adhorstd
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Lando went silent, looking at anything but Oscar. He didn’t know what to do, he wanted to ease up the atmosphere between them, but nothing appropriate came to his mind. There was a gulp in his throat, ready to make him cry and look stupid in front of his always calm and collected teammate.
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“Hmm, you’re interesting, Piastri,” Max hums, still so fucking close, “I’ll be watching you.”
Oscar’s heart is beating ungodly fast, but it hurts in a good way, “I like an audience, keep your eyes on me, Verstappen. Won’t disappoint.”
The hand on his neck tightens its grip, and Max leans in close enough that Oscar can feel how his mouth moves as he speaks, “You won’t, I won’t let you.”
(Oscar likes to push until he gets hurt. Max likes to hurt until he gets pushed away. It's a match made in hell.)
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22 Jun 2025