For my pride and opportunity
https://archiveofourown.org/works/90455216
"Congrats on the podium." Oscar bites the inside of his cheek as he stares at the floor. Anywhere but Carlos' eyes.
"Would you like some water, or-"
"I want you to fuck me, Carlos, Christ,” Oscar spits out and feels the tips of his ears grow warm. It sounds petulant and childish, even to his own ears. Usually, he wouldn't be so impatient, but it's been a long day, and Carlos always brings something out in him. Classic Carlos.
Or, Oscar and Carlos after Qatar 2025.
















