And now he has to look again. Urgently. Compulsively.
So he picks the phone back up from the sticky bartop, the screen already dark from inactivity, and unlocks it with fingers that suddenly feel weirdly clumsy against the display.
The picture is still there at the bottom of the chat. Slightly blurry. Clearly rushed. But devastatingly, undeniably, tangibly real.
It’s the McLaren jersey – his McLaren jersey, bright papaya orange and stamped with the number four across the chest – except the problem is that the body underneath it is objectively far too broad and muscular for a shirt that hangs comfortably loose on Lando himself.
The fabric stretches across Oscar’s shoulders obscenely well.
ZERO CYCLE, CHAPTER 2: Training/Bastion – fanart by elmocracy
The camera shifts again and for a moment Lando sees more surfboard than ocean. “Hold on for a second. I need to–” Then the entire image jolts violently.
For an instant, Lando is convinced Oscar has dropped his phone into the ocean as blue suddenly floods the screen, followed by the greenish-yellow of the surfboard, a flash of sky, and then–
Thighs.
Encased in a wetsuit, spread on either side of the board where Oscar is balancing himself, firmly anchored against the movement of the water.
Big thighs, too. Strong thighs. The sort that fit the broad shoulders and powerful build Lando already knows about.
For one brief, deeply unfortunate moment, his imagination supplies an image entirely unprompted: he imagines those thighs on either side of his own legs, pushing in on him, folding in around him.
The thought arrives so suddenly that it almost steals the air from his lungs. The only reason he doesn't immediately turn his facecam off again is because he knows he has to overplay it.
Pretend everything is normal.
“Wave got you?” he asks eventually, once he trusts his voice to emerge sounding remotely human.
Unfortunately, Oscar chooses that exact moment to turn the camera off. Lando follows suit almost immediately, finally allowing himself to bury his face in one of the sofa cushions while he attempts to recover what little remains of his dignity.
ZERO CYCLE, CHAPTER 3: Tournament/Fortress – fanart by elmocracy
Hello for the smut prompt I was thinking about maxiel. A scenario where maybe they are together or not together when they are both drivers but another driver is flirting with max let’s say at a party and Daniel sees and becomes jealous and does something about it in front of everyone, a bit of exhibition kink.
hi blop!! this didn't come out as explicit, but i hope you still like it!!
The club is packed, sweaty bodies pressing in on all sides, bumping into each other as they sway to the booming bass of the music.
Daniel is standing at the bar, a glass of whiskey and cola sweating condensation on his palm. Someone is trying to talk to him, but all of Daniel's attention is pointed at the other end of the bar, where Max is beaming drunkily at Fernando.
Max had left Daniel's side ten minutes ago to go piss, and Daniel even started to get worried about him being gone for that long, until he noticed the pair talking lively in the middle of the line to the bar.
Daniel is normally not a jealous type, he knows Max and Fernando are just friends. But the way Max keeps smiling st him, slowly swaying closer into Fernado's side with every new wave of his laughter, the smug smile on Fernando's face — it makes Daniel's blood boil, overheating in the stuffy air of the club.
Across the bar, Fernando cups Max's cheek and slaps it lightly, and suddenly Daniel can't keep looking at it anymore.
He leaves his glass at the bar and wades through the crowd, avoiding getting elbowed by everyone dancing, but when he finally reaches Max, Fernando is nowhere to be seen.
"Danyul!" Max beams at him happily, eyes squinting shut with the force of his smile.
Daniel smiles back at him and presses their sides together. "Where were you, Maxy, I thought you drowned in the toilet," he says, trying to keep his voice light.
"Oh, I of course didn't drown, I went to piss and then met Fernando here," Max gestures at the spot they're standing. "We were talking and then he went back to his booth. You just missed him."
Why was he looking at you like that? Daniel wants to ask, but instead he smiles again and tugs Max by the waist, "Dance with me, come on."
Max goes easily, his body loose on alcohol as Daniel pushes through the dancing bodies. The music swirls around them, booming and rising, moving the crowd with its rhythm. Max smiles at him, face flushed and sweaty, body flailing against Daniel's in a drunk, but carefree dance.
Daniel leans into the heat radiating off of Max's body and tucks his head in his neck. The music is too loud to hear Max gasp, but Daniel can feel the way he jolts under him.
"Relax, Maxy, just dance," he whispers hotly into his ear.
The skin of Max’s neck is salty with sweat as Daniel trails kisses down to his collarbone. The crowd around keeps moving, too distracted by dancing to pay attention to them.
Daniel grabs the collar of Max's shirt and tugs it down to suck a hickey into the thin sensitive skin there.
"Daniel," he hears Max say. Daniel shushes him and pushes a thigh between Max's legs, slotting their hips together.
Something hot and victorious sparks in his chest as Max starts humping against it right way. His dick is throbbing for attention too, but Daniel pays it no mind, focused on kissing the underside of Max's jaw.
It feels like they're alone in the whole club, just them in their little bubble on the dance floor, but viciously, Daniel hopes Fernando is able to see them, see who Max belongs to.
Max's white shirt is stretched tight against his chest, his nipples peeking through. Daniel brings his fingers to one of them and twists, feels the way Max's hips stutter against his.
"Come on, Maxy," he says into Max's neck, grabbing his hips to help him bring the rhythm back.
Soon, he feels Max freeze up against him, hears the high-pitched moan that gets swallowed by the music.
For a second, Daniel wishes he could stick his hand in Max's tight jeans, just to check if he really did just come in his pants in the middle of the crowd, but then Max gently pushes him off himself, hands on Daniel's chest.
"What was that for?" he yells through the music. Max's face is all pink, his hair is sticking up in all directions with sweat and there's a few hickeys already blooming on his neck.
Daniel shifts on his feet, hoping it will relieve the pressure off his straining dick. "Fernando was talking to you," he admits.
Max furrows his brows. "You made me come from humping your thigh in the middle of the dance floor, because Fernando talked with me?" he pauses, blue eyes sparking with something mischievous, "Daniel, are you jealous?"
"He was touching your face!" Daniel tries to argue, but Max is too busy laughing.
"Oh my god," Max says in disbelief. "You are very lucky I find it hot. Come on," he tugs Daniel towards the bathrooms, "I need to suck your dick about it."
Before they dissappear through the door, Daniel sees Fernado sitting in one of the booths. He catches Fernando's eye, and shoots him a smug look.
fanart of chapter one "overworld/draft" by elmocracy
zero cycle
landoscar, rated e, minecraft streamer!oscar x f1 driver!lando au, ongoing
Lando attaches the blushy, pouty photo and sends it, then locks his phone and drops it onto the carpet beside him, staring up at the ceiling.
There’s a pause, stretching suspiciously long.
A faint click echoes through the call. Mute. Then unmute again.
“Sorry,” OP says when he comes back, his voice rougher now. “Thought someone was at the door.”
Or: Lando loses an F1 championship and signs up for a charity Minecraft speedrunning tournament to cope with his existential crisis. Turns out his coach, faceless speedrunning champion OP81, might be a bit of a fanboy.
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
izzy806
stormborns
