twilightseas
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- Formula 1 RPF (1)
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Oscar was a cool summer breeze. He was woolly jumpers. He was belly rubs and forehead kisses. He was a hot chocolate by the fire. He was the sand between your toes and the sun on your back. He was safe.
Jack was crashing waves. He was the burn of whiskey down your throat. He was the thunder that made your windows shake. He was the scratches and bruises that peppered your skin. He was exhilarating.
Or; Identical twins, Oscar and Jack Piastri, made history as the only twins to ever compete in Formula 1 but that wasn’t what Lando found so intriguing about them.
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“Oh my god,” Lando whispers, voice hoarse. “Oh my god, did we fuck?”
“What?” Oscar shoots upright.
“Wait, no, pretend I didn’t say that. I’m a man. A straight man who likes women. Of course we didn’t fuck, that’d be insane.” His words are too rushed to be anywhere near believable.
Oscar blinks slowly. “Do you—Do you actually want me to pretend I didn’t hear it, or can I ask why you think we fucked?”
Or: Oscar and Lando navigating the messy experience of falling in love in a sport where being queer isn't really an option.
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Bookmarked by twilightseas
04 Jul 2026
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“Do you think oil would be good as lube?”
Oscar jumps and bangs his head on the open bonnet.
Series
- Part 2 of in the garage
Bookmarked by twilightseas
03 Jul 2026
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He’s a bit frantic when he asks, “why did the AC just stop?”
Oscar gets up to fiddle with it, “it says it’s still on, maybe it just got tired,” he jokes.
As he says it, Lando’s phone lights up, a city-wide notification reporting a cooling outage that may take a few hours to fix.
“This is my worst nightmare,” Lando groans, throwing his head back, reading the message out loud. He can’t help it, he may be world traveled, but he is a UK boy at heart. His body can’t handle this type of muggy heat.
OR
Lando and Oscar use each other to cool down during a heat wave.
Bookmarked by twilightseas
01 Jul 2026
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It's late and it's hot and Lando Norris is bored.
Luckily, boredom fosters creativity. And so does staring at a picture of your teammate's hands apparently.Bookmarked by twilightseas
03 May 2026
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"I’m basically telling someone that there’s a high chance my brain is going to distract me enough that they no longer turn me on. They’re not going to stick around after that, are they?”
With a single shoulder shrug, and a head tilt, Oscar was taking another sip of his tea. “Maybe. Or maybe they could take it as a challenge.”
Eyebrow raised, Lando also slowly placed his cup down. “A challenge? I don’t want to be someone’s project,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and twisting to face Oscar more.
“I don’t mean like that,” Oscar assured gently, that soft smile back on his face. “I mean, don’t you think, if it were the other way round... if someone told you they were really struggling, that they were getting sensory overload to the point where they couldn’t focus on their pleasure, wouldn’t you want to make it your mission to find a way to help? Make it good for them? Help them block everything else out and keep their attention so solely focused on you and how good you were making them feel that nothing else could distract them?”
Lando is really struggling with his sensory overload. Maybe Oscar is the only one that truly understands, and will truly offer help.
Bookmarked by twilightseas
17 Feb 2026