igfirecrotch @igfirecrotch - Tumblr Blog

If you seen any of my rpf libraries, I'm a big fan of anything you come up with. But I saw your prompt post and would love to submit one for your consideration! There isn't too much already existing on AO3 for this prompt in regards to Landoscar RPF. I would love love love to see prompt 18 get an attempt, particularly if Loscar could be involved, but whatever your heart desires. As always, thanks for your writing and contributions to the fandom!

prompts

As requested, I tried to go for something a bit 'new' in their dynamic. I think I'm quite happy with how it turned out (even tho I'm always a sucker for Landoscar endgame obviously)

there's a bit of rancid vibe there I won't lie

Hope you'll enjoy it :)

loscar & landoscar - infidelity / cheating - 1,8k words

Oscar feels Lando press his knee against his under the table — and even though all their mutual friends are here as well, even though Logan is sitting right in front of them, smiling at Oscar like he always does, Oscar presses back.

He’s not usually into these games. He already feels guilty enough cheating on his long-term boyfriend on a regular basis.

If asked, he would say he doesn’t even know when it started (it’s a lie; it was three years ago when he and Lando ended up locked in the college library) or how it started (also a lie; Oscar distinctly remembers Lando leaning in to kiss him without hesitation).

He doesn’t know why he still does it.

That’s only partly a lie; he knows he keeps coming back because there is something with Lando he never found with anybody else; the kind of chemistry that makes him hard in his jeans just thinking about it.

But that’s about it.

He knows the guilt should make him stop; the fact that he has a sweet boyfriend waiting for him at home, the fact that he doesn’t even consider leaving Logan because they’re such a good match. But so far, it hasn’t.

It still gnaws at him sometimes. On some nights when Logan is pressed against his side, his face hidden in Oscar’s neck, Oscar can feel how huge this has become.

Just how fucked he’d be if any of it leaked out. His relationship, his life, all their friendships so deeply entangled with one another.

But when he feels Lando’s knuckles run across the line of his thigh under the table, hidden from everyone else, Oscar forgets about all the consequences, his body craving Lando’s touch more each time.

Nobody at the table pays attention. It’s like every other Friday night when they decide to go out to their favorite restaurant together before heading to a crowded pub.

Oscar quickly scans Logan’s face from the corner of his eye; Logan is just busy talking with Max and Charles beside him.

Lando doesn’t even look at Oscar. He has his back almost turned to him, pretending to be busy listening to whatever the fuck George is telling them.

But his hand remains heavy on Oscar’s thigh. Oscar forces himself to maintain a completely neutral expression, nodding along as he hears Logan mention something about planning their upcoming summer vacation.

Then Lando curves his fingers inward. The sharp tips of his fingernails dig right between Oscar's parted legs, dangerously close to where his balls press against the denim seam. Oscar bites his lower lip fiercely to keep from letting out the slightest sound, freezing completely in his seat.

Lando really is pushing their luck tonight.

He can be like that sometimes, wanting to wind Oscar up, teasing him until he snaps and yells.

And Oscar does snap sometimes. He'll lash out, telling Lando that it’s over, that they can’t keep doing this because Lando is being such a disrespectful dick (as if Oscar isn't the one actually cheating on his boyfriend).

It often ends with the best sex of Oscar’s life.

So he keeps coming back.

Every fucking time.

He tries to breathe through it as Lando’s hand fully cups him, squeezing his growing bulge until his head starts to feel cottony.

He can’t even blame the haze on alcohol; he’s only had sodas all night.

“You alright, darling?” Logan asks at some point, leaning across the table with a concerned look on his face.

Lando squeezes tighter, and Oscar sees stars.

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes, forcing a small smile. “Just tired from the week.”

Lando curls his fingers right around his clothed shaft, as if he’s actually about to jerk him off through the heavy fabric of his jeans.

“You sure?” Logan asks. This time, Oscar doesn’t trust his own voice, so he just nods.

Logan smiles softly before reaching across the table to hold his hand, and Oscar wants to fucking scream.

Oscar jerks his leg away from Lando’s touch, making the glasses jolt on the table, and suddenly everyone looks his way. He smiles sheepishly.

“Sorry guys,” he says as he stands up. This time he meets Lando’s eyes; assessing, knowing, glinting with something that makes Oscar’s guts go liquid. “Just, uh. Bathroom.”

He hopes his semi stays well hidden as he rounds the table; pressing a quick kiss on Logan’s head as he walks behind him.

When he looks up, Lando’s still watching him.

He doesn’t try to read too much into it and heads for the bathroom, feeling his cheeks burn hot.

Thankfully, the men’s bathroom is empty, and he can try to will his boner away, breathing deeply through his nose with the blood pounding in his skull.

He really needs to stop this shit. He’s been playing with fire for so long, it’s going to bite him back one way or another.

It should be easy, really.

It’s not like he’s considering breaking up with Logan. He just has to end things with Lando, be a decent human being for once, and stop fucking around like he’s eighteen and careless all over again.

And it’s not like Lando’s asking for anything from him. He doesn’t want more from Oscar; he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with him.

It’s just sex.

Amazing and mind-blowing sex.

They can still be friends after this. They’ve been friends before.

“Fuck me,” he sighs, finally unzipping his jeans as he steps up to one of the urinals.

A few seconds later, the bathroom door swings open and Oscar knows it’s him instantly.

Maybe it’s the faint trail of his cologne, the familiar rhythm of his footsteps, or something deeper, something instinctual that makes Oscar’s entire body vibrate in response.

“Hey,” Lando says, casually looking over at Oscar as he unzips his own jeans.

Oscar lets out a huffed, disbelieving laugh and looks straight ahead.

There is absolutely no way he is making small talk while pissing.

But he still feels Lando’s eyes on him. When Oscar finally cracks and turns his head, Lando is staring directly at his dick, unbothered, watching him piss.

There’s a hot wave of shame in being watched while doing something so fucking intimate, yet Oscar can’t ignore the arousal curling in his gut at the wicked look in Lando’s eyes.

“Mate,” Oscar muttered, jabbing an elbow into Lando’s side. “Could you not?”

Lando just chuckles, shaking his shaft for the last drop while Oscar hastily tucks himself back into his underwear.

“Yeah, sorry,” Lando replies, zipping up.

He doesn’t sound sorry at all.

Oscar turns around so he can wash his hands, and soon enough, Lando is right beside him again, mirroring his moves; taking some soap, scrubbing between his fingers, rinsing everything.

He should tell Lando to stop – ask him to leave him alone for the rest of the night so he can focus on something other than those long fingers near his dick.

He should tell Lando that everything they’ve been doing has to stop.

“Lando, look, maybe we–” he starts, but Lando clearly has other plans in mind because he grabs Oscar by his shirt, pulling him flush against him, his mouth already on his.

It’s not the first time they’ve kissed somewhere so public and exposed, but the risk still sends a visceral thrill right down his spine and straight to his dick.

He doesn’t fight it; it’s not like he even wants to when Lando licks into his mouth, gripping Oscar’s jaw with his hand, forcing him to stay still.

Lando presses Oscar back against the sink, parting his legs with one of his own thighs.

Oscar can’t think about the several stalls in the back, which might be occupied. He can’t think about the door that could open any second; he can’t think about the fact that the door might open to reveal his boyfriend or one of their friends.

So he grabs Lando by the hips, groping his ass with both hands, and he feels Lando smile into the kiss, sucking on his tongue greedily, grinding against him.

But when he hears a toilet flush behind Lando, he has the common sense to shove Lando back, a hand flat against his chest, both of them breathing heavily as their eyes lock.

Lando’s pupils are completely blown, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips.

“What were you saying?” Lando breathes, tilting his head.

Oscar swallows hard, his gaze helplessly dropping back to Lando’s mouth. His lips are red, swollen, slick with their spit – looking exactly how they do when they're wrapped tightly around Oscar’s dick.

He should tell him.

He should tell him now.

“Nothing important,” he says instead.

Lando flashes him a smile and looks at something in the mirror – someone is coming closer, but it’s no one they know. The stranger just looks at them with a suspicious spark in his eyes, which Lando doesn’t seem to care about.

He looks back at Oscar and leans in to smack a kiss on his lips, his hand still gripping his jaw, his touch iron-like.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says, finally pulling away.

Oscar feels fucking sick; the pasta he had sitting heavy and low in his stomach, like a clenched fist around his guts.

But he forgets about it when Lando brushes his knuckles against his arm as he walks past, opening the door for him, smiling at him like Oscar’s something worth doing the worst things for.

When they reach their table again, Lando wears an apologetic smile and a concerned face, a hand strategically placed on Oscar’s shoulder.

“I think this one might be sick,” Lando says, giving Oscar’s shoulder a friendly pat. “I’ll drive him home.”

“Oh honey, are you sure?” Logan asks immediately,, half-rising from his chair as he searches Oscar's face. “Do you want me to come back with you?”

Oscar should say it – yes, please, come home with me.

Come home with me so Lando doesn’t drive me home.

Come home with me so I don’t end up fucking someone else in our bed.

He should.

“No, that’s alright,” Oscar says instead. He forces a warm and convincing smile for Logan, tenderly brushing his knuckles against his boyfriend's cheek. “Stay. Enjoy the night.”

“I’ll meet you all at the pub later,” Lando tells the others, reaching for his car keys and handing Oscar his jacket.

“Thanks, Lando,” Logan says, placing a grateful hand on their friend’s forearm. “You’re the best.”

Lando looks up at Oscar. For a split second, time seems to stretch into an eternity. Years of secrets, every stolen kiss, every single time they’ve fucked over the past months flash behind Lando’s eyes. Then, just as quickly, the look vanishes as Lando glances back down at Logan.

“Of course, mate,” Lando replies, his smile genuine. “Anything for Osc, right?”

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