plsss if u would, do a yappa yappa about these?
- mountain calling (carcar)
- sunburnt orange (landoscar)
hehe ofcc my liege
so . mountain calling is just this post by the lovely @girldriveroscar ,.,.i am normally not moved by carcar but in this one instance. my brain is going supersonic . [im not gonna spoil any more so im sharing what u have already read hehe]
All of it is stupidly cliche. Some idyllic rocky trail, all lush greenery to accompany the picture book views and the distinct scent of the sea. Flowers are the undernote, zipping by in his peripheral vision. Oscar knows how to appreciate beauty when he sees it. And Carlos. Cherry cheeked, woodsy, citrusy Carlos is beside him—tan from the sun that’s tucked behind clouds, generic branded navy blue bodysuit clinging to his deliciously toned legs that seem to stretch on for miles. L’amore dice Ciao might as well be playing. Paired with the smile that never seems to being fading from Carlos’ face as he rambles on about how he hates England, he misses Maranello, Monaco is so much more romantic— “I don’t,” Oscar huffs out, struggling to keep pace, “Don’t think this is much more romantic than London, mate.” Carlos laughs, “Do not worry, we are near a stopping point. Shade included, too.” “Thank god,” Oscar mumbles under his panting, leaning forward on his bike in a vain attempt to relieve the slight burning in his thighs. All because of a stupid fucking bet. It had been in the dredges of a humid hotel room, Uno cards strewn about the floor as Lando grinned, “If Carlos gets on the podium in Abu Dhabi, Osc, you should go cycling with him.” “Fuck no,” was the immediate answer, “Not my type of scene.” But, Carlos and his stupidly big espresso colored eyes, those distractingly ridiculous pink pouty lips, “Oh, you are no fun Oscar. I will be a much better tour guide than Lando.” And only in the interest of comparing, of realizing that in truth Oscar had honestly nothing better to do in Monaco, “Fine. But if I podium, you have to come surfing with me.” “Deal,” Carlos had smiled, hair flopping in front of his alcohol tinted face. So. It’s the hardest trail, the sun is far too hot and Carlos Sainz is sweating beautifully as he downs his water bottle, thighs sinfully spread as he rests on a rock. His eyes are unsubtly raking up and down Oscar’s body, like he’s hungry. Or appreciative. Or both, Oscar’s too winded to be picking apart reactions and emotions.
And. three people have asked me about sunburnt orange and i fear i have nothing to show for it other than — that heatstroke painting i did of a lando, but this time in fic form with oscar losing his mind at sunburnt lando with nipple piercings. coupled with gym sex because lando also loses his mind about how much oscar has beefed up. tbh just two losers absolutely obsessed with each other . and lando being whiny bc his sunburn still hurts .
