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The first thing Oscar noticed was the sound.
It wasn't loud. It barely made enough noise for anyone else in the paddock to turn their head. It was just a faint metallic clink-clink that came from Lando's direction every time he rushed forward. It was muffled underneath his kit and layered beneath the noise of tyres and radios and mechanics yelling across the garage.
Oscar looked up from his phone. Because Oscar couldn't stop hearing it. It was starting to drive him a little insane.
Lando was halfway across the McLaren hospitality unit, sunglasses shoved into his curls that were a bit flatter in the humidity, still in his fireproofs tied around the waist. He was laughing at something one of the engineers said, smile wide head tipped back the way it always did when he wasn't hiding his amusement.
and there it was again.
a soft metallic clink.
Oscar’s eyes dropped automatically to his throat.
“Oh,” he said quietly to himself, sucking in a breath he didn't know he needed.
Lando had always worn jewellery. Chains sometimes, rings occasionally, every bracelet that got thrown at him.
But today there was more of it. Two silver necklaces instead of one, slightly different lengths so they shifted against each other whenever he walked, but didn’t get tangled. A couple new rings catching the overhead lights that Oscar didn't know when he had the time to put back on after tugging off his gloves.
It suited him embarrassingly well.
Worse, Lando clearly knew it. He was carrying a self assured air of confidence, body language dripping with it.
He moved differently, Oscar thought. There was a slight sway in his hips, a roll in his shoulders that was casual and relaxed, almost predatorily tempting. Every gesture felt calculated to draw Oscar’s gaze back to that glint of silver against his skin, to the hollow of his throat, to the way the chains settled against his collarbones when he breathed.
“You alright there?” Lando asked, appearing beside him with a smug grin that was too sharp and all too knowing.
Oscar blinked up to meet his eyes. “Hm?”
“You’ve been staring at me for like thirty seconds straight.”
“I have not.”
“You absolutely have.” Lando leaned closer, until Oscar could feel the heat of his body. The necklaces slid together with another soft click. “Like what you see?”
Oscar’s gaze betrayed him immediately, dropping back down to the two pieces of silver resting against Lando’s collarbones, then further down, following the line of the chains he could see beneath the tight fabric of his shirt.
Lando’s laugh was low, and private. All for him.
“Oh my god,” he said with a delighted gasp. “It’s the jewellery.”
“It’s distracting.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
Oscar looked away trying to save his dignity, but his pulse was hammering.
“You sound like a wind chime.”
Lando looked delighted by that description. “Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“Mhm.” Lando didn't believe him.
The problem, Oscar discovered over the course of the day, was that once he noticed the sound, he couldn’t stop hearing it.
Every time Lando jogged down the paddock stairs, chains bouncing together with a soft thump that he could help but tune in to. Every time he leaned over Oscar’s shoulder to point at data on a screen, his breath warm, the silver would clink right by Oscar’s ear, distracting him from anything Lando or the engineers said. Every time he laughed hard enough for the chains to dance against his chest.
Clink. Clink.
Oscar was going insane.
Free practise was a torment, in the predictable way it always was. In the garage, surrounded by chaos, shouting, strategy discussions, and tyre management. Lando’s presence was a constant, buzzing distraction. Oscar kept his eyes glued to the timing sheets, but his awareness was narrowed to a single point of the man beside him, smelling of cologne and sweat, and most infuriatingly, the sound of fucking necklaces every time he couldn't stand still.
“You’re staring again,” Lando murmured later, voice amused beneath the rumble of the engineers walking away, starting to adjust the car.
Oscar kept his eyes forward, gritting his teeth. “Your necklaces are making noise.”
“So?”
Oscar finally looked at him.
Lando’s grin widened immediately, because he clearly saw something in Oscar’s expression that he liked far too much. Because of course he noticed- Oscar's jaw tightened, the way his eyes darkened.
“Oh,” Lando said softly, stepping closer until their shoulders brushed.
“You’re really into this.”
Oscar hated that he could feel himself flushing, heat spreading up his neck, willing it not to go to his cheeks.
Lando leaned closer until Oscar could smell his cologne beneath the sharp scent of race fuel, until their breath mingled.
“What do you think about?” he asked quietly, a challenge.
Oscar should not have answered.
Instead, because Lando had always had a terrifying ability to pull honesty out of him, he admitted, voice rough;
“I keep wondering what would make them clink faster.”
Lando went completely still.
Then his eyes darkened in a way that made Oscar instantly regret speaking in public. He gave him a heavy, hungry look that dropped straight to Oscar’s gut.
“Well,” Lando said after a moment, voice lower now, almost a growl, “that’s going to ruin my concentration before Quali.”
Oscar looked away again, throat dry. “Probably best you focus, then.”
Lando laughed under his breath. “You’re evil.”
But the thing was, Lando did focus.
He drove brilliantly that afternoon, all sharp edges and impossible confidence, and Oscar found himself watching Lando on the pole celebration, distracted from his own p2 thinking stupidly, viciously, about silver chains against flushed skin, about how they’d shine with sweat, about how they’d clink with every ragged breath.
It got worse after.
Because while Oscar was showering and changing after media, Lando disappeared into his driver's room before he returned to Oscar’s with an unmistakable expression of someone trying very hard to act casually about a terrible idea.
“What did you do?” Oscar asked immediately, towelling his hair dry in the cramped bathroom.
“Nothing.”
Oscar looked him up and down, noticing how Lando was swinging on his feet with his hands suspiciously held behind his back.
“You bought something.”
Lando gasped, theatrically upset. “How dare you, it was meant to be a surprise!”
“You only look that pleased with yourself when you’ve spent money.”
Lando pulled a small black box from behind his back triumphantly.
Oscar stared at it confused.
“You bought more jewellery?”
“For you, actually.” Lando flipped the lid open. Inside sat a thin chain. It was a simple, polished silver that didn’t have any charms like Lando’s, but Oscar appreciated that.
“Matching-ish?”
Oscar looked at him for a long second, the air in the room thickening.
“That’s disgustingly sentimental.”
“I know.” Lando’s smile softened a little, but his pupils stayed wide. “Put it on?”
Oscar took the necklace carefully, fingers brushing Lando’s. The touch sparked between them, the atmosphere turning intimate.
Lando stepped closer with a shy smile, already reaching behind Oscar’s neck to unclasp it. His fingertips skimmed the back of his hair as he fastened the chain into place, warm and deliberate, causing a shiver that went right down his body, stopping at his crotch.
Then, because neither of them had ever been particularly good at restraint, Lando tugged lightly on the front of Oscar’s shirt to settle the necklace properly.
The movement made his own chains knock together.
Clink.
Oscar’s eyes snapped up immediately, locking onto Lando’s.
Lando stared right back at him.
The grin he gave him then was dangerous.
“Oh,” he said softly, crowding closer. “Still thinking about it?”
Oscar stepped forward until their chests brushed, until there was no space left between them.
All three necklaces tangled together with a rapid series of metallic clicks that mirrored their fastening heart beats.
clink-clink-clink-clink.
Lando inhaled sharply, his body tensing.
“Right,” he said faintly, patting Oscar’s chest, voice strained.
“We should probably get out of here before our pr teams have a reason to kill us”
Oscar’s hand slid around the back of his neck, thumb catching briefly on a cool silver clasp.
“Good idea.”
The drive back to the hotel was unbearable.
Silence in the car, but tension so thick they were still sweating, even though it was now dark and the heat of the day had dissipated. They sat in the back of the shared cab, leaving the middle seat between them, acting as a physical barrier of control. Lando had one hand resting on his own thigh, the other occasionally fiddling with the chains at his neck, now visible over his own t-shirt. Oscar wasn’t looking at him (if he did, he feared he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back) but the sound alone was driving him fucking mental.
By the time the door to Oscar’s hotel room shut behind them, Lando was already laughing breathlessly against his mouth, jewellery chiming frantically every time Oscar pushed him back against the wall to kiss him again, harder and deeper.
“There it is,” Oscar murmured between kisses, thoroughly gone on the sound now, one hand fisting in Lando’s curls, the other wrapped around the chains at his throat, pulling him impossibly closer.
“That’s what I was thinking about.”
Lando made a helpless noise as Oscar’s fingers pulled forcefully on the silver, tilting his head back, exposing his throat. “You’re obsessed,” he accused, breathless.
“Your fault.”
Lando kissed him harder for that, biting and sucking at his lip, hands gripping at Oscar’s broad shoulders, jumping up to wrap his legs around Oscar's waist, feeling their cocks rub together through the fabric. Their necklaces clattered wildly between them, a frantic music of want, until neither of them could think of anything anymore except for heat and hunger and want and the sound of heaving breathing and metal clinking together.
Oscar walked him backwards toward the bed, never breaking the kiss, hands roaming under Lando’s shirt, scraping over warm skin while pushing him down onto the mattress. Oscar followed immediately, straddling his hips.
Oscar stopped his attack to pull off his shirt, and when his vision was unobscured again he stopped. Lando was spread beneath him, silver gleaming in the low light, eyes black with want and lips plumped from being thoroughly kissed.
“Take it off,” Oscar said, voice rough.
Lando cocked his head, misunderstanding. “Why? You like the sound.”
Oscar shook his head, “Your shirt”
“I want to hear them against your skin. Nothing else.”
Lando shivered, but obeyed, pulling his shirt off slowly, letting the chains fall free against his bare chest. Oscar’s new necklace felt cool against his own throat, a constant reminder.
Oscar leaned down, kissing him again, then lower, mouth peppering kisses on his neck, then collarbone, teeth scraping over silver, then skin. He sucked a mark into his throat, right where the chain lay, and Lando groaned, high pitched and breathy hands coming up to claw into Oscar’s back.
“Osc–”
Oscar didn’t let him speak. He kissed, licked, bit, and sucked down his chest, tracing the path of the longest chain with his tongue, holding into his mouth as he went down until he reached his stomach, and it fell out.
Lando moaned as it landed back onto his heaving chest slick with saliva, the sensation cold from the air and spit, clinking as it rustled the other chains on him. Oscar was now kneeling between Lando’s legs, looking up at him, gripping his thighs.
Lando was breathing came hard, chest rapidly rising and falling, chains clinking softly with it all, looking down at Oscar with more than just want.
Oscar undid his jeans while maintaining eye contact. He pulled them off, along with his boxers. Lando kicked them away, naked now except for the jewellery glowing against his skin. His cock was glistening with precum that shined like silver on his chest, and Oscar wanted to merge them. He wanted to paint Lando with cum till all of him shined.
Oscar stripped just as fast, desperate and too far gone, not looking or caring where he threw their clothes. His own necklace the only thing left on him.
He didn’t wait. He didn’t tease, he really wasn’t going to last that long. He grabbed Lando’s thighs hard and pushed them apart, spat into his hand, and slicked both of their cocks with it, mixing with copious amounts of precum.
Lando cried out, eyes clamping shut and his back arching as his hands scrambled for something to hold onto- to ground him. Oscar hissed at both the pressure on his dick, and the way nails scratched into his back.
Oscar took his hand away, causing Lando’s hips to jerk subconsciously, whining and shaking for the friction to come back. Oscar was relieved. He wouldn’t be the only one of them to not last.
Oscar shushed him lovingly, accent thicker as his voice deepened with need when he spoke.
“Shh Lan it’s okay baby”
Lando was withering under him, far gone and too desperate to make any sound besides high pitched moans and whimpers. Fuck. Oscar was going to die.
Oscar couldn’t force himself to think hard enough to look for lube. Not when Lando was shifting his hips up, flipping their positions clumsily. He was crawling over and on top of Oscar like a tree, his dick throbbing as it dragged across the Australian’s thick thighs. They both moaned at the friction.
Oscar’s shaking hands scrambled to help Lando stay on top of him, biting his lip and failing to hide the moan that left his chest when Lando's slick ass was rubbing against his bare crotch. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Would they be okay without lube? He knew he wasn’t massive, and the mix of spit and sweat and precum-
Oscar cried out as Lando decided for them– holy fuck- bloody fucking hell– Oscar’s vision went white and wet with tears as Lando forced himself onto his cock. There was so much wet hot pressure he had to bite his cheek to not scream out and finish on the spot.
Lando didn’t hold back, or maybe Oscar didn’t muffle his moans as well as he thought- he was too far gone to care, but loud cries of pleasure echoed across the walls as Lan bottomed out too suddenly. The stretch in him felt phenomenal and he was sure he could finish from Oscar inside him alone.
Oscar thought his ears were ringing, but as they paused for a moment to settle into each other, he realised it was their necklaces rubbing together, and Oscar fucking lost it. The silver stayed idle as Lando caught his breath, holding Oscar’s shoulders with a bruising grip that matched the bruising grip Oscar had on his own waist.
Panting pathetically, Oscar pleadingly choked out permission to move. Lando wasn’t sure exactly what he was saying, something like “Please Lan, I need-, Can I-” all broken up with gasps and moans he tried and failed to swallow down, eyes wide and teary and begging.
Lando could feel his own eyes water from the overwhelming pleasure of it all. He didn’t know how to say anything besides Oscar’s name, and all he managed while looking at him was the one syllable of “Osc” before they moved in sync to crash their lips together, meeting halfway while Lando shifted up and Oscar roughly pushed back inside with a hard deep thrust up that buried him to the root.
Lando cried out drooling, too unfocused and dazed to kiss, his head falling into his neck as the chains jangling loudly. Oscar groaned, the sound vibrating through them both, and started moving, setting a punishing pace immediately, already close and chasing release.
There was no gentle build. Just pure, driving need for each other. Oscar fucked him hard and deep, each thrust rocking Lando’s body, making the silver dance and chime against their merged sweating skin.
The sound was everywhere, in Oscar’s ears, in his bones, mingling with Lando’s and his own choked moans and with the slap of skin on skin.
Lando gripped Oscar’s shoulders, nails digging in and scratching down, leaving red streaks down his pale back.
Lando cried “Fuck– Osc– I can’t–” His prostate was being jackhammered and Lando’s words were as shaky as his bones.
Oscar leaned down in understanding, catching one of the chains in his teeth, pulling gently as he drove into him. Lando whimpered, tears flowing down his cheeks, hips bucking. Oscar could feel his own necklace bouncing against his chest, a second percussion to their rhythm.
He reached down, wrapped a hand around Lando’s cock, stroked him in time with his thrusts, rough, urgent and frantic as Oscar could also feel himself about to burst. Lando sobbed, body tightening, chains shaking wildly.
“Mm gonna– Osc–”
“Come,” Oscar growled, biting at his throat again, catching the chain half in his mouth as he did so.
“Let me hear it.”
Lando did–with a sharp cry, body convulsing, chains chiming a final, chaotic chorus as he spilled over Oscar’s hand and chest. Oscar watched him, watched the silver glint on his heaving chest, and followed immediately, eyes blurring, and erupting into him while his own climax tore through his body, hot and deep.
He collapsed on top of him, both of them sweating, breathing ragged and violent. The necklaces were tangled, pressed between their skin, still warm.
Lando laughed weakly, all breathless and full.
“You really are obsessed.”
Oscar nuzzled into his throat, kissed the silver there, as he gently let himself slip out, moving Lando to face him on his side as he watched the necklace rise and fall with the breaths Lando was still trying to catch up on.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I am.”
Lando hummed, worn out and satisfied, curling into the bigger man's side. He could deal with the stickiness in the morning.
Rubbing his eyes with a yawn he added, “y’know, the chain does look good on you. Handsome”
Oscar huffed a laugh, though it came out staggered as he also yawned in the middle of it.
“Yeah?” he mumbled into Lando’s cooling curls, using one of the many hotel pillow cases to quickly wipe his and Lando’s chests; they'd deal with it properly in the morning.
He hummed, content and too tired to keep talking. “Mhm, I’d know…” he trailed off for a second, seemingly trying remember how to form a proper sentence
“better style than you ‘n all”
Oscar chuckled, pulling the blanket half over them and snaking an arm over Lando’s waist.
“Maybe you should just style me?”
Lando didn’t respond again, a quiet noncommittal hum rumbled from his chest before his breathing evened out, it had been a long weekend, even without their extra physical exertion.
Oscar wiped his own eyes with his free hand before resting it on his own chest, a finger on the cooling metal necklace he got gifted. It was a nice, subtle addition, unlike Lando’s visible and extensive choices. If he wanted to start weaning a necklace that was barely noticeable, what was the paddock really going to say about it?