Carlos’s breaths were harsh against Charles’s neck, trying not to shake too hard against him. He was sitting in Charles’s lap, impaled on his dick and wrapped around him like a koala. They’re sweaty, slick skin sliding together as Carlos moved his hips slowly, back and forward.
This was only something they did if they had time, if there wasn’t any training or races to attend. Carlos was particular and wasn’t often on the receiving end of sex, but Charles had opened his eyes to a whole new world he wasn’t even aware existed.
Something about Charles shoved deep inside him with there being almost no room between them made Carlos feel crazy, like he’d be willing to go insane if it meant feeling like this all the time.
They’re both sticky from Carlos’s previous orgasms, covering both their stomachs, catching in the hair at the base of Carlos’s cock. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care about the discomfort of drying come on his skin. He only cares about how good Charles is and how he lets him do this, ride him until he physically couldn’t.
Charles’s hands are pressed bruisingly against Carlos’s waist, trying his best not to guide him, not to rush. It was hard, especially when all he wanted was to flip him over and fuck him into the hotel bed they were sitting on. He can feel Carlos’s hot breaths against him, breaths that turn into whines, then into broken cries.
Carlos’s hips moved a bit frantically, chasing the very last bits of pleasure, biting down into Charles’s shoulder to quiet himself down. His eyes squeezed shut as he came unceremoniously between them, not even sure how many times he’d tensed against Charles at this point. With his forehead pressed against Charles’s shoulder, he watched the pitiful way his cock jolted, slapping against his stomach with nothing more to give, just a drop of precome forming at the tip. He can’t help but rake his blunt fingernails down Charles’s back, marking up his pale skin.
Carlos can’t get a good breath, clinging to Charles even harder, needing him to stay right where he was, so he could relish in it. “I-I can’t- anymore-“ he whimpered, practically dead weight in Charles’s lap.
“I know,” Charles hummed, pressing kisses to any skin he could reach, reaching up to run a hand through Carlos’s sweat-dampened hair. “But I’m not done with you yet,” Charles purred.
Carlos had a feeling he would say that, making a noise in the back of his throat, both in uncertainty and excitement. “I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow,” Carlos muttered, not complaining as he felt Charles lay him back, still sheathed inside of him.
Charles’s touches remained gentle, taking in the sight of Carlos beneath him. He was more than perfect, flawless as he laid spread out on the white sheets, covered in his own come and sweat. “Good,” Charles smirked, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
Indulging his teenage teammate’s wildest fantasies was not usually something he did, but it was getting harder and harder to deny his own feelings, the teeny tiny crush that had blossomed into something Daniel wasn’t ready to face yet.
Daniel felt a sort of hot, burning shame as he watched Max move himself into place, both of them naked. Daniel was certain he would’ve backed out by now, but seeing Max in all his glory, all pale skin and baby fat, only made him want him more.
They were already a weird tangle of limbs, Daniel sitting with his legs spread and Max sat in the space between them. Max’s legs were hooked over Daniel’s thighs, lazily hugged around his waist. In this position, they could scoot close enough to have their cocks right up against each other, perfect for what Max had wanted to do.
Daniel had almost fainted when Max mentioned he had a fleshlight a week prior, even worse off when the kid conjured up this idea that he wanted to use it with Daniel.
Daniel could barely think, barely breathe, Max pouring a generous amount of lube on his cock. Daniel was already hard, of course— he’d been fighting off the urge to pop a boner all week, so it was a relief that he could finally let himself lust after Max with just him to witness it. Max had been awkward at first, jittery, giggly, permanently flushed red as he used the silicone toy on Daniel, using gentle flicks of his wrist. Daniel had to try hard not to collapse back against the bed, leaned back on his hands instead. Daniel’s brain kept conjuring up flashes of Max fucking this thing in his free time, putting all his strength into going as deep as he could, coming into the tight pocket of silicone so hard he sees stars. It shouldn’t have turned Daniel on so much, but he was so far gone for him at this point, Daniel wasn’t sure he could make excuses for himself anymore.
“How does it feel?” Max asked suddenly, still stroking Daniel. He would easily admit that he’d imagined this exact scenario a hundred different times, not ashamed of how much he wanted Daniel. “You’re so big, can’t believe you fit in there,” Max mused, using his free hand to trace the entrance, feeling how monstrously stretched it felt. It’s an obscene sight, Max staring at Daniel with those too-blue eyes and practically drooling over how Daniel’s cock looks, nestled into the sleeve, almost too big to fit.
Daniel let out a groan, much louder than the ones he’d made before. “Feels really good,” Daniel huffed and reached down to place a hand on Max’s thigh, smoothing his hand up to his tummy, feeling the hard line of muscle there, grateful to be able to touch him like this. “You feel better,” he teased, watching Max’s expression turn helpless, like he wants to sit himself in Daniel’s lap instead of using the toy. “Have you thought about this a lot, Maxie?” Daniel asked shakily.
Max nodded eagerly, pressing the fleshlight all the way down and leaving it there for a few moments, letting Daniel relish in the feeling. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he admitted, accent thicker than usual.
“Is this how you do it on yourself?” Daniel breathed, biting his lip as he watched Max’s pace slow, the squelch of the fleshlight quiet between them.
“I do it faster,” Max murmured. “I imagine it’s you, sometimes,” he admitted, looking away from Daniel for a moment, wishing he could hide his embarrassment a little better.
“You make believe it’s me?” Daniel gasped, nearly losing it at the thought of Max being so into fucking him. “You’re gonna kill me, Max,” Daniel whined, resisting the urge to push his hips up into the soft silicone.
Max made sure not to stop his stroking, finally breaking eye contact with his movements to look up at Daniel. “Would you like that? Even if I’m younger?” Max asked timidly. He’d always assumed it was an age thing for Daniel, that the thought of having his much younger teammate fuck him was too far for him. If Max had it his way, he’d be plowing into Daniel most days.
“Fuck, Max,” Daniel groaned, letting his head loll back, his hand moving to rest on top of Max’s around the toy, still letting Max guide it. “You can do whatever you want to me, seriously,” he murmured, breaths getting choppier as he watched Max go faster. He felt a bit crazy with lust, like he never wanted to stop feeling like this, never wanted Max to stop being the innocent little teenager he was, spilling all his greatest desires to him.
Max recognized Daniel’s change of behavior, knowing he was getting closer by the second; it made Max move with a bit more intention. “I want to bend you over in my driver room, so I can fuck you on my couch,” Max blurted out, feeling like Daniel would appreciate a glimpse into his mind. “I think about doing it after every race, Danny.”
Daniel’s jaw was slack as Max spoke, gingerly digging his nails into Max’s wrist. He was speechless as he imagined himself, completely at Max’s mercy, getting fucked like a slut, right on the paddock. It’s not something he’d ever done before, never even thought of testing that boundary. Knowing that Max didn’t care and would rather let his post-race adrenaline take over, just to be able to have Daniel, was too much to handle all at once, and it sent him over the edge.
Daniel let out a moan that was fit for porn, eyes closing as he came inside the fleshlight, thighs shaking and hips trying to buck into the warmth of it. Max’s pace only slowed down a bit, milking the older man of his seed.
Max watched Daniel in awe, in love with how he looked when he came, even more obsessed with how well he’d reacted to the premise of getting fucked by him. “You like that idea,” Max said, more of a statement than a question. Before he pulled the toy off of him, Max leaned forward to kiss Daniel breathless, swallowing every oversensitive mewl Daniel made, pushing his tongue into the hot cavern of his mouth.
When Max did pull away, he was panting, feeling much too worked up to not do something about it. Max leaned back, reluctantly, so they had room between them again. Daniel still seemed to be gathering himself as Max pulled the toy off of him, careful not to spill any of his come. “What a waste,” he sighed, resting his weight on his free hand behind him. Max’s eyes were trained on the slit of the toy, currently dripping with Daniel’s come. He didn’t say a word as he tipped it upside down over his cock, letting a few drops fall down his length, his cock an angry red, clearly having been neglected for far too long.
Daniel hadn’t recovered yet, thrown for another loop as he watched Max lower the silicone sleeve to his tip, spreading his come around the opening even more. Daniel knew he’d never forget the sight of Max using his come to slide into the toy with ease, wanting it burned into the back of his eyelids. “Wow,” Daniel said dumbly, unable to articulate how insanely hot Max looked at the moment.
“Danny,” Max whined softly, wanting to put on a bit of a show for him as he used the toy on himself, knowing he wouldn’t last very long. “Show me how you want me to fuck you,” he instructed, as calmly as he could when he’d never taken the reigns before, not with Daniel.
Daniel’s hands moved before his brain could catch up, replacing Max’s hand on the toy like he told him to. He didn’t break eye contact with Max once, pumping faster, harder. “Like this,” he muttered, twisting his wrist for good measure. “Hard as you want, fast as you want, for as long as you want,” he purred, using his free hand to tangle into Max’s hair, pressing another passionate kiss to his mouth. “Anywhere you want,” Daniel tacked on, whispering it against his lips.
Max was never going to last, not as long as Daniel was there, being so impossibly perfect, saying all the right things and doing them even better. “Daniel,” he gasped one last time, kissing him as he came inside the fleshlight as well, mixing with Daniel’s come. He breathed harshly after pulling away, still feeling the aftershocks as Daniel pulled the toy off, setting it on the empty side of the bed.
Daniel practically tackled Max into another kiss, laying him back on the bed and using his weight to keep him pinned down. “Fuck me, please,” Daniel begged, his eyebrows furrowing as he pleaded, moving himself so he was straddling Max, desperate for him to be balls deep inside of him already.
Lando had always had a hard time believing people when they said they liked him.
When Carlos first admitted to him that he liked him as more than a friend, he had thought it was a joke, genuinely. Carlos took action immediately, though, proved to him instantly that it was true by kissing him and not pulling away until Lando reciprocated.
Now, a few years on and a move to another team later, Lando still struggled to believe it sometimes. Carlos had never let up, never stopped professing his love or touching him wherever he could while cameras were watching.
It felt too good to be true, having Carlos in his lap while they made out, hot and sweaty and too drunk to be making good decisions.
Carlos had been glued to his side all night, whispering things in his ear that Lando couldn’t repeat, quite handsy as he got more and more intoxicated.
Technically, this was supposed to be a celebration for Max, the club full of other drivers and their girlfriends, as well as a few team principles. Lando had only shown up because Carlos insisted. Even after not being teammates for a couple of years, Lando still couldn’t get out of the habit of doing anything he asked him to do. They’d snuck into one of the private VIP rooms and hoped to God it wasn’t booked tonight.
“What about Charles, huh?” Lando asked between kisses, both to tease and as a serious question. He knew their relationship wasn’t completely innocent, and he didn’t want to upset Charles if it was more serious between them than they led on. “I’m not making out with his boyfriend, am I?” Lando chuckled, hands shamelessly going to unbutton Carlos’s shirt.
“No,” Carlos sighed and went to kiss Lando’s neck as he undressed him, unsteady and sloppy, wishing he could just have Lando inside of him already. “Well- Yes, but- it’s okay. Seriously,” Carlos insisted, pulling away when Lando started to tug his shirt off. “He knows about how we used to be. And that I like you too,” Carlos murmured, fingers shakily unbuttoning Lando’s shirt as well, smiling softly when he felt Lando’s hands on his hairy chest.
Lando is surprised to hear that Charles was apparently okay with this. He supposed it made sense, especially since Charles’s fling with Max was no secret to the rest of the grid, but it was still a bit jarring that they were open, yet still together. “What if I fuck you so good you’ll want to come back to me?” Lando purred and kissed Carlos again, the Spaniard moaning into his mouth, obviously liking the way he was talking.
“I love him,” Carlos said and instinctively grinded his hips down against Lando, their clothed cocks rubbing together, making Carlos’s brain feel mushy. “I love you too,” he smirked, still rolling his hips against him as he kissed Lando once more.
Lando gasped as Carlos grinded into him, his hands landing on Carlos’s ass, helping him move back and forth. He was speechless at Carlos’s words, even though he’d heard him say it before. It still felt unreal to have someone so beautiful, so perfect, so talented, love him.
Lando doesn’t check to see if the door to the room is locked before he laid Carlos back on the bench they were sitting on, almost immediately going to unbutton his pants. “Fucker,” he huffed out, hurriedly tugging Carlos’s pants and boxers off. “Every time I think I’m over you, you say some shit like that,” he murmured, going to start a tirade of kisses all over his chest, all while his hand wrapped around Carlos’s heavy cock, hard and leaking in his fist, wanting Lando’s touch badly.
Carlos could do nothing but lay there and take it, listening to Lando express his woes about their strange relationship. “Stop it,” he whined, a reaction to Lando stroking him slowly, his legs wrapping around Lando to pull him closer. “Don’t get over me, please,” he begged, head tipping back as Lando’s lips started a trail down his tummy, nipping his hip bones playfully.
“I won’t,” Lando assured, tongue darting out to lick a fat stripe up the length of Carlos’s cock, humming as his lips wrapped around the head.
Carlos’s eyes widened at how electric Lando’s tongue felt, much too worked up to react normally. He hadn’t been touched by Lando in a good while, and being drunk just made everything feel fuzzy and warm at the edges. “Lando,” he groaned, tangling a hand into his hair when Lando started bobbing his head, sucking his length down with ease.
Before Carlos could even process what was happening, he could feel his body tighten up and release without warning, his cock twitching as he came in Lando’s mouth. Carlos let out a pitiful moan, feeling both embarrassed and greedy about it, about how much he loved Lando. He’d never done this before, never finished himself off before they even started. It was a lot to handle, both his feelings and his desire for Lando, but he’d never thought it would make him come so fast.
Lando pulled off in surprise, watching the rest of Carlos’s come spurt out and drip down his fist, spitting out the rest over the head, stroking him through it despite his shock. That was definitely new. If anything, it was usually Lando who struggled to last very long when he was turned on. It felt good to know that he made Carlos this way, so sensitive that he couldn’t even last a minute. “Oh, you poor thing,” Lando chuckled sweetly and let go of his cock, giving Carlos a break before they continued.
Carlos struggled to catch his breath, still processing what he’d just done. Sure, Charles had pulled orgasms out of him pretty quickly before, but never like this. “I don’t- I didn’t mean to-“ he tried to explain between big breaths, only relaxing when he felt Lando’s lips kiss him on the cheek, then his lips, sweet and simple.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Lando murmured. “I’m sexy, I know it’s hard to contain yourself,” he joked, laughing when Carlos shoved gently at his shoulder. “I love you too,” he said, punctuating his joke with something that would soothe the older man’s embarrassment.
Carlos’s hands went to cover his face, still processing what had just occurred. “I know,” he murmured, muffled by his hands. “I love you too much,” he decided.
Oscar knows he shouldn’t, really should not listen to Lando this time around.
Lando is insistent, staring at him expectantly.
Just a month ago, he would’ve never even thought of touching Lando in the way he was asking him to, especially not here, in McLaren’s hospitality.
They’re sitting beside each other in one of the few booths in the dining area, barely shielded by their table. Oscar looks around as inconspicuously as he can before his gaze lands on Lando again. Lando’s eyes are trained on his mouth, and he has to look away, or else he might scream or cry, or maybe both. He often gave in to what Lando wanted him to do without question, so his willingness wasn’t in question. It was the approach that scared him, the uncertainty of it all.
Oscar took another moment to gather his courage, one of his hands finding its way onto Lando’s upper thigh, gently squeezing. He feels Lando spread his legs, and it prompts him to move his hand to cup the bulge in his jeans, Lando’s cock feeling firm and full in his hand. “You’re already hard,” he whispers, fingers fiddling with the zipper, slightly relieved when he was able to open it without a struggle. “Were you thinking about me during free practice?” Oscar teased, making sure his tone was even. He knew that from afar, the conversation needed to at least seem normal.
“Yeah, I was,” Lando sighs and schools the look on his face, instinctually wanting to scrunch his features in pleasure. He’d just had Oscar the night before, yet he still felt so worked up over him, his hard cock proof enough of his infatuation. “Turns me on when you do well,” Lando laughs again, holding his breath as Oscar slipped him out of his boxers, the cold air hitting him and making goosebumps rise on his skin.
Oscar wants to giggle, express his giddiness at how silly Lando sounded, how much he loved him for it, but he refrained. His fingers wrapped around him gingerly, slow flicks of his wrist making precome collect at the tip of Lando’s cock. “How would you react if I won a race?” He smiled, still looking straight at Lando as he thumbed the slit, rubbing the sensitive area to get him worked up.
Lando doesn’t say anything for a minute. He’s going insane, briefly wondering what it would take to get Oscar to sit in his lap, grind down on his cock until he came against him. Oscar’s hands were magical, delicate and soft, deftly working him. “I think I’d come in my pants,” Lando jokes and does nothing to hide his gasp, looking away from Oscar’s intense stare.
Oscar’s eyes are back on his phone after Lando gasps, mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. He’s trying to do everything in his power to not look like he was jerking Lando off, scooting a bit closer to him to make his movements less noticeable. It’s a lot to take in, how much Lando wants him sometimes, but Oscar feels just as obsessive about his teammate. “If I win, how will we celebrate?” Oscar asks lowly, still looking at his phone, feeling Lando’s hips push up into his hand.
Lando can’t think, can’t speak, so turned on he was certain he’d burst into flames. With Oscar’s fingers rubbing his slit, he can barely even stay still, calming his hips and pressing himself down into his seat, willing himself not to buck up into his grip. “Dinner. Champagne. You fucking me all night,” Lando bites his lip and tries to mimic Oscar, grabbing his phone in his shaky hand and failing to input his code on the first attempt.
Oscar looks at Lando amusedly, chances a glance down at his lap, mouth watering at the sight of Lando leaking all over his fist, probably just at the edge of his climax. “I like the sound of that,” Oscar hums. He looks back at Lando’s face, this time intent on watching his reactions. Oscar moves his hand faster, too, twisting his wrist just so.
Lando doesn’t dare look back at Oscar. He knows that as soon as he did, he’d make some stupid noise and blow their cover completely. Lando drops his phone back on the table and looks down as well, watching every movement of Oscar’s hand. “Oscar,” he says, barely above a whisper, desperation in his tone.
“Already close?” Oscar pouts playfully and slows down again, holding back the laugh he wants to let out when Lando’s eyes widen, obviously shocked that he’s being a bit of a tease. “Come for me,” he murmurs, relentlessly stroking him now, not letting up one bit. “I know you can’t help it, feels too good,” he says sweetly, laying it on thick for Lando.
Lando would usually disagree and say that he was perfectly capable of holding on, but it’s impossible to do so at the moment. He’d been pent up all morning, thinking about their previous night and anticipating spending time with Oscar after practice, craving him in every way. Lando does little to hide his reaction as he came all over Oscar’s fist, dripping over his fingers and down his length. Lando’s head tips back for a moment, quickly righting the action and trying not to shake at how sensitive he felt, having Oscar work every last drop out of him. He manages to stay quiet, but his breaths tell another story, choppy and heaving.
Oscar slows his movements down to a stop, gently squeezing his cock one last time before pulling his hand away. Luckily, they’d gotten napkins for the meal they’d just had, so it was easy to pass the mess off as such, crumpling up the napkins and throwing them onto their empty plates once he was finished. He shamelessly watches Lando push himself back into his jeans. “I’ll see you in a few,” Oscar says suddenly, standing up and grabbing both of their plates so he could bus them. “My room. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Lando wants to follow him right then and there, but he knows it’s for the best if he hangs back for a second, for the sake of their public image. It would do him good to take a moment to gather himself, anyway.
Charles shifts in his seat, clearing his throat for no reason in particular, trying his best not to show the mixture of arousal and nervousness on his face. It's only a day until he and Carlos are set to race in Australia, so they’re at Albert Park, sitting in on some meeting that he didn’t think he really needed to be there for. He listens vaguely and scribbles whatever random words he hears just to make it seem like he cares. Charles crosses one leg over the other and has to stop writing. The plug inside of him shifts too, pressing into his prostate, his eyes closing to try and gather himself.
Carlos catches him first, gives him a strange look when he sees the weird chicken scratch on his Ferrari-branded notepad. He’d noticed Charles was slightly off his game today, his mind somewhere else.
“You good?” Carlos leans in and whispers into Charles’s ear, raising a brow at him.
Charles startles at the voice in his ear and looks at Carlos like he’s the weird one, nodding his head and forcing a tight smile onto his face.
“I’m great, mate,” Charles insists, looking back down at his notepad so he could hide the embarrassed blush on his cheeks, wishing Carlos would just drop it.
Carlos decides it probably isn’t worth getting into right now and squints at Charles, letting out an unsatisfied hum before looking back at the man presenting.
———
Charles's breaths were harsh, forcing out hot puffs of air as Daniel pistoned into him. They’re too loud, wet, slapping sounds coming from their stall in the cramped bathroom, Daniel’s breathing just as ragged. They’re in some random bathroom in the paddock, one that had seemed dead and empty before they called it their home base for the day.
Daniel needs this to be dirty and fast, before anyone else decides to join them and ruin their fun. He’d waited several months for his and Charles’s schedules to finally converge, and he was going to take full advantage of the fact. Daniel knew it wouldn’t have been hard to just follow Charles around the world as he raced, but they had to be careful about it. It wouldn’t make sense for Daniel to be at every race if his contract didn’t say so, so he played it cool, played the waiting game.
“You’re so wet,” Daniel grunts and reaches up to grab a fistful of Charles’s hair, pulling a pitiful sob out of him. “You fucking love being filled up with my come, huh?” Daniel growled into his ear, already close to his end. It was an incredible feeling, fucking his own come back into Charles, feeling velvety and slick around his cock.
Charles can’t find the words to respond, not when his body feels like it’s made of red-hot lava, not when he’s tensing and squeezing tightly around Daniel, shooting his load all over the floor and toilet below them. Charles doesn’t say anything, just whines and tries not to pass out from the euphoria he feels.
Daniel is content with the way he made Charles, ruined him completely for anyone else, reduced him to nothing but a hole to hold all of his come. “You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled softly. He comes in a few more strokes of his hips, adding to the two loads already inside of Charles from this morning. Daniel plans to do this a couple more times before the day ends, just to be able to see Charles swollen with his seed.
Daniel pulls out nice and easy, slowly so he could catch anything that dripped out with the plug he pushes back into him, fit with a pretty, pink jewel on the end. “I’ll see you tonight, beautiful,” he purrs, still pressed close behind as he helped Charles pull his pants back up, buttoning them and zipping them up from behind.
“Be good for me.”
———
Charles is laid back on the plush seats of his hotel bed, completely naked. His legs are spread, knees bent, hands clasped obediently above his head. He’s looking up at him with teary, glittering eyes, silently pleading for Daniel to touch him. Between his legs, the plug sparkles in the low light of the room.
Daniel is knelt on the bed in front of him, also naked, just staring, taking in Charles’s perfect body. He’s all freckles and soft skin, his belly unusually round where there was supposed to be abs, full of Daniel’s come. “I wish I could actually get you pregnant,” Daniel sighed dreamily and scooted forward, one hand gliding down Charles’s inner thigh and the other going to grip his hard cock, looking small in his large hand.
Charles doesn’t know how to admit that the thought of Daniel impregnating him made his head spin and his cock ache, trying to stay still as Daniel touched him. “Me too,” he smiled softly, looking down at his belly, bringing a hand down to rest on the bulge and gently pressing his fingers into his flesh. “You would fuck me until I’m about to pop, pervert,” he teases, welcoming the weight of Daniel’s body as he leaned down to kiss him.
Daniel laughs at that, nibbling Charles’s bottom lip. “Think you can handle one more load?” Daniel asks lowly, lips just centimeters from Charles’s face.
Charles doesn’t even have to think about it, just nods frantically and bites back a yelp when he feels Daniel start kissing trails down his neck.
He’d spent a good chunk of his life constantly preparing for the worst; his ability to stay cool in unsavory situations was second nature.
It’s Lewis leaning over and kissing him that exceeds all his expectations for his night.
Max wasn’t even sure where it came from, delicate, well-manicured hands reaching up to cup his face and kiss him slowly, moving with him as he settled into the kiss.
Max had invited a few drivers over after his home race, wanting to have a lowkey celebration for his win. The group consisted of Charles, Carlos, Lando, George, and Alex, the usual suspects when it came to Max’s celebrations. George had told him very last minute that Lewis was joining too. It’s not that Max minded, but it made him a bit nervous, considering their history. Max had never made a habit of seeing Lewis outside of races, but he would never say no. He made another space at the table and set out another set of silverware, no big deal.
The group had dwindled throughout the night, until it was just him and Lewis sat across from each other on the couch. Where Max expected awkwardness and resentment, Lewis surprised him by being funny and easy-going, equally as intoxicated as the Dutchman. Max tried to listen more than talk, knowing if he tried to go as in-depth as he usually did, it’d be an unintelligible slurry of words. He was content to listen to Lewis talk about particular laps of their race, or about how shitty his car felt at times, even about Roscoe, who he regretted not bringing with him this time around. Max, of course, indulged him with his own thoughts on it, as best as he could with a belly full of beer.
Max couldn’t even remember what he’d been talking about at that moment, something about his proclivity for understeering, but he’d seen something shift on Lewis’s face while he spoke, his features softening and his smile widening, distracting Max from noticing Lewis moving closer.
Max kissed him back without complaint, welcoming the feeling of warm, plump lips against his own after getting over the initial shock. Max could feel himself get flustered, could feel the blood rising on his skin and making him pink all over. It prompted him to let Lewis take the lead, especially since he hadn’t kissed anyone in a little while.
When Lewis pulls away, his eyes stay closed for a second, just to savor it. “You’re cute when you ramble like that,” Lewis says after a moment, hands still holding Max’s face as he waited for his response.
Max flounders, makes an abysmal attempt at saying anything, nothing coming out from his parted lips.
Lewis giggles like they’re each other’s high school crushes, as if this was funny at all.
Lewis is kissing him again before Max figures out what to say, this time deepening the kiss and moving his hands to Max’s shoulders, that way he had something to hold onto as he pushed his tongue into his mouth. Max gave in to him easily, their tongues gliding against each other wet and slow. Lewis could already feel himself getting excited, his dick pressing against the zipper of his pants, just from a messy, drunken kiss. In all honesty, kissing Max had been on his mind a lot lately, for no other reason than to see if Max would go for it, too. Lewis was slightly tired of the narrative between them that painted them as mortal enemies. In a way, they certainly were, but Lewis was a pacifist. If he could make peace with Max, he would jump at the opportunity.
It’s Max’s turn to surprise Lewis, moving to climb into his lap, locking him in place with his thighs on either side of him. Max takes fistfuls of Lewis’s shirt in his hands and deepens the kiss even more, his movements urgent. Max wanted more, though he couldn’t find the words to express that.
They move with intent, wordlessly, hands pushing under shirts and hips grinding together. Max feels dizzy as he moves again, lips parting from Lewis’s and kissing a trail down his neck. It only takes him a moment to decide to take it a step farther, crawling down his body and dropping to his knees between Lewis’s legs, Lewis scooting himself all the way to the edge of the couch. This wasn’t really his thing, hooking up with other drivers, but he was much too drunk to not take up the opportunity when Lewis seemed to want him, too.
“Shouldn’t it be me on my knees for you, darling?” Lewis says, voice sweet and soft, lips wet with spit. One of his hands is already carding through Max’s hair, gently tugging on the dirty blonde tresses.
A smile spreads across Max’s face, crooked but charming, pushing his head up into Lewis’s hand. He shakes his head at the older man’s question. “Next time,” Max purrs and brings his hands up to fiddle with the zipper of Lewis’s jeans, tugging them down along with his boxers after he lifted his hips for him. “Consider it consolation,” he joked, eyes landing on his cock as Lewis laughed.
Lewis was by far the biggest Max had seen in person, picturesque, almost, perfectly veiny and pierced. Max had always thought that was a rumor, the extra metal Lewis carried around with him, but he was surprised once more to see the frenum piercing right there, adorning the already beautiful appendage.
Max gripped the base and stuck his tongue out to lap at the head, the tip of his tongue tracing the slit, then the piercing, before he mouthed at the length of his dick. He hummed against him, eyes closed as he enjoyed the taste and feel of hot flesh against his tongue. “Don’t think I can fit it all,” Max pouts, looking up at Lewis as he continued to lick him, wrapping his lips around the head as he sucked.
Lewis leans back against the couch and tightens his hand in Max’s hair, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he watched him work. “Try. I bet you can,” Lewis coaxed softly, rubbing Max’s temple with his thumb to encourage him.
Max chuckles, simply from his nerves, kissing the tip one last time before he was sucking him down, bobbing his head steadily. Max flattens his tongue to fit more and he feels Lewis’s hand tug at his hair, notices his hips twitch a bit. Max wants to pull more of those reactions out of him, just to see if he could pick him apart.
Lewis’s brain feels hazy and heavy, the pleasure mixing with the alcohol and making his whole body buzz. It was an incredible sight to have Max taking him like a champ, taking him to the back of his throat without as much as a gag. “You were just being cute, weren’t you?” Lewis teased, moving his hand to spread across the crown of Max’s head, pushing him farther down, testing his limits. “Something tells me you can take more than that,” he sighed.
Max hums around him and moves his hand from where he was stroking Lewis, following Lewis’s movements when he pushed him down, never breaking eye contact. Max got most of him down, tears welling in his eyes as he reached the base, breathing through his nose as best as he could.
Lewis’s brows knitted themselves together as he watched, moaning softly at the way Max took him without a struggle. “Shit, Max, look at you,” Lewis grunts and spreads his knees wider. “Knew you could do it,” Lewis chuckles breathily, letting his head lull back against the couch. He could feel Max’s throat working around him, trying his best not to gag.
Max pulls off with a soft gasp, a string of saliva connecting him to Lewis’s cock. He strokes him in the absence of his mouth, sucking in another breath. “Too big,” he insists, staring intently at the other man’s dick in his hand, watching the way his hand glided up and down on him. Max’s voice sounded more gravely than usual, wrecked from the brief attempt at deepthroating Lewis. “That’s a good thing,” Max tacked on and smirked, going back to licking along the underside, even paying special attention to Lewis’s balls, intoxicated by the musky, clean smell of him.
Lewis lets out an airy laugh and looks back down at Max, momentarily speechless with everything combined— Max’s lips plump and red, his hand feeling soft and strong at the same time, the fact that he can in fact take all of him. Lewis usually wasn’t so bashful when it came to his own pleasure, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at how fast he felt himself getting to the edge. “Can I come on your face?” He asks, wanting nothing more than to paint Max’s face white, leave his mark on him.
Max is surprised, once more at the request, nodding silently and getting his mouth back on Lewis, swirling his tongue around the head while he stroked the rest of him. “Make a mess,” Max encouraged softly, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out, stroking even faster, waiting eagerly for Lewis’s load.
Max’s words of encouragement made Lewis want to shove him back down on his cock. He wanted to push him until his nose touched the neat patch of hair at the base, until he was choking on his come, but Lewis likes the idea of coming all over his face better. It doesn’t take much more for Lewis to get there, Max’s eagerness and his touches making it easy for him to come with a groan, spurting thick ropes of come all over Max’s face.
Max closed his eyes just in time, feeling Lewis’s come land on his cheeks, some on his tongue, the rest of it dripping through his eyelashes, down to his lips. Max opened his eyes when Lewis was done, witnessing him writhing underneath him with the oversensitivity. Max licked over the head one last time to collect any stray drops, letting Lewis’s cock fall out of his hand and watching it land with a wet smack on his stomach.
Lewis is barely able to catch his breath, too enthralled with the sight of Max’s face ruined with his come. “God, you’re beautiful,” he sighs, reaching down to wipe the come that was near Max’s eye with his thumb. He didn’t hesitate to push his thumb against Max’s lips, who opened his mouth obediently to suck the come off of it.
Max hummed around Lewis’s thumb before he pulled off, resting his chin on Lewis’s knee. “Only when I’m covered in your come?” Max chortles, voice raspy and spent.
The question came out hoarse, expected after he’d just had Daniel’s cock down his throat. The question is for Daniel, though Oscar is staring at Max when he asks it.
It’s kind of unbelievable actually, the fact that he and Max are on their knees in front of Daniel, barely having said a word to each other before this. When Daniel first pitched the idea to him, he had thought it was another silly fantasy of his, something that would only live in their minds. It took Max reaching out to him personally for Oscar to realize it wasn’t a joke. Once he’d gotten over the shock of Max Verstappen texting him about a threesome, Oscar agreed to it quite quickly.
It was silently understood between them, Oscar supposed, that he and Max both messed around with Daniel, but that was it. There was no need to interact otherwise. Oscar liked it better that way, only because he wasn’t sure he could work up the courage to really talk to him. He’d spent years looking up to both Daniel and Max, it was already a miracle that Daniel had given him a chance, he hadn’t thought it was worth it to try his luck with Max too.
Oscar felt much differently now, especially after having Max watch him blow Daniel, after Daniel insisted he show off how good he was at it. The boundary he thought was necessary had crumbled in seconds, destroyed by the feeling of Max’s fingers curling in his hair and pushing him down further, whispering in his ear about how good he looked with his mouth full, his other hand tracing Oscar’s throat so he could feel the bulge of Daniel’s cock.
Daniel was still breathless, a devious smile forming on his face, as if he knew Oscar would ask. “You can do more than that, baby,” he coaxed softly.
Max made the first move, impatient, leaning in and pressing their lips together wetly, sliding his tongue against Oscar’s. This whole thing had been Max’s idea, to invite Oscar to join him and Daniel. Daniel had been practically preaching to him about how good Oscar was, about his endless stamina and the way he begged to be fucked. Max didn’t often like involving himself in Daniel’s other prospects, but he’d been made curious by everything Daniel had told him.
Oscar mewled against Max’s mouth, his hands holding both sides of his face, spit dripping down his chin from the intensity of it. It wasn’t like anything he’d experienced before, Max kissing him like his life depended on it, hot and wet and passionate. Oscar didn’t pull away until Max did, staring at him with wide eyes, silently asking for more.
“I get why Daniel never shuts up about you,” Max hummed, licking his plump, red lips to punctuate the sentence. Max’s hand found its way onto Daniel’s thigh, pulling him closer. Daniel’s cock occupied the space between Oscar and Max, still slick with spit and achingly hard.
Max leaned forward to kiss the shaft, his tongue darting out to lick up the length. “Kiss me again,” he whispered against Daniel’s cock.
Oscar understood what Max wanted him to do, leaning close too, lapping at Daniel’s dick. Oscar could feel Max’s tongue and lips brush against his, the two of them making messy work of getting Daniel off, mouthing at his cock.
Daniel could barely look down at them without wanting to come immediately, gripping both Oscar’s and Max’s hair with his hands, pressing them closer, encouraging them on. It was incredible, his two favorite boys on their knees for him, so desperate to please him. He could get used to having both of them at the same time. “Just like that,” he sighed, watching as Max bobbed his head around half the length, Oscar taking care to suck and lick at the rest of him, both looking up at him with wet, glistening eyes.
Oscar switched off with Max a few moments later, swirling his tongue around the head. Oscar didn’t take him down, though, in favor of pulling Max in by his chin, making it so both of them were lapping at his head, a tangle of tongues and a slurry of soft, sweet noises, wanting to make it hard for Daniel to last.
It worked, of course, Daniel didn’t need much encouragement. Max stroked him fast while both he and Oscar waited with their mouths open, tongues sticking out to catch the load Daniel would be giving them, staring up at him intently.
Daniel’s grip on their hair tightened, letting out a strained moan as he came, watching as his come shot into both of their mouths. Daniel was kicking himself for not filming the sight in front of him, but he was sure he would get the two of them like this again. “Don’t be greedy, Max,” he said lowly, noticing the Dutchman had gotten most of his load in the end.
Max didn’t have to be told twice, surging forward to kiss Oscar again before either of them could swallow, letting the younger boy taste Daniel on his tongue. He could feel Oscar’s hands grabbing at him, sliding up his rib cage and making him shiver, pulling him in closer, bare chests pressed together. Max had to pull back, feeling lightheaded with the lack of oxygen and his overwhelming need for Oscar. “Hard not to be,” Max quipped back.
