Chapter Text
Oscar wakes to his insides being pulled out.
Well.
Maybe that's a bit of an exaggerati-
“Hahh! Fuck!”
It thrusts back in, hitting the spot that makes him see stars as he cries out, vibrator still rumbling away as he turns around, tears in his eyes as he looks to-
“Lando?!”
—
1 Week Ago
Oscar Piastri is going to die. He's going to die from sexual frustration and his ghost will forever inhabit the mortal plane, haunting those that come by his damn fucking grave.
He can't come.
He hasn't been able to come for at least 3 weeks. His wrist is sore from wanking at least every 24 hours but it isn't enough.
Oscar smashes his head into his textbook and groans.
Alright so he has been coming. Just not in the way he likes, not in the way he needs to. Preferably in a way that involves sticking things up his ass, hitting that spot inside and making him come so hard he passes out.
(How he discovered it we leave for another day. All you need to know is that he accidentally watched a hentai, saw a catgirl moaning her brains out and promptly lost his mind.)
So yeah. Oscar's losing his mind a little bit.
It's exam season. So naturally, everyone around him is hunkered down and locked the fuck in. It's been countless pages of revision about the structural integrity of bridges and the piezoelectric effect and he's descending said bridge down to insanity.
Engineering majors have a reputation for going bald by the time they graduate. Oscar reckons he'll unfortunately be another addition to that statistic. He needs stress relief and he needs it bad. He's still groaning into his textbook when the door opens.
“Osc?”
Lando Norris peeks his head in. The smell of fried chicken is enough for Oscar to bolt out of his seat, scrambling to his door as Lando laughs, a bright hearty noise as the bag crinkles in his hand.
—
Oscar meets Lando Norris on a lovely bright summer's day. He sees him haul up his luggage up a flight of stairs before finally feeling bad enough to step in and help him out.
“You alright mate?”
A pair of seafoam eyes blink at him and Oscar is enamoured. He grabs the other luggage in hand and begins walking up alongside him. Lando gives him a sweaty grin, eyes crinkling up into crescents.
(Yep, Oscar's fucked.)
“Thanks! Elevator's down so had to lug em up however many flights of stairs.”
Oscar chuckles, he feels so awkward. “Yeah well, the elevator hasn't been working since last March.”
His companion huffs. Yet the twinkle in his eye suggests otherwise. “Good for fitness then yeah? I'm Lando.” He non-sequiturs, abruptly stopping on the stairs, sticking out a hand. Oscar almost crashes into him before reaching out.
“I'm Oscar.”
“Nice to meet you Os-car.”
—
They end up being roommates.
Lando is a pretty good roommate as far as roommates go. He's quiet, finishes his gaming sessions early into the night and cleans up after himself. Oscar couldn't ask for more.
Lando goes out every Friday. He's back midday Saturday, eyes red behind sunglasses as he tries to make it through his hangover before repeating it the following weekend.
(He also sometimes comes back shirtless and then Oscar really is in trouble.)
Lando had tried to invite Oscar out a few times, only for Oscar to shake his head. “Nah mate, not my thing,” he'd say, shrugging as he shot at a few more zombies on the screen.
Lando would huff at that, waving out the door. “I'll get you next time.”
And that was that.
Usually.
The moment the front door clicks shut, Oscar leaps from the couch, hurriedly shutting off the console and TV before making his way to the bathroom. He washes himself thoroughly before making his way back to his room, anticipation sitting in his gut.
Here he unearths the black bag from his drawers and pulls out his items of choice: lube and a large vibrator.
Then he gets to work.
—
Four fingers later with an egregious amount of lube, Oscar finally slides the vibrator in. His thighs are slick and shiny, towel laid across his bed because of his preferences for all things messy in the bedroom. He lets out a low groan as he pushes it in. Large, unrelenting and ominous. He inhales before releasing it out in shaking breaths.
Then he clicks it on.
Immediately, his body jerks.
“Hnghh!”
The vibrator buzzes right up onto his prostrate, turning his brain into mush. This is what he needs. The sharp pleasure that zings up his spine. The almost bordering on too much of the stretch of his asshole. The moans that spill from his mouth, edging into whines as he roughly pushes the vibrator up meanly against his prostate and makes his toes curl. He twists his head into the pillows, tears along his lashline as he pushes it in again and again, cruelly and meanly.
“Hahh! Fucking shit-”
He comes untouched like that. Spilling over himself as he groans. Tongue lolling out as his eyes roll back. He wants to feel debauched and he does. His hips twitch as he rolls them forward, riding out the first of many that night.
He continues thrusting the vibrator in, feels the itch behind his teeth and the almost roiling pleasure in his gut as he feels himself hurtle towards the edge again.
—
Several hours later, he wakes to his preset alarm and the vibrator still in his ass, still buzzing and making him feel warm and incredibly sleepy. He forces himself to roll out of bed, stumbling towards the bathroom to clean himself up, towel dragged along to be tossed in the wash as he does.
(One day, he just wants someone to wake up beside him like this. Messy and dirty and covered in his own come. So incredibly disgusting but they’ll love him anyway. Clean him up, wipe him down and make him come again, spurting all over tanned skin and seafoam eyes and dark lashes as he-)
Oscar vaguely feels guilty about it but as long as Lando doesn’t catch on, all’s good and fair right?
Right?
—
Exam season’s over. Oscar could literally cry.
He had finished the last few questions of his engineering exam in a fugue state, desperately racking his brain for its last few remaining brain cells to answer them, praying that he would get a pass and be done with this subject.
He floats out of the exam hall in a daze before absently mindedly making his way up the stairs and into his apartment. To his surprise, Lando's there.
His throat feels dry as he looks on. Lando's dressed in a black tight top, nipples peeking through the fabric. Tight well fitting jeans that show the truly indecent bulge that Oscar is trying very hard not to look at. Smudged eyes and ruffled hair.
(Oscar wants to get on his knees and worship him. He wants to do that and more. He wants breakfasts, lunch and dinners with this man. He wants their daily dinner walks. He wants their regular COD gaming sessions. He wants and wants and wants.)
Instead what comes out of his mouth is this: “Bit early for a party don't you think?”
He almost warbles at the end but he thinks he keeps it pretty deadpan. He desperately prays his dick isn't that obvious through his pants. He'd worn sweatpants to the exam after all.
Lando grins at him, hands securing the final touches of his outfit, smoothing out his shirt and clasping the chain around his neck. “Exam season’s finally over so everyone's out getting wasted to celebrate.” He cocks a hand on his hip. “You really sure you don't wanna come this time round?”
His eyes are so soft as they look at Oscar. Just as soft as when he drapes blankets over Oscar when he's fallen asleep at their dinner table while studying. As soft as when Oscar complains about the struggles of group assignments with STEM majors while Lando dutifully nods along, sharing his own struggles with his cohort in his graphic design course.
Oscar wants all of it. He's almost tempted to take him up on his offer but it's been weeks and he can't take it anymore. He shakes his head. “Sorry Lan, just too tired after that final exam. We can go to that bakery on Sunday? With the brownies?”
Lando just sighs. “Fair enough then, I suppose,” he concedes. If Oscar were delusional, he'd almost think that Lando looked put-out? At Oscar not going with him?
(Good thing Oscar's not delusional.)
So they say their goodbyes, Oscar staying on the couch, lifting a hand in farewell, waiting until Lando closes the door shut and he leaps up, heart beating frantically in his chest as he rushes towards his bedroom. He forgoes his regular routine because he needs it inside him right now. Everything else can wait, it's been weeks and he can't keep himself sane any longer.
—
“Fuck fuck fuck fu-”
He presses the vibrator in deep, sweat drips down over his eyes but he doesn't fucking care. He needs this, he's needed it for so long and it's so fucking good.
Oscar is face down, ass up, hand twisted awkwardly around as he forces the vibrator in and out, constantly pressing against his prostate as he curses aloud.
“Fucking! Shit! Hnnmggf-”
He lets himself wail as he comes again. His bedsheets are covered and he doesn't fucking care. It almost splashes up to his chin as he sobs and trembles and shakes his way through it. His thighs are spread obscenely, his inner thighs burn with the strain as he curls his toes under.
Oscar can't get enough.
And so he goes again.
And again.
Again.
His body is dripping with sweat. His eyes are blurry with tears, snot dripping down his chin.
His cock finally lets out last spurt of come, clear and almost water-like before he passes out, vibrator still buzzing in his ass.