a small, light chain. Oscar tweaks each of his nipples a couple of times, making sure they’re firm and tight, before he closes the clamps around them, one after another. Lando gasps in pain when the clamps take hold of his nipples, but he doesn’t protest, just shifts a little in Oscar’s lap, earning himself a warning stare.

When Oscar is finished, he toys with the chain between the clamps a little, pulling softly at first and then a bit harder, revelling in the little gasps and moans that escape Lando’s mouth when his nipples get pulled, and in the way his dick twitches between them. “Kiss me,” Oscar orders, his voice already rough from how it turns him on to have Lando so vulnerable, naked and at his mercy, while he is still fully clothed.

Lando obeys and leans forward, his hands find their way to Oscar’s shoulders, and he brings their lips together. Oscar kisses him thoroughly, pushes his tongue into his mouth and catches his bottom lip between his teeth. All the while, he keeps one hand on the chain connecting Lando’s nipples, pulling every now and then, which makes Lando’s mouth go slack against his, and he moans into the kiss. Oscar has to remind him to stay focused and not get distracted.

He continues like this for a while, one hand on the chain, one on Lando’s ass, keeping him close, leaving him no room to back away, his tongue taking charge of Lando’s mouth. He continues until he feels Lando shifting on his lap, rocking back and forth, clearly in search of friction with his neglected dick.

“Enough,” Oscar whispers against his lips, and Lando goes completely still. He swats Lando‘s ass affectionately. “Go kneel at the end of the bed.” Lando looks at him a little confused but obeys, if hesitantly. He crawls down to the foot of the bed, where he sits back on his heels and watches Oscar curiously.

“Hands behind your back,” Oscar says, firmly and a little impatiently, as if annoyed that he even has to instruct him to do it. “And knees apart.” He watches as a shiver goes through Lando, and he obediently shuffles his legs apart and clutches his hands together behind his back. His fully hard dick twitches between his legs. Oscar marvels at his sub a little, chest standing out beautifully in this position, the chain hanging from his nipples, his dick hanging helplessly in the air, the expression on his face soft and anticipating.

He looks so vulnerable, Oscar thinks.

Slowly, Oscar lifts his hips and pushes his joggers and boxers down until they sit just below his ass. He fixes Lando’s curious eyes as he takes out his own cock. “Keep your eyes on me,” he murmurs and starts stroking his own half-hard cock. His stomach jumps a little when he sees Lando’s mouth drop open a little when he watches as Oscar strokes himself to full hardness. Oscar closes his eyes for a second. In his mind, the image of Lando on his knees in front of him, completely naked, watching how he pleases himself.

“Sir,” Lando whispers, breathless and Oscar opens his eyes. Lando’s eyes are wide, and he shifts uncomfortably on his knees, his sub-instincts to be useful and to please clearly in conflict with being made to just sit there, too far away to engage with the situation.

“I can-” “No,” Oscar cuts him off. Lando shuts his mouth like he’s been slapped. “You don’t get to do that tonight.” Oscar slides his thumb over the head of his dick while he keeps his eyes set on his kneeling sub and lets out a small moan. “You just get to sit there and look pretty and be quiet,” he says, a little breathless.

He sees the storm brewing in Lando’s eyes. “But-” “I said be quiet.”

A small whimper sits on Lando’s lips, a tremble, as if he wants to utter further protest, but his sub is smart enough not to make another noise.

Oscar strokes himself just as he would if he got himself off alone. He feels his orgasm building quickly, with Lando kneeling in front of him, eyes glossy and mouth quivering with want. It’s exhilarating, watching his hard dick twitching untouched and helpless between his legs, aching for the pleasure that he gives himself so blithely.

“Please,” Lando whispers when Oscar is close to coming. Oscar shakes his head distractedly, his orgasm making him limp and weak.

Oscar comes with a silent cry on his lips, slows down his hand and watches as his cum drips over his hand, catching it before it can land on his stomach. When he looks up, he sees that Lando is watching as well, something unreadable in his eyes, his body slumped down a little at the suffering of being denied engaging in the pleasure of his dom.

“Come here,” he says, his voice rough and commanding. Lando makes a whimpering noise but obeys and crawls towards him - and it looks so unbearably hot, the way the chain dangles from his chest as he moves his limbs. Oscar is scared he will come again on the spot.

Lando sits back down in front of him, on his knees, without Oscar having to command him, he even spreads his legs again and puts his hand behind his back like an obedient little sub.

Oscar almost grips his dick, he barely holds himself back. Instead, he reaches up his hand covered in cum, brings it up to Lando’s face. "Clean it up," he says, his voice cold but thick with arousal.

He watches as Lando swallows and thinks for a second he might start begging, but he bats his eyes obediently and draws his tongue out. He licks Oscar’s fingers clean with just his tongue, keeping his eyes open and fixed on Oscar.

Oscar strokes over Lando’s lips with his thumb when he is finished.

“Now say thank you,” he orders. Lando swallows. “Thank you, sir,” he says, his voice cracking. “Good boy,” Oscar whispers, his voice rough and reverent. He drops his hand and doesn’t say anything else. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lando’s dick still twitching helplessly between his spread legs. Lando bites his lips.

Oscar pulls off the clamps, one after another, and Lando lets out a small, pained whimper when he does. Oscar strokes a thumb softly over his nipples to ease the pain a little bit. Lando still shifts uncomfortably, and Oscar can see the realisation in his eyes, the devastation about the fact that that’s all he’s getting tonight.

“Sir,” he whimpers, “can I- please, I-“ Oscar watches him shift, how he pushes his body down on to the mattress as if he is about to start humping the bed any second.

“No,” he says, calm and determined.

He slips down from the headboard until he’s lying down. He lifts the blanket, making space for Lando beside him. Come here, he says. Lando lies down next to him, and Oscar wraps his arm around him. He feels Lando squirming against him, humping his leg in the search for friction. He swats his shoulder lightly. "Stop that, or I’ll take you over my knee."

Lando goes completely still immediately. Oscar strokes over his shoulder and presses a kiss to his forehead.

"Now sleep," he says and closes his eyes, Lando pressed tight against him. Lando whimpers, but he doesn’t protest, pressing into Oscar’s body a little closer.

Chapter 17: Austria 2025

- Monday -

Lando wakes up painfully hard and alone in Oscar’s bed. The first thing he notices is Oscar’s smell, warm and comforting, lingering all over the bedding. He wraps his hands around Oscar’s pillow and presses it to his chest, buries his nose in it, and closes his eyes. He opens them when he hears a breathy chuckle from the door.

“Sweet,” is the only thing Oscar says, leaning in the doorframe, two cups in his hands, watching Lando curling around his pillow. Lando hums. “I know I am,” he says and pulls his blanket higher, only now realizing that he is still fully naked from last night, while Oscar stands there looking all handsome in his grey joggers and the white t-shirt.

Oscar grins and walks closer, holding out one of the cups for Lando. Lando sighs contentedly and sits himself up against the headboard, but pulls the blanket up high before he takes the cup from Oscar’s hand. “Careful, ‘s hot,” says Oscar before he lets him take it, which makes Lando feel horribly cared for and warm. He looks at the tag of the teabag hanging out of the cup. “Still no coffee?” he groans, and Oscar just laughs. “Sorry,” he says and sits down next to Lando, pushing his legs a little to the side to make room. “Feel free to get yourself some device to make some in the kitchen.”
It’s a weird thought, getting himself a coffee machine for Oscar’s kitchen. But it’s a nice thought as well.

“Earl Grey?” Lando says as he studies the tea tag, taking a careful sip. “You’re more British than me.” Oscar shrugs. “Just a habit,” he says, looking into his cup as if he were planning on reading the tea leaves. “We had Earl Grey every morning at boarding school. It’s just something that makes everything feel more familiar, I guess.” Lando nods and makes a note in his brain to buy some Earl Grey for Oscar in Monaco.

Oscar looks up from his cup. “How are you feeling today?” he says, his voice careful but his eyes calm. For a split moment, Lando is even confused by this question. It only dawns on him slowly, everything that happened yesterday, everything that went down in Canada. “Oh,” he says, fumbling with the tea bag tag. “Good.”

“So it helped?” Oscar asks, searching for eye contact. Lando feels his cheeks heating. He becomes very aware of his hard and completely bare dick underneath his blanket, suddenly. He averts Oscar’s eyes. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “It helped.”

He sees Oscar nodding slowly from the corner of his eye. “Good.”
Lando nods as well. “Thank you,” he adds. Oscar’s hand lands on his knee, pushes the blanket back a little so he can cover Lando’s bare leg. The touch makes Lando shiver. “Of course, baby.” He draws a small circle on Lando’s knee. “I’m sorry if I was a little- I don’t know, I felt a little helpless, like I might not be able to give you what you needed.” Lando takes a quick sip of his tea to stall hi some time to think about an answer. “No,” he says when he takes the cup back down. “It was good. Actually, I think it was way better than anything I would’ve… suggested you to do.”

Oscar breathes out audibly. “Okay,” he says, pulling softly at one of the few hairs on his leg. “Good.” They drink their tea in silence for a moment, until Oscar clears his throat.

“Do you want to like, go home today?” he asks, his voice a little hoarse. “Or do you- because we have to be at the MTC tomorrow anyway, so you might as well stay.” Lando has to bite back a grin about how hesitant Oscar is to ask whether he wants to stay.

“Hm,” he hums, as if he actually has to think about it, which he doesn’t, obviously. He just acts like it to tease Oscar a bit. “Depends.” Oscar’s eyes snap up. “On what?” he asks, sceptically. Lando puts his empty cup down on the nightstand and meets his gaze. “Whether I’ll get an orgasm today.” He grins cheekily as Oscar’s brows furrow. “Because if I don’t, I’d better go home so I can get myself off tonight.”

Oscar’s hand snaps up to his face so quickly, taking his chin in a firm hold, Lando doesn’t even get the time to jerk away. “Do you think it’s clever to say something like that after you’ve been punished already last night?” Lando gasps, his dick twitches underneath the blanket. “I told you I’d take you over my knee, I have no problem with making good of that.” Now Lando gulps. “Sorry,” he whispers. The grip on his chin intensifies, and he makes an illegible noise. “What was that?” Oscar says, his tone cold. “I’m sorry sir,” Lando corrects himself. Oscar’s hand slips down to his bare chest and finds his right nipple. He squeezes onc,e and Lando gasps, his hands twitching a little with the effort to keep him from defending himself.

“I hope you still remember that you’re not allowed to get yourself off without permission anyhow,” Oscar says while he tweaks and squeezes the other nipple. Lando makes a pathetic noise. His dick aches for release. “Yes, sir, I know,” he whines.

Oscar makes a humming noise. “Why again did you feel the need to say something like that then? When you know that’s something that you’re not allowed to do?” Oscar brings up his other hand to tweak both his nipples at the same time. Lando shoves his hands underneath his ass. With quivering lips, he ponders an answer. “I’m sorry sir, it was not- I didn’t mean it-” he stutters, too distracted from the way Oscar toys with him, almost incidentally. “It was just a joke,” he whimpers. “I wouldn’t have done it, I swear.” Oscar hums again, a small noise that makes Lando feel terribly small. “Very funny,” he says.

He lets go of Lando’s nipples, and Lando sighs in relief. But unfortunately, Oscar seems far from done with him. “Get on your knees,” he says and points toward the floor in front of where he sits on the bed. Lando whimpers, pushes the blanket bac,k and scrambles down from the bed. It’s a little humiliating he thinks, how he spent the past ten hours completely naked while Oscar has always been covered in the comfort of his joggers. His cheeks heat up again at the thought. He kneels down in front of Oscar, and his hands almost automatically find their way behind his back, clutching together. In remembrance of the last night, he shuffles his legs apart as well, exposing his hard dick to Oscar’s gaze. Oscar’s hand combs through his hair affectionately. “Such a good boy,” he whispers. “Apparently, you learned something last night.” Lando shivers. “Thank you, sir,” he whispers, because he has a feeling it could act in his best interest to be as obedient as possible.

He watches with dazed eyes how Oscar grips into his pants and pulls out his half-hard dick, gives it a couple pumps until it's fully hardened.

For a moment, Lando fears that he will do just what he did last night – getting himself off without letting Lando touch or do anything. But Oscar just holds his dick in Lando’s sight for a moment. “Open,” he says, and fuck, that tone just does so many things to Lando’s brain. He opens his mouth obediently, eager to get to please his dom today. When Oscar pushes his dick between his lips and tells him to suck, he moans pathetically around Oscar’s dick in his mouth.

While he sucks him off, trying his best to please him, only able to judge by the suppressed moans out of Oscar’s mouth, he’s desperate to get some friction on his dick. He’s been untouched since last night, but there’s nothing in reach he could hump, and he doesn’t dare to put a hand on himself, he keeps them carefully locked behind his back.

A flood of deep satisfaction rolls over him when Oscar comes in his mouth and tells him in a shaky voice to swallow, which he does. He’s still desperate, and his cock is twitching uncomfortably between his legs, but knowing he got Oscar off so quickly, that he did that to him, that he was good for Oscar, settles something inside him.

Oscar pulls him off his cock by his hair with a tight grip when he’s done. His eyes are glossy, and he’s panting softly. Lando half expects him to reach down and return the favour, but nothing like that happens.

“Sir,” Lando whimpers, his voice hoarse. “Can I- please-”, he swallows heavily. “I need to come so badly.” He wriggles uncomfortably on his knees, his hard cock practically begging for Oscar’s attention. Oscar just looks at him with a piercing stare.

“Nobody says I was already done with punishing you,” Oscar says in an unrelenting tone. He lets his thumb brush over Lando’s lips.

“Let’s just say your little comment earlier didn’t exactly persuade me to go easy on you.” Lando only barely manages to keep himself from begging pathetically. “So no, no Orgasm for you. At least not now.” A desperate whimper escapes him.

“Be a good boy today, and I’ll think about it.” Lando feels hazy. Oscar’s hand slips back in his hair, and Lando leans slightly into the touch. His eyes flutter close at how good he feels, even though he’s naked on the hardwood floor of Oscar’s bedroom, which objectively shouldn’t be the most comfortable position to be in.

“Are you going down?” Oscar asks, his voice only subdued against Lando’s ear, hand still brushing through his hair.

Only now does Lando notice that he really is nearly there. He can only nod slowly in response, his movement aggravated by the thick haze in his mind. And Oscar’s hand in his hair feels so good. He cannot believe how lucky he is. How good his life has become since the beginning of the year. 

He happily lets Oscar’s touch, his grip in his hair, the softness of his voice, and the fondness of his words drag him under. Forgets that he’s naked and he could very well be embarrassed by his state, forgets that he wants to get off so badly. He focuses only on Oscar’s voice and his touch.

 

After Oscar has dragged him back up and wrapped him in his arms for a good half hour, Lando’s naked body pressed against him, he gets up and makes them a meal-plan-approved breakfast and another cup of tea, which Lando sips on while they watch old Love Island episodes on Oscar’s small TV in his living room, buried under a blanket. Lando nudges Oscar playfully a couple of times, hoping he might give in and get him some release, but Oscar only glares at him, like he knows exactly what Lando is trying to do, and then Lando gives up.

It takes until that night, when they get ready to go to sleep, for Oscar to acknowledge Lando’s desperation again. When Lando undresses to put on a sleep shirt, not even expecting to get off anymore, Oscar suddenly catches his wrists and ties them behind his back, which instantly makes Lando fully hard and whiny. Oscar bends him over the edge of the bed, pulls down his pants, and starts opening him up without fuzz, slow, slick pumps of his fingers until Lando is a desperate mess and begs for him to touch his dick.

Oscar only gives in to his whines and pleads when he has his dick buried inside of Lando. Bucking his hips against him, he wraps a hand around Lando and reaches for his dick, stroking him slowly but steadily. Lando comes embarrassingly quickly, and his come lands on Oscar’s sheets as if he were a pathetic teenager. He thinks he can hear Oscar mocking him for it fondly, but it only reaches him muffled through his post orgasm haze.

He does his best to stay steady as Oscar keeps fucking him until he comes.

He falls asleep nestled against Oscar’s shoulder fifteen minutes later.

 

- Saturday night -

 

Oscar

Hey

 

Lando

Hey, Osc

How can I help you

Oscar

Someone’s in a good mood

Lando

Well, what can I say

Not everybody can start from pole tomorrow, u know?

Oscar

I was proud until a moment ago, now I just want to do some bad things to you

Lando

On that note

How long are you planning to have dinner with Mark?

Oscar

Aren’t you out with Max?

Lando

I am

But he’s not as pretty as you

Oscar

I feel honoured

Lando

Seriously

When are you coming back to the hotel?

Oscar

I’m already there

Lando

What??

Oscar

Yup.

[file attached]

 

Lando

Mate, what are you doing to my pillow

Oscar

Couldn’t help it. It smells so good

 

Lando

Why didn’t you tell me that you’re back already

I would’ve ditched Max immediately

Oscar

I know

That’s why I didn’t tell you

Lando

Wow

Don’t get ahead of yourself

Oscar

Just have fun with your friends okay

I’ll still be here when you come back

 

Lando really tries to enjoy his evening with Max. But the thought of Oscar lying under the covers in his hotel bed (they’re staying in Lando’s room for the weekend) doesn’t leave him for the rest of dinner. It’s a bit pathetic, he thinks, the way he has literally sucked Oscar off three hours ago before they both went to dinner, but he misses him like he hasn’t seen him in weeks. It makes him more determined to be present in the moment. The suspicious look on Max's face makes it very obvious that it’s not working, though. He can’t really bring himself to care.

When he finally arrives back at the hotel, he smashes the elevator button in the lobby almost aggressively, as if that would motivate the damn thing to move quicker.

Oscar is lying in the incredibly huge hotel bed in a black shirt and boxers, one leg thrown over a wadded-up blanket, watching something on his phone.

When Lando comes in, he looks up from his phone, grins, and turns around on his back, patting the mattress next to him to indicate he wants Lando to lie down next to him. Lando kicks of his shoes and drops down on the bed with a sigh.

“Is this the fastest man on the grid?” he says in a teasing voice, poking against Lando’s ribs softly. Lando feels his cheeks reddening. “Shut up,” he says and swats Oscar’s hand away playfully. Oscar grins cheekily. “Careful,” he says in a deep voice that makes Lando shiver. Oscar turns over so he lies on his side, facing Lando.

“What does Max have to say? How is the father-thing going?” he asks, running his index over the veins showing on Lando’s hand. What is just an innocent touch feels weirdly intimate and Lando suppresses an affected sigh.

“He said people keep giving him dummies and onesies like they think it's original.” He shrugs.

“Speaking of,” Oscar says, and suddenly throws back the covers. He gets up from the bed to walk over to his suitcase. “I got you something.”

Lando raises his eyebrows and sits up on the bed. “What, do I get an OP81 Hoodie from your new merch drop?” He tries to sound teasing and cool, but his heart races, and he doesn’t know how he would react if Oscar actually pulled out one of those Oscar-Piastri-cult hoodies.

Oscar has knelt down in front of his suitcase and searches through his things. “Do you really take me as so narcissistic to give you my own merch?” Lando grins. “No, but I know your little possessive side by now, so it’s not that unlikely that you’d like your sub to walk around in a hoodie with your freaking name all over it.” Even as he says it, Lando wonders if he could actually pull that off in public. On race day, even, maybe, and make it look like a friendship thing. To prove that they’re actually friends, not enemies, as the media would like to portray them. Truth is, he enjoys walking around in Oscar’s stuff way too much, at least behind a closed door.

“Who knows,” Oscar says as he gets back on his feet and turns around. He has that dangerous glimmer in his eyes that always goes straight to Lando’s dick. “Maybe, one day, I’ll make you do that.” He walks back towards the bed where Lando is still sitting, legs pulled up to his chest, chin resting on top of his knee. “Show the world who you belong to,” Oscar whispers in that deep tone that makes Lando shiver. He drops down on the bed next to him. “But maybe we should start small.” He hands Lando a little box, unobtrusive, black cardboard. Lando eyes it curiously. “What’s that?” he asks, suspicious.

Oscar lays the box down on the bed next to Lando. “Look,” he says, running a hand through his hair, appearing nervous all of a sudden. “Just- I don’t know, you don’t have to- like-” He breaths out audibly. “Just open it, will you?”

Lando furrows his brows, but reaches his hand out to the small box, slightly trembling. The way Oscar’s cheeks turn pink when he looks back at him suspiciously makes his heart flutter.

Slowly, he lifts the lid of the box. Inside, on a plain piece of dark wrapping, lies a simple, silver chain-bracelet. Nothing special, really, it almost looks like any replaceable kind of fashion jewellery. It looks like something Lando could wear as a fashion piece. “What’s that?” he gets out, unable to keep the tremble from his voice.

“Remember how you said that… that you like- like wearing my stuff?” Oscar nestles with the hem of his shorts. “Like, my t-shirts and stuff? And you literally always steal my hoodies.” He grips his elbow with the hand of his other arm, defensively.

Lando looks down at the box in his hands, his brain only wrapping around the whole thing slowly. “You got me something- as- like, so that I have something from you?”

Oscar laughs breathlessly. “Yeah, I know it’s like the most cliche Dom thing ever.” He runs a hand through his hair, jittery.

“But it’s not like, a collar or something,” Oscar adds quickly, as if he were sensing that Lando was starting to feel uncomfortable about something like this. “I swear, this is not to- like- express some sort of claim or something.” Lando swallows. His mind is racing.

“I really only thought, maybe it could be something, that- I don’t know.” He trails off, swamped apparently, and Lando takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says, deciding to free Oscar from his distress, “I get it.”

Oscar just nods slowly, arms wrapped around himself like a shield.

“And I don’t, like, expect you to wear it. It’s your own decision, really.” Lando cocks his head, thinking about it.

“But I thought about what you said, that being… marked helped you focus, and that you like it to be reminded of me… so I thought maybe this could be something a bit more permanent, and maybe it works just as well.” Looking dazed, almost, Oscar reaches out a hand and brushes over the bracelet that’s still lying in the box.

“And it’s visible, but like no one will know what it means because it’s also subtle, not like the OP81 hoodie.” He pulls his hand back quickly. “But like as I said, it’s your choice, no pressure, I don’t want to force you to-”

“Osc,” Lando interrupts him. Oscar finally looks up at him, eyes widened. “You’re rambling,” Lando says, a small smile tugging at his lips. Oscar lets out a breath, slumping his shoulders. “Sorry.”

Lando turns the bracelet around in his hands, feeling the smooth, cold chain against his skin. After a moment, he looks up at Oscar, trying his best not to sound overwhelmed and anxious.

“But does it do anything to you?” he asks, his voice rough. “Like, if I’m wearing something that you got me? If I wore this around the paddock or whatever, would it really only be to calm me?”

“Jesus, Lan,” Oscar mumbles, his cheeks darkening. Then he takes a deep breath, his back straightening.

“I don’t really know how I would feel about it yet. Like, honestly, I thought about it, of course I did…” He trails off again, fixing some point on the floor, brows furrowed. Lando briefly thinks he looks like he does when he’s at Grill the Grid and really wants to do well.

“Yes, it would really do something to me,” he says suddenly, eyes not leaving that point on the floor. “Not only if you'd be wearing it, but also that everyone could see it. Even if they wouldn’t, like, know it. The fact that it would be there, for everyone to see- that would definitely- You know-” It’s obvious how much he struggles with putting his feelings into words. It’s almost cute, Lando thinks.

“God, why is this so hard?” Oscar says with a breathy laugh, and he looks up to meet Lando’s eyes. Oscar’s hand lands on his knee, and his thumb strokes over the exposed skin underneath the hem of his shorts. Lando can’t keep his eyes away from his hand for a moment, pondering Oscar’s words in his head. That Oscar would like it, in a dom kind of way, if he wore his bracelet in public.

“Is it okay if I think about it?” he hears himself say.

He sees Oscar’s throat bobbing when he looks up at him. “Yeah, of course,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Osc,” Lando lays a careful hand on his arm. It occurs to him that he never would’ve been able to do something like that at the beginning of the year – touching a dom, his dom, like that, just because he feels like it. Oscar has changed so much for him over the past months, has done so much for him. A couple of months ago, he was strolling through Melbourne alone, in the middle of the night, about to give himself over to some random dom in a random club – almost careless about the fact that he was repeatedly putting himself in danger to get his dynamic problems fixed. And now, he can go to Oscar whenever he needs it, and most of the time he doesn’t need to because Oscar is there and giving him everything he needs before he can even ask.

And yet, he’s still not ready to give him something back, just for the sake of it.

“I just-”, he stammers, feeling guilty suddenly. “I  feel like I have to get used to the thought, okay? Like it’s not a no, and I don’t want you to feel like it bothers me if you would feel like that-”

Oscar lays his other hand on top of Lando’s and grips softly. “It’s fine,” he says, looking up at him. “I didn’t expect you to like, walk around with it immediately. I really just- wanted you to have the option, but it’s fine if you’re not ready.” If you’re not willing to give me that, is what Lando hears. “As I said, it’s your call.” Oscar smiles at him, and even though Lando smiles back, if small and hesitant, he feels something uneasy in his gut. He can’t help but think that it must be disappointing for Oscar, after everything they’ve been through since the beginning of the year, to be rejected like that, at something as simple as walking around with an unobtrusive bracelet in public. And nobody would even know but them. And still, it feels like so much.

“Hey,” Oscar says, shaking him out of his thoughts and placing a heavy hand on his neck. “I really didn’t want to pressure you or anything. I’m sorry if I did.” Lando looks up at him, trying to return the smile. “No,” he says, low and rough. It doesn’t sound assuring at all.

With a firm grip, Oscar takes the box from his hand and places it on the nightstand. “Let’s just forget about this for a moment, okay?”

Lando follows Oscar’s hands with his eyes, still caught up in his mind.

Oscar moves his hand on his neck up to his hair, stroking through his curls softly. He presses a soft kiss on his temple that makes Lando’s stomach twist for some impalpable reason.

“Would it help If I put you down?” Oscar asks. Of course, he notices Lando’s mind is racing. He always notices. “Or I could… do something else,” he adds and intensifies his grip in Lando’s hair briefly.

It makes Lando almost sick, how much sympathy and compassion Oscar has for him, even now, even after Lando just practically told him he wasn’t ready to walk around with a sign that basically only states that he’s his sub.

He gives him what he knows must be just a tired smile. “No,” he says, stroking over Oscar’s hand with his thumb. “I’m good.” And I don’t deserve it, his mind adds. I never do anything for you, so why would you have to do something for me all the time?

“Okay,” Oscar says.

He fumbles with the hem of his shirt for a second before visibly breathing out. “Well, I need something, so…” With that, he just pulls Lando down on the bed with him, wraps his arms around him and pulls him close, until Lando’s head is resting on his chest, Oscar’s arms wrapped around him tightly, leaving him no space to back away. Lando’s tense at first, but forces himself to loosen up, because it’s the least he can do to give Oscar this again. He feels small kisses being pressed to his head. “Just this,” Oscar whispers against his head. “It’s all I need.”

Liar, Lando’s head screams at him.

He forces himself to listen to Oscar’s heartbeat through his chest, a steady, hypnotizing rhythm, his firm hands around his body, stroking over his back softly, fiddling their way underneath his shirt.

No, Lando thinks, a tiny, mean voice in the back of his mind as he inevitably gets a nose full of Oscar’s numbing scent. You really don’t deserve this.  

Notes:

Always happy to see comments - even if they're short, it still means the world <3
Thank you for reading!

Chapter 18: Silverstone 2025

- Monday -

During the time when they hadn’t had sex yet and were only scening, Oscar had always thought that if they ever started having sex, he wouldn’t think about coming on to Lando constantly. In reality, it had gotten even worse since they started fucking each other. And since Monaco, Oscar sometimes feels like he can’t manage to control his feelings at all.

Whenever they walk past each other in the MTC, on the way to the sim or on to a meeting, he feels the overwhelming desire to just push Lando into one of the rooms, lock the door and push him to his knees and make him take his cock.

When they sit in a meeting on Monday afternoon and Lando fiddles with the pen in his hands, Oscar has to suppress the urge to just reach over and stop him, let alone put a hand on his teetering leg like a possessive prick.

He had always been ashamed of this side of him, had always told himself he was not one of those doms who publicly treated their sub like their property. But recently, the desire to lay a possessive arm around Lando’s waist, or glare at any other dom who accidently uses his dom voice against him or look at him a little too aggressive (in Oscar’s opinion at least), has become almost too big to handle.

In addition, Oscars eyes keep flicking to Lando’s wrist, whenever the sleeve of his McLaren sweatshirt is rucked up to his elbow, and basks in the thought of how insane it would look if he wore the bracelet. Of how it would probably drive Oscar absolutely mad. Maybe it’s good he’s not wearing it yet, he thinks while he should concentrate on Tom filling him in on tire pressure for Silverstone. He can use the time to get used to the thought of him wearing it.

Whenever Oscar looks at Lando from a distance, he thinks about gripping his curls and pull it to the side, so he can claim his neck with his mouth.

He wonders if Lando feels the same. 

 

- Tuesday -

When Lando is alone in his flat on Tuesday evening, mindlessly watching some Netflix show that doesn’t really interest him, his mind automatically goes to Oscar. What he would give to be able to watch Love Island with him now, head in his lap, his hand stroking through his hair. But his mind also goes back to Saturday night. To the bracelet. To the look on Oscar’s face when he… when he didn’t put it on.

His feet are moving before he’s really aware of it. Take him to his bedroom and to his nightstand, where he hid the black cardboard box in the very back of the upper drawer.

He pulls it out and ignores the way his heart is picking up pace when his hand wraps around the smooth surface of the box.

He drops down on the floor, leans against the side of the bed and pulls his knees up to his chest before he opens the box and puts the lid on the nightstand.

For a while, he just stares at the bracelet, plain and innocently lying on the wrapping. Carefully, he takes it out and puts the box down. He looks at it, closely, the silver chain against his darker skin.

Slowly, as if in trance, he opens the clasp of the bracelet and wraps it around his wrist. It’s almost impalpable against his skin. Yet, something heavy settles on his chest when he looks down at his wrist with the bracelet. When he strokes a finger over the chain.

It doesn’t even look weird, he thinks. It looks exactly like something he might get from some random concept store. No one would notice. No one would know what it means. No one would know that he is-

Something rushes through him, something cold and hot at the same time. Suddenly, he feels sick. His stomach twists and something rises in his throat. He gasps for air, feels like he might have to throw up any second. As fast as he can, with his trembling fingers, he fumbles with the clasp of the chain until he gets it open. Practically rips it off his arm and puts it back in the box, gets the lid from the nightstand and shoves it back into the drawer, buries it underneath the two books that he got last Christmas from his mum that he still hasn’t read. He slams the drawer shut, with a bit more force than necessary and it makes a loud thunk.

He gets up like he’s in a rush, practically runs back to the living room, where he quickly swallows a glass of water. But it doesn’t help. He tries to calm himself by watching his Netflix show. But it doesn’t help. He gets back up, rips open the doors of the balcony, steps out into the warm Monaco night, the air dry and thick.

He tries to take a deep breath. He doesn’t hyperventilate, at least, he’s just… panting a little.

He ignores the big lounge with the thick white pillows and sits down on the dark grey tiles instead. Rests his back against the wall and closes his eyes.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, trying to go through with one of those breathing exercises he used to do, back in the day, when he knew he was about to drop, and no dom was in sight to help. He tries, until he hears his phone ringing in the living room, on the couch where he left it.

It’s the ringtone he set up for Oscar.

He doesn’t get up to get it.

 

- Thursday -

Lando stays with his family in Silverstone.

He tells himself it’s because he hasn’t seen them in months, like, really seen them, not just for a couple hours on a race weekend.

It’s not because he’s avoiding Oscar. It’s not.

It’s not because he feels guilty and sick to his stomach whenever he sees him around the paddock, with that determined, focused but slightly off look on his face. With the way how he clearly always acts like he didn’t see Lando when it is so clear that he did. The way he does the exact same whenever Oscar spares him a glance.

It’s not because he’s so freaking glad and relieved that they don’t get a second to talk, like actually talk, in between fan stages and interviews and producing social media content.

It’s not because his mind keeps going back to that bracelet sitting in his nightstand in his apartment back in Monaco. It’s not because he feels like a disappointment every time he thinks about that bracelet.

 

- Friday -

Oscar has gotten unusually quiet over texts. Lando knows he probably had it coming, with how scarce he has been himself with words and affection the past couple of days. His texts had been terse, and he hadn’t returned any of Oscar’s phone calls since Tuesday, had only ever texted him he was busy and would call back later, but never did. Too much turmoil in his stomach when he thinks about calling. Too big the lump in his throat when he thinks about Oscar’s kind eyes and how he knows he’s not being the person that Oscar deserves. After everything he’s done for him.

Still, it feels… not good, looking at his phone every ten minutes and not being greeted by a silly text or a simple ‘how are you’ from Oscar.

When Lando arrives at the paddock and at the McLaren motorhome, rushing up the stairs to his driver's room, he hesitates for a second when he walks by Oscar’s door. He could just knock and fall into Oscar’s arms and just… forget about everything that has been sitting in the back of his mind for days like a spider on the bedroom ceiling.

He tells himself Oscar’s probably not here yet and opens the door to his own room.

He hangs around in his room a bit, picking up his phone and dropping it back on the couch again while he gets dressed, looks at some data on his laptop again and tries to get in the right headspace. He’s about to head down to practice when there’s a knock on the door.

It could be anyone. But he already knows it’s Oscar. It’s just another moment where Oscar is a bigger person than him. It makes him want to act like he’s not there.

He takes a short breath and clears his throat before he tells him to come in.

Oscar appears at the door, already in his racing suit, cheeks lightly flushed, and a muted smile on his face.

“Hey,” he says, low and hesitant. Almost shy. He closes the door behind him softly.

Lando clears his throat, again. “Hey,” he says, and does his best to smile dutifully. Oscar looks at him weirdly, an almost exhausted look on his face. He’s annoyed by your behaviour, Lando thinks, and who can blame him?

“Ready for Silverstone?” Oscar asks, keeping the subject seemingly light. Lando shrugs. “I guess,” he says, fumbling with the sleeve of his suit. “How’s your family?” Oscar continues, that reserved smile back on his face. “Good,” Lando says and forces himself to play along. “Probably more excited than me to be honest,” he says, and inclines his head a little, and this time, the smile on his lips feels honest. When he looks up at Oscar’s face, there’s a spark in his eyes that makes his heart lift a little.

They just stand there for a moment, both looking at each other, but also distinctly avoiding each other. It lasts until Oscar sighs loudly. He pushes himself off the wall and slowly closes the distance between them. Lando suppresses the impulse to step back.

 “I just need…” Oscar murmurs and puts his hands on Lando’s face, leaving the sentence unfinished. His touch is firm but yet so gentle, Lando doesn’t know why he feels ill suddenly when Oscar pulls him in for a kiss.

Lando tells himself, screams at himself to fucking relax and let Oscar kiss him and fucking kiss him back and not be so… like this. But when Oscar pulls back after just a second and looks at him, realization and lack of understanding in his eyes at the same time, Lando’s heart clenches as if someone tried to wring it out- but he still can’t bring himself to do something about it.

“Is there anything that I can do?” Oscar asks, his voice low and vulnerable, and Lando wonders if he imagined the tremble of his lower lip. He forces himself to take a deep breath and swallow down the ugly thing that sits in his throat, begging to be let out. “No,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’m just very nervous because of the race - you know, Silverstone, and all.” For a second, he thinks it might sound believable, but the look in Oscar’s eyes tells him it’s not.

Still, Oscar nods slowly. “Let me know if- I don’t know, maybe we can-”

“My family’s kind of very proprietary on my spare time,” Lando interrupts him, trying an apologetic look as best as he can.

There’s a knock on the door, and one of the team assistants shouts that they need to head to the garage. So Lando nods to the door. “Better head out,” he says while he already walks towards the door. He feels Oscar following closely behind.

They don’t talk between practice, and not before they head home.

Lando does his best to engage in the random conversations his family is having over dinner. But his mind keeps going back to Oscar, the hurt look on his face when it became clear that he was not getting through to him.

He forces himself to stay present when his mum starts throwing him weird looks over the table.

 

- Saturday -

Lando is a bundle of nerves on Saturday. Might be because it’s Silverstone. Might be because, besides racing, he’s very occupied with avoiding Oscar as best as he can, while also acting like nothing’s wrong, as best as he can. Oh, and finding reasonable answers to his family’s questions about his weird mood.

He doesn’t really take notice of anything else going on in the paddock, besides racing.

So when he’s on the way to Qualifying on Saturday, in a rush so he doesn’t run into Oscar, his mind already on the track, his heart almost stops when he hears a familiar voice behind him.

“Do you have a second for an old team-mate, Norris?”

Lando’s stomach drops. He wants to scream, run away, hide somewhere. But he’s literally in the middle of the paddock, a bunch of reporters and FIA Officials around. He can’t just bail right now.

So, he tries to stand a little taller, appear a bit more composed, and turns around.

Daniel grins at him.

Lando sighs. “What do you want?” he asks, simply. Oscar’s voice echoes through his mind, reminding him that he’s not allowed to talk to Daniel anymore. He tells himself he can’t follow his orders right now and ignores the unsettling feeling in his stomach.

“Why so prickly?” Daniel says, seemingly unimpressed by Lando’s tone. “Is the championship fight already getting to you?”

Lando knows he shouldn’t let Daniel provoke him, but he can’t help himself. “You wouldn’t know,” he says, his voice low but sharp. “You’ve never been in one.”

Daniel's grin stays plastered to his face, but Lando thinks he can see something flashing through his eyes, and that gives him a little bit of satisfaction at least. But it doesn’t stop Daniel from harassing him, unfortunately.

“Do you need help with that?” he says, stepping a tiny bit closer. “I could put you down if you want to?” It almost sounds like a nice offer, if Lando didn’t know how Daniel treated subs who were in need of help. And who couldn’t defend themselves because no one could know they were a sub. He swallows. Gathers all the strength he can find in his tired body.

“No, thank you,” he says through gritted teeth.

Daniel makes a humming sound. Lando doesn’t like the grin on his face at all.

“So you already got someone for that, hm?”

Lando wonders whether he should just walk past him and leave. But the way Daniel built himself up in front of him, he has a feeling he wouldn’t let that happen anyway.

“None of your business,” he says instead.

“Come on, Norris, don’t be like that.”

Lando takes a deep breath. “When you’re done, please get out of my way. I have a car to drive.”

He steps aside and walks past Daniel, his heart beating up to his chest. He’s already a few steps past and already got his hopes up that Daniel will just leave him alone, when Daniel shouts behind him.

“It’s Piastri, isn’t it?”

Lando stops dead in his tracks. Daniel’s voice is way too loud for the fact that they are in public and there’s a bunch of hungry reporters around. Lando turns, nervously, and takes a few quick steps back. “Can you please not shout loud enough for the whole fucking grid to hear?” he barks.

Daniel just keeps grinning at him. Lando wants to punch something.

“God, it really is Piastri. Didn’t think the little softie had it in him. We all know what kind of sub you are after all.”

Lando’s heart drops. Even if Daniel is not his Dom anymore, never really was for that matter, that comment, the sheer disapproval dripping out his mouth triggers something inside him, and not in a good way.

“Don’t speak about Oscar like that,” he says, but he knows it comes out weak.

Finally, the stupid grin vanishes from Daniel’s face. Lando is not sure if that is a good thing, though. “What, are you telling me the little Piastri guy is able to give you what you need?”

Lando doesn’t grace that with an answer. But that doesn’t bother Daniel.

He comes another step closer, his voice so low now, Lando almost can’t hear him anymore.

“But the real question is, are you able to give him what he needs?”

Lando swallows. He wonders if Daniel can read his brain. If maybe he has been watching him for days and somehow knows exactly what’s going on inside him.

“I gotta say though, you need to have something,” Daniel continues, and Lando wonders if he will ever shut up. “He’s a handsome guy after all, could probably have all sorts of sweet sub girlfriends. There must be some reason he’s putting up with you instead.”

Lando swallows. He tries to shake off the pain in his heart. To not show Daniel how much he just hit home with that.

“Or is he defective as well?”

“Shut up, Daniel,” Lando shouts. He can take people mocking him, he can’t take people mocking Oscar.

“You don’t give me any orders,” Daniel says, his voice dropping lower to his dom voice, and it makes Lando's knees fucking quiver. He hates himself for it. Fear flashes through him when he sees the rage in Daniel’s eyes. It occurs to him that if Daniel wanted to, he could do a lot right now to put him in a compromising position. What if he used his voice right now to make Lando kneel in front of him? Lando hasn’t gone down since after Canada, three weeks now, and he’s not in the best headspace either. He’s not sure if he could resist if Daniel tried. Horrified, he watches as Daniel takes another step closer.

“Hey,” shouts a familiar voice from behind him, in a not-too-amused tone. Oscar appears on the stairs of the McLaren Motorhome and comes towards them with his usual calm, determined face. Lando thinks that he does look mad, though, and his mind spins. Oscar forbade him from talking to Daniel. Was he going to be mad at him because he did anyway? Was Lando really a bad sub? Is he really that much of a useless sub that he doesn’t even manage to follow his dom's orders?

He doesn’t even realize that Oscar stands right in front of him by now, ignoring Daniel completely, just focused on him. A subtle pressure appears on his arm, and it sinks in only slowly that Oscar is touching him. “Are you okay?” he says, only reaching Lando’s ears subdued. Slowly, like he has to fight some form of thick haze, he nods. He can see Daniel turning his head towards Oscar and his lips moving.

“I said, leave, Daniel,” Oscar says, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re not welcome here.”

“You’ve got nothing to tell me, Piastri.” Daniel comes a step closer. “I’m a past McLaren Driver.”

“And we are current McLaren Drivers. We are contenders for the championship. What do you think whose opinion will be more important to Zak?”

Lando can see Daniel grinding his teeth. He throws an angry look towards Lando’s arm, and Lando notices that Oscar’s hand still lies there. Assuring, but also… claiming.

Suddenly, he smiles a muted, dangerous smile. “Good luck with that, Piastri,” he whispers and throws them both an unreadable look. Then he leaves them standing there and walks out the front door. It feels like a weight lifting off Lando’s chest. He takes a deep breath.

As they watch him walk away, Lando pulls at his arm softly, to remind Oscar he’s still gripping him like he were a dog that’s not allowed to run away. Oscar seems confused at first, but then pulls his hand away as if he’s burned himself. “Sorry,” he whispers, absentmindedly. “What did he want?”

Lando crosses his arms in front of him, scanning the room for whether anyone is watching them. “Nothing, it's fine,” he says, his voice low and dismissive. “Yeah, sure,” Oscar huffs. Lando looks at him, brows slightly furrowed. “You didn’t look like it was fine when I came in,” Oscar adds, sarcastically.

Lando presses his lips together and avoids his gaze. “Why did you even let him talk to you?” Oscar continues, as if they were not standing right in front of the McLaren motorhome, where basically the whole team and a bunch of reporters could overhear them. “Didn’t I tell you I don’t want you talking to him anymore?”

Yes, Lando thinks, I know, and now you’re mad at me. But suddenly, Oscar’s tone doesn’t resonate well with him. “Can we not talk about this, like, here?” he snaps, looking up at Oscar, annoyed. Oscar keeps a straight face when Lando glares at him. “Okay,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Then let’s go to my room.” Oscar looks at him determined, as if he’s ready to grip Lando by the hand and pull him up the stairs.

“No,” Lando hears himself say, and it makes something in him twist painfully. Everything in him screams at him to apologize immediately and just follow Oscar to his room. Especially with the way Oscar looks at him with his eyebrows raised. His instincts practically rebel against him, but Lando makes himself take a deep breath. “I can’t- I’m not-” Another deep breath. “I’m fine, okay? I just- need some space.”

Something flashes across Oscar’s face. Lando can’t grasp what it means.

“Okay,” he says after a moment, his voice much calmer now. “Lan, are you sure that you-” Lando interrupts him with a loud sigh. “Seriously, I can’t do this right now,” he says, his voice sharp and final.

Now Oscar really looks taken aback. And Lando can’t stand looking at him like that anymore. So he just turns and walks away, over to his engineers, over to someone to hopefully give him something to take his mind of… all of it.

But the rest of the day, whenever he has a second to think, or even when he doesn’t and he should focus on strategy and telemetry and the freaking car instead, the hurt on Oscar’s face when he called him off appears in his mind. And the mean little voice that keeps telling him that he’s just not good enough for Oscar.

 

When Lando walks back from Qualifying and returns to the motorhome to get his stuff and go back to the hotel, he’s stopped dead in his tracks again. Daniel and Zak stand in the middle of the motorhome, talking to each other with serious faces, so low that Lando can’t hear them. When they spot him, their gaze lingers on him just a touch too long, and Lando is almost sure that they must be talking about him.

His stomach drops down to his knees. He feels breathless. His mind spins. His vision becomes blurry around the edges for a second. He knows he looks guilty the way he just stands there, unsure what to do, but he can’t bring his legs to just keep going. He doesn’t know what to do, whether to run away or just walk up to them with confidence and ask what this is about.

In his mind, he can already see how Zak will kick him out later. Will tell him in a very calm and reasonable way that McLaren can’t afford to risk an international scandal by letting slip that one of their drivers is a sub. Pato would have to drive the rest of the season. His chances at the championship will be nulled. His chances of ever becoming world champion.

Across the room, Daniel throws Zak his trademark smile. Lando thinks he might vomit. 

The very same moment, Oscar appears on the stairs behind them, looking down at his phone. When he spots Daniel and Zak, Lando can see him grasping the situation in real time. He looks at them, blinks, looks over to Lando, back at Daniel and Zak, who gesture wildly, nodding towards Lando. And then Oscar looks back at him, and Lando can see him opening his mouth, even though he’s too far away for Lando to hear anything he might say. And Oscar can’t get involved in this right now, that much Lando knows. If Daniel is currently exposing his secret to his team principal, Oscar getting into all of this right now won’t help. So Lando fixes Oscar with an intentional stare, tries his best to tell him to stay exactly where he is with sheer willpower, and when he’s sure enough that he has Oscar’s attention, he shakes his head, just slightly, just so much that he’s sure Oscar noticed. He can see Oscar biting his lip, can see that look on his face that he always has when he doesn’t agree with his engineers on something. But Lando keeps staring at him, as if he could tell him telepathically to stay the fuck out of this. And somehow, it works. Oscar slumps his shoulders, looks over to Daniel and Zak one last time, before he turns on his heels and walks back up the stairs.

Lando makes himself take a deep breath. Good. This is good. He can only do damage control right now. He doesn’t even know if Daniel is really spilling his secret.

 

When Oscar texts him that night, asking if he can come over, Lando doesn’t text him back. He texts him the next morning that he had been asleep already. Which couldn’t be farther from the truth, because he feels like he didn’t sleep at all that night.

 

- Sunday -

Lando doesn’t know how exactly he managed to put the car on P1. He just knows he did somehow, and he won freaking Silverstone, and he should be elated – but he’s not. When he looks down at Oscar on his right, and Oscar doesn’t really look back, he just feels empty. When he looks down at the crowd, and sees Daniel somewhere in the back, grinning his dangerous smile, he feels sick. He busies himself with forcing down his building anxiety.

Forces himself to enjoy it. He can’t be sure if he will be able to have this again, or if McLaren will kick him out tomorrow.

It’s fine, he tells himself. He won’t have to see Daniel for a while after today and Oscar - thing with Oscar will be fine again. they will overcome this, like the have overcome everything this season yet.

It’s okay that Oscar’s mad at him, he thinks. Understandable even. He heard about his radio comments. About how he thought he wasn’t treated fair. He can’t blame him for it. He hasn’t been easy to put up with all weeks. Hadn’t been the sub somebody could want. It had to get to Oscar at one point or another.

But as he stands there thinking about it, listening to the national anthem, looking down at his family beaming at him, he wraps his hand around the wrist of his right arm unconsciously and painfully notices how empty his wrist is. Notices the absence of the chain, suddenly. And he remembers what Daniel said to him on Sunday. ‘Are you able to give him what he needs?’

He looks down at Oscar again, who looks straight ahead, not even a small incline of his head towards Lando.

No, Lando thinks. I’m not.

 

---

 

Oscar [18:31]

Can I come to Monaco with you?

 

Oscar [19:02]

Lando, please talk to me.

 

Oscar [19:47]

Can you please return my call?

 

Oscar [21:14]

We don’t know if Daniel told Zak about you.

I’m sure it’s not that bad. Even if, we will manage somehow.

 

Oscar [21:53]

You’re not going to lose your seat because of that.

 

Oscar [22:47]

Lan, are you okay?

 

Oscar [00:36]

Please just let me know if you’re okay.