JADE: so if i wanted to fly out of our session and travel to the green sun, i would have to make my way there through the furthest ring at the speed of light or less
Only if you can figure out where it is, which isn't trivial.
Rose was only able to locate the Green Sun because Dave had prepared a temporal map for her, allowing her to compensate for the Ring's time distortions.
To explore the Ring without getting lost, Jade would need a navigator who understands Time. We do have Davesprite, of course, but we have no idea if the Gods taught him to navigate the unnavigable.
I don't see why they would have, either. It wasn't his mission.
JOHN: it didn't really occur to me this was all so elaborate.
JOHN: like, if the green sun is at the center of a bunch of universes, like a huge solar system…
JOHN: doesn't that mean it was sort of important?
JOHN: maybe trying to blow it up wasn't such a great idea.
JADE: yes i think youre right
I don't even know anymore.
For most of Act 5, I was fully in agreement with this sentiment - but things have changed since Cascade. We're now aware that the Green Sun was created on Lord English's orders - so for all we know, it is better off destroyed. We need more data, damn it!
For four thousand pages, these kids have been blindly groping for answers with the wool pulled over their eyes - and unless they get really serious about wrestling the truth from English's grubby hands, they're going to keep getting played for fools until the curtain falls for good.
JADE: but to be fair, we were all the victims of a big prank!
JOHN: oh man, a prank??
JOHN: who pranked us?
JADE: some really creepy omniscient guy
Sure, let's call it a prank - but for god's sake, please make sure that next time, the Prankster's Gambit falls in our favor. I don't think you'll survive being suckers again.
norapinto reunion sex!!! my babies have returned to me !! @landoscarino thank you for the motivation, i owe u !! anyways, hope you guys enjoy xx
he looks different.
probably, for others, akin to the franco who'd paraded his way through the last races of 2024, confidence unperturbed and body more charisma than water.
but lando sees it. had spent too much time picking it apart, then gluing the pieces back together again, worshipping the slopes, the expanses, the peaks and troughs when it was all he wanted to do, even though he had a team to celebrate his championship with.
he sees how franco's lips are a tinge pinker, and not because of the attack of his own. he sees how crevices sharpen, whetted around his nose, cradling his eyes, grabbing his jaw. he sees how, nonetheless, 5 months without them being them, franco looks at him all the same.
"missed me?"
and lando would laugh, because despite their festivities reaching a standstill, they still see each other in passing.
a flash of blue speeding into alpine's hospitality. a flicker of papaya, then an inscrutable mesh of cameras, fans so eager, erasing what once glowed.
but, god, he's missed having him, all for himself, back to where he belongs. beneath, above, within. of course, he's missed it all.
lando grins, so soft, so gooey, as he drags franco past the threshold and into the room. he feels a shiver drag through the other's flesh, and lando takes credit for it, regardless of the gradient between the air outside and the chill that blows through the room.
his arms wind around franco's waist (there's thicker muscle there now. lando's mind goes hazy.), lips impatient and pushing upon another. and lando can feel his brain weep at how good it is, just like the very first time the fell into bed, and way better than the last time he saw franco's face unravel as he came.
their tongues meet, and it's warmth so familiar, his mind goes into autpilot. pushing, twirling, lapping at each other, like men starved at war. lando groans, swallowing the small mewls franco gives him, before sliding his hands down into his lover's joggers, over swells of ass that feel firmer, larger than before, and squeezes. franco moans like a pornstar.
"fuck, i've missed your mouth so much," lando sighs, eyes shut and kisses making a path down franco's throat. the argentinian is pliable, throws his head back without hesitance.
"and my ass?"
lando scoffs, but it's without an edge. he's humoured more than anything.
"goes without saying, no?" lando asks, hands slipping past the hem of franco's boxers and coming skin-to-skin with his old fixation. "you know how much i loved it. made sure you were always open for me."
the memory alone makes lando's cock twitch, blood pushing at the walls of his vessels. he feels like he'd burst the second he sheaths himself into franco, who shivers at his words, fingers curling into his mullet.
"sí— fuck yes," whimpers override his cadence, dick hardening and digging into lando's thigh, "need you to eat my ass again."
"as if i was ever planning not to."
then lando's shoving his mouth on franco's again, this time, reverence drowned by pure need and desperation. franco's pushing him until the backs of his knees collide with the edge of bed, and he falls spine first unto the mattress. legs bend at each side of his hips, bulges pressing into each other, heavy and throbbing; lando already feels spent, done out to hell and back, and they haven't even had one round yet.
their hands are frantic, tugging shirts off, yanking pants down, until not a garment adorns their bodies, and tan skin meshes with alabaster. franco's straddled across his thighs, grinding and swivelling his hips with his eyes shut. heat crawls through lando's flesh, flushing his skin puce and chipping his irises away.
"let- let me suck your dick, please lando i- por favor," franco pleads, and who was he to say no?
lando nods and loosens his grip on the other's hips, "turn around, baby," then he smirks, wicked, "i'll eat you out too."
and he's, honest to god, never seen franco move with such neck-snapping velocity, face full of pale roundness not even 2 seconds later, and a grip so tight on his cock, it feels like his skin would follow off with every tug. his toes curl, hands grabbing franco's ass as he kneads and wills his cock to last.
"it's bigger," lando says, squeezing and revelling in how there's more resistance. fuck, he feels like his brain oozes out of his ears when he imagined the sight he'd be blessed with when he fucks him from behind.
franco whines, wiggling his butt closer to lando's face, "solo para ti," then shoves his mouth down down down the other's cock until the tip jams the back of his throat and lando's moaning like it's been battered out of him.
fucking hell, the warmth that glides on his cock, the wetness that slathers and pools at the base fries every nerve ending in his body, quivering and moaning and whimpering at it all.
he almost loses himself, forgets the task he has at hand if not for franco shoving himself further backwards, lando's nose slotting perfectly in the groove between each asscheek. his response is instantaneous, pulling his butt open and dragging a fat, messy stripe over the clench of franco's rim. he feels the body above him seize like it's been tazed, hole clenching closed and as open as it could get, and lando wonders how he was able to last this long without it.
"you taste so fucking good," lando drawls, inebriated and tongue raining small jabs past the rim in lieu of opening him up, "even better than last time— shit."
the praise goes to franco's head, inciting him to double his efforts and keep lando deep in his throat. the pressure is electrifying, zaps coursing through his balls, down to his thighs. he's gonna die, it feels like such, and he doesn't think there's any better way to go.
two thumbs stretch franco open, and he leans back to assess his work; hole so red and so puffy, it's as if he's been taken and used for hours. perfect, beautiful, lando thinks, kissing the ridges so softly, it didn't belong in such needy fucking, before pushing his tongue as far in as it could go. franco wails.
"lando, fuck fuck fuck," he's full on sobbing, cock out of his mouth, resting on his cheek, "al igual que ese bebé– oh que bueno."
his own dick is neglected now, but lando couldn't care less. franco tasted so good, so sweet, he almost turned diabetic. the man on top of him sits upright, a sweaty hand splayed on his chest and another gripping his hair to push him deeper and harder.
it's suffocating, but lando loves it. can feel the way franco's legs shake, the way his hole grips him like a vice to keep his tongue inside, the way his fingers curl and tighten the closer he gets to falling off the edge.
"fuck, i'm so close, so so close– keep going please," franco cries and god, does he sound so fucked out it's insane. lando pulls him closer, tongue-fucking him as if his cock was doing the work, and he starts to feel franco bounce just slightly. he's about to come.
"fuckkk i'm gonna- shit-"
"let go baby," lando can barely recognise hearing himself, "you've been so good for me, such a good boy, huh?"
franco lurches forward as the force of his orgasm is one to be reckoned with, cum spurting and wet warmth splattering all over lando's chest. his hole pulses in lando's mouth, a tremble raking through his flesh before he slumps down, gasping.
"you are so good at that— fuck."
lando smirks, chin soaked, eyes glossy, "i know... you're still hard though."
a groan. "it happens everytime we fuck, eres adictivo."
snickering, lando slides his hands up the backs of franco's thighs, then gently squeezes. "ride me?"
another groan.
"but you're taking over as soon as i can't, yes?"
"of course," lando reassures, and throws his arms behind his head as he watches franco crawl his way down. he turns, flushed, fucked-out face coming into view, and lando smiles.
"hey gorgeous," he means it, really, but it comes out more teasing than he intends. franco flips him off, before settling in a straddle, wasting no time to grab his cock and sink right down to the hilt.
his brain short-circuits.
"god, franco," lando's eyes roll back, "you're so tight, fucking hell baby."
the heat is all-encompassing, sending licks of fire up his spine, walls so spongy and wet that he has to grip franco's hips tight to ground him.
the man above him sways as he takes his fill, cock-drunk, insides fluttering. lando almost thrusts up, but franco lifts himself then drops back down with all he has to give and lando spasms.
franco's just– using him, fucking himself on his cock like he's his toy, and lando let's him. he always will.
the fleshy smacks of skin upon skin are filthy, bouncing and ricocheting off the walls of his skull. their moans coalesce, harmonise like some debauched hymn, and it's not long before franco sobs and falls forward.
"i-i can't–"
lando shushes him, pressing kisses into his hair, "it's okay baby, you've been so good."
he rolls them over, settling upon franco, then turning him so his back welds with his chest, wasting no time to push right back in. it's deeper, hotter, closer, franco able to rest his head on lando's shoulder when he throws his head back and screams through clenched teeth.
his thrusts bloom sparks everywhere, slow and hard and just sloppy enough that it was intentional. franco could no longer think; slurs out a 'landoooo' as his hand half-heartedly scrambles for the other's, heart fluttering at the feeling of their fingers intertwining.
it's too intimate for mere fuck buddies. the soft kisses that litter his skin, the slow, worshipping fucking, the hand holding. there's a line being crossed, franco knows.
but as his eyes close, drool seeping from the corner of his mouth, barely being able to think, he casts it aside for a him that's not currently being railed like the world's ending.
"i'm gonna come baby," lando croaks, "come with me?"
franco nods, spreading his legs as far as they could, wrapping a hand around himself, tugging until the knot gets unbearable. his body locks up, hole squeezing and milking lando for all he's worth, hearing a choked 'fuck-' before wet warmth fills him completely. his cock dribbles into the sheets, no longer throbbing and completely empty, before lando collapses on him, sweat welding their skins together, weighted heat welcomed.
another kiss is branded into his skin, and he grins as he dozes off.
young star(let?) franco… established star lando… old hollywood sexual tension…….. i’m talking the borderline face breakingly aggressive kiss at the end of the movie as the music swells and everything. they’re on illustrated saturated billboards with the word technicolor in all caps at the top. they’re the last two left in dance studios rehearsing late at night. their chemistry is cracklingly magnetic; they do one movie together to test franco’s general audience appeal and end up contracted for ten more
