you were sure your formula 1 romance would be the next booktok hit. you had everything: exclusive paddock access, a one-on-one interview with a driver (you were very specific about which one), and more than enough inspiration. what you didn’t plan for was not getting your first choice, developing a questionable emotional attachment, and the growing suspicion that he isn’t exactly… alive.
warnings: vampire, one suspiciously calm driver, blood & drinking blood references, falling for the worst possible option, references to death and immortality, this is just research (it isn’t), questionable survival instincts.
how to paint pitch blue in dark red
— vampire oscar. (landoscar)
Lando doesn’t look behind when he hears the noise of an opening door. He mostly doesn’t care; it’s a public pool, could be anyone. But then he remembers it’s rather late, and he’s specifically in the indoor area, where it's more lonely and moody. Some nice place to be mourning.
His head tilts back, noticing a woman walking away, as a male enters. The big windows that should be facing some sort of garden are closed, and even though it’s dark outside, Lando wished they were open. The view might be debatable, but it helps the feeling of claustrophobia, being stuck somewhere he can’t escape.
Takes him more than minutes to realise it’s Oscar. The walking gives it away. How he comes close to the border before jumping, childish-like of him, in Lando’s opinion—although if he got himself in the water, he‘d probably do the same. He emerges again in the middle of the large blue extension of tiles. Somehow, the sickly white tone of his skin seems to match with the surroundings. Lando looks away. There’s still the winning glow on Oscar.
He chose to not get wet, sat there and swung his feet only, feeling the hot water enveloping his sore ankles. Oscar stares at him. Lando knows, even though he doesn’t have the powers of genetics on his side. Not like Oscar does. However, Lando became quite a professional at feeling when Oscar is ogling him, never giving it too much thought and just assuming it's something vampires do. Stare.
Oscar swims closer, making waves as his body cuts through the pool, closer to Lando, who sighs in defeat.
“Why are you here?” He sounds more annoyed than he should. But then Lando’s still depressed over the weekend, couldn’t manage a better tone when Oscar was disturbing his peace.
“Didn’t know you bought the place, mate.”
Lando holds back the urge to fight back. No, but I could.
“Forgot my sunblock, in simpler terms,” Oscar completes before Lando can say anything further. “Sucks to be around here without suppositories.”
Lando knows that too. Mainly because he heard Jon commenting on how it could go bad for Oscar and all his lab rats modified genes. Not as bad as Lando would like because it’s still a night race, but it should’ve been uncomfortable for him anyway.
They don’t usually burn in the sun, like the obscure stories he heard as a kid; nevertheless, light and vampires don’t usually go well together. Seems rather unfair looking from outside; people like Oscar get to be the summit of human civilisation and still have to give things away. No long walks on the beach, unless you’re filled with proper medicine for that. No common diet, blood at least two times a day to stay healthy. And still.
There he is—race winner. The type of champion that attaches to your neck and—takes.
“Why are you here, though?” Oscar’s voice travels across the area, echoing through the walls, shattering his skull. “Reckon you could go somewhere nicer, the beach maybe.”
Lando side-eyes him, “No, thanks. Maybe when it’s not pitch black outside.”
“Suit yourself.”
Oscar dips his head, trying to get the water to fix the messy situation on his head. His hair smells like champagne, a reminder of a podium, also a note of Lando’s horrendous, dismaying performance. It weighs. The win, the gap, the pole, the champagne, and his fangs out and grinning for a crowd. The win.
“Thought you guys didn’t get along well with water.” Lando bursts out before he can get his mind around it.
Oscar frowns, “That’s holy water, it’s different.”
Lando hums in agreement, trying to wrap his head around why people made in laboratories, with the finest equipment ever, get hurt when some blessed liquid is thrown at them.
Silence stays for a moment. It’s unfair. Oscar won; it’s done, nothing else matters, time’s not going back, and there’s nothing Lando can do about that besides sitting around and collecting his mistakes. He’s being selfish, a bit of a cunt too. Sharp tongue wanting to hurt Oscar, share the pain of being two steps under.
“I can hear your heart.”
Oscar turns to him, pupils wide, shaking. Rabbit caught hopping too high.
“Did you eat?” Lando asks, unsure, holding back the grin; it’s nice to see him suffer for a while.
“No, had a problem with my pills too.”
Oscar tries to play casually about it. Lando knows he has to cover up the earlier loss, either by drinking blood or getting himself some pills to enable the hunger until he gets a chance to kill it. He can’t have either of those.
“C’mere.”
Lando wonders if at least part of what his mother told him as a kid is true. That vampires are, indeed, creatures with the purpose of hunting only. Their ruby-coloured eyes, white skin—never seen the sun—and the endless boredom—no long walks on the beach—are part of their gifted traits.
Oscar hesitates, as if he’s not sure whether it’s safe to approach. Lando wants to scream.
“C’mon, mate,” he whines, “I don’t have all night.”
Oscar swims carefully, like any disturbance in the water would break down the moment. Lando is not used to this. He’d only ever seen the version of Oscar that does not feel the unhinged hunger. His eyes were never dark, and his canines never begged for skin like they seem to do.
Lando’s insides bubble in fear. Suddenly he’s aware of how uncontrolled Oscar looks, almost losing it as he gets closer. Lando would like to break him down and eat the crumbles.
Oscar places himself in the middle of Lando’s legs. Suggestive and bold. Kind of careless too, trusting too much that Lando won’t try to drown him.
“Open your mouth.”
Lando can’t tell why he asks so or explain the painful beating against his chest. Adrenaline crawls in his veins, and mania begins showing itself inside his brain. Caged behind his skull, he’s becoming deranged, obsessing over the slow pace that Oscar obeys. His pointy fangs lay protuberant on his tongue.
He rubs his thumb against them. Counting, marking, feeling the hard pressure on the tip of his finger. Lando goes further. Circles his molars, premolars, brushing his tongue on the way. Oscar stares, passive and silent, breathing heavily, salivating around Lando’s knuckles.
“Do it.”
Lando moves, shoving his wrist against Oscar’s lips. He hesitates again. Could be a trap.
Oscar’s falling for it.
“It’ll hurt.”
“I know.”
“Are you sure about—”
“No, Oscar, to be very honest.”
Lando has that trembling voice in him, like he’s begging for it. Imploring for a bit of pain as a punishment, perhaps wanting to be hurt, gushing organs and sorrows.
Oscar bites him.
Lando can’t tell, but at some point the world spiralled into chaos blue. Oscar licks on his wrist, tongue darting out, blood flowing down his throat. Red cells, leukocytes, all dripping down his chin. He looks good like that. Some scarlet feverish dream, starving for every single part of flesh.
He sucks the teeth mark, and then Lando notices he’s hard because it makes his dick ache.
“Oscar.”
The name rolls out without his wanting. Lando’s body feels limp, controlled not by him but by someone else. By Oscar.
He turns to Lando. Messy cheeks, all red and shiny, almost like he’s been deprived of eating for days. He looks good. Wild, feral, ready to rip off Lando’s viscera. He licks his lips before getting them back to work, ignoring the tent on Lando’s trousers.
“Oscar”, Lando pushes himself to the stained pool, blue meeting ruby; some barriers are being broken.
Oscar holds his waist, pinning Lando against the border, too focused on getting dirty with his blood. Lando’s head lolls, embraced by the hot water and drunkenly reaching for Oscar. His hips moving forward, reaching and reaching.
Oscar shoves his thigh between his legs. Lando doesn’t catch the exact moment he starts humping, but it happens. His senses are numb, cock throbbing in his pants, hurting. He wants to get off so bad. Just a bit more. Oscar should take more. Bite again and suck him dry. His hips move faster.
Lando drops his forehead on Oscar’s shoulders, whining shyly. He’s offering. Showing neck and whimpering whenever Oscar rubs his tongue against the swelling wound on his wrist. Oscar grabs his hair, forcing his scalp with savage fingers. He’s still dirty with blood, and Lando wants it so much.
On his lips. Maybe above. Maybe under. Bite. Take more, drink him up and absorb all he ever had to give, swallow up the sadness and anger, raging over stupidity. Drink him.
Lando comes with a cry, drooping over Oscar. His muscles are gone; so is his right mind. Nothing echoes inside. There’s silence and murky water. Still weights, the sun, the podium. The bite.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Oscar realizes all of a sudden what’s going to happen. He reaches up, blood soaked hand cradling Arthur’s face, “Do what you need to…Arthur.”
Arthur’s expression crumples, clearly holding himself back as he cover’s Oscar’s hand with his own, “Oscar, are you sure?”
The urge to laugh bubbles up in his throat, but he’s not completely sure if he’ll be able to catch his breath again if he gives into the instinct. He wasn’t sure of much, but he could say, “My death does not belong on your hands, Arthur.”
A Prequel to my Holy Ghosts vampire!Oscar/hunter!Noel fic I posted two weeks ago, huge thanks to @absoluteocellibehavior who inspired this and assisted with editing :)
Post your favorite AU story down below, and mention at least 5 people you think would enjoy it. If you dont have a favorite AU story, post your top 5 Oscar and Ozpin AU that the fandom has created. Then reblog if you see one of your top 5 AUs mentioned. All I want to know is how far this Oscar and Ozpin AU madness has spread. 100′s? 1000′s? 100,000′s? More?!?
