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The hotel corridor is silent at 11 p.m. Lando makes no sound on the thick carpet as he moves from his room to the one three doors down. He doesn't knock. Oscar always leaves the door unlocked.
Inside, the only light comes from a small bedside lamp. Lando finds Oscar on the bed, lying on his back. His brown hair spread against the pillow. He's not asleep. His chest rises and falls in slow, deliberate breaths, as if he’s been waiting. Lando doesn't speak. He pulls his t-shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. His cock is already half-hard, stirring at the sight of Oscar's body in the dim light. He climbs onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of Oscar's hips. He settles his weight down, feeling the heat of Oscar's body beneath him. Oscar's hands come up,palms flat against Lando's chest. Lando's skin is warm and damp from the shower, smelling of the hotel's shampoo.
"Been waiting long?" Lando asks in a low voice.
Oscar shakes his head. His hands slide up from Lando's chest to his shoulders, nails grazing the skin lightly. "Knew you'd come."
Lando leans down and presses his mouth to Oscar's throat, right over the pulse point. He feels it hammering beneath his lips, fast and hard. Oscar's head tilts back, exposing more skin. Lando's tongue traces the column of his throat,like he's tasting a dessert. Oscar's hips shift beneath him, a small, involuntary movement. His cock is hard now, pressing against the inside of his boxers, visible through the cotton. Lando feels it against his own thigh.
"Look at you," Lando murmurs, pressing his face against Oscar's skin. "Already desperate."
Oscar doesn't answer. His fingers tighten on Lando's shoulders, pulling him closer. Lando sits up slightly, just enough to look down at Oscar's face. In the low light, Oscar's eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. Lips are parted, and his chest is flushed pink, spreading from his collarbones down to his sternum.
Lando kisses the bruise he made on Oscar's thigh last time, then reaches down and hooks his fingers into the waistband of Oscar's boxers. He pulls them down slowly, deliberately, watching Oscar's face as the fabric drags over his cock. Oscar's breath catches. His cock springs free, hard and leaking, the tip wet against his stomach.
Lando takes it in his hand. Oscar's whole body jerks. His hips thrust up once, involuntarily, into Lando's grip. Lando squeezes, just enough to make Oscar's eyes flutter closed.
"Look at me," Lando says in a husky whisper.
Oscar frowns but opens his eyes. They're glassy and unfocused. Lando strokes him slowly, watching every micro-expression that crosses Oscar's face.The way his jaw tenses. The way his lips press together. The way his chest stops moving entirely when his thumb passes over the head, spreading the wetness there.
"I want to be inside you," Lando says. It's not a question.
Oscar nods, a quick, jerky motion. "Yeah. Yes. Please."His voice is low as if it is a sigh.
Lando releases his cock and reaches for the bedside table. Oscar always leaves the bottle there, in the same drawer. Lando's fingers close around it. He sits back on his heels, between Oscar's spread thighs, and pours lube into his palm.
Oscar's legs fall open wider, bending his knees. His body is already responding, anticipating. When Lando's slick fingers find his entrance, Oscar's hips tilt up, inviting him in.
The first finger slides in easily. Oscar is already prepared. He did this earlier, Lando knows, while he was waiting. The thought makes Lando's cock throb.
"You did this already," Lando says, "Got yourself ready for me. Good boy."
Oscar's face flushes darker. He doesn't answer, there's no need to explain now. The evidence is there in how easily Lando's finger sinks in, how Oscar's body opens for him without resistance.
Lando adds another finger. Oscar's mouth opens on a silent gasp and grip the sheets besides him. Lando watches the way his muscles clench, the way his cock twitches against his stomach with every movement of his fingers inside him.
"You like this," Lando says. "Being opened up. Waiting for me."
Oscar only respond with a broken sound from the back of his throat. His hips start to move, fucking himself back onto Lando's fingers in small, desperate movements. Lando curls his fingers, searching. When he finds the spot, Oscar's whole body seizes. A real sound this time, a choked cry that he cuts off by biting his finger.
"Osc," Lando says, pulling Oscar's hand away. "I want to hear you.Could you do this for me?"
Oscar's eyes are wet. His chest heaves while speaking，"Someone will hear."
"Let them."
Lando adds a third finger. Oscar's body stretches around him, hot and tight. Lando fingers him until Oscar is shaking, legs trembling, and begging without words——just sounds and the desperate push of his body onto Lando's hand. Then Lando pulls his fingers out. Oscar makes a sound of loss, high and needy. His eyes find Lando's, questioning.
Lando slicks his cock with more lube, spreading it over the length, making himself wet and slick. He positions himself at Oscar's entrance, the head of his cock pressing just barely inside.Oscar's body clenches around nothing, trying to pull him in.
"Tell me what you want,babe." Lando says softly, with hands grabbing Oscar's waist .
Oscar's voice is wrecked when it comes. "You. I want you inside me. Please, Lando. Please."
Lando smiles. He pushes in.
Oscar's body opens for him, accepts him and pulls him deeper. The heat is immediate and overwhelming. Oscar is watching him with a strong sense of desire. His face is flushed, lips swollen from biting them.
The stillness last a few seconds. Lando starts to move, tentative shallow thrusts at first, quickly deepening into heavier, more forceful ones. Each push slid Oscar further up toward the headboard. Lando reaches out to cushion his head, preventing it from hitting. The small gesture is so tender, making a strange contrast to the rhythm of his hips.
Oscar's body grips him on every withdrawal, tries to keep him inside. His legs have wrapped around Lando's waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper. The sound of their bodies coming together fills the room. Wet, rhythmic and obscene. Lando's breathing is ragged now, his chest heaving. Sweat drips from his hair, from the ends of his dark curls, landing on Oscar's chest.Oscar's hands are everywhere,helplessly gripping Lando's shoulders or his back. He can't help sobbing and moaning desperately, sounds falling out with every thrust. Please. Yes. Lando.
Lando shifts the angle, pushing deeper and harder. Oscar tries to say something,but only cries out in a helpless voice. "Wait, Lando...slow down," He finally managed, his voice is shattered by the motion.
"But your body is telling me you want more."
Lando doesn't stop, only ease his pace slightly while tightening his grip on Oscar's waist, pulling him deeper. When he hit a certain spot with precision, Oscar's protest dissolved into a short, breathless whine, his body involuntarily clenching around him. Lando responds with a satisfied sigh. "How do you always behave so well for me?" he breathes deeply, with voice softly against Oscar's ear. "You like this right,sweetheart?
Oscar nods. He can't think properly now. He's holding his breath to suppress every moan, only allowing himself to gasp during the brief pauses. Tears blur his sight, his nails unconsciously dug into Lando's back, hard enough to leave marks. The line between pain and joy blurred. It wasn't simple ache anymore, but a strange, overwhelming sense of being filled.
The sensation is too vast, too unfamiliar, almost too much to bear.His whines turn high in a sudden. Strips of white spill across his stomach and his chest. His body clenches around Lando,pulling him tighter. He grabs Lando so hard,making him almost breathless. Lando feels his own orgasm building and rushing toward him. He fucks into Oscar through it, through the clenching and the shaking, deep thrusts that press all the way in before pulling almost all the way out, chasing his own release.
It hits him hard. His hips stutter, press deep, hold there as he comes inside Oscar. He feels the heat of it, the pulse of it, the way Oscar's body keeps convulsing around him, milking him.
For a long moment, neither of them moves. Lando's forehead rests against Oscar's. Their breath mingles, harsh in the silent room. Lando can feel Oscar's heart pounding against his own chest. His lips slightly touch Oscar's lips, barely a kiss, but he doesn't make it comes true. Friends with benefits aren't lovers, they both know that.
Finally, Lando pulls out. Oscar makes a small sound at the loss. Lando collapses onto the bed beside him. They lie there in the dark, not touching, not speaking. The only sound is their breathing, slowly returning to normal. After a few minutes, Oscar gets up and walks to the bathroom. Lando watches him go the way his thighs are wet, the way he moves slowly, the way his hand presses against his lower back.
Did I grab too hard to bruise his back?Lando tries to think but then give up.
The bathroom door closes. The shower starts. Lando lies there, staring at the ceiling, with his heart still pounding. He thinks about the door three rooms down, the one he'll have to go back to. The one with his name on it.
Lando Norris. Oscar's teammate. Oscar's rival.
The shower is still running when Lando gets up and pulls on his clothes. He doesn't wait,that's not a part of their game. At the door, he pauses, looking back at the mess, the evidence of what happened here tonight.Then he opens the door and walks back to his own room, carefully with no sounds being made.
Next morning, they'll sit across from each other at the team breakfast. They'll talk about the track, the setup, or the data from practice. Oscar will pass Lando the orange juice. Lando will thank him. Their legs quietly meet under the table, slightly bumping each other with their thigh.
Their eyes won't meet.
No one will notice a thing.