Amimi

Oscar sighed again, with some added exasperated flair this time, while he propped his chin onto his hand. Unfortunately, he'd always been a little too willing to entertain small annoyances like this when it came from Lando.

That being said, it was late, and he was probably long overdue to head back to his own hotel room given that they both had to be up at a decent hour the following day. Right before Oscar was about to drop his head onto the mattress, giving up on his efforts to continuing offering him his undivided attention, Lando swiped again, and-

What the fuck?

It passed by quick enough that Oscar was half convinced he'd somehow imagined it. But, no, there was no way that was anything except what he thought it was.

A mirror picture of Lando, sprawled back against a chair with his legs spread, no shirt, no trousers, but still wearing his goddamn helmet. He continued scrolling, face still scrunched slightly in focus like Oscar's world wasn't currently collapsing in real time.

"You take nudes in your helmet?" Oscar choked out, the words leaving him unbidden, too quick to second guess his actions.

Lando suddenly looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, the first time he'd let his attention drop from his phone in several minutes now.

"That wasn't a nude, I was wearin' boxers," he replied casually, shrugging. "You don't, though?"

"I- what? No, I- Are you-" he sputtered, his brain short circuiting completely, sure his face must have been going bright red.

Lando, the absolute bastard, laughed. "Seriously? You should, 's fun." He paused briefly. "Reckon you'd look proper fit."

Having absolutely nothing sane to say to that, Oscar simply let out a sharp breath while he ran his hand over his face. "You're actually fucking insane," he murmured, voice slightly muffled from his hand.

The following day during practice, infuriatingly, Oscar couldn't get the night before out of his head. He'd not seen the photo long enough to have a clear image of it in his head, but he found himself filling in the blanks anyway. Conjuring up maddening visuals of Lando wearing nothing but his helmet, the familiar planes of his body on full display with no face to go along with it. Completely hidden by the - ironically, immediately recognizable - branding that Oscar knew all too well.

Standing across the garage from him, Oscar found himself glancing up at Lando an embarrassing amount of times while they got ready. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Lando when he finally put his helmet on - praying that his staring was at least somewhat less obvious given that he was wearing his helmet, too.

He seemed to have no such luck though, Lando's head suddenly turning towards him, meeting his gaze immediately. Oscar's eyes widened slightly in the stress of being caught, but he couldn't bring himself to look away for some reason, no matter how many times he yelled at himself to do exactly that.

Lando moved first, shutting his visor, then finally turning away after a few more seconds that felt like forever.

Oscar almost binned it into the first corner as soon as he started his lap.

Finally in the reprieve of his driver room after practice, Oscar leaned back against his sofa, taking in a deep breath with his head buried into his hands. It felt so stupid that he was getting this absurdly turned on by something that was so ingrained in every part of his life. He'd seen Lando in his helmet more times than he could count, but he'd never been affected by it like this whatsoever.

Right when he started spiraling about it again, his cock kicking unhelpfully under his race suit, his phone vibrated with a notification. He took in another shaky breath before picking it up from beside him.

Today 14:32

[Lando:] 1 Image attached [Lando:] in case you wanted some inspo for your own 14:32

Oscar didn't hesitate for a second to open the text, his hand shaking slightly while he did. And, exactly what he'd assumed when he'd read it-

The exact same goddamn photo from yesterday.

On his phone now, not disappearing no matter how many times he blinked in disbelief.

Oscar felt like his heart was in his throat while he clicked on the image, zooming in, staring unabashedly until he felt like he couldn't breathe. The knowledge that Lando was in the room right beside him all the while physically dizzying, and as tempted as he was to shut his brain off and wank then and there, Oscar's body seemed to have other plans.

He found himself standing up from the sofa without ever having made a conscious decision to do so, his legs seeming to move on their own like a man possessed as he made his way out the door and straight to Lando's room.

Oscar stood there for a long moment before finally knocking.

Lando opened it quick enough that it almost seemed he'd been expecting him, a knowing smirk on his lips while he stepped aside and gestured for Oscar to come in.

"You need somethin'?" Lando asked, shutting the door behind Oscar, who was completely frozen in place by the wall, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

He tried hard to find the words to respond, but god, Lando knew exactly what he was doing. Oscar's eyes darted helplessly between Lando and the helmet on his coffee table, attempting to form a coherent sentence through the painfully distracting ache in his cock.

A quiet, rather embarrassing noise left him while he shifted his weight between his feet.

Thank fucking god, Lando seemed to take pity on him, stepping in close to Oscar after locking the door. He placed a hand low on his waist, causing his breath to hitch immediately, before finally speaking again - his voice a sinful drawl, the intonation of his words something Oscar had never heard from him before.

"Gotta tell me if I'm reading this wrong, mate."

Swallowing hard around the dryness of his own throat, Oscar slowly shook his head, one of his hands moving up to grab a fistful of Lando's shirt. This all felt like some bizarre fever dream. But Lando was suddenly leaning in closer, stopping just short of Oscar's lips to see if he'd flinch away.

Oscar didn't move a muscle, and Lando took the opportunity to close the distance.

The kiss was all encompassing, completely intoxicating, and over far too quickly for Oscar's liking when Lando pulled away again.

"Then get on your knees and close your eyes, Osc."

Oscar had no idea what the fuck had come over him, but hearing that from Lando had him obeying immediately, his body still feeling like it was moving on autopilot. He sunk down to his knees, barely even registering the hard surface of the floor beneath him while his eyes drifting shut.

Not being able to see made the anticipation of the moment a thousand times stronger. He listened to the vague shuffling in the room, footsteps, fabric, a quiet clatter. And fuck, that was definitely a zipper.

Oscar nearly jumped out of his skin when he suddenly felt Lando's hand grabbing a gentle hold of his jaw. His eyes shot open on pure instinct, immediately gasping at the sight he was met with.

Lando had removed his fireproofs, now completely bare-chested, his race suit hanging pornographically low on his hips. And, the most dizzying part - his helmet now on, visor shut completely.

Oscar almost came at the sight alone of Lando standing above him like that.

He blinked up at him a few times, wanting to burn the image into his brain forever. His own cock was painfully hard, but he wanted nothing more than to have Lando in his mouth at that moment - perfectly content to spend his life unmoving from that exact position.

"Go on, then," Lando said, his voice low and muffled from the barrier.

Hearing the permission had Oscar moving into action immediately. His hands trembled slightly while he grabbed onto the fabric hanging off of Lando's hips, pulling it down to mid thigh along with his boxers. He had no sort of patience in that moment to drag it out, he needed Lando in his mouth ten minutes ago. Needed it yesterday.

Oscar's breath caught in his throat when he watched Lando's cock spring free, rock hard, precome already beading at the tip. He was massive, like Oscar had always suspected, and for a brief moment he was worried about how successful he'd be in actually taking him. But, he was desperate and eager, practically fucking starving for it, and figured that his enthusiasm would make up for any inability to get him all the way in his mouth.

Oscar finally wrapped a hand around the base of Lando's cock, his pulse thudding loudly in his ears while he leaned in, licking a long, slow stripe up the underside before taking the tip of it between his lips. He was immediately addicted to the taste of him, the feeling of him, hot and rock hard and heavy against his tongue. He moaned around him while looking up at Lando through his lashes, exhaling sharply through his nose - god, he was positive he'd never been more turned on in his life. 

Lando's hand quickly grabbed hold of Oscar's hair, a muffled moan leaving him, only further encouraging him.

As he took him deeper in his mouth, Oscar quickly found himself obsessed with the stretch of his lips around him. He hollowed out his cheeks while he began to bob his head, sinking further down with every movement until he found it slightly constricting. He focused hard on trying to take in steady breaths through his nose, but it felt like a bit of an impossible task - not that he cared. Oscar was fully convinced he'd be happy passing out like this.

He could faintly hear Lando's laboured breathing through the helmet, muffled curses leaving him every few moments, his grip tightening in Oscar's hair. Suddenly, Lando's hips were twitching forward into his mouth just barely, and fuck. Oscar didn't realise how badly he'd needed that. He hummed encouragingly, a slightly choked sound, while stilling his movements.

"Jesus, Osc, y'want me to use you? Want me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours?"

Through the haze of his own thoughts as well as how difficult it was to hear Lando with how low he was speaking, Oscar wasn't sure how much of what he heard was just his own brain filling in the blanks. Maybe just wishful thinking supplied by his own perversion. But regardless, he hummed desperately again in agreement, blinking up at him with now slightly teary eyes from exertion.

Lando let out a slightly strangled noise with the first shallow thrust forward into his mouth. He set a slow pace like that, not wanting to push Oscar too far too fast - but it didn't take long until he was going deeper, his movements a bit less controlled.

Oscar had to focus hard on not gagging now. One hand shot down to his own cock, taking the opportunity of getting to shut his focused efforts off to palm needily at himself over his own race suit. The feeling was immediately near overwhelming, tears now falling freely down his cheeks while Lando fucked deeper into his mouth,

The sound of the room was obscene, and if Oscar was any less close to the edge he probably would have been worried about someone overhearing. But, god, Lando was tugging at his hair a bit harder, breathy moans leaving him with nearly every thrust now, his pace getting clearly a bit desperate and stuttered.

"Fuck," Lando choked out, his helmet tilting back for a moment before looking back down at Oscar. "Gonna- Jesus, 'm close. So fuckin' perfect like this."

His hand loosened in Oscar's hair like he was giving him the opporunity to back away if he wanted, but Oscar wasn't even considering it. He stayed right where he was, the movements of his hand getting desperate while he chased own orgasm.

It was only seconds later before Lando was moaning loudly while he thrust into his mouth again, deeper now, and Oscar couldn't stop himself from gagging this time around. The feeling of Lando's come shooting down his throat was more than enough to send Oscar over the edge himself, letting a choked moan around his length while he tried hard to prevent his legs from collapsing down underneath him.

He vaguely processed the string of muffled curses that left Lando, but was too focused on the white hot pleasure taking over his own body, his hips jutting forward against his palm.

When Lando finally pulled out, the hand that had been gripping onto Oscar's hair began soothing gently over it instead, but Oscar could barely feel it with how desperate his body was to take in a full gasp of air again. The relief of being able to breathe unrestricted was amazing, but it simultaneously almost felt wrong, already missing the feeling of him in his mouth.

Oscar's eyes fluttered shut while he let his forehead fall against Lando's thigh, still panting while he finally began to focus on the feeling of his large hand carding through his hair.

A couple minutes later, neither of them having said a word yet, Lando had helped Oscar to his feet, both of them collapsing down onto the sofa against each other. It was only then that Oscar could register the aching of his knees, the burn in his jaw, the general fatigue taking over his whole body with the added overstimulation of an uncomfortable stickiness in his boxers.

Regardless, all he could think about was how desperately he needed to do that again, as soon as possible.

It was almost bizarre seeing Lando's face again after he took his helmet off. Something in his brain refused to compute that he was the same person that Oscar had just experienced all of that with. It was a bit of a mindfuck, really.

Lando spoke up first, his fingers still combing gently through Oscar's hair.

"…Does this mean I can send you my actual helmet nudes now?"

Oscar nearly choked again.