#oopsie brain

The best thing in the off season was that they were fully allowed to fool around, no more holding back with marks or scratches, and finally enough time to centre all of his attention to Oscar's neck. The younger one so sensitive that kissing and biting it almost was enough to make him come—Lando's goal for today. Pink tongue licking over the two twin moles near his adams apple, while Oscars let out a shuddering breath, his small and tender fingers pressing into the Brit's biceps. Sharp teeth finding their favourite spot, the thin skin over his pulse point. Biting, not enough to leave a bruise but enough to make Oscar's whole body shiver before Lando soothed the sting with kisses and gently strokes of his tongue. "Fucking love ya neck. Fucking huge" and still so delicate, like everything on Oscar. Each word was punctuated with another set of kisses. Pink, plush lips working their way from the sharp line of Oscar's jaw down to the thick muscle connecting his neck and his broad shoulders. Warm breath against the wet spots he left in his doing. Nose nuzzling into him, taking in the scent of peppermint and home.

Oscar still can't believe it. That fucking fourth-time world champion Max Verstappen has any interest in him. But here they are, hiding in his own driver's room, Max's lip attached with his neck. The smell of sweat, champagne, and burning rubber overwhelms his senses. Every soft press of the older one's lips feels like a little explosion when he reaches up and buries one of his hands in Max's blond hair. "You did so good, Oscar. You're so perfect. So pretty. I could spend hours just.." Max's voice breaks; instead, he presses another kiss onto Oscar's pale skin. Oscar sighs, leaning his head even more to the side to give Max more access. It's comical how easy he is for this, the way Max could destroy him just with his lips on his neck. Maybe because it's the most vulnerable part of his body, and he is willing to give everything to Max. Even a win.

It's a nice contrast. The hot water cascading down on them, the cold tiles against his bare chest, and Oscar's presence behind him. His hands pressing down between his shoulder blades, snug against the wall, creating a delicious friction on his nipples. "Oscar..." Lando really doesn't care if he sounds pathetic or whiny; all he can think about is Oscar, Oscar, Oscar and the fact that he needs him so much. Sex in the bed is nice; other places are also nice—but in the shower? In Lando's eyes, it's the most intimate thing people can do, because its makes him feel vulnerable and seen. Something Lando allows himself not very often. But when Oscar's hands slip onto his hips and guide his cock between his cheeks, Lando is sure this is what heaven feels like. The weight and steady pressure of Oscar's dick do something funny to his brain. Like everything in his body is centred on Oscar, on the way he feels. And when Oscar finally presses in, he lets out something that sounds awfully like a purr or mewl.