#comets surprises

The first time Oscar bites Logan, it’s an accident. 

Logan had been fast asleep, his back pressed against Oscar’s chest, the excitement of the race week finally wearing him down. Oscar had a hand splayed over Logan’s stomach, the feeling of it rising and falling nearly getting him in the sweet spot between sleeping and dozing. 

Logan had shifted, barely anything really, but suddenly his neck was right there; thick, pale and littered with moles, alive. Oscar had been entranced by the sound of his heartbeat, soft and slow, the blood rushing through the jugular vein. His mouth aches, nosing alongside the vein. Logan smells sweet, delectable and for the taking, neck exposed just for him.

He doesn’t even realize his fangs are out until Logan’s breath hitches, heartbeat almost erratic under the tips of his fangs. The burst of sweet copper snaps him out of his trance, Logan’s sleepy whine causing him to jerk back. 

The wound trickles slowly, the blood beading at the two pinpoints and all Oscar can do is stare, the sweet copper taste still heavy on his tongue. He feels sluggish, whether with fear or something else, he doesn’t know. Not even when Logan peers at him over his shoulder, the blood smearing and some wounded sound slips from the depths of his cracked chest. 

“If you’re gonna bite me, at least let me be awake for it,” Logan grumbles, sea green eyes narrowed at him, fluttering under the weight of sleep, words slurring, “I heard feeling the bite is the best part.” 

Fuck, is all Oscar can think as Logan falls back asleep. 

The second time is less of an accident, a heavy make out session hidden behind the thin door of Logan’s motorhome. Elias had stepped out, something about a dinner with the other trainers, leaving the two to their devices. 

The air had turned heavy the second Elias stepped near the door, fingers pointing at them warningly before the werewolf steps out, the door swinging closed behind him. They last fifteen minutes, the movie nothing but vague blurs of colors and muted dialogue before Logan is on him. 

Oscar can’t help but smile into the kiss, adjusting Logan on his lap so his thighs are over his, the material of his sleep shorts stretching across Logan’s thighs. 

“Eager?” 

“Like you’re not.” Logan says, rolling his hips just right. It usually takes Oscar a while to get to full mast, but the desperation that comes off of Logan is  so thick and heady it messes with Oscar’s senses. 

He grips Logan’s hips, stilling him. The American huffs, his hands flexing from where he had placed them on Oscar’s shoulders. His skin had turned splotchy, blood blooming the longer Oscar kept him still. 

It makes his teeth ache, shifting to make space for the canines. He feels Logan breathing turn heavy, his hips twitching desperately despite the grip Oscar has on him. His head is tilted to the side, skin so taunt Oscar can almost see the blood rushing through the veins. 

He ducks his head, nosing along the tendon, his teeth nipping the skin. Logan sighs, his body sagging into Oscar’s hold. It makes Oscar’s head spin, Logan, as human as ever, giving himself over to Oscar, ignoring the fact that Oscar can drain him dry. 

“Oscar,” Logan whines, his fingers digging into his shoulders, “Cmon, please.” 

Oscar smiles against Logan’s skin,  the tips of his fangs barely piercing into the skin. It’s not rare to get Logan like this, needy and desperate, but his teeth usually were never involved.  Logan pushes into it, mouth dropping open when Oscar moves him, shifting their crotches together. 

“Fuck.” Logan whimpers, grinding down, eyes squeezed shut. It’s between one breath and the next that Oscar digs his fangs in, Logan letting out quite the obscene moan as Oscar’s mouth floods with the metallic copper. 

Logan withers in his grasp, pushing in and out of Oscar’s hold as the venom does its work. Oscar only gives himself a few mouthfuls; Logan tastes delicious, sweet to the point of obsession. 

He laps at the pinpoint marks, his wondrous saliva closing the little marks. Logan is still panting on his lap, hips making aborted little thrusts almost subconsciously. 

Oscar dips a hand into Logan’s waistband, feeling the sticky residue of pre-come. Logan shivers as Oscar wraps a hand around him properly, the dry drag of his hand meeting his weeping tip. 

Logan lets out a whine, head tucked into Oscar’s neck, sucking lightly. It would take forever for Oscar’s blood to clot, but Logan is nothing if not determined. It’s too bad Logan is human, can’t always withstand the things Oscar wants to put him through. 

logan isn’t dumb, he know he can get his eyes to glaze over, make him look like there’s no one home, but he’s not dumb. he just wonders if everyone else is.

oscar’s flushed when he scurries over to logan, his never-fading blush seemingly darker even under the club lights as he clears his throat. his hand flexes over the water bottle logan offers him, eyes a little dazed as logan looks around. the club itself was thrumming with life, the bass so heavy he can feel it in his bloodstream, he gets nudged every so often, bodies bumping into each other as the night carries on.

he almost misses it, the head of curly brown hair bobbing up and down as lando navigates his way through the crowd. oscar is still quiet, zoned out and bottle loosely held in between his hands.

he sees the moment lando spots them, eyes going wide like if he’s surprised to see them. logan knows it’s bullshit when his eyes flit over to oscar, a smug look on his face before it smoothes over. before logan knows it, lando is in front of them, a glass of amber liquid in his hands.

“sorry about your race.” lando shouts over the music, leaned in close enough that logan can catch a whiff of his cologne. there’s something else, something a bit more familiar; he casts a look at oscar, sees him grip the bottle tighter and sighs internally. lando has a sincere apologetic expression on his face and logan shrugs, the sting of crashing in his possible last home race soothed by expensive liquor.

“happens to the worst of us.” he shouts back, but he’s already lost lando’s attention, the brit’s eyes laser focused on a now squirming oscar. he seems a bit entranced, eyes raving over oscar like a man starved.

logan sighs, downing the rest of his drink before snagging lando’s, doing the same before pushing the two together. lando, despite the confidence and smugness he had when he came over, seems to immediately lose it when oscar blinks up at him, brown eyes going all doe-like.

god save me, logan thinks, looking up like if the answers will fall straight into his hands.

“if you hurt him, norris, god help you because i will personally make sure you never finish a race again.” logan says, feeling the way lando tenses at his threat. oscar has been horribly in love with lando since they were kids, and quite honestly, logan’s over it.

he glares at him before leaving the two, making his way towards the exit when he’s snagged by someone. alex grins at him, tossing an arm around him and bringing him close.

“i’m 90% sure i saw lando and oscar shagging in the bathroom.” he says with a knowing grin. logan shakes his head, giving alex a slightly judgmental look.

“you would be the one to catch them,” he says, looking over his shoulder to see that lando and oscar have disappeared, “because you’re a freak with a voyeristic tendencies.”

alex grins knowingly, “you of course, would know all about that wouldn’t you?”

logan rolls his eyes, “you let a guy see you cum once and now he thinks he’s entitled to it.”

he lets himself be lead to the back, alex’s mouth by his ear, “sure, but someone else is curious.”