5. LANDO AND OSCAR - Part 2

For Lando, 2023 was a strange and complicated year. Because of the relationship between Max and Charles, filled with beautiful and shameless love, he had developed an even greater need for other partners to distract himself, in order to remain friends with the two people he cared about most. 
The self-imposed ban on Oscar—the only other living being perfect for the role of "new anti-Charles"—didn't help him in the slightest, right during his worst period. Sure, there was always Carlos, but that had begun to become insufficient. It was nice fuck with him, but it wasn't enough since, in addition to Max and Charles being engaged, the ban on Oscar was stressing him out. 
Feeling nuclear disaster approaching, Lando had thrown himself into casual one-night stands, but he had never gone out with any of them; the only one he'd ever slept with was Carlos. 
That system had worked for the rest of the season; thanks to the 'hunt,' his mind had been distracted enough to avoid harming anyone. 
However, ignoring a problem didn't really solve it, and he understood this when he finally won his first Grand Prix, in Miami 2024. There Lando saw that the damned problem remained exactly as it had always been. As if it were eternal. 
The happiness of winning his first F1 race was absolute, despite the lucky moment that had made it possible, but that discordant note from sharing the podium with Max and Charles, shamelessly flirting next to him, was like a crack in his beautiful crystal castle. 
It was the beginning of something that would have shattered into a thousand pieces if he hadn't immediately taken action; the only thing he could think of was celebrating until he was exhausted, but this time not alone or with 'various friends' or in search of a one-night stand. That time he decided to drag Oscar, completely unhappy about going to clubs among hundreds of people—whom he probably hated simply because they were standing too close to him.
Lando had no idea why he'd insisted on having him, but when the Australian had tried to sneak out after the champagne shower with the entire team, he'd forced him to follow him to his party.  
A whim, just a simple, silly whim. Like a child digging in his heels for no reason. Immediately afterward he'd wondered if he'd gone crazy, considering how much he'd been drinking—also because of Max and Charles—but he'd been unable to resist his overpowering will at that moment. 
He needed it: to truly feel that victory, Lando needed something special, and since he couldn't have the first person in his personal ranking, he had opted for the second, but not with the real intention of jumping on him, not rationally and intentionally, at least—though a small part of him hoped so. Maybe he wasn't planning on doing anything special with him, but he hoped it would happen one way or another. He wanted the opportunity, and if Oscar hadn't come, that opportunity certainly wouldn't have happened. 
For that occasion, Lando had specifically asked for a place suitable for doing crazy things, open to all sexual types and that allowed him to let loose without the risk of scandal, because he had decided he wanted to lose himself without restraints. 
Lando really needed that night. One where he didn't have to control himself because he was allowed anything. 
He had opened the invitation to all his friends—both the private ones present, and those on the grid and the team—and many had come, but he didn't even know who in the end; he’d had a drink and a chat with someone, but they'd soon become passing shadows, almost forgotten. 
Everyone except Oscar who, after an initial pained complaint that he didn't like people and wanted to leave, Lando had quickly dismissed with a: - But you like me! - followed by a cocktail he'd foisted on him, which Oscar had immediately latched onto with desperate need, blushing furiously. 
After that, to get along with the crowd, but perhaps more with Lando who danced using anyone nearby as a lap dance pole, the dear Australian had continued drinking, probably what he usually did when he went out, the few times he did. 
Alcohol was the usual ally for loosening up those who always lived on the brakes, brakes that prevented shy and rigid people from having fun. Typically those kinds of people used that trick, which obviously worked, allowing them to completely transform themselves to the point of doing everything they wouldn't allow themselves to do when sober. And there were always many things they didn't allow themselves to do sober. In Oscar's case, one in particular: flirting with the boy he liked. 
That night he was no exception, and after a couple of drinks, quickly consumed to speed up the process of loosening, he soon found himself replacing Lando's friends, quickly becoming the volunteer in charge of the lap-dancing pole he would rub himself against while dancing. 
Lando didn't notice any of this, limiting himself to drinking and giving Oscar drinks, always keeping him strictly close in the area reserved for the DJ and the VIPs. Officially to prevent him from sneaking out, unofficially to take advantage of any opportunity that might arise. An opportunity that hadn't yet come, but he still hoped for. 
They weren't the only ones there and the stage wasn't so high and overly visible, but it allowed them to relax in a certain way. And there, with him above the crowd getting high and having fun without restraint, the rhythmic music blaring, the low lights flashing and dazzling, but above all with too much alcohol, Lando soon forgot his own rule not to do anything with him to avoid any trauma. 
He also forgot about it because of Oscar himself, who at a certain point started to stick at him every time he started jumping around to a song he particularly liked, almost as if he were inciting him to dance against him and use him however he wanted. 
Maybe that was exactly the case, but in the ever-increasing fog of his mind, Lando was too confused to really understand what was happening with his teammate. He only knew he enjoyed having Oscar on top of him like that and was happy that he was finally laughing and having fun despite the odds. 
Maybe that opportunity would eventually come.
He saw him relaxed, cheerful and splendid. He had never seen him so high, and it was engaging and intoxicating. It almost seemed like he was looking for something from him. Like he wanted something he knew he could get that night or never. 
Something he found when at a certain point the lights went out completely along with the music, at the climax of a particularly acclaimed song. The DJ team's spectacular effect was well received, because while everyone was screaming and singing the missing part gf the song, excited by the sudden blackout, Lando found himself with someone's lips on his and hands on his ass, squeezing and groping without restraint. Without even thinking, Lando immediately responded, opening his own and accepting that kiss in the dark. 
A kiss that wasn't really in the dark, because Lando, standing on his toes to better access his partner's mouth, knew perfectly well it was Oscar, and when he slipped his tongue into his and began playing with it passionately, the excitement immediately rose in a wave of heat. Exactly what he'd been looking for since the beginning of the night. 
It was an instant, but in that moment everything that had made him nervous and stressed up was swept away, making him feel nothing but good. Good, just like he wanted to feel. 
The lights going out actually only lasted as long as the chorus was shouted by the crowd on the dance floor. At the same time, the smoke was also released, and as soon as the lights returned to flashing low and blue, along with the music picking up again, the situation changed little as they remained entwined, with their groins swollen and hard rubbing against each other without restraint. Especially with their tongues still entwined in their joined mouths.
He was making out with Oscar!
Lando had to repeat it to himself a couple of times before realizing what it meant, and only with a delayed reaction, when someone slapped him on the back of the head as if to warn them that they were no longer safe, given that not only were the lights back on, but the smoke was also now clearing, did he suddenly pull away and in a flash realized what had happened. 
- Holy shit! - he exclaimed, widening his eyes and suddenly coming to his senses. 
"I promised I wouldn't do anything with him!" thought Lando, agitated and panicked. But then, seeing Oscar laugh, realized he was fucking drunk and that nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the end. Just a small, innocent kiss with a few touches. 
What was he complaining about? The opportunity had finally arrived, and he'd seized it brilliantly. But it had all gone far beyond his expectations, considering it was Oscar who had taken the initiative!
"I just hope this doesn't ruin anything between us. Oscar is strange and unpredictable." 
He couldn't think any more clear thoughts; he simply smiled back at his face lit up with a carefree happiness that was perhaps more dazing than any cocktail he'd had that night. 
Oscar so relaxed was a sight to behold, and he hoped to see him like this again. 

“And he was the one who kissed me, what could I do?” was Lando's first rational thought of the morning, as soon as he opened his eyes. 
Because obviously, every moment of his mouth and tongue on his was vivid. Like the desire to have a chance with Oscar.
Everything else was hazy, like he couldn't remember how he'd ended up in the room, which room it was, and especially with who. It had to be Carlos, the only one he slept with after sex, but since he remembered the kiss with Oscar well, Lando had a legitimate doubt, and jerking his head up toward the body he felt next to him, he felt suspended for a moment in pain and trauma.
Before focusing on the tanned, muscular back and the black hair scattered across the pillow, Lando found himself unsure what to hope for, with his usual recklessness; but as soon as Carlos' figure came into focus, he sighed and let his head drop again. 
In the end, it was better this way, he knew. Even if waking up with Oscar naked next to him would have marked a turning point in their relationship. A turn of events that he knew rationally he shouldn't have, but instinctively wanted, it was clear.  
His mind then drifted back to the engaging, loose version of Oscar once drunk. Was beautiful. Insanely beautiful. 
"It's actually normal. If they don't drink, how do people as uptight like him have fun? It's possible that, when sober, he'd never, ever make a move. But it's ideal. We'll both use the same excuse and pretend we don't remember anything. We'll pretend nothing had happened.”

Normally unreadable with everyone except Lando, when Oscar next maintained his imperturbable mask even with him, he was disturbed and annoyed, but realizing it was better this way, he decided not to dig further. 
Whether he didn't remember or pretended not to remember made no difference to him, since he was fine with it either way. They would just pretend nothing had happened. 

They did so until Oscar's first F1 victory, in Hungary, a few months later. 
Lando immediately realized he had to drag him out to celebrate: between the fact that Oscar hadn't really feel it because of the final team order, and the fact that he hated going to clubs, it wouldn't be easy.
Since Lando knew the reason for that order, and also knew how to trigger him and make him do whatever he wanted, he wasn't about to give up. 
In any case, Oscar had been leading the entire race, but what had caused him to lose position was a mix-up with the pit stops called by the pit wall, so the final team order had been corrected. 
Too bad that despite all that rational reasoning, Oscar still didn't feel like the victory was his. 
- Let’s celebrate as if we'd both won, then, okay? - Lando knew how to get his way, knew which card to play with dear Oscar, always stiff until he found him with a smile, wide imploring eyes, or a drink in hand. Both excellent ways to loosen him up and get what he wanted. If they were done together or in sequence, even better.  
Oscar hesitated and thoughtfully, as if pondering the weather, said: - But I hate going out, and when I do, I can only tolerate it by drinking. And if I drink, as you well know, I completely lose my mind and control. And I don't know if… 
When Oscar said it so casually, Lando almost had a heart attack, to the point that his saliva choked and he started coughing his soul up. 
Did that splendid night boil down to this? It had only been a kiss, but it was the icing on the cake of a beautiful night of constant flirting between them. It was a beautiful memory for him, the special thing that had allowed him to truly enjoy his first F1 victory. Something that wouldn't have happened without him. 
Moreover, it was also a memory he didn't think they'd ever have to talk about. 
Finally Oscar gave in, and while he was washing up and getting ready to go out, Lando's mind produced the fateful phrase. 
“But shouldn't I have avoided doing things with him because he's into me and I'm only looking for friends with benefits, meaning just sex? Why the hell am I doing all this?”
But no answer came because his hormones had by now started taking over again. 

As soon as he set foot in the chosen club, Lando immediately began getting Oscar drunk, and he did so without even considering why or what he was trying to achieve. He'd already asked himself that question, but he hadn't found an answer, so there was no point in continuing down that path. He might as well do what he wanted anyway, which was clear at that point: get Oscar drunk to see if he'd try with him again. 
Then the next day he'd insult himself, but now he wanted to go down without a safety net. Like a real idiot. 
But then again, that's exactly what he was. 
It didn't take long; Oscar wasn't the kind of person who could handle alcohol, and when Lando found him drunk against him, a mischievous, victorious smile accompanied the warm throbbing between his legs, a prelude to everything that was to come. 
"But if I take him somewhere more secluded, maybe I can take better advantage of him!"  
The two were with a few friends they'd dragged along—not many from Oscar, obviously, but a few more for Lando, who, as always, had involved those from their teams and the circuit he'd bonded with the most. 
They started out partying with everyone, but soon separated, finding themselves alone dancing. Just like last time, Oscar offered to be a lap dance pole for a Lando who was happily willing to use him that way. 
Rubbing themselves against him, blending in with the crowd high on alcohol and various drugs, driven by the loud music and the low, flashing lights, the excitement and heat soon rose, along with the one in the center of his groin. 
Lando was already hard and couldn't wait to continue the conversation with him; he didn't even waste time looking for other partners anymore. He wanted Oscar and that was it, and as soon as his hands landed on his ass, just like last time, Lando smiled happily and mischievously. 
He looked closely, realizing that he wasn't kissing him right there only by a miracle, and without thinking twice he grabbed one of the two hands who were checking out the firmness of his buttocks and dragged him into the bathroom hallway, hoping to find an empty one. 
Precisely because he was drunk, Lando had clear ideas. He didn't intend to just kiss him. 
As soon as he was inside, Lando made a move to gain the upper hand, but Oscar surprised him by grabbing his face and throwing first, crushing him against the locked door. In an instant, his tongue was in his mouth again and with it, memories came flooding back, making forget that between Miami and Budapest there had been two and a half months of nothingness. 
Letting Oscar hold him as he pleased, Lando took the opportunity to return the earlier treatment and, moving his hands down from his hips to his ass, he squeezed pulling him against himself. 
He was horny. 
Oscar was fucking horny. And by fucking horny, he meant he could feel the hardness of his cock perfectly. It was exactly as hard as his own. 
Moans escaped from their fused mouths as Oscar thrust with his hips as if he were already fucking him. 
“He’s dominant!” Lando thought in surprise as he suddenly became his lap dancing pole.  
After playing with their tongues for a long time, Oscar slid down his neck, sucking and nibbling under his ear; as he did so he unzipped his pants, and then Lando’s eyes widened in surprise. 
“This is completely different from the usual Osc. I like him!” he thought, simply smiling blissfully. 
- Are you sure? - he asked hoarsely, with no real intention of pushing him away or stopping him. As he asked, he tilted his head to the side, burying his hands in his smooth, soft hair, ready to accompany him on his descent to his own paradise. 
A descent that came after a firm response against the sensitive skin that was eating away at him, driving to death. 
- I want my victory gift. - Oscar whispered, making him shiver. 
“I love this version of him!” he thought excitedly. 
Now he could feel it, the victory, huh? He wanted to say it, he wanted to joke, his mind was ready to launch into jokes, but his mouth only let out a long moan because Oscar didn't wait for his consent. He crouched down and took the famous prize directly, fearlessly. 
Lando looked at him pleased and excited, standing with his back to the door; from there he could only see his blonde head between his hands, which were guiding it to his groin. He saw nothing else, because as soon as Oscar's tongue reached his cock, Lando rolled his eyes, falling the head back. 
The rest was just pure ecstasy. Ecstasy and growing cries of pleasure.  
Him, his mouth pumping on his growing, throbbing cock, and all the pleasure in the world concentrated there. 
“Fuck, if he were like this sober too, what a show!”
It was the only coherent thought he had before moaning that he was about to come. 
At that point Oscar pulled away and let him shoot onto the floor, moving and continuing with his hand; he raised his predatory, suggestive gaze to his. 
From that low position, he seemed even more arousing and when Lando surrendered to his orgasm, smeared on the door behind, he let his moans resonate loudly throughout the bathroom, thwarted only by the muffled music still coming from outside, thunderous and rhythmic.  
Had Charles' face been superimposed over his partner's again? He had no idea, Oscar had become a predatory feline at some point, like a snow leopard, something like that. So beautiful and unique. 
His senses exploded and confused him, leaving him in absolute bliss; as soon as it happened, Lando stopped thinking, limiting himself to enjoying and feeling. Feeling the thousand splendid sensations he was experiencing thanks to that splendid blowjob. 
Having barely recovered at some unspecified moment, with Oscar once again on his feet and kissing him, Lando was about to reverse positions, fully intent on returning the wonderful favor, when someone tried to break down the door from outside, effectively disturbing them. As soon as it happened, the two jumped into each other's arms, but as the fists continued to pound on the door, Oscar abruptly back to reality, breaking away and running with his hood up and his head down, terrified of being recognized despite the darkness of that corridor and the late hour where presumably one would only encounter people high on who knows what substance. 
Left alone and dazed with a man coming in to take a piss, the one who had probably almost kicked down the door, Lando cursed and, completely ignoring the stranger, ran out of the bathroom, hoping in vain to find Oscar who had perhaps regained his senses a little too badly.
"Well, he won't get away with it this time." 
Lando was sure of that. He didn't know how or why, but at that point there was a conversation to be had. A sane and lucid conversation, perhaps, but there was one. 

Notes: For Oscar, I was inspired by myself, in the sense that I, rigid and closed as well as shy with people I don't know well, only let myself go when I drink, and as soon as I do, I'm transformed from how I normally appear in a crowd (regretting everything I did while drunk). I didn't include the fact that I can handle alcohol well; I hoped Oscar would be luckier than me. It's pretty typical, however, for those who don't let themselves go easily; if they have to for whatever reason, they use methods. Alcohol is the most popular.
Now we'll have to see how Lando will handle it, because before he didn't want to do anything with him, thinking Oscar was taken and wanted a relationship he couldn't give him, but the fact that Oscar jumped on him two times changes everything. See you next time. Kisses,  Akane