Chapter Text
Oscar had seen the lacy neon yellow underwear be handed jokingly to Lando by someone in the crowd, probably just to make him giggle and blush, which it definitely did. But what he didn’t count on was walking into their motorhome to see Lando wearing them.
“Oh fuck, um-” Oscar turned around abruptly and looked up at the ceiling, anywhere except at his friend who was stood in front of the mirror in a t-shirt and sweatpants that he had pulled down slightly with one hand to reveal the neon fabric. “I’m sorry, they said I had to wait in here because there are fans outside…” Oscar mumbled, still keeping his focus on a small crack on the ceiling. Someone should sort that out.
“Okay.” Lando's voice was soft and high, as it often was when he was nervous. The silence was devastating. “I was just- it was a joke. It was stupid.”
“No no, it's fine, um. I should have knocked.” Yeah that crack in the ceiling could lead to a leak, Oscar is sure of it. If he stares long enough maybe it'll burst open and he'll be sucked out into the ether and won't have to deal with this conversation.
“They looked stupid anyway, I don't know why I-”
“Nah, they looked good.” Oscar froze, not meaning to let his mouth run away with itself. “I mean, like, the colour suits you. Obviously, because that's the color of your helmet so I'm just used to it I guess.” He was rambling and he couldn't stop. “You wouldn't pick that colour if you didn't like it.”
“Osc,” Lando said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Can you not tell anyone please?” His voice was so impossibly small that it made something inside Oscar hurt.
Although he was still boring a hole into the ceiling, he could see in his periphery that Lando still had his sweatpants on, now pulled up, the underwear was no longer visible. A pang of lust vibrated through him at the thought that Lando was still wearing them.
“Wait, are you hard?” Lando asked with an air of bemused disbelief, absolutely zero shame at blurting out the obvious.
It had been a rough few months after Oscar's break up, with little to no time to himself. Not that he was looking to meet someone. But going from a high school sweetheart when no one knew who you were to being single and well known was a difficult transition, especially when it came to wanting a simple hook up to take the edge off.
So yeah, he was a bit frustrated. And whatever this was, wasn't helping apparently.
He shifted slightly on the spot but there was absolutely no hope in hiding the increasing stiffness in his shorts.
“You are such a dark horse, Oscar!” he said, grinning madly. “Do you want to see them again?” He said it teasingly enough that it could be passed off as a joke, but Oscar could only swallow thickly because, yes, he really did want to see them again.
Typical Lando, rushing into an idea at a million miles an hour without thought to the consequences. And typical of himself, he thought, to be dragged along for the ride.
Lando didn't wait for an answer, and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and tugged them down so they landed unceremoniously at his ankles, before stepping out of them and kicking them aside.
“They are,” Oscar cleared his throat as his voice caught, “very nice.” His cheeks are flushed an enigmatic shade of red and he was surprised there was any blood flow left to go to his dick.
The hand on Oscar's shoulder squeezed briefly, trying to get the blonde’s attention. “How would you know, mate? You're looking anywhere except at me.”
“There's, like, a crack in the ceiling, right there, look,” Oscar pointed out, still not daring to tear his gaze away.
He could practically hear the grin that split across Lando's face, and the hand that was on Oscar's shoulder moved to tilt his chin downwards, forcing him to look at the obscene picture in front of him.
The neon colour highlighted Lando's sun kissed skin and the lace grazed his body perfectly. And most surprisingly, the hard length of his cock was clearly outlined, straining against the fabric.
“Do you want to touch them?” Lando asked shyly.
God, Lando was going to be the death of him.
“Yeah,” he breathed, and the air around them crackled with a frisson of energy. Despite his answer, his limbs didn't move and he remained frozen to the spot, staring into Lando's green eyes that seemed to change colour the longer he looked, still afraid to allow himself to look anywhere else.
Lando took his hand, watching Oscar carefully for any hint of displeasure and placed the hand on his waist, where the lace sat delicately at his hip. Instinctively, Oscar’s thumb started stroking the area in small movements and he could feel the goosebumps prickle along Lando’s skin. He let his forefinger dig under the waistband so could roll the fabric between his fingers.
“Feels soft,” he whispered.
“You gonna give me more than that?” Lando squeaked, hopefully. The smaller man liked praise. He knew it from every time Max or Zak told him he did a good job, and he could see the desperation in his eyes to cling on to any shred of gratification.
Everyone thought of Lando as being full of bravado, charging through race after race like he belonged there, easily taking on pros like Max and Charles without fear. But Oscar had seen behind the curtain at, what was, the scared boy who just wanted to be liked.
Oscar cleared his throat nervously. “They look really good. Um, they look hot. Really hot.” He wasn't the best at giving praise but Lando still preened at his words, relishing the compliment.
“Can I see what you’re wearing?” Lando asked, reaching a hand forward to play with the drawstring of his shorts, fingertips ghosting slightly over the tenting below.
“It’s just regular boxers,” Oscar replied dumbly.
“I kind of want to see them anyway.”
“Okay.” Oscar used his free hand to shove his shorts to the floor, refusing to remove the one currently resting on Lando’s hip.
Lando daringly reached forward and cupped Oscar’s painfully hard cock through his boxers, and Oscar let out an uncharacteristic loud moan. “Oh yeah, these are hot too,” Lando breathed, letting his hand gently massage the hard length of his cock, even if his hand was trembling.
Seemingly emboldened by Oscar's aroused state, neither of them backing down yet from whatever dangerous game they'd decided to play, Lando wrapped an arm around Oscar's waist until their cocks were almost brushing against each other, separated by thin fabric. He could feel the heat emanating from Lando's body.
Oscar's breath hitched and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of Lando's waist. His hips rolled forward on instinct, desperate for some sort of friction, then pulled back like he'd been burned.
“Wait, oh god, Christ, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-”
Lando grabbed a handful of Oscar's ass and used it to grind their hardened cocks together forcefully. Oscar's free hand flew to Lando's other hip and used it as leverage to thrust harder, his gaze looking down at where their bodies met intently, already feeling the sweet pool of arousal tingling along his spine.
Lando leaned forward and sank his teeth into the exposed skin of Oscar's neck, and Oscar hissed at the sensation, mostly out of shock rather than pain. But he couldn't deny that his cock twitched.
“What are you doing?” Oscar asked, mildly amused, holding Lando's hips still for a moment.
“I don't know, it just felt too good,” he replied shyly, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I just needed to…” in demonstration, Lando bit down gently on Oscar's collarbone again.
“I like it,” Oscar said after a moment. “But maybe only where people can't see?”
Lando's eyes lit up at the permission, and he made quick work of sliding his hands up Oscar's chest and removing his t-shirt in the process. Lando dipped his head down and sucked a biting kiss into Oscar's shoulder, and the taller man shuddered at the feeling.
“Fuck, okay yeah, that feels good,” Oscar groaned as Lando made quick work of biting more small mementos onto his collarbone for him to admire tomorrow in the mirror.
His skin was on fire after the lack of touch for so long, and Lando appeared to be making up for lost time as his hands caressed all over Oscar's body.
“How do you even look like this?” Lando gasped, breathing heavily.
“Like what?”
“You're just like, your shoulders are so big-” Lando put his hands on the broad muscles before dragging them down to his waist, cinching it with his fingers. “-and your waist.” He swallowed, eyes sparkling with lust, and Oscar felt like he was being taken apart and devoured just from the way Lando is looking at him.
“Are you going to take your shirt off?” Oscar asked, suddenly desperate to see the planes of tanned skin that he'd seen so many times before. It felt different to want to see it now; now that he was allowed to look, even touch.
“Do you want me to?”
Oscar nodded before he'd even finished the sentence.
“Come on,” Lando said, grabbing Oscar’s hand and leading him to his bedroom, which was somehow already scattered in crumpled clothes and rumpled bedsheets. They only arrived a few hours ago. It was actually almost impressive how the smaller man managed to cause this much chaos in that time.
“You could have at least made your bed,” Oscar teased as Lando swept all the clothes from the duvet onto the floor.
“I wasn't expecting company!”
For a moment, it became awkward, now they weren't pressed against the heat of each other's bodies. Lando was the first to break the stalemate, taking a few steps over to Oscar and lifted his arms in the air to let him remove Lando's shirt.
Savouring the moment, Oscar slides his fingers tentatively under the fabric, dragging his thumbs over the rippled muscles. His heart is pounding in his ears and his mouth is simultaneously watering at the thought of pressing his lips to the expanse of muscle, but also bone dry from nerves.
Sliding his hands up Lando's sides, he pulled the shirt off and laid it gently over the back of the chair next to him, which pulled a chuckle from Lando.
“Have you ever done anything like this before, Osc?”
Oscar shook his head. He assumes a few drunken kisses at a club with men he can't remember when he was younger doesn’t count. “You?”
Lando also shakes his head, a shy smile playing at his lips. “Should we be doing this?” he whispered. He knows Lando has probably asked that to make what they were about to do sound more scandalous, but it just brings Oscar crashing down to reality.
He knows the answer is no.
They are teammates, practically rivals, and this is only going to complicate things surely.
“Maybe we shouldn't…”
Lando looks disappointed and steps back out of Oscar's embrace like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. “Yeah, this was a stupid idea. Sorry.”
“Nah, it's cool. Um.” He stood in the middle of Lando's room like an NPC waiting for the next cut scene. “I should probably go…”
He pointed at the door and turned awkwardly, padding out of the room and collecting his clothes from the living room as he went to his own bed. Lonely and horrendously frustrated.