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“If I win, you have to tweet about how starstruck you were when we first met.”
“And if I win?”
“If you win, I’ll wear something cute to the after party.”
“Deal.”
Oscar bounces his leg impatiently, wondering what Lando meant by something cute. It’s vague enough to mean anything, really, which only increases the anticipation.
He doesn’t have to wait much longer.
When Lando emerges from the club’s bathroom, Oscar promptly feels all the blood in his body rush to his face and his cock.
“This was a bad idea,” he hears Lando hiss to his trainer as he attempts to tug the hem of, well, everything down.
Contrary to what Lando says, Oscar thinks it’s a great idea. He idly wonders which sex shop Lando’s team raided to find him a pair of fluffy black cat ears that sit innocently atop his curly head and matching fingerless gloves. Utterly gobsmacked, he can only watch Lando squirm and rub his stocking-covered thighs together, inadvertently causing his pleated skirt to ride up.
The cropped OP81 hoodie leaves no doubt in Oscar’s mind, and the way Lando shyly approaches him and climbs into his lap only cements things even further.
Oscar can’t think.
“Surprise,” Lando mutters, smoothing his skirt over the tops of his thighs. Oscar dazedly tracks the movements of those fluffy paws.
“Did you come up with all this yourself?” he asks, his voice breaking in the middle of his question, as he reaches up to flick one of Lando’s cat ears. “It’s… cute.”
Cute is one way to describe Lando in his little getup. Sexy, beautiful, plucked-straight-from-Oscar’s-dirtiest-fantasies are the descriptors that Oscar would consider using instead if he wouldn’t be crucified for it.
Lando preens at the compliment nonetheless, finally letting go of his skirt. He curves a hand, imitating a cat’s paw, and grins cheekily. “All for you, Osc. Meow~”
Fuck.
Oscar is going to win every race and then the championship just to have this again.
Collecting himself again, he unsticks his hands from the plush seat of the couch he’s restricted himself to and absently thumbs at the edge of Lando’s stockings, grazing the tanned skin of his thigh. God, what kind of hentai has Lando been consuming?
“Where are your shoes?” Oscar wonders out loud, still rubbing at Lando’s thigh and pretending the man occupying his lap isn’t squirming at his ministrations. Or the cat in his lap, rather.
Fuck.
Lando’s cheeks are bright red as he shifts, sitting up to show Oscar his feet. He curls his toes, and the beans sewn into the soles of his stockings move too.
“Fuck.”
It’s all ridiculously cute.
“You like it?” Lando asks, visibly growing more confident while Oscar’s cock grows harder underneath his butt. He moves closer, catlike, to wind his arms around Oscar’s neck and nuzzles his cheek while the hands previously glued to his thighs reach for his toe beans to squish them. “Mmm, I knew you’d like the stockings.”
The stockings aren’t the only thing that Oscar likes. He’s pretty sure he’ll faint as soon as he gets a good look at the whole tail situation that he’s been avoiding thus far.
It’s already weird enough that he’s enjoying himself while he idly plays with Lando’s feet.
But Lando just looks so at ease, perched in Oscar’s lap, wearing a hoodie branded with his name that puts all that beautiful, smooth skin on display, and Oscar is pretty sure that he would be purring if he could at the rhythmic motions of his hands. Frankly, Oscar doesn’t even want to move, content to touch Lando the way he currently is.
He simply cannot get up when he has a cat in his lap, after all.
And Lando makes the cutest kitten, even if it’s all because of a bet. Oscar continues petting him, hoping it brings him at least some comfort after having the first lap of his race ruined. He’s not going to apologize for winning or increasing the gap between them in the standings, but he cares about Lando. Externally, his teammate seems perfectly content, but Oscar knows him well enough—he’s been in love with him long enough—to sense the underlying regret.
“Osc,” Lando mumbles, “you could be- you could be…” He trails off, sitting back on his haunches and twisting his paws- his hands together as he lowers his gaze bashfully.
Trying not to mourn the warmth of the body that was pressed right up against his, Oscar stares at Lando, wondering how he manages to be every bit the shy kitty he’s trying to emulate. “Yeah?”
Lando covers his face with his gloved hands, doing way too much damage without even trying. He screams a little too before lowering his hands and gazing up at Oscar through his lashes.
“You could be touching me… there, if you want,” he whispers shyly. Louder, he asks, “Don’t you want to find out what the rest of your surprise is?”
Well, yes.
“I think I might die,” Oscar blurts out. “Um.”
“Better for me, then.” Lando’s cheeks are still bright red, but it’s nice that some of his snarky personality has returned. “I actually did all this to put a stop to your winning streak. Turns out I just needed to pull out all the stops and, hm, put one in, if you catch my drift.”
It wouldn’t be remotely funny if it was anyone else saying all this. Unfortunately, it’s Lando, which means Oscar can only grip his waist as he folds forward, laughing. Lando’s shoulders shake with mirth, but he’s definitely giggling at Oscar making a fool out of himself for being so damn gone.
Oscar’s hands drift over the back of Lando’s skirt and then underneath to grab his cheeks.
His smile fades into a wide-eyed expression of shock.
“You weren’t kidding.”
Lando’s blush returns full-force as he gives his bum a little wiggle in Oscar’s grasp to get comfortable. His soft tail moves, and his breath hitches right next to Oscar’s ear.
“Fuck,” Oscar repeats, this time with plenty of emphasis. He tentatively feels around Lando’s arse, swallowing thickly when he realizes that his teammate is wearing panties. With a heart-shaped cutout in the back, no less.
Just because Lando hasn’t pulled away yet, though he’s been squirming at the poking and prodding, Oscar wraps his fingers around the base of his tail and gives it a solid yank.
Lando instantly squeals, glaring at him as a shiver runs up his spine. Oscar is reminded uncannily of a cat bristling.
“That was rude!” Lando protests, shoving at him harmlessly. He’s trembling, but there’s a visible tent at the front of his skirt. “I’m sensitive.”
Unable to resist, Oscar coos, “Cute kitty,” and teases at the plug again to draw another little mewl from him. “Did you finger yourself open for me?”
“No. Jon helped.”
He’s suddenly struck with the image of Lando braced against the sink as his trainer guides him through breathing exercises to get him to relax enough to slip the plug into him. A mild annoyance rises up in him because he wasn’t the one to bend Lando over the counter and truss him up in this skimpy little outfit.
But Oscar is still optimistic about his chances of taking everything off of Lando later.
When they’re not in full view of their team. A few of them are already eyeing Lando hungrily, so Oscar pulls him further into his arms, covering as much of his exposed back as possible and neatly rearranging the pleats of his skirt to cover the round globes of his arse again.
Lando snuggles into him, curling his fingers into the front of his shirt. The fluff on his gloves brushes Oscar’s neck, driving him insane.
“Osc,” he whines softly, tugging at Oscar’s collar. “Are you thinking about fucking me right here?”
“No way.”
“Oh.” Lando wilts. “If you don’t want me, then-”
Oscar’s grip on him tightens. “I didn’t say that. I won, so I reckon I should be the sole recipient of my prize.”
He watches Lando’s cheeks grow pink again. The club’s lighting doesn’t do him justice.
A distinctly frustrated noise leaves Lando’s mouth as he works his jaw before he suddenly drags Oscar’s head down to meet him halfway in a kiss. He tastes like mint, and his lips are soft as he parts them with a sigh, like he’s relieved that Oscar eagerly kisses him back.
Oscar’s hands drift back down to fondle Lando’s buttcheeks, squeezing them like it’s his right to.
Part of him burns with smugness that he’s the one with Lando perched in his lap, and part of him wants to stand up and throw Lando over his shoulder and carry him off like a bride, even if his skirt flips up and puts his luscious cheeks on full display.
Lando would squeal and protest, but he’d be blushing as he’s practically manhandled like a prized possession.
“Oscar? Hello?”
Oscar snaps out of his daydreams. “Mm.”
“You’re supposed to be paying attention to me,” Lando says with a pout.
“My hands are on your butt.”
“Your hands could be doing more to my butt than just squeezing it. You could… you could let everyone know that I’m your kitty.” His voice trails off into a whisper as he ducks his head into Oscar’s shoulder, presumably to hide just how flustered he is.
Suddenly, the idea of making Lando come in full view of everyone present is a lot more appealing than Oscar initially thought.
“My kitty’s already wearing a hoodie with my name on it,” Oscar teases, giving Lando’s butt a light caress. He trails his fingers dangerously close to Lando’s entrance, where it’s puffy and stretched around the plug, and he’s rewarded with a full-body shiver. “I reckon you just want to release some pent-up tension.”
“Make me come,” Lando whines as he paws desperately at the front of Oscar’s shirt and kneads at his shoulders. “Please. And then- mmh- and then you can fuck me in private.”
Oscar gives Lando’s tail another tug, unable to prevent his satisfied smile when Lando moans and the guys staring at him begin to look deeply aroused by his wriggling. Lando’s skirt is just long enough that they’ll just have to infer what Oscar’s doing to him underneath.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Oscar replies. He palms the front of Lando’s panties, thumbing at the head of his cock where it’s nestled in delicate cotton and lace that grows damp with precum.
Lando’s pleasured wail is instantaneous. His back arches and he has to brace himself against Oscar’s chest.
“You’re so wet, kitten.”
“Oscar!”
Oscar only leans in to kiss at the underside of his jaw, letting his hands roam freely. He feels the tremors as he caresses Lando’s lower belly under the skirt too lightly before doing the same to the insides of his thighs.
Lando looks too cute as he practically begs Oscar to let him come with large eyes hazy with lust and fluffy cat ears.
Who would Oscar be to deny his kitten the cream he wants so badly?
He muffles Lando’s squeal with his own mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabs his cock through his panties and makes him fall apart in front of multiple pairs of eyes that can only watch discreetly as Oscar strokes his teammate until he’s squirming and mewling with oversensitivity.
Cum leaks out of the sides of Lando’s panties as Oscar milks his cock, collecting it all.
When Lando goes limp in Oscar’s lap, blissed out, Oscar lifts his cum-filled hand up to his face and raises an eyebrow. A jolt of heat travels down his spine at the utterly flustered look on Lando’s face as he ducks his head and laps at his own cum with tiny kitten licks.
“Satisfied?” Oscar asks, and his voice comes out hoarse as Lando licks his hand clean, wrapping his lips and swirling his tongue around each finger. It’s obscene, the generous pout of Lando’s lips.
Letting Oscar’s fingers go with a lewd pop, Lando rubs at his belly, unknowingly making Oscar feel insane, and the corners of his mouth curl up. “Kitty’s full of milk.”
“You’ll be full of much more than that as soon as we get out of here,” Oscar promises.
Excited, Lando hops off of Oscar’s lap and nearly collapses as his stockinged legs give out under him, weak from his orgasm. Oscar grabs him by the waist and pulls him close, deeming him safest in the crook of his own body. He rearranged his erection, so it’s not poking Lando in the hip.
“Oh!”
“Fix your skirt, kitten.”
Oscar can feel his team’s blatant staring as he tosses Lando over his shoulder like a sack of rice and ignores his breathless protests in favor of marching towards the exit of the club with as much dignity as possible. He covers Lando’s bum to the best of his ability, jealously guarding those beautiful round cheeks of his.
Lando kicks his legs weakly when they’re out in the empty parking lot, but Oscar doesn’t put him down. He can’t let Lando’s precious toe beans touch the gravel, after all. It’s easier to deposit him in the passenger seat of his rental car and watch him curl up, tucking his feet underneath himself. It’s probably easier that way while he’s still plugged up.
Lando idly plays with his tail, only looking up once he notices that Oscar hasn’t moved since he got in the car.
“Osc?”
Oscar’s head thunks against the steering wheel. “Jesus, don’t you know how ridiculous you look? I need to keep you forever.”
He earns the cutest heart-shaped smile, tiny tooth gap on full display, for his momentary lack of filter.
“Then keep me,” Lando says, stretching out. He puts his feet up on the dash, crossing his ankles. “Pamper me and take me out on dates.”
Oscar feels stupid as he stares at the long, elegant lines of Lando’s legs encased in those cat paw stockings. The meat of his pretty thighs poking out from under his skirt, the taper of strong calves into delicate ankles.
“Osc?” Lando repeats, this time looking a little apprehensive.
“Yeah.” Oscar’s response comes out as an exhale. “I’ll take you out on dates.”
“And kiss me.”
“And kiss you.”
“And fuck me whenever I want you to.”
Oscar laughs as he finally starts the engine. “Cuddles too, Your Highness?”
“Obviously!” Lando is blushing and fiddling with his fluffy gloves when Oscar glances over at him again, like the idea of cuddling gets him more flustered than the idea of sex.
Interesting.
Fortunately, the hotel lobby is empty when Oscar carries Lando in. Even if it wasn’t, he couldn’t care less, too preoccupied with getting Lando in his room, in his bed, so he can finally unwrap his prize.
And see it. All this time, he’s had to use his imagination as his hands mapped out every centimeter of Lando’s body, of the heart-shaped cutout in his panties.
Lando bounces adorably when Oscar sets him down on the bed, he squeaks when he’s immediately turned over onto his front, and he cries out when Oscar lifts his skirt away and bites down on the exposed part of his arse.
“Oh my God?” Lando wails, kicking out, but Oscar catches his ankle and gives his toe beans a placating rub.
It seems to work, as Lando melts into the mattress and lifts his hips higher, back arching impossibly as he gives his butt a cute wiggle and his skirt and tail move invitingly in tandem. He looks like something straight out of Oscar’s darkest fantasies—like this is the culmination of why he started learning Japanese.
Oscar grabs him by the thighs, right where the tops of his stockings dig into his skin, and pulls him backwards, right up against his face. Lando’s breath audibly hitches, like he’s turned on by how easily he’s handled, and he stiffens in shock when Oscar gives into his impulses and licks around the base of his tail.
Reduced to a trembling mess by Oscar’s tongue teasing at his hole, Lando can only moan into the pillow trapped in his arms as he struggles to keep his hips in the air and his butt pressed to Oscar’s mouth instead of rutting down into the sheets. He looks a beautiful mess, especially when he glances over his shoulder at Oscar with teary eyes framed by lashes dark and clumped together.
Oscar yanks on Lando’s tail, this time hard enough that the plug pops right out, reducing him to a whimpering pile. He stares at Lando’s glistening, gaping hole for a moment, committing it to memory, before licking a long stripe over it and humming in satisfaction at the scream he gets in response. His kitten must be so sensitive from being plugged up all evening and then having an orgasm in front of so many prying eyes.
But Lando whines the moment Oscar pulls away, mumbling something about how empty he feels. With a great amount of struggling, he reaches into the pocket of his cropped hoodie and flings the travel-sized packet of lube he fishes out at Oscar, silently demanding him to get on with fucking him.
Despite being a Formula 1 driver, Oscar has never moved so quickly before, undressing and pouring lube over his erection, which hasn’t flagged since Lando decided his lap was the perfect place to rest his butt. Lando peeks over his shoulder at him, staring in clear interest as Oscar pumps his cock a couple times to fully slick it up enough.
He clutches his pillow desperately as Oscar pushes into him slowly, rubbing his flank to get him to relax around the intrusion. By the time Oscar bottoms out, he feels like he’s about to come after holding out for so long, after witnessing what Lando looks like in the throes of pleasure. But he grits his teeth, setting a steady pace and watching his cock disappear between the globes of Lando’s arse, framed so perfectly by the heart-shaped cutout and the pleats of his skirt.
Oscar wishes he could pull out and come all over Lando’s butt or turn him over to mark his tanned midriff and the yellow 81 on his hoodie, but he promised to pump Lando full, so that’s what he does, hiking Lando’s hips higher to fuck him at a better angle and driving the head of his cock into Lando’s prostate with each thrust, coaxing high-pitched moans and gasps from him. He fucks Lando into the mattress, reaching underneath him and sliding a hand into his soaked panties to stroke him in time with his thrusts.
“Oscar,” Lando whines, hiccuping softly, and that’s what tips Oscar over the edge.
Grunting, Oscar’s hips inadvertently push forward at the little broken edge to Lando’s voice, wrecked like he’s been all fucked out. He feels himself come harder than he ever has before, blacking out and regaining consciousness while buried deep inside Lando’s arse.
It’s a dream, having him like this in his cute getup, and Oscar almost regrets pulling out of him, but he plugs him back up with his tail and gingerly flips him over.
Mussed and at risk of fully dislodging his cat ears, Lando gives him a dazed look of confusion before Oscar ducks under the front of his skirt to mouth at his erect cock straining the front of his sticky cum-filled panties. His little shriek as his knees immediately come together makes Oscar smile against the cute bow sitting right above his flushed cock. When Oscar continues kissing and sucking at his clothed crotch, occasionally tonguing at his balls cradled so perfectly in the delicate seat of his panties, Lando can only let out breathy moans and scrabble for purchase in the sheets, toes curling in his stockings, while he writhes and swivels his hips in tiny, aborted motions for any friction.
He comes with a shout the moment Oscar closes his lips around the head of his cock, all but playing with the sensitive underside of it. Oscar’s mouth is filled with warm cum as Lando ruins his panties for the second time.
And he looks so beautiful when Oscar ducks back out from under his skirt, thick lashes fluttering with each heaving breath and his clothes a rumpled mess. His hoodie threatens to ride up, exposing perky nipples that Oscar regrettably didn’t get to play with. Yet.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous when you’re ruined,” Oscar exhales, taking it all in. He presses a kiss to the inside of Lando’s knee and then another further up his thigh just to show him how much he appreciates it.
He peels the soiled panties off of Lando, balling the garment up and giving it a long, filthy sniff before sucking on the fabric for good measure. Anything to have the very essence of Lando in his mouth again. Flustered, Lando screeches and aims a kick at him, but his toe beans bounce harmlessly off of Oscar’s chest.
“I’m keeping these, by the way,” Oscar says, twirling the panties around a finger. “As a souvenir.”
Lando glares at him, but he isn’t quick enough to hide his pleased smile as he turns his face into his pillow. How cute. He looks like a cat, all lazy and satisfied, showing his vulnerable underbelly.
Oscar cups his face, and he goes willingly, tipping his chin up to accept his kiss.
Making out with Lando, sweet and unhurried, might be Oscar’s new favorite activity. A shocked noise is punched out of him when Lando wraps all four limbs around him, crossing his ankles behind his back, and pulls him down onto the bed, all while giggling into his mouth. Oscar barely manages to brace a forearm against the mattress and keep the other wrapped around Lando’s body in a tight embrace.
“To the victor go the spoils- or whatever,” Lando murmurs, unbelievably pretty when he smiles mere millimeters from Oscar’s face.
“You’re calling yourself the spoils?” Oscar teases once he’s regained his breath after being rendered speechless. “I want a refund.”
This time, he anticipates the kick, extracting himself from Lando’s arms and grabbing his foot before it can connect. Just to be somewhat of a dick, he wiggles his eyebrows and presses a swift kiss to the pink pads at the bottom of Lando’s foot, amused when Lando’s cheeks slowly grow redder and redder.
Oscar finds him hugging his pillow when he comes back from the bathroom with a wet washcloth. After being helped out of his hoodie and skirt and flinging his gloves into the corner of the room, Lando hisses at him as he runs it over his spent cock and his lower abdomen, but he eventually relaxes into the sheets, a content puddle.
Once he has tossed the cloth into the pile of clothes and pulled on a pair of joggers, Oscar takes one look at Lando, curled up in his sleep and plugged full of cum, and decides to leave the cat paraphernalia. It’ll be cute to wake up to him in his cat ears and stockings cuddled into the crook of his body anyway.
When morning comes, Oscar certainly does wake up to Lando.
Only it’s Lando crouching over him in nothing but his stockings, the tail plugged in his arse, and the fluffy cat ears still clipped into his hair as he tugs Oscar’s cock free from the confines of his joggers and swallows it down with his fingers wrapped around the base.
“I- what-”
Lando moans around his mouthful, and fuck- his cheek bulges obscenely with the shape of his cock. Oscar lets his head fall back onto his pillow, throwing an arm over his face, and simply lets Lando languidly suck him off, knowing he’ll come undone the moment he looks at the purse of those lips around his dick.
“Good kitty,” Oscar manages weakly, finally finding his voice and the will to stare at the lewd arch of Lando’s back before his vision flashes white, and he’s coming down Lando’s throat.
For a moment, he lets himself watch Lando work to swallow his release and then tugs him up by the back of his neck. Lando smiles like a cat that just got the cream—both literally and figuratively—leaning into Oscar’s touch as he runs a sleepy hand through the hair at the back of his head.
Oscar is perfectly content to keep Lando in his arms, tangling their legs together, but a question weighs on his mind. For a moment, Oscar forgets about it as Lando rubs his face against the light morning stubble lining his cheeks, not unlike a particularly affectionate cat, and he’s pretty sure Lando would be purring if he could.
He only lets Lando’s antics distract him for so long.
“So… how’d you discover that I’d like… all this?”
Lando blinks at him, baleful. “You must think I’m dumber than I am, and you-” he pokes Oscar’s chest, “-are not subtle either. Oh, and I just took a guess with the catgirl stuff.”
“You- I don’t think you’re dumb,” Oscar says and squeezes Lando’s waist. He hikes one of his stocking-clad legs up around his waist to caress it absentmindedly. “And, uh, I didn’t know how much I liked the catgirl stuff until you wore it.”
“You think I’m cute,” Lando chirps, wriggling happily and smacking a kiss to Oscar’s cheek. “Cutest on the grid. If I wore the ears and the tail in the paddock, you’d have to fight everyone else for my attention.”
Frowning, Oscar clutches him tighter. “I’ll put a collar on you.”
Lando hiccups in surprise.