Aftermath

by Fireheart117

Summary:

Lando and Charles both DNF at the Dutch Grand Prix. Lando is desperate to get his mind off of it.

Lando hadn’t really spoken to Charles since that night in Hungary. He felt bad about it, but he didn’t think Charles was all that bothered; he had bigger issues than waiting for Lando to talk to him. After Lando won in Hungary, he had considered making good on his promise and going to see Charles, but he couldn’t do it. It felt like… rubbing Charles’ face in it, or something. Like, he stole his victory, and then thought he could fuck him after? It didn’t seem right.

 

 So he just didn’t say anything. Didn’t go to his room. And Charles never brought it up, not reaching out over summer break and saying nothing except a casual hello to him and Oscar both when they walked past him in the paddock on Friday. 

 

Lando had assumed correctly about it being a one-time thing, then. And it was ok, really. It would be silly to think that Charles, Charles, would want something with Lando. It just didn’t make sense. 

 

The fact that it didn’t make sense was not on his mind now, though. Lando was standing in front of Charles’ hotel room door, grateful that Pierre had known his room number and been willing to share it when Lando had said he wanted to commiserate with Charles about their results today. Lando’s chest was tight with misery and anxiety, brain racing a million miles a minute with worry over his WDC charge. Today was absolute hell, one of his worst days as a driver, and there was only one thing he wanted. 

 

He lifted his hand and tentatively knocked. 

 

His breath whooshed out of him when Charles appeared, his hair slightly mussed and still damp, looking just as miserable as Lando felt. But misery looked different on Charles, he simply looked… beautiful. Like a fallen angel, the subject of a renaissance painting, one of those about religious angst. 

“Oh— Lando.” Charles looked surprised to see him, like maybe he was expecting someone else to be behind the door. 

“I, uh… Hey, Charles,” Lando stuttered. “I’m sorry, were you expecting someone else? I can go…” he trailed off, awkwardly looking down at his feet. 

“No, no of course not,” Charles sounded more normal now, like he had recovered from his shock. “Please, come in.” 

Lando blinked up at him and then shuffled into his room,  regretting his choice to show up at Charles’ door like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry for showing up, uh, unannounced, I should’ve, I dunno, texted you first,” Lando mumbled, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. 

“Lando, it’s ok,” Charles assured him. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Really?” Lando perked up a bit at that.

“Yes, of course.” Charles reached out, gently resting his hand on Lando’s shoulder. “You’re the only person that knows how I feel tonight. Except for Lewis, of course, but he isn’t one to talk when these things happen.” Charles shrugged, a frown tugging at his lips. “And of course, you are worried about the points gap with Oscar and not winning the WDC.” 

Lando’s face crumpled at that, and he sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Pretty much.” 

“Sit down,” Charles said gently, steering Lando to the padded chair by the desk. Lando collapsed into the chair, dropping his head into his hands. 

“I’m sorry,” Lando said again, mumbling into his palms. “I’m sorry for showing up like this, in this mood, when you had a shit day too and probably just want to be alone and now I’m here moping around your room and I shouldn’t even be here.” He was rambling now, guilt making the words spill out. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Lando,” Charles murmured, almost a whisper. Lando looked up at him. Charles was leaning against the desk, gazing gently at Lando. He seemed sad, understandably, but there was an acceptance to his sadness. Like he was used to it, like this was his normal state of being. Lando’s stomach twisted when he realized that was probably true, that his time at Ferrari was so often like this. 

“I just… I just want…” Lando’s throat choked up, and he swallowed, dropping his head back in his hands. 

“What do you want, Lando?” Charles was so, so gentle. It made Lando want to cry. 

“I just want to feel better,” he whispered, unable to look at Charles. Unable to handle the pity in his gaze, the knowing look, the understanding that Lando had lost this championship. 

“What will make you feel better?” Charles asked. 

“You,” Lando mumbled. He heard Charles push off the desk and step in front of him, but he didn’t look up. 

“What can I do?” 

“Fuck me.” 

Lando didn’t see it, but he could feel Charles freeze at his words. The silence stretched on, so long that Lando was about to stutter out an apology and run away when Charles finally spoke.

“Look at me, Lando.” He didn’t sound angry, but his command was firm. Lando looked up. 

Charles was gazing down at him, concern stitching his eyebrows together. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I already told you.”

“Tell me again.” 

Lando swallowed roughly, forcing himself to hold Charles’ gaze. 

“I— I want to forget about today. I want to forget about this season.” His voice sounded hoarse. 

“Ok,” Charles replied calmly, clearly waiting for Lando to continue.

“Will you—“ His face was burning with embarrassment. “Please fuck me,” he finally whispered, strangled. 

Charles sighed, finally reaching out and tucking his fingers under Lando’s jaw, tilting his face up. 

“Are you sure?” Charles asked, green eyes searching Lando’s for any hint of uncertainty. 

“I’m sure. Please, Charles.” Lando felt insane, like he was going to end up on his knees begging and pleading if Charles didn’t agree soon. 

Charles sighed again, gently brushing his thumb over Lando’s trembling lips. 

“I’ll be good,” Lando said, panic rising in his voice. “I’ll do what you want, maybe you’ll feel better too…” he trailed off at the look on Charles’ face.

“Lando, I know you’ll be good.” Charles sounded sad, and Lando wasn’t sure if it was for himself or because Lando was being so pathetic.

Lando’s eyes fell closed and he nuzzled into Charles’ hand, hoping he had finally convinced him. 

“I just…” Charles murmured. Lando’s heart seized, feeling a denial coming. “Are you sure this will help?”

“Yes, I am sure,” Lando was almost whining now, desperate. 

“Have you ever…?” Charles cleared his throat. “Have you bottomed?” 

Lando chewed at his lip.

“Uh, yeah, a few times.” 

Charles nodded slowly, his other hand coming up to stroke Lando’s curls. 

“How do you want it?” Charles asked. 

Lando blinked up at him, not sure what Charles was asking. 

“Rough, gentle, slow?” Charles listed off.

“Not gentle,” Lando interrupted quickly. “I don’t deserve— I don’t want that.” He swallowed roughly. Charles just nodded, a contemplative look on his face. 

“Please, Charles. I need this.” Lando twisted his fists in the hem of Charles shirt, desperation taking over. 

“Get undressed and kneel by the bed,” Charles commanded, pulling his hands away and stepping back. Lando scrambled to obey, tossing his clothes into the corner before dropping to his knees, looking up at Charles and panting. 

Finally, finally he was getting something he wanted. 

Charles just looked at him. His eyes trailed slowly over Lando’s naked form, looking so intently that Lando started to squirm under his gaze. 

“Charles…”

“Shh, Lando,” Charles murmured, stepping closer and sitting on the bed in front of Lando.

“Please—“

“I said to be quiet.” Charles grasped Lando’s curls again, tugging his head back. The sting on his scalp had a whine slipping from Lando’s mouth. 

“Are you going to be good?” Charles asked.

“Yes,” Lando gasped, blinking wetly up at the beautiful man above him. 

“Good.” His grip on Lando’s hair loosened. “I want your mouth on me.” 

Lando didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately unbuttoned Charles’ jeans, fingers trembling as he pulled them down. Charles huffed a laugh at his eagerness, pulling his own shirt off while Lando finished undressing him, shoving his boxers down with his jeans. Without hesitation, he wrapped his hand around Charles’ half-hard cock and guided it to his mouth, groaning at the salty taste of pre-come on his tongue. Charles’ breath stuttered, hands going back to Lando’s head as Lando began working him, his tongue swirling around the head. 

Lando felt feral, insane, his mind absolutely racing as he sucked at Charles with vigor. By the time he had most of Charles down his throat, choking around the intrusion, he was clutching Charles’ thighs so hard he knew he was going to leave bruises. He just felt… Crazy. Completely unhinged. 

And of course Charles could tell. 

“Lando,” Charles tugged gently on his hair, one hand going to Lando’s cheek and holding gently. Lando glanced up at him, mouth still stretched wide around his cock. 

“Stop,” Charles said. Lando blinked in confusion, moving to pull off of Charles, but Charles tightened his grip, holding Lando still. “No, I didn’t say to pull off. Just stop.” 

Lando hummed, uncertainty written on his face. 

“You need to calm down,” Charles murmured gently, his thumb stroking across Lando’s cheekbone. “Just… stay.” 

Lando realized suddenly what Charles wanted from him. To just sit here, his cock down his throat... he had heard of this, heard that it was supposed to be a great way to calm your mind, but he had never tried it. He whined again, his hands slowly relaxing on Charles’ thighs. He swallowed once, letting his jaw relax around Charles.

“That’s it,” Charles said. “Good boy.” 

The words were like a lightning bolt through Lando’s brain, and he moaned loudly, sinking further down on Charles, his eyes falling closed. Charles kept stroking his face, carefully maneuvering Lando’s head so he could rest it against his hip. His cock was a comfortable weight on Lando’s tongue, and his mind was starting to feel deliciously fuzzy, all of his thoughts taken over by the feel of Charles, the taste, the way his strong fingers carded through Lando’s hair. It was heaven, to finally be outside of his head. 

He didn’t know how long he had been on his knees below Charles when he felt himself being pulled up, Charles gently maneuvering him onto his back on the bed. His mind was hazy, calm and quiet, and he sighed contentedly. Slowly he came back to himself, feeling Charles’ hands along his face, through his hair, down his practically limp body. He opened his eyes, blinking up at Charles.

“You ok?” Charles asked quietly, gently pressing his thumb into the hinge of Lando’s jaw. It was a bit sore. 

“Yeah,” Lando whispered, rolling his shoulders. “That was… thank you.” 

“I thought you needed to calm down.” Charles let his hands trail down Lando’s sides, tickling over his ribs. Lando was finally fully back in his body, and all he could think about was how fucking hard he was. His cock was aching, and he rolled his hips up in hopes of getting some friction against Charles. 

“Can you please,” he gasped, clutching at Charles’ arms. “I still want…” 

“Yeah?” Charles murmured, leaning down to mouth at Lando’s neck. Lando groaned, turning his head to capture Charles’ lips in his. He pulled on him until he was hovering over Lando’s body and wrapped his legs around Charles’ waist, bringing their hips flush together and greedily swallowing the moan that spills from Charles’ lips. Lando thrust again, desperate for the wet friction as their leaking cocks rubbed together. Charles let him, both men gasping at the delicious feeling as they rutted against each other. Too soon, Charles pulled away, grabbing a bottle of lube from the nightstand and moving to kneel between Lando’s spread legs.

“Ready?” Charles asked, sounding breathless. Lando nodded, spreading his legs even further. His chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace, the arousal so heavy he was nearly choking on it. Charles grabbed one of Lando’s legs, throwing it over his shoulder and rubbing one lubed finger over Lando’s tight hole. Lando keened, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut when Charles finally pushed in, his finger popping past his rim. 

“That’s it,” Charles breathed out, his free hand rubbing comforting circles on Lando’s hip. 

It felt so fucking good, Lando’s entire focus zoned in on the pleasant burn as Charles pushed his finger all the way to the knuckle. It wasn’t long before Lando was rolling his hips down, desperate for more. 

“Greedy,” Charles murmured, pulling his finger out and replacing it with two fingers. 

“God, yes,” Lando choked out when Charles started scissoring his fingers, stretching Lando out. 

“More, fuck, please,” Lando gasped, eyes rolling back in his head when Charles would brush against his prostate. He would never get enough of this, of seeing Charles above him, of knowing that Charles Leclerc was touching him. It was almost too much. 

“Roll over, baby,” Charles panted, pulling his fingers out. The emptiness coupled with Charles calling him baby made what sounded suspiciously like a sob rip out of Lando’s throat, but he obliged, turning over and pushing his chest into the mattress. He knew this was one of his best angles; his tan, muscular back arched to show off the deep divot at his spine, his ass in the air and his hole presented for Charles. If his low groan was anything to go by, Charles also thought this was a good angle. Without delay, he palmed Lando’s ass, pulling his cheeks apart and pushing two fingers inside him again. Lando moaned, tears pricking at his eyes when Charles added a third finger. With every pump of his hand he was hitting Lando’s prostate directly, sending sharp stabs of pleasure through him. 

“I, ah, fuck, Charles,” Lando babbled, Charles pulling on his hip to lift him even higher. “I’m gonna come.” Every muscle in Lando’s body was tense, trying to hold off his impending orgasm, but Charles just kept pumping with devastating accuracy. 

“Charles!” Lando was falling apart, the pleasure so intense that he was practically trying to crawl up the bed, away from the man behind him.

“Come for me,” Charles commanded, reaching his free hand around Lando’s body to roughly pump his cock. Lando screamed, his entire body going taught when his orgasm burst through him. The only thing holding him up from collapsing onto the bed was Charles, who had let go of his dick to hold his hip but still had three fingers deep inside Lando, still slowly pumping. On every third pump or so he would lightly tap Lando’s prostate, making Lando gasp each time. 

“Charles,” he finally choked out, voice sounding wet with unshed tears. The overstimulation was verging on painful, but Charles just leaned over his back, kissing along his neck.

“You can take it,” he murmured, before pulling his fingers out. Lando groaned at the empty feeling as his hole clenched around nothing. It felt worse than the overstimulation, but he didn’t have long to be bothered by it before he felt Charles’ cock bump against his hole. He let out a shocked whine, but pushed his hips back nonetheless. He had told Charles he wanted to be fucked, and he meant it.

“Fuck,” Charles grumbled. “Let me find a condom.” Lando felt him shift, going to stand, and he shot his hand out to grab his wrist and hold him in place.

“No, no,” he gasped. “Don’t need one.” 

“Lando…”

“‘m clean, Charles, please, I want it,” he moaned, pushing back again. 

Charles cursed, holding Lando’s hips with a bruising grip. Lando felt him hesitate, so he gave him the final push, the one he knew would work.

“Want to feel you come inside me, please, fill me up,” he whined, turning his face to look at Charles.

“Oh, fuck, Lando,” Charles gasped, his jaw slack with arousal. He pushed forward, giving in to Lando and they simultaneously moaned when his cockhead slipped past Lando’s rim. After only a moment of adjustment, Charles thrust in, sheathing himself fully in Lando with one stroke. Lando was moaning so loud he was sure people in the elevator could hear him, but he didn’t care. He babbled as Charles took him roughly, the overstimulation a sweet combination of pleasure and pain. Charles was groaning words of praise, voice sounding strangled every time Lando’s hole clenched tightly around him. 

“Fuck, Lando, you feel so good,” he gasped, angling Lando’s hips up until he found his prostate again. Lando was writhing below him, mouth open as he sobbed. Charles didn’t relent, pounding at his prostate with each thrust. 

“So fucking hot, just for me, my little hole,” Charles growled, and that was all Lando could handle. His whole body tensed up as he came again, his cock completely untouched and spurting another round of come into the bedding.

“Oh my god,” Charles gasped at the feeling of Lando tightening around him like a vice, at the image of him coming untouched and sobbing into the bed. Seeing Lando totally boneless now, just a hole for Charles to use, is what finally sent him over the edge, pulling Lando even further onto his cock as he filled him with his come. 

Lando wasn’t even present, his mind completely fuzzy when Charles finally released his hips, slowly lowering his body to the bed and collapsing on his back. Lando was limp, sated, and finally completely relaxed with the weight of Charles like one of those anxiety blankets over him. 

He didn’t know how long it was before Charles pushed himself up on his forearms, slowly pulling out of Lando’s body. Lando whined, discomfort setting in, and Charles pressed an apologetic kiss to his shoulder before pushing back to sit on his knees. He stayed there for a moment, one hand gently kneading Lando’s ass.

“What are you,” Lando slurred his words, weakly looking back at Charles.

“Just enjoying the view,” Charles replied, still out of breath but sounding smug as he stared at his come leaking out of Lando’s abused hole. 

“Charles,” Lando whined, face burning in embarrassment as he hid it in the sheets. Charles just laughed, finally getting up and fetching a damp washcloth from the bathroom. He gently cleaned Lando up, then tossed the used rag into the corner of the room and collapsed on the bed next to Lando’s limp body. He gently ran his fingers along Lando’s back, tracing light patterns along the tan skin. 

“I’ll go, as soon as my legs work again,” Lando mumbled, eyes closed. 

“Mm. You can stay,” Charles said, reaching down to pull the clean section of the duvet over them. 

“Yeah?” Lando asked, opening one eye to peek at the beautiful man next to him. 

“Mhm.” Charles shuffled down, getting comfortable, and reached over to turn the lamp off. 

“Do you feel better?” Charles eventually asked into the darkness of the room, breaking their silence. 

Lando swallowed. 

“I don’t feel anything,” he replied, honest. 

Charles sighed, gently rolling Lando’s body so he was on his side and Charles could spoon him. 

“That’s ok.” He answered simply. 

They fell asleep together, the heaviness of the day finally pulling them under and hope for Monza just beginning to grow in their chest. 

Notes:

I simply had to write this 😭 So I was actually AT ZANDVOORT and had to watch both of my favorite drivers DNF. What a horrible weekend.
Also, I know I am so behind on updating Faking It, but I couldn't write about Landoscar without getting this out of my system first.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy and maybe it makes you feel a tiny bit better about what happened this weekend. Comments are so appreciated and are my lifeblood!!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Charlando