Oscar sighs, head dropping onto the cool surface of the kitchen counter next to his laptop. It’s not even noon and he’s already ready to curl back into bed.
He’s been in and out of zoom lobbies since about 9 AM; a team call that could have been an email, an engineering debrief that summarised to something a long the lines of, “the car looks decent, lets go chase some podiums next week,” and lastly, a 20 minute lecture from Sophie in PR about being nice to his teammate.
That last one was particularly annoying. What did they expect? Oscar to be well adjusted in three months? For him to go from years of racing alongside his husband — and his husband only — to suddenly having a hot-shot 20 something rookie as his main rival? Honestly, he’d laugh it wasn’t the third time he’s had this exact meeting.
He groans, squeezing his eyes shut and counting back from ten with a steady breath at each number. Right as he reaches one, he feels the familiar weight of Lando’s fingers along his spine; starting roughly a third of the way down, trailing up between his shoulders, and settling against the sliver of exposed skin at the base of his neck.
Oscar hums in content, the tension in his shoulders easing beneath the grounding touch of Lando’s palm. After a beat, he pushes off the counter, turning in his chair so that he’s facing Lando; looking up at him with tired eyes that go beyond lack of sleep.
“You look like shit,” Lando teases, soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Oscar laughs despite himself, dropping his head against Lando’s chest as he does, inhaling the familiar lavender he’s grown fond of over the years. Lando laughs as well, arms moving to circle Oscar’s shoulders, drawing him even further in.
They stay like that for several minutes, basking in the late morning sun and each other’s company. The only sounds coming from the faint whirl of their fridge and the light spring breeze wafting through the half open balcony door.
“Why’d you have to retire,” Oscar mumbles, face pressed to the divot of Lando’s shoulder. “Whole thing’s shit without you. They’re making me do teammate bonding now. Fucking trust exercises and all sorts of bullshit. Ridiculous honestly.”
Lando snorts, biting his lip to stiffle the laugh threatening to spill over, face pressing further in Oscar’s neck as he does.
“Don’t laugh,” Oscar protests, lightly shoving Lando’s waist. “It’s not funny.”
“I mean, it’s a little funny,” Lando grins, pulling back to look Oscar in the eye. Oscar frowns, feigning offence before a soft huff passes his lips, because, yes, it is a little funny. Frustrating and benign, sure, but yes, he does see the humour in it after years of praise for the well-maintained pairing him and Lando had for over a decade.
“Just miss having you there,” Oscar mumbles, cheeks blushing over a deeper shade of red than usual. It’s honest in a way they’ve both been tentative about for the last year after Lando first told Oscar he wouldn’t be renewing his contract.
It had been difficult; Oscar wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the sport he’s been in love with practically his whole life nor the only teammate he’s had in it thus far. But this wasn’t about him; it was about Lando, and fuck if he was going to be anything less than supportive of whatever Lando wanted to do next.
“Miss you too,” Lando whispers, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against Oscar’s lips, eyes slipping shut as he rests there for a minute. “Come get breakfast with me?” He asks after a second.
“Had breakfast about five hours ago,” Oscar teases, already blindly reaching behind him to shut the lid of his laptop.
“Oh shut up,” Lando groans, lightly smacking his shoulder, their hands intertwining as walk down the small hallway to their front door.
dee I'm so deeply infected by professor hollander, I foresee this being a problem for me...how do you see their first hook up going? do they meet up at Shane's very nice grownup house or Ilya's tiny student apartment? do they get freaky right away or start slow? so many options...
do you want that problem to go away? 🥺😘
aahhh yes. i think they definitely meet up in shane's nice grown up house. the idea of sneaking into a dorm room makes what he's going to do way too real and he doesn't need the reminder that this is a student making him this fucking crazy. ilya likes reminding him of it enough anyway 😈
and ilya doesn't give him much of a choice. it's an early morning a couple of weeks later when he comes bounding back into shane's office. "i know you want it, hollander. so let me give it. tell me where you live or i will find out another way. is simple."
despite it being a bitterly cold day in january, shane finds himself burning up. ilya sits on his desk, arms crossed over his chest and smirking down at him. he knew ilya wasn't going to stop, and if he could allow himself to be honest... he didn't want him to either. his private shower time wasn't as fulfilling as it once had been. he needed more; needed real, hot flesh against his own. he glanced up at ilya through his lashes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
he reached for a pad of paper and a pen so that he could scribble down his address. he tried to ignore the warmth pooling in his belly at the way ilya hummed his approval above him.
"already so good for me, mr. hollander. i come after practice, yes? eight o'clock?"
shane nods as he blows out a shuddering breath. ilya folds the paper before pulling back the case on his phone and tucking it there. he snaps it back into place before shooting shane a wink. "see you soon, professor."
and it starts very much as we know it, with ilya circling shane like a predator herding in his prey. the first kiss is mind blowing. shane feels absolutely devoured and it's so heady. he feels drunk just from the kissing. after a couple of minutes ilya tells shane that they should get confortable, so he hesitantly slots their fingers together and leads him to the bedroom.
shane is panting like a dog by the time ilya gets him naked and splayed on the bed. he's never felt desire like this before. the underlying shame over who is causing him to feel this way making him burn even hotter. but ilya is actually being quite sweet and attentive. it's when he eventually slips a hand between them and presses a lubed finger against shane's hole that things turn more filthy.
"fuck. so tight, baby. like this pretty hole hasn't been fucked in years."
shane's breath stutters, his body flushes, and he worries his bottom lip. ilya notices this of course, and he raises his brow. "how long has it been, professor hollander? a year? two? my poor little kotenok."
shane wants to fucking die. he should just lie and say yes, he was right. only a year or two. but as ilya pressed a long, thick finger inside of him, he breathed, "more like 23."
ilya stills, his eyes wide and mouth agape. "what?? how is that possi-"
"not since i was in college, no. fuck, i shouldn't have told you that. i just... i don't know it wasn't great that time and i get so busy with work and.. fuck. this is so not sexy."
despite his absolute shock over this revelation- shane is fucking delicious and ilya can't compute how nobody has snatched him up in all this time- that last line makes him grin. he leans in and kisses shane again, finding his prostate at the same time. shane moans and arches his back as ilya pulls away.
"ah, no. is very sexy. like you have waited for me all this time. my good boy." he rubs the tip of his finger upwards again as shane whines and throws an arm over his face.
"want to know a secret?"
shane cracks open an eye and briefly nods. ilya looks like the cheshire cat.
"i was not even born yet the last time someone had their way with you."
he smirks as shane whimpers and digs his nails into ilya's shoulders underneath him. he presses a kiss to his temple.
"and i am going to fucking destroy you, baby. wreck you so good that you will go another 23 years without a dick unless it is mine."
they always horny while the other isn't in the mood and it pisses barty off and makes sirius angry that it pisses barty off lmaooo he is like so u just wanna fuck me. and barty is like... fuck yeah i wanna fuck u tf u mean?? JDHJWJXJSJDJD
they fucking argue so much bcuz they're kinda alike and so diff in some sense and sirius is like comparing himself to regulus and he gets angry at barty bcuz he lets him compare and barty is like... i did not say anything abt ur brother!! and sirius is like BUT I KNOW U ARE THINKING IT!! HDHHSJDHD they're hilarious and mind u this convo happens when barty is in deep balls inside of sirius and they're doing it missionary but every time they're face to face they end up arguing abt smth ridiculous and barty ends up turning sirius over and fuck him so hard that sirius has no time to whine and argue abt anything and he just fucking moans like a whore and barty gets rile up bcuz a moment ago u are whining and bitching but look at u now. stretching around my cock and pushing urself to me. lemme watch that pretty hole of urs swallow my cock. take it like a good boy. oh u don't wanna be a good boy? fine u are still a whore that loves to get fucked as if u are not gagging for it.
they end up fucking hours and hours and barty gets so mean to him that sirius is like. holy fucking shit. no one ever treated me this way and i can't stop cumming. turns out he needed to be treated like this get fucked like a ragdoll bcuz barty is the only person who slaps him w hard facts and doesn't feel like he has to be nice to sirius just bcuz they're fucking. i mean imo barty has this crush on sirius forever but sirius made it so difficult to barty that being nice to him now barty is angry and horny and he wants to own sirius but he knows sirius isn't emotionally available and god knows he isn't either but like. sometimes he looks at sirius and he is in awe and can't believe he gets to touch him but it's always pushing and pulling w them and it's never easy. the only thing is easy abt them is when they fuck bcuz they click so good and the tension is fucking there and barty knows which buttons to push and he isn't afraid to give what sirius actually wants and sirius is like. this man does NOT give a fuck abt me but the way he fuck me so good i might let him rail me to the end of time even if it means fighting w each other for the rest of their intercourse lmfaooo
i think the only time they let themselves be nice to each other even if it means just a little bit is when they're both sleepy and they can't keep themselves from touching each other and they don't wanna bicker and fight they just want to... hold each other and sleep and never question it
hi del!!! I wrote u a wolfstar drabble bc I am sleepy and therefore they shall be too 🙂↕️
Remus awoke to the feeling of the impossibly heavy weight of four tiny paws pressing into his chest. He grumbled softly, and the noise was returned by a small chirp. Reluctantly, he cracked one eye open to find Nova standing over him, green eyes blinking slowly down at him.
“M’rnin’” he mumbled. Nova chirruped again. “Ah, should y’r dad get you some food?”
“Noooo,” came a muffled voice from beside him. He felt Sirius tighten the arm slung around his waist and burrow his face more tightly in the crook of his neck. “Your turn.”
“Nuh uh,” Remus huffed. “I did yesterday.”
Nova meowed again, a little louder this time.
“Abominable creature,” Sirius muttered. Remus turned to look at him, and Sirius peeked up at him from behind a curtain of tangled curls. “We should’ve gotten a turtle.”
There was another indignant meow before Nova, realizing that her preferred person was now awake, abandoned Remus’ chest to crawl on top of Sirius and nuzzle into his hair.
“Can’t cuddle a turtle, can you?” Remus mumbled as Sirius rolled onto his back to greet the cat, shivering at the loss of body heat.
“S’pose you could,” Sirius replied with a sleepy blink. He held up a stray curl and waved it at Nova, who batted eagerly at it. “Fewer claws, at least.”
“‘M pretty sure turtles have claws. Or…something.” Remus shifted onto his side to face Sirius. He rested his free hand on Sirius’s stomach. “Y’r warm.”
Sirius turned to grin at him. “You want your heat source to go feed the cat?”
“No,” Remus whined, tucking himself against Sirius’ side. “Five more minutes.”
