Work Text:
The world was changing every single day. For better or for worse, who could say?
Not everyone was as lucky as Lando Norris, or as talented, so it wasn’t in the world’s interest to say that things were really starting to look up– but oh. For Lando, things were.
A World Championship. A World Championship trophy engraved with his name. Money, good friends and good people surrounding him, a confidence unshaken throughout the season, and a brand that was entirely his own. Lando felt on top of the world. His hard work has finally paid off.
But there was one thing he wanted, but knew he wasn’t allowed.
It wasn’t that long ago the FIA finally allowed integrated teams of predator and prey hybrids, and McLaren was one of the first teams to jump at the opportunity by signing bunny-hybrid Oscar Piastri to join their own snake-hybrid golden boy Lando Norris.
This change was a good one, Lando would agree. Hell, he’d declare it publicly in front of entire press rooms– which he did! There was no shame in having a prey teammate, or well, being a prey-species hybrid. Lando couldn’t speak for being one, of course, but he could sympathize.
He might be a snake hybrid, but he wasn’t a black mamba or any big venomous viper type. He wasn’t even a small venomous type either. Lando was so totally harmless it was almost laughable when he was made out to be the villain of Oscar’s story.
If only his fans knew he didn’t want to put their beloved bunny into the wall, car wrecked with a DNF. There was no killer instinct to coil around him, sink his teeth deep into Oscar’s rosy cheeks, and eat him alive.
No, Lando didn’t want to kill Oscar. He didn’t have the urge to.
His instincts did however want him to eat Oscar out.
For bunny boys were extremely good-smelling. Sweet. Flowery. Feminine in a way that had caught the attention of Lando’s heightened sense-of-smell too many times to count.
It was those damned pheromones that finally did him in, standing there under the sun in Barcelona. They’d been wearing him out all week, breaking down the walls Lando’s mind had built around those predatory instincts to keep them inside. But gosh, those post-drive pheromones.
It wasn’t even hot, not really. But any drive around the track in a Formula One car will have you sweating bullets by the time you take off your helmet. That’s why Lando sticks out his tongue at Oscar, because he’s sweaty and panting exaggeratingly, but he also wants to tease the other boy.
His time was better, and Oscar always looks especially cute when he takes off his balaclava and not only is his hair rumpled, but his ears look it too. All squished onto his head like a helmet in his helmet.
Lando didn’t have anything outwardly special about him, being a snake. His fangs existed, sure. And his tongue was forked. But none of that was visible unless he was smiling or talking. If you saw Lando on a regular basis, you might even catch him shedding.
Some people thought it was gross, and it probably was to people who didn’t grow up doing it. But Lando had decided not too long ago to stop caring what other people thought, and he’s been living happily since.
That’s why he’s unafraid to be so snake-like around Oscar. Subtly. He’s working up to his true goal, which really is to either eat him out, or wrap himself around his teammate’s dick.
So when he sees Oscar give him an exasperated look after Lando’s announced the faster of the two, Lando feels no shame sticking out his forked tongue to tease him. But Oscar is sweaty. And unfortunately (or fortunately, Lando hasn’t decided) isn’t wearing any kind of scent-blockers some species do.
Oscar only rolls his eyes and looks back towards the engineers still speaking to them, but Lando is struck dumb with his tongue buzzing in his mouth with Oscar’s scent. It tingles, and he’s suddenly salivating more than normal. It's all a bit too much.
“Lando, did you have any oversteer issues on turns 5 or 6?”
The smell of Oscar is suffocating in his mouth. Which is such a non-issue except he’s not actually suffocating around Oscar physically. There is still several feet of space between them. It’s bothering Lando so much that there isn’t skin he’s attached to orally, he’s not paying attention to anything but the way his nerves buzz at the realization.
“Lando?”
Startled, a hiss slips past his lips. Suddenly Lando is hyper aware of all the pointed eyes looking at him. Including Oscar’s.
“Yessss?” he questions the room.
He doesn’t mean to do it. He really can’t help the way his tongue curls out as he says it.
The eyes watching him widen a bit in shock, or pinch a bit in question. Eyebrows raise or draw together, but everyone continues to watch him. Lando’s not looking at him now, but he’s noticed Oscar’s tensed up body out the corner of his eye.
Snake speech isn’t bad, but it seems like it right now.
He’s been trying to be more himself, in the snake-way, but it feels like a lot right now so publicly. Maybe because it’s so snake-like, and this is a professional setting where the animalistic sides of everyone working are kept perfectly contained away and Lando, who has never been very snake-like before, just hissed and lisped out his words.
“Um…the car. Were there any oversteer issues? On the turns?”
Swallowing, Lando responds. “Oh, no, not really. But on turn sssixx–”
Clamping one hand over his mouth, Lando holds the other up in a silent apology and points towards the exit. “Exxcussse me– fuck. Sssorry– Ahem, sorry. Fellas, one moment.”
What the fuck was happening. He shouldn’t have apologized.
If anything, all his primal instincts slithering wildly beneath his skin were urging him to go back inside and make all of them regret looking at him like that. Like being a snake was so unusual, so surprising. They all knew that that’s what he was.
Max Verstappen could growl at reporters or swipe at other drivers with his claws out all he wanted, but the moment Lando slipped a few hisses into his sentences, he had Oscar frozen to his spot.
Oscar.
It was probably Oscar’s fault, involuntarily.
Lando stood still as he thought about it. The prey’s pheromones had struck his tongue, and just like it would if it had been a snake-hybrid girl, he wanted to follow it. His body told him it meant Oscar was willing to mate.
God, this is why scent-blockers are a thing. Why they’re FIA approved and mandated!
“You shed when you’re stressed.”
Lando whirled around at the voice. Void of any major emotion, but still soft, it asked:
“Why are you stressed? You did really well out there today.”
There was concern in Oscar’s eyes, even if his voice didn’t carry it. If Lando was feeling normal it probably would’ve made him happy to be the subject of Oscar’s worry, because it meant he cared. But not now, not with his mind reeling the way it is.
Back straight, prepared to strike in defense, he stares Oscar down. You’d imagine that with snakes being one of the natural predators of rabbits, Oscar would have some natural inclination to back down and run away. Especially now, especially on the track.
At least, that’s what Lando had prayed for, but no god answered that call.
For a bunny, Oscar was very much a man. Taller than Lando, as quick and clever as Lando. Smarter, if we were being honest. And not sensitive or emotional– no, Oscar was level-headed and a real winner. There were never any moments where Lando thought this prey didn’t deserve to be on the same team as him, or the one winning grand prix trophies beside him. Never.
Lando knew Oscar was good, and deserving.
But Lando also knew Oscar should be afraid of him. Somewhere deep inside him, an instinct should be telling him to turn heel and hop away. Yet, he’s still several feet away, not backing down, but waiting for Lando to tell him he’s ok.
“I’m not shedding. My body is completely covered right now in this tracksuit.”
“The back of your neck, a bit behind your right ear.” Oscar steps a bit closer, and Lando tries to make himself taller but can’t. There’s no more height to spare. “Did you know when the light hits certain parts of your skin just right, I can make out your scales. They’re pretty transparent, but they’re there.”
“Oh really? What color are they?” Lando itches down the side of his neck, nails catching on a bit of snake skin beginning to curl over his collar. Damn it.
“Green. Almost the same color as your helmet in certain lightings.”
Lando hums, flicking the skin from his hand, letting it fall to the concrete. “You got me. Green snake. Opheodrys aestivus.”
Oscar hummed too. It was really hard to read his face, or his body language. Both were quite still, and his ears gave nothing away as they dropped atop his head. That fluffy tail of his, that Lando seldom ever saw, was squished beneath his tracksuit.
Curious, Lando blurts out, “Is that why you’re not scared of me? Because I’m an insectivore?”
The question works at giving him some reaction as Oscar’s eyes widen and his lips part just the tiniest bit. He scrunches his brows and nose in confusion, just like bunnies are known to do, and asks, “What?”
“When we met for the first time… you were… unafraid.”
“Yeah, so?”
Well now he’s looking at Lando like he’s an idiot, which he probably is. A breeze picks up and suddenly those sweet bunny pheromones are carrying back into Lando’s face. The older stumbles back, but Oscar only steps forward after him.
“Lando?”
He composes himself. “Um, yeah. Sorry, I was just– It wasn’t what I expected. Having a bunny hybrid teammate who had no reaction at all to me being a snake. After all these years you’ve never been intimidated once.”
Oscar smirks a bit, quirking a brow. It’s a teasing look Lando is familiar with. If they were standing closer together Oscar would be nudging their shoulders together in good fun.
“Why would I be?” he teases.
“Because I want to taste you.”
They both seem to freeze at the same time.
Shit. He wasn’t meant to say that.
Like a predator watching from a distance in wait. Every muscle on Oscar’s body is being monitored closely, for any slight movement the younger guy will make. Backwards, to flee. Forward, to fight. Or if he stays put, Lando thinks they’d both be frozen in a stand-off all night.
The ball is in Oscar’s court, he realizes.
This bunny boy can make the decision on whether or not Lando’s a predator worth taking seriously. If he wants to laugh at him, Lando will roll with it. Bitterly, most likely. Yet, it’d probably be for the best at the end of the day– something the two could easily move past if Lando laughs now and makes it a bit of “wanting to see the look on Oscar’s face.”
Or, Lando could step forward. Slow, still in wait. Like a predator rearing to pounce on its prey.
It’s what his instincts want him to do. They’re singing a sweet reprise in his head about the possible flavor of Oscar on his tongue. All the scents of a meadow surround him, and he looks on.
A soft pink is spreading across the tops of Oscar’s cheeks, right beneath his widened eyes. It’s really so cute it makes Lando want to pinch them. Or bite them. He can’t ignore the aching of his fangs right now as they protest the lack of flesh to press into.
Lando steps forward. Importantly, Oscar doesn’t step away. He’s still a statue baking under the Barcelona sun. They’re still two drivers on a racetrack. They’re still predator and prey watching each other, hackles raised.
Oscar’s ears perk up a bit at Lando’s movement. It doesn’t go unmissed, it can’t. Not when they’re watching each other so intensely like this.
Moving just the tiniest bit closer again, Oscar’s nose twitches in a way Lando can’t read. A breath and Oscar’s asking him, “Taste?”
Fuck it.
“I want to know if you taste as good as you smell.”
He watches as Oscar gives him a full-body shiver. The blush deepens to red and Lando wonders why his own blood isn’t rushing to paint his cheeks.
“What?!” It comes out as a squeak. Voice high-pitched and breathless. Like a prey’s is meant to. There’s a tightening in his pants and he realizes just where the blood has flowed instead.
“I can smell you on my tongue, Oscar.” He steps forward again and this time, Oscar has the sensibility to put himself a little bit back. “You smell deliciousss…”
Oscar’s fingers curl at his sides before he brings a hand up to pull at his collar. He must feel trapped like this, even with all of the open space around them.
That voice in Lando’s mind tells him he can’t let that happen. If his prey gets away it’s all for nothing. He’s lost. He’s a loser. He’s a really bad snake.
“Is it true, Ossscaa…?” He lets his tongue flick out, taunting. “Are bunny boysss as sssweet as they sssmell?”
He has him at arm's length, but he doesn’t lunge. No. Oscar’s peering down at him just slightly with squinted eyes now. The younger driver is still tense, but he’s curious. Lando knows this because he hasn’t moved away again.
Lando brings a hand up to curl at Oscar’s bicep, and watches Oscar as he tracks the movement. Smiling to himself as he slides his hand down to his elbow and squeezes. But it’s just suit beneath his fingertips and he almost hisses at the offending barrier.
It’s annoying really, here’s this mandated suit that protects you and it’s great! It really is. But it’s a thick and hardy material and Lando knows he couldn’t tear it off. A fang would get stuck, the seams wouldn’t budge. Just disastrous, really. So he moves his hand over Oscar’s chest and pulls at the zipper by his neck. The motion of undressing his prey is nothing but urges he’s listening to because he has nothing better to do. Not when Oscar is being so pliant in his hands. So prey-like.
“Lando. What are you doing?” Oscar’s still pink, but he’s holding Lando’s elbow with so much force it makes Lando flush too. Fuck. He just remembered how much bigger Oscar is. His arms, his thighs, his chest, and of course his height.
Lando wouldn’t mind if the roles were reversed, but he’s the predator, and all he wants is to be on top of Oscar. The younger under his spell, trapped. Charmed.
He can think of a few ways he can dominate while still appreciating Oscar’s size.
“I can’t taste you when you’re hiding.” He’s pouting. It’s the sight of Lando so obviously frustrated and lost in this snake-like mindset that has Oscar feeling a bit weak. It’s cute, not threatening.
When you realize the snake doesn’t want to wrap around your neck, but your biceps, a lot of the initial fear fades away.
“Not here. Let’s uh, let’s go back to the hotel.”
Lando takes it for what it is: an invitation. With a smirk, Lando sticks that forked tongue out and rumbles, looping his arm with Oscar’s. He’s about as physically close as possible the entire time they make their way to the luxury tower their rooms are in. Glued together, stuck like magnets, two peas-in-a-pod, just good ‘ol teammates. “Good friends” as historians would say.
Oscar’s warm, and willing. Lando’s cold-blooded body is enjoying itself pressed tight to Oscar’s side.
They pass through a properly decorated lobby and its many watchful eyes of guests and staff. They’re probably all stumped wondering what two grown men are doing waltzing in wearing racesuits, arm-in-arm, but all Lando can seem to care about isn’t public perception, but whether Oscar would prefer to fuck him on the bed or on the wall.
That is if Oscar even wants to fuck him. Lando would prefer that, but for Oscar he won’t be picky. He spends the entire elevator trip up to their floor thinking about all the ways he could have him.
“You’re shedding again.”
And shit, he is. Lando scratches the bit of his cheek where he feels the skin has started to peel.
“I’m just itching out of my skin to have you.”
Oscar gives a dry laugh, but the color on his face hasn’t gone away since Lando first mentioned tasting him. “Have me how?”
“I think to start, I have you in my mouth. I’ve been told my tongue game is mega,” Lando eyes Oscar openly as he speaks, watching as the words land and conjure images in his head. “But you can’t come yet, no, that just wouldn’t be fair. I need my fill too, y’know?”
The younger gulps, and Lando’s predatory gaze follows the movement. He almost hisses at the bob of the other’s adam's apple, but bites his tongue. His gums really were starting to ache, the fangs yearning to pierce some soft, sweetened skin.
“You want me to fuck you?” The question comes out with a small squeak, and it’s maybe possibly the cutest thing Lando has ever heard. Without thinking, he steps closer into Oscar’s personal space, squeezing his shoulder and his bicep with a coo.
“Awww, you’re blushing Ossscaaa…” Lando giggles like he only ever does when the cameras aren’t rolling. “Of course! Unless you want me to fuck you?”
Oscar gulped again before shaking his head with quick jerks. The action was so endearing that if Lando was a cat-hybrid, he surely would have purred.
“I don’t have lube. Or a condom.” Oscar stated, right as the elevator doors opened to reveal the luxury suite that was that McLaren champion privilege he had indulged in. The space was nice and open, and there were plenty of good fucking spots Lando was willing to defile. With a smirk, he turned back towards his special guest. “Don’t worry, I get pretty slick,” he teased. “And I’m clean, so…”
“Me too.”
If Oscar even gave an inch of flirting back to Lando’s mile, the snake-boy would have swooned so easily in embarrassment his skin would unravel him whole. It was so easy to dish out the lust, but whenever Oscar looked at him so endearingly Lando would turn away. Whatever confidence he’d gained, that Oscar’s scent gave him, he was going to ride it for as long as he could. Preferably, till dawn.
“Sssssweet.” Lando pushed Oscar further into the room before ordering him to take off his suit. He complied so easily it satisfied the predator in Lando. Eagerly, Lando removed his own suit. Despite the sweat, Oscar was beautiful standing there before him in only his boxers and socks. He’d tanned a bit during the break, but was still paler than Lando, and his thighs and shoulders seemed even broader than before.
Lando licked his lips, not realizing Oscar was watching the action.
“You mentioned your tongue?” Those arched brows were teasing his earlier forwardness, but Lando really couldn’t give less shits. Instead, he pounced.
Oscar sprawled on the bed underneath Lando, pinned to the fitted sheets and head flush against plush pillows. God, he looked like a fantasy. The kind of wet dream that haunts your wank sessions for all of eternity.
That flush was delectable.
“Take your socks off, or else nothing is happening here.” Oscar rolled his eyes, but the second Lando rolled off to his side he stripped and made himself match with the other. Underwear clad, he laid back down and found his eyes level with Lando’s. There was a familiar mischievous glint in them, but raw hunger too. The older watched as Oscar’s nipples hardened, and Lando snaked his way to meet them.
With a groan, Oscar met the tickle against his skin with a shudder. Barely even articulating the feeling, it came and went in wisps. He almost wanted to fight the other off him to adjust and ground himself. It was the weirdest sensation his chest had ever felt, and he felt himself bulge up in response.
Like he could sense it without seeing it, Lando brought his hand between them and palmed Oscar’s length, feeling it over the cotton. They hadn’t even kissed yet and Lando was already rearing up for third base. That just wouldn’t do.
All the strength training Oscar had done over the break came in handy as he swiftly unlatched the snake-boy from his skin, taking that teasing tongue with him, and pulled them both up to sit. “I want you, Lando. I’ve wanted you.”
Lando scoffed, probably in annoyance at being halted, but there was adoration and sweetness set into his features too. “So take me,” he countered.
It was good enough for Oscar as he leaned in to the other, letting his nails dig into tan skin as his tongue pushed easily into Lando’s willing mouth. The other hissed and pulled away, stunned. “Your tongue is so rough?”
Oscar laughed, fisting one hand into Lando’s unkept curls. “Bunnies aren’t soft everywhere,” he said with an innocent smile before connecting their lips together again. Pointedly, very un-innocently. A thrust brought their hips together and Lando could feel the difference in size between them. “There too, for example,” he whispered in the dirty air between their lips.
Other noises of moans and grunts-- the wet slide of spit and smacking lips-- filled the room. Lando couldn’t think, and didn’t want to think. It was still winter break, he was going to relax. Go brainless.
“I need to suck your dick.”
The prey beneath his touch shivered, but the push and pull of Oscar’s hands in his hair moved Lando from his lips and down. Down past his chest, down past hips, and right between those muscular thighs he loved to ogle. Lando couldn’t decide whether or not he liked being man-handled by the weaker species, but he was closer now to the true target of his hunt as his mouth leveled with the bulge in Oscar’s boxers.
Letting his limbs slither down the bedside, when Lando’s knees hit the ground he didn’t wince but felt Oscar stiffen. “Are you ok?” he questioned a bit frantically, trying to haul Lando back up to the bed by his elbows.
“I will be when you take these off.” With a flick to what he assumed was the tip of Oscar’s dick, Oscar seemed to just breathe for a moment before shimmying his hips to pull his boxers off. Thrown somewhere off to the side, neither would worry too much about cleanliness until sunrise.
At the sight of him– the veins, the length, the small bead of precum at the tip– Lando gulped. Sucking dick was not his best talent when compared to the many other cards stuck up his sleeve. Especially because he hadn’t done it as often as he dreamed. Life as a celebrity, and all.
But having caught Oscar like this with his back arching off the bed so alluringly, Lando’s only dream is to please.
They say once a bunny-hybrid starts, they don’t stop. Due to Lando’s natural oil secreting biology, he believes he could be well prepared for a long night with Oscar in his sheets.
He brought his fingers up, meeting Oscar’s length, and let a bit of that oil release. It wasn’t sweat, contrary to what Oscar might think, but Lando wasn’t going to possibly ruin the moment by dropping some snake-hybrid fun facts just to save some face.
The skin was soft, yet hard beneath, and the slide of his palms was made so much easier because of his natural talents. It wouldn’t take much of his mouth to fully undo Oscar if the rapid twitching in his nose and brow was anything to go by. Stroking him alone was doing wonders for Lando’s spank bank.
Oscar was steeling himself from moving or doing anything more to meet Lando’s touch, letting him lead. His willpower was enduring, as well as it was hot. The small convulsions, the labored breath. A true prey hybrid, clutched in the predator’s claws. The only problem was the lack of sounds he was making, but Lando knew how to fix that.
So suddenly did Oscar groan out in surprised pleasure as Lando’s lips made contact with his cock. He licked at the head, letting his feather-light tongue wrap around the length, swirling at the tip. Sliding into the slit. Working his hands and mouth in unison, he pumped and licked until it drove Oscar mad.
“Lando,” Oscar panted, eyes screwed shut at the amounting pleasure, “I’m gonna come– fuck, Lan–”
The hold on his hair, the squeeze of Oscar’s thighs on either side of him had Lando reeling for more. For the release. Relaxing his mouth, Lando let his jaw unhinge so he could make space for his prey’s size.
Oscar wasn’t a major talker throughout the whole thing, but at this his eyes flew open and he just-about screamed. Instead a moan, a pitch higher than Lando would’ve thought possible, strung out as he began his release. Lando didn’t stop moving his tongue, he couldn’t. He’d milk out every last drop and savor the sweet taste.
Bunny-boys did taste delicious, even if you weren’t a carnivore.
Lando hummed cheerily, cleaning his own lips and giving Oscar’s cock one last lick before backing off. Triumphant, he met the other’s gaze.
Oh, fuck.
It was true what they said about bunny-hybrids. Oscar was staring at him, unblinking, with a glazed expression across his face. Lando brought a hand to cup his cheek, leaving a light slap that did nothing but make Oscar grab his wrist. The heat beneath his skin unfurled onto Lando.
“Osssscaa?” The heat cloyed around him. He could smell it in the air. “What’ssss up?”
The younger was acting strange, but Lando was still hard so whatever thoughts were milling around Oscar’s head, he hoped they were horny.
“Dude, you’re really–” With an abrupt cut-off, Oscar was clinging to Lando, sniffing feverishly at his neck. The action caused Lando to grunt, but he stiffened when he felt Oscar harden again against him.
The sniffing turned into nuzzling, and it made Lando’s skin stand up on his neck and arms. It was sweet and somewhat possessive. He imagined if by the end of tonight he’d smell so much like Oscar there’d be nothing else on his skin to smell. It was a very nice thing to imagine while sat clasped in the younger’s arms, trapped. If this went on for very much longer, he’d have to release some secretions so he could slither away.
Wait.
Oscar froze against him, hands holding him a bit tighter on his lap. In a long inhale he leaned back, searching. “Lando?”
“That’s me.”
Meeting Lando’s smirk with disdain, he sniffed again into the air before looking down. In the space where skin met skin. “I’m ready Oscar, do your worst.”
And he was– all slick and leaking. Thank god for bunny stamina because it only took the span of Oscar flipping them to put Lando on his back for him to harden again. With each breath that scent of flowery fields and beautiful spring ripened in the air, filling Lando’s lungs. He knew his lover was flush with some kind of heat.
Lando lifted his hips to meet Oscar’s angled head, feeling the size of it against his hole. The stretch would burn, but not so badly as if he was anything else but part snake. Flexibility and accommodating size was literally what they were known for.
“Inssside, Ossscaa.” Lando was needy, gripping onto the expanse of bare skin above him. Leaving marks on Oscar’s broad shoulders, down his back, on his ass– Lando tried to haul the man up closer. When finally the broad tip of his cock nudged against his hole, Lando let out a pleased sigh, excited at the simple touch alone.
Oscar guided himself inside, and in only a couple of thrusts he was fully enveloped inside. Each inch had moans and expletives tumbling from Lando’s lips. He was enamored at the feeling, and enamored by how Oscar looked. Panting above him, gentle yet strong. He was just as needy as Lando but he moved smoothly and began thrusting.
Oscar leaned down, nuzzling the side of Lando’s face and down his neck. It gave Lando a great view of his lover’s backside, but it wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was kisses, and licks. A bite or two, at least.
Lando turned his face to the side, bringing his neck with him. Disoriented, Oscar looked up and slowed the pace he’d set in his hips. The sleepy eyes and disgruntled face he pulled was too cute, Lando cooed before swooping in to slide his tongue inside Oscar’s agape mouth. He was immediately met with slick heat as Oscar closed down to suck and bite at Lando’s lips, tasting him. And on him, Oscar tasted himself.
The thought had Lando close, even untouched.
“Fuck, wait. I don’t want to finish like this.” Oscar still hadn’t gone back to the hard, fast-paced thrusts he started with, making it easy for Lando to simply flip them around. His foot caught in the sheet, and Oscar’s hair got ruffled and stood up in odd places. They surely looked the part of the hookup now.
Oscar was beautifully playing the part of entrapped prey, twitching under Lando’s attention. The older tracked the movement of his Adam's apple, his chest’s rise and fall, and his hands tightening in the bed sheets. Beneath where Lando’s palms splayed across his abdomen, the muscles flexed and stood pronounced against the sweat steadily building.
Every twitch of the dick inside him, and the contact of skin all around him, was driving him wild. Oscar bucked up and up into the warm slickness above him, losing the last shred of control over himself for the second time this night. He watched Lando move above him, riding him to sweet completion.
The older snaked his hands up to Oscar’s neck, hands failing to fully wrap around its thickness, but applying a small squeeze of pressure anyways. Like this, he felt the bunny boy’s poor heartbeat at the pulse point as it hammered rapidly from his chest. Something deeply animalistic in Lando satisfied.
Oscar took his hands from the bed and to Lando’s hips, handling him up and down on his dick. With a gasp Lando brought their lips together one final time. Moans flitted in between their lips, and the sound and taste of everything clouded Lando’s mind. It was sensory overload to be so filled, and so deeply pleased with his catch, he couldn’t help the sudden overtake of every instinct.
He didn’t feel it as his fangs extracted, lengthening like that of a vampire’s would as it readied for the kill. Except Lando wasn’t thirsty for blood, or hungry for rabbit. No, all Lando lusted for was the sure mark, deeply embedded into Oscar’s skin, showing that he was caught. That he was his.
The sharp bone cut at Oscar’s lips, making the younger wince in pain. He was lost in his passions though, because he barely cared as the blood spilled onto his chin and down his neck. Lando could lick it up later– or use a rag like a sensible man. Instead, Lando brought his mouth down lower to where Oscar’s scent was richest in its potency.
He licked the spot right as he found it, ticking Oscar’s neck which made the other twist beneath him, confused. “Shhhh,” Lando hissed like a purr, bringing his hands up to Oscar’s damp hair, holding it tightly to keep his prey in place. “Like thisss, baby.”
It was too much. The moment teeth pierced flesh, and the blood leaked free– its scent poignant within. Fuck. It was all Lando could think.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Fuuuuuu–” Oscar groaned out with one last thrust that sent him over the edge. Lando joined him with a hiss that tumbled itself off into a cry as he came untouched onto Oscar’s stomach.
Licking tentatively, slow-enough to drive Oscar mad, Lando cleaned at his mark while they both came down from their sex-driven high. The younger used Lando’s curls to haul the damned snake up from his neck to stare him down.
“What?”
“You’re so annoying. Why’d you bite me?”
“You smelt too good. Had to taste you.”
Oscar scoffed, but let Lando fall back into the crook of his neck to continue his ministrations.
Lando was savoring the warmth of another body around him, and even more so when Oscar pulled the sheets to cover them. Bundled up all cozy and snug, Lando let his tongue retract to its normal size, but let himself lay lazily against Oscar’s neck still. McLaren would have to hire a thousand more hands to be able to pry Lando off his teammate now.
“Bath together?”
Oscar peered down at him with his signature Oscar-Piastri blank stare, ears flat and drooped around him.
The two blinked at each other before Oscar huffed and flipped the sheet off them, bombarding Lando’s cold-blooded body with the room’s natural chill.
“Give a guy a little warning next time, mate!” He just-aboud hissed out.
Oscar only gave him a lopsided grin before extracting himself from the snake-boy’s cling, walking naked to the bathroom just off the bedroom. As he strutted away from the bed, Lando couldn’t help but check him out, catching sight of the bunny tail he completely forgot existed.
A few ideas on how to spend their bath popped into his head at the sight.