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How did they even get here? Carlos wonders as he lowers himself into the luxury airplane seat. Not even a year ago they were cursing each other out on track. He would spend hours making snide remarks about Oscar to Lando, who didn’t share his contempt. Questioning the fact that the two McLaren drivers appeared to get along perfectly fine.
Now here they were, sharing a private plane to Bahrain. Accompanied only by Oscar’s manager, Mark Webber. He looked more than ready for a nap, if his deep eye bags were any indication.
As the engines roared to life, Oscar made himself comfortable in the seat in front of Carlos. He expected the other wanting some time for himself, so this was a pleasant surprise.
“I’m still not really used to all of this.” Oscar vaguely gestures around.
“Yeah, it’s strange to have a plane all to yourself. And I fear that once your career is over, it won’t happen again.” Carlos stuffs his airpods away, curious as to where this conversation will lead them.
“Except if you start managing another driver.” The younger man glances over at Mark, who appears fast asleep already.
Carlos inches closer to faux-whisper to Oscar. “Perhaps it’s the private plane privileges why he chose to do this. Lucky bastard.”
“What about Caco? He didn’t want to accompany us today?”
“He still had some arrangements to make for my new commercial.” He keeps it purposely vague, hoping to arouse some curiosity with Oscar. Indeed, his eyes widen as he leans forward.
“A commercial? What kind?”
“L’Oreal,” Carlos gloats as he combs a hand through his thick hair. Oscar’s gaze closely follows the movement, before giving him an appreciative nod.
“Impressive. Understandable also, you have nice hair.”
“Thank you, Oscar.” He catches the faint blush starting to appear on the other’s face. It suits him, he wonders if he can make it even worse. “You’re quite handsome yourself. It makes me question why opportunities like that haven’t come knocking at your door.”
Much to his expectation, Oscar’s cheeks get increasingly scarlet. Yet his eyes remain focused on Carlos. “Handsome?” he scoffs. “Compared to some of the guys on the grid, I’m as plain as they come.”
It takes some effort to suppress a wicked grin as Oscar gives him ample opportunity to press this further. He expected a rather awkward flight. Now, he wonders how much he can make Oscar squirm. Subtly, he moves so their feet are touching ever so slightly.
“Now you have me wondering. Who do you consider to be those handsome guys on the grid?”
Carlos expected some sputtering, uneasy shifting in his seat. Not Oscar’s unwavering gaze finding his. “Are you fishing for compliments? Expecting me to say it’s you?”
He crosses his arms, taken aback by the feisty response. It doesn’t deter from continuing along this path, however. Something compels him to push forward. Carlos doesn’t fully grasp what. Before, he had never been interested in teasing conversations with men. That type of charm is something he saved for women. To woo them into sleeping with him. This felt like walking along a knife’s edge. Excitement made an all too familiar warmth spread through him.
“Perhaps. I know what I look like. Though, I might not be everyone’s type.”
“Go on, ask.” Oscar watches him expectantly, pressing their legs together even more.
The way Oscar asserts himself makes him hot under the collar. He’s not one to back down, why not take it a step further? In two quick movements, he unbuckles his seat belt and takes the unoccupied seat next to Oscar. A waft of subtle aftershave mixed with something more earthy fills his nostrils. If any of this catches Oscar by surprise, he doesn’t show it.
“Do you find me handsome, Oscar?”
“Yes,” he answers honestly. Eyes roaming over Carlos’ face.
Carlos yearns to touch. He needs Oscar’s body heat to ground himself. To confirm that this is real. He places his hand on Oscar’s upper thigh. “You’re quite pretty yourself.”
Oscar hums noncommittally, gripping Carlos’ bicep. They are almost nose to nose. Carlos can count all the tiny birthmarks adorning Oscar’s face. Everything is happening so fast. Yet, he finds himself unwilling to stop it.
“D’you know what would make you look even prettier?” Oscar shakes his head. “Take this off.” Carlos tugs at the hem of his black polo.
Oscar haphazardly throws the article of clothing somewhere. Neither of them watch where it lands. Carlos especially can’t take his eyes off the pale skin exposed in front of him. Unmarred as it stretches over the lean muscles of Oscar’s torso. His tapered waist leads to wider hips, a perfect fit for his hands. Carlos’ tan skin perfectly contrasts with Oscar’s. A wave of goosebumps spreads over his upper body. It makes his nipples visibly harden. Carlos can’t do anything but watch with fascination, his mouth suddenly dry.
“Are you just going to stare?” Oscar’s sharp tone breaks through his haze.
“Patience,” he chuckles lightly.
Instead of bothering with an answer, Oscar manoeuvres himself to sit on Carlos’ lap. His breathing increases at the sudden weight on his thighs. This is happening and he’s going to thoroughly enjoy himself. His fingers skate along the sides of Oscar’s arms. Sliding over his shoulders before stopping at his tits. Perky nipples calling his attention. He flicks one of the buds to test the waters. It elicits a sharp inhale. Enough encouragement for him to continue.
With his thumb, he presses down on the left nipple. Scratching it with his nail before pinching it between two fingers. Tugging on it has Oscar bite down on his hand to muffle a groan.
“You are really sensitive here, no?” Carlos bemuses as the pads of his fingers ghost over the neglected bud.
“Quiet. We can’t have Mark waking up,” Oscar hisses through gritted teeth.
Fuck, Mark. Throughout it all, Carlos had completely forgotten about him. “If the plane engines won’t wake him up, nothing will.”
“Because that’s a sound he’s used to. Not us get-” The rest of the sentence remains unsaid as Oscar bites down on his lip. Carlos now rolls both nipples between his fingers, paying no mind to the warming.
Carlos tuts. “The only one being loud right now, is you. I’m half-expecting you want him to wake up. To see you in this desperate state.”
Oscar vehemently shakes his head. All the while his hips seek friction on Carlos’ thigh. The hardened cock in his pants tells a different story. “Disgusting.” His voice trembles, nullifying the intention behind the word.
“Liar,” Carlos says, before deciding that his mouth has better use elsewhere. His hands now gripping Oscar’s hips, guiding him in some kind of rhythm. He closes his mouth over one nipple and starts gently sucking. Much to Oscar’s liking, who pushes his tits even closer towards Carlos’ face and grips the back of his head.
He grazes his teeth over the bud before biting down. Hard enough to leave a mark.
“Ah, fuck,” Oscar mumbles in between laboured breathing. Eyebrows drawn close in concentration, as if it takes him every bit of effort to keep the volume down. His grinding starts picking up speed.
Perhaps Carlos likes it too, more than he would admit. Having someone there that could wake up every minute. Mark would only have to spare them a short glance to know what they are doing. Seeing Oscar’s skin littered with the evidence. Markings that convey that he allows Carlos to ravish him. Even if he won’t catch them now, they will linger for days to come. It must leave Mark wonder what happened. It pushes Carlos to sink his teeth into the skin around Oscar’s other nipple.
Oscar’s hips sputter, any sense of rhythm long gone. “Already close to finishing, Oscar? All it took was me playing with your tits?”
Half-lidded eyes catch his own. He might be far away, wrapped up in ecstasy, but he’s still making demands. “Yeah, so why did you stop? Continue.” He pulls Carlos’ face back down. Who swirls his tongue around before tugging on the bud. Hungrily sucking as though the sweat coming off Oscar’s skin could nurse him. The salty taste mixing with his own saliva. Which he dutifully swallows down.
“Carlos, your mouth, heavenly. It makes me wish my tits could offer something real to swallow,” Oscar blabbers, positively delirious. His reddened face morphing into a horrified expression once the realisation sets in.
It takes Carlos a moment to catch up as well. Oscar’s last words reverberating through his head. When the pieces slot into place, he shudders. Finding himself almost overwhelmed with excitement. Could it be? Did Oscar truly desire for something that depraved? Visions of Oscar’s tits swelling with milk flood his mind. He decides to tread carefully. “Oscar, you naughty boy. Where did that come from? Would you care to explain yourself?”
Silence stretches on as Oscar scrutinises Carlos. Probably searching for any trace of insincerity, which he won’t find. He longs to ravish Oscar. To stake his claim by way of filling him with his seed. A little push in the right direction could encourage him. Carlos won’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
“You must know that milk doesn’t come out of nowhere.” With both hands, he grabs Oscar’s tits, squeezing them gently. “Something needs to happen beforehand. I want you to say it.”
Oscar shifts on his lap, ever so slightly pushing his chest forward. Every movement reminds Carlos that he has yet to find any release. This conversation certainly wasn't helping, only making him even impossibly harder.
“Pregnancy. You would need to get me pregnant first,” he breathes out.
“And would you like that, Oscar? For me to fill you up? Have you not only walk around with my marks all over your skin, but your belly heavy with my child as well? That everybody knows that you are mine?” Oscar whines, withering on his lap. “What would Mark think, hmm?” The words spill past his lips without as much as a second thought. For this desire had lain dormant within him for a while.
“Don’t care what he has to think. Right now, I need you to make good on your word.”
The need to fulfill these desires floods through him. He can’t do anything but bring their lips together in a passionate kiss. Oscar eagerly opens up for him, his tongue exploring every part of his mouth. Oscar starts pulling Carlos impossibly closer. As if he wants them to merge together. Hungry for more. A string of saliva connects their lips as Oscar pulls away. His kiss-swollen lips glistening in the fluorescent light.
“Lube,” he explains as he starts digging through his pockets. Producing a packet not long after.
Carlos raises an eyebrow. “Expecting some action?”
“You never know.” Oscar smiles as he places the lube on the table. “Now, why are we still dressed?”
Greedy fingers start tearing at Carlos’ clothes. Some buttons fly off his dress shirt, yet he couldn’t give less of a shit. What did some fabric matter to him? Once they have rid themselves of everything, Carlos hands find their way to Oscar’s supple thighs. Squeezing them as Oscar’s fingers roam every part of his skin. He enjoys the gentle touches, crudely interrupted by a firm tug of his hair. It’s as though Oscar knows exactly what makes him tick. His eyes roll to the back of his head as the other man repeats the action.
“Something to keep in mind,” Oscar chuckles, finally tearing the lube packet open.
“You should come lay on my lap. It’ll make things easier.”
Oscar presses the lube into his hand before making himself comfortable. His front resting on Carlos’ thighs and ass in the air. Presenting himself in such a sinful way, Carlos can’t help but let a groan slip past his lips. Watching with fascination as Oscar’s plump ass jiggles with even the slightest movement.
“God, Oscar, your ass is made to be bred. You have the perfect body to carry my children.”
Oscar cranes his neck to look at him. “Then why aren’t you getting on with it?”
“Impatient brat,” Carlos softly scolds him. Letting the lube coat his fingers and purposefully not warming it up. As he circles Oscar’s rim, the latter yelps.
“Cold, you fucker.” He turns so Carlos gets a proper view of his disapproving scowl.
“I told you, patience.”
Carlos lightly pushes against Oscar’s back, moving him back to his previous position. Keeping one of his hands there for the time being. His finger pushing against his entrance, slowly breaching it. The tight heat envelopes him, almost pulling him in. He wiggles around, stretching the walls enough so a second finger can join. Once he manages to move further down, he can feel it. Touching the bundle of nerves makes every hair on Oscar’s body stand up.
“Do that again.”
He presses it once again, before inserting another finger. His moves are deliberate as he slowly stretches the tight walls to accommodate his cock. The sound of his slick fingers moving in and out of Oscar is drowned out by the latter’s heavy breathing. His cock smearing precum all over Carlos’ thighs.
“I’m ready, I’m ready,” Oscar assures him, wiggling his hips to emphasise his point.
“Good.”
After pulling his fingers out, Oscar’s hole pulses around nothing. Eager to be filled up once more. Said man gets up from his previous position and places his knees on either side of Carlos’ thighs.
“I want to ride you.”
Carlos looks up at Oscar’s dishevelled appearance. Droplets of sweat adorn his brow, his cheeks flushed deep red and his hair is in complete disarray. “How could I say no to that?”
Oscar grabs Carlos’ cock and slowly guides it inside. Hole stretching to accommodate his girth. Carlos almost can’t believe the incredible tightness that surrounds him. How extraordinary the velvet walls squeezing his cock feel. He grabs Oscar by his slim waist, following the movements of his lithe body. His tits are still red and puffy from earlier, bouncing as Oscar moves up and down. Small sounds continually escape past his slightly parted lips. Carlos watches in awe.
“You look perfect,” Carlos whispers.
Oscar stops bouncing in favour of circling his hips. This constant warmth makes his dick twitch. “I’d look even more perfect filled up. Though, once I’m pregnant, I’ll get so big this won’t be possible anymore.”
Carlos moves one of his hands to caress Oscar’s flat stomach. “We’ll make it work. You’d think that when you start showing, I won’t accommodate you?”
“You’d have to. Seeing as you’re the one that put me in that position. My stomach swelling with our children.” Oscar moves his hand on top of Carlos’ “You’re in so deep, there’s no way I won’t get pregnant.”
“Indeed, it’s almost like I can feel myself inside.” Unsure if it’s all the pregnancy talk driving him crazy, but he’s convinced something moves against his hand.
“If you press down harder, I’m sure you’ll feel it even better.” Oscar pushes against his hand on his stomach. His fingers making intents on the skin. Further fuelling their shared illusion.
“Fuck, you’re right,” he moans as Oscar resumes bouncing on his cock. “Soon, there’ll be a baby in here. I can’t wait to watch your stomach swell a little every day.”
Oscar moans. It’s such a raw, desperate and beautiful sound. All of it Carlos’ doing. Yet, he still wants more. “And your breasts will grow heavy with milk. All for me to taste and enjoy.” He tugs at the puffy nipples and Oscar almost collapses on top of him.
“Just for you,” he mumbles. Puffs of air tickling the side of Carlos’ neck.
He takes the opportunity to suckle at the skin under Oscar’s jaw. Whose hands on Carlos’ shoulders are starting to claw at the skin. “Put me on my back. I’m sick of doing all the work for you.”
“As you wish.” With little effort, he places Oscar on the luxurious seats. His butt at the edge so Carlos can stand in between his legs. Normally he would tease. Take his cock and push the head in and out. He doesn’t even spare the idea a second thought, slamming all the way in. Having Oscar filled to the brim on his cock, the pitch of his moans increasing. Any semblance of self-control he had thrown out the window as he chases the sound. Slamming into Oscar with reckless abandon.
“With you being so loud, I think you want Mark to catch us. Begging for me to get you pregnant. What a shame, the driver he manages getting knocked up at the beginning of his career.” He spares Mark a sideways glance, who shows no signs of consciousness. Smirking as Oscar’s dick twitches at his words.
“It feels too good, need to have your babies,” Oscar pleads. Carlos’ powerful thrusts leaving him gasping and the chair creaking. He holds on to Oscar’s hips for leverage.
“Babies, hmm? Already thinking about giving this one a sibling?”
“I want a big family, so you better keep fucking me until I’m satisfied.” With his heels, he urges Carlos to come closer. Who now stands bent over, caging in Oscar completely.
The way in which Oscar sounds desperate while still exuding confidence is maddening. Carlos previously thought having someone submit to his every whim was the hottest thing possible. But the way Oscar keeps spurring him on, pushing and pulling, has him reassessing that notion.
Oscar pulls him down, connecting their lips as they feverishly chase the taste of each other. His hands fist the locks at the back of Carlos’ neck. He moves to talk directly in Oscar’s ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep breeding you until you beg me to stop. You’ll be so full of me constantly.” His rhythm has become sloppy, a tight heat coiling in his belly at the thought of Oscar showing off his baby bump.
“Yes, more,” Oscar gasps.
Carlos has yet to touch Oscar properly. His cock trapped in between their sweaty bodies. “Think you can cum without me touching you? Just from my words alone?” He whispers, hot breath fanning over Oscar’s skin.
“I’m so fucking close already, keep talking,” Oscar insists. Letting out an honest-to-god whine as Carlos thrusts himself deep inside. Slowly unravelling Oscar with every movement of his hips.
“When we first crashed into each other, did you expect you would end up craving to be bred by me?” Oscar attempts to look insulted, but can’t school his expression long enough for it to have any impact.
“No, did you?” Oscar sounds out of breath, though he’s not faring much better. They’re both desperately clawing at each other. Grabbing, pinching, scratching.
“If I knew you were so incredibly tight, I would have done something earlier.” Carlos never experienced something like this before. Oscar squeezes him, silently begging him to remain inside every time he moves back a little. The pleasant warmth in his abdomen increasing by the second. As Carlos continues to fuck his hole, his mouth can’t seem to stop moving. Spurred on by Oscar’s reaction and his own twisted enjoyment. “Your greedy hole is going to squeeze me for all I have. I’m going to cum so much you’re going to see the bump in your belly.”
Oscar’s entire body shakes as he spills all over himself. His chest heaving and eyes trained on Carlos. Truly a sight to behold. His stomach flutters when the corners of Oscar’s mouth curl upwards in a satisfied smile. “I can’t wait to make you a daddy.”
His orgasm rips through him, Oscar’s words pushing him over the edge. Filling up his womb to the brim. He’s pretty sure he blacked out for a second. “Fucking hell, I- wow,” is all he can muster. Slowly pulling his softening cock out. Watching as his cum leaks out of Oscar’s swollen hole. “Beautiful.”
Oscar scoffs, pushing him in the direction of the bathroom. “At least fetch me a towel before you start getting all sappy.”
It feels a little strange, him naked, sneaking past a sleeping Mark Webber to get to the bathroom. He shouldn’t even bother being quiet after they’ve not been holding back at all. Still, he can’t help it.
Oscar gratefully accepts the damp towel given to him. “Thank you. We should do this again. You know, just to be sure.”
He chuckles, settling down next to Oscar. Both now wisely occupying still clean seats. “Strange, I remember you saying you had to be pregnant,” he teases, bumping their shoulders together.
“That was in the heat of the moment.” Oscar shrugs. “We need to keep trying until we’re certain.”
“Of cour-”
“The next time you try, at least have the decency to tell me so I can take another plane. I’m getting too old for this shit,” Mark grumbles, staring them down as they scramble to cover themselves up.
Fuck.
+
Naturally, Oscar didn’t fall pregnant. Neither of them stupid enough to actually go through with something like that. Nothing more than promises made in the heat of the moment. Mark never looked Carlos in the eye again, which Oscar found to be incredibly amusing.
The two of them continued to ‘try’ until Oscar found himself a girlfriend. Ever the gentleman, he broke off their little arrangement. Cheating is bad, Carlos knows. It still stung, of course. He couldn’t bear the sight of Oscar cuddling up to her, so he distanced himself. Exchanging nothing more than polite smiles when they ran into each other in the paddock. The torture stopped once he retired. Without much fanfare, he never reached his dream of becoming a world champion after all.
Lando informed him of Oscar’s permanent exit from Formula 1. Almost half a decade after his own. The two had kept in touch. Both became McLaren ambassadors after their retirements. They were invited to Oscar’s send-off party. One befitting a champion. Lando pressured him to go. Which he foolishly did. He hadn’t changed much since he last saw Oscar. Keeping fit still remained one of his top priorities. The only thing he could pinpoint was the increasing number of grey streaks in his hair. And perhaps the deepening of his crow’s feet. After deeming that he had scrutinized himself in the mirror enough, he was off. Giving Lando a firm hug as the two met each other in the parking lot.
“Good to see you, mate. I honestly thought you wouldn’t come. Oscar’s been asking about you, you know?”
His heart skipped a beat. How pathetic, to find that after all these years he still remained this affected. “He has?” He feigned nonchalance.
“Yeah, though neither of you ever explained to me what was going on.”
Carlos almost stopped in his tracks, letting out a dry chuckle as Lando regarded him sceptically. “What do you mean?”
Lando huffed, throwing his hands in the air. “You can’t be serious, right? First you guys hated each other. Both of you were being so weird about each other to me. Then it became better. And suddenly when you went to Williams, you two became weird about each other again. Though in a different way,” Lando explained, notable frustration radiating off him.
The entrance of the building was but one step away. Not the time nor the place to explain everything to Lando. “If I promise to tell you after the event, will you drop it for the time being?”
“Fine.” Lando conceded. “I’m holding you to that.” He pokes his finger against Carlos’ sturdy chest. “Now, let’s get to this party.” And with that, Lando transforms into his easygoing self, wearing a pleasant smile on his face.
As they enter, the sound of a booming bass greets them. They’re still in the lobby and Carlos can feel the music reverberating through his body. The smell of alcohol lingers in the air. Why did he decide to come here again? As if sensing his doubt, Lando nudges him in the direction of the main event.
“Come on, old man. When do you get an opportunity to party like this again?” He holds the door open, making it impossible for Carlos to flee.
Through the mass of bodies inside, he finds Oscar without much trouble. He stands at the centre of attention, rightfully so. Hoisted up on the shoulders of his pit crew, nose scrunched up with laughter. Carlos can’t take his eyes off him. Time has treated him well. Much like Carlos, he hasn’t changed a lot. After all, he still has most of his thirties ahead of him. Nearly everyone outside of Formula 1 would consider him to be a young man. As would Carlos. The longer hair suits him, chestnut brown having grown darker with time.
“You want something to drink?”
Right, of course, Lando. “Yes, a beer, please.”
“Keep staring and people will start to notice,” Lando deadpans and pushes the beer into his hand with a little more force than necessary. “Stop sulking and enjoy it while you can.” He claps Carlos on his back.
“Sorry, I’m not being much fun right now,” he replies sheepishly. At least Lando didn’t leave him in the dust. They could still get rowdy together, as the kids liked to say. Or he assumed they did, he never had any. He couldn’t allow himself to fall into this miserable spiral once again. Taking a hefty swing of his beer, he pulls Lando towards the dance floor.
Lando almost makes him forget about Oscar. Almost, until he eventually bumps into the man as he finishes washing his hands in the fancy bathroom. Catching his eyes in the mirror as he steps out of a stall.
“I thought you’d at least come up to me.” Oscar steps close to him and reaches for the soap dispensary. Lathering up his hands while he holds Carlos’ gaze.
“You seem to be having enough fun without me.” He shrugs, padding his own hands dry with a bunch of paper towels.
“We shouldn’t be having this conversation here.” To that, Carlos can agree. The door creaks open as a drunken McLaren employee stumbles into the bathroom. Almost tripping over himself as he makes his way over to the stalls.
The air outside is chilly, made worse by the fact that Carlos didn’t bother to fetch his coat. Oscar somehow managed to produce a leather jacket out of nowhere, at least he won’t be cold. “I’m sorry about the way our, uhm- arrangement ended,” Oscar starts, voice uncertain as he nervously taps his fingers on his bicep. “I was so caught up with everything. Not an excuse, but still. I should have told you I was dating someone before suddenly breaking it off and showing up with a girl on my arm the next day.”
Carlos allows the silence to stretch on, sensing that Oscar has more to tell. “In truth, I was afraid. Because…” Oscar doesn’t finish the sentence. Their matching height makes it impossible to look away from the melancholy swimming in his eyes.
As much as he wants to push further and ask Oscar to elaborate, Carlos decides to let it be for now. It’s a day for celebration. If Oscar decides he feels ready to tell him, he will. “We can discuss it later. The past is in the past.” Whatever they had between them ended almost a decade ago. Besides, Oscar was so young. And it’s not like he reacted in a perfectly mature manner.
Relief floods Oscar’s face as Carlos hands him an out. Grabbing on to the opportunity to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I saw you come in here with Lando. You know the invitations said you could bring a partner, right?”
Oscar’s not-so-subtle fishing for information makes him chuckle. He gives him a straightforward answer. “I’m single. So, nobody for me to bring along.” The corners of Oscar’s lips twitch up briefly. “And what about your girlfriend? I haven’t seen her all night.”
“We broke up. She wasn’t you and couldn’t fill my deepest desires.” Whatever sadness befell him had disappeared in the blink of an eye. The Oscar who looked ready to repent for his sins is now replaced by a sight very familiar. With a cocky smile, he stepped right into Carlos’ space. “You opened my eyes to something, Carlos. And truth be told, I want to do it again. Crave it even.”
“You did make such a pretty sight. Desperate and begging for me to fill you up.” Carlos can’t help but indulge immediately. Already trapped in whatever spell Oscar has cast on him. How often had he dreamed about this exact scenario? How many nights did he spend replaying their encounters in an attempt to relive that high? Oscar’s slender fingers trail from his chest to his shoulders, halting his train of thought.
“I don’t recall ever begging.” Oscar bemuses, his hand now playing with the hair at the nape of Carlos’ neck. “I asked nicely, and you provided.”
Carlos doesn’t care about semantics. He grabs Oscar by the collar of his shirt and smashes their mouths together. A bruising kiss to start things off, with Oscar swiping his tongue over his plush lower lip. It gets heated quickly, both of them holding on to each other for dear life. He tastes the alcohol Oscar’s been nursing all night, as well as something so distinctly him. They start walking to the back of the building together, unable to get enough of one another.
As he backs Oscar into the wall, he takes a moment to take a proper look. His hair already dishevelled and his hardened nipples poking through the thin material of his shirt. “You’re like a dream come true,” he gushes. Not caring how earnest and vulnerable he sounds.
“Aww, you’ve dreamed about me?” Oscar coos, swirling a lock of Carlos’ hair around his finger. He always pays such loving attention to his hair.
“More than I’d like to admit.” Carlos leans closer, stopping barely a hair’s breadth away from Oscar.
“Are you going to make me work for it?” He grumbles, their lips brushing against one another as he speaks. “I thought you’d pull something like that, so I’ve already prepared.”
“Prepared?”
“You’ll find out.” Oscar plays it coy as he starts undoing Carlos’ belt. He follows the example, popping the button of Oscar’s pants open and shoving it down, together with his underwear. This was going to be a quick affair, no time for teasing.
“Fuck me against the wall. I know you want to. And you better actually get me pregnant this time. I’m retired, so we’ve got no time to waste.”
The thought of it has Carlos halfway to hardness already. Back when they were both drivers, Oscar becoming pregnant would have had devastating consequences. Now, it didn’t matter. No, it was just their little fantasy. He couldn’t start seriously considering it. He spins Oscar around and presses him up against the wall. Kicking his feet apart to create space for himself. His fingers trail from the end of Oscar’s spine all the way to his hole, spreading goosebumps in their wake. When he slides inside, the ease with which he’s able to enter surprises him. That’s what Oscar meant with being prepared already.
“Is this just for me?” Carlos can picture it, Oscar desperately moving his fingers inside of himself. Muffling any sound by biting down on his other hand as party guests wonder where he went off to. One foot on the toilet seat as he stretches himself wide enough. All for Carlos.
“Yes, now fuck me. Come on.” Oscar arches his back even more, his delicious ass on full display. “People will start to notice if we’re gone for too long.”
“And how terrible would that be? When they find out their world champion wants to be fucked and bred so desperately?”
Oscar shudders. “At least I won’t have to see most of them again.”
Carlos can’t help but slide three fingers inside, just to test the waters. When he deems Oscar stretched enough, he starts lining himself up. Feeding his cock to Oscar’s wet hole. Both of them moaning once he’s fully inside. The tight, velvety walls feel like coming home.
“Can’t believe that after all these years, you’re still so incredibly tight.” With one hand he grabs Oscar’s hips as he starts a slow rhythm. The other holding on to his shoulder. He leans in, backing Oscar into the wall almost completely. Needing to immerse himself in the body heat coming off the younger man, the smell wafting from his skin.
“Faster, come on.” Carlos sensed no urgency in his voice, but heeded his demands nonetheless. Slamming himself inside, watching Oscar’s ass jiggle every time their skin made contact. Oscar claws at the wall, using the concrete to hold on.
“When I fill you up, I want you to try and keep all of my cum inside. Can you do that for me?” He wanted Oscar to walk around the party with the constant reminder of what they had done. What he could have if they kept in contact.
Oscar throws his head back, offering a sly smile. “I brought my butt plug for the occasion.”
Their grunting fills the silence as Carlos takes it in. “You were that sure that I’d come crawling back to you?” He continues his unrelenting pace, reaching around to paw at Oscar’s neglected member.
“Let’s be real,” Oscar is barely able to get the words out. His voice trembles with every syllable. “You don’t know anybody as depraved as me. We need each other.”
He’s right, the second Carlos’ eyes landed on Oscar, it was over. Any resolve crumbled as he yearned for his touch. “Yes,” he breathes out.
“So, we better make sure at the next McLaren party I can walk around with a baby bump instead of a butt plug.”
“Please, I want to.” Any notion that it’s all pretend gets thrown right out the window as his voice cracks. It stopped being pretend for him years ago. Watching Oscar from the sidelines and imagining what could have been. He can’t let his mind stray too far, having the subject of his desires take his cock so well requires his full attention.
“You sound good when you beg. Don’t stop.”
Carlos indulges Oscar, as well as allowing the mask to slip. Pleading for things he wishes would be real outside of their heated promises. “I want nobody but you to carry our children. Get access to you everyday to watch your stomach and tits grow bigger. Begging you to let me fuck you anywhere around our house. Please, I need this to become real.”
“Carlos.” There is an odd cadence to Oscar’s voice as he speaks his name. His mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The visions of their imagined future swimming through his head while his body chases an incredible high. The bruising grip he has on Oscar’s hip tightens.
“Please,” the word leaves his mouth again, sounding even more pathetic than before.
“Carlos!” This time, Oscar shouts his name as he spills all over Carlos’ hand. He himself is wound tight, ready to snap at any moment. Oscar’s hole fluttering around him.
“Do it. Fill up my womb and make me yours.”
Oscar tells him exactly what he needs to hear. He emits a sound he didn’t know he was capable of making. Fireworks explode behind his eyes as he cums. As he slowly comes down from his high, he realises what he’s done. Cut himself open and leave his true emotions to bleed out. Whatever they had, they never labelled it as anything serious. His heartbeat picks up as embarrassment burns through him. Detaching himself from Oscar, unsure of what to do with himself.
Oscar plugging himself up would normally make his stomach flutter. He’d say something suggestive and make the other man snort. Now, he wordlessly accepts the wet wipes Oscar hands him to clean himself off. Suddenly he finds himself very busy zipping up his pants.
“You’re serious, aren’t you? About all this stuff.” There’s not a hint of judgement in Oscar’s voice. He gently nudges Carlos to look up at him. Perhaps the time has come for Carlos to take a leap.
“I am. It was never just pretend for me. I want us to live together, spend our retirement with each other. I want to have children. With you.” He takes both of Oscar’s hands in his own. Holding his breath in anticipation of an answer.
Oscar offers him a gentle smile. “Do you want to be in a relationship with me?”
“If you’ll have me.” His heart thunders in his chest, still awaiting some kind of confirmation. Oscar tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, leaning in to connect their lips. It has to be the most gentle kiss they shared. Full of longing and promises of more to come.
“Of course.” They kiss again. Carlos can’t help it, being drawn in by the unstoppable force that is Oscar. They truly are magnets unable to get away from each other. Any remaining tension leaves his shoulders as Oscar winds his arms around him.
As they part for air, they bring their foreheads together. “Let’s go back to the party, hmm? We have the rest of our lives to continue.”
Oscar makes some noise of protest but follows him back inside nonetheless. As he watches the younger man, he almost can’t believe how different his outlook on his future is from just a couple of hours ago. Now that he knows whom it will include, it starts looking much brighter.