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Logan’s pretty sure if he tried enough, he could easily convince a few people that two plus two could totally equal five.
Logan heard Alex groan as Daniel came with another round of shots on a board, tequila with salt and lemon chasers. Logan knows party culture is crucial to America, especially within college fraternities (no, Logan was not a part of one, Daniel, please stop), but Europe was crazy in comparison. Logan’s still surprised that Daniel’s able to even hold himself up at this point, what with the ever growing tab in his name that seemed to be closer to reaching four figures with the amount of drinks Daniel is buying for himself, Logan, and Alex and the entire club.
Logan curses ever agreeing to this. He really should’ve listened to Oscar who insisted Daniel wasn’t someone you should party with unless you wanted to end up in a whole other country.
(“What the fuck do you mean you’re on the coast of France?” Zak hissed into his phone, Lando on the other side. Lando groaned and Zak’s pretty sure he heard waves crashing. “I’m pretty sure I was with Daniel-”
“In Monaco,” Zak interrupted, tears in his eyes.
“Uhm, yes, but like, I think we got into a party bus a few hours in?”)
Logan licks the salt off his hand- wait. That’s. Oh good grief.
He just licked salt off Daniel’s hand. He’s in distress; complete and total distress.
Daniel cackles into his ear, where Logan notes he’s leaning into Daniel’s side, and that’s how he accidentally licked the salt off the wrong hand. Logan’s always blamed his drunk decisions on the interesting inability to see he acquires whenever he’s in a club. So. Not his fault.
“Sorry dude,” Logan slurs, and Daniel just shakes his head, smile on his face. “No worries, mate. Don’t I taste delicious?” The steadiness in Daniel’s voice makes Logan want to throw up. He’s never going to recover from this. Daniel was the wrong hand he wanted to lick, thank you very much.
Alex, who was half laying on the bar, lifts his head up and looks directly at Logan, voice unwavering. “Don’t go cheating on your boyfriend, Logan.” Daniel widens his eyes, and he’s finally starting to stutter. “Oh fuck, shit, I’m so sorry Logan.”
Logan’s going to hate the people in this club if they snap a photo of him crying. “Alex,” he turns to glare at said man, but he’s met with the sight of Alex doing a shot of something bright blue, attention shifted. Logan looks back at Daniel, “He’s lying. I’m single-”
“Piastri would say otherwise!” Alex screams from where he’s now on the other side of the fucking club, and Logan is starting to think Williams put secret microphones around the club. There is no fucking way.
Daniel has sudden fear in his eyes, and Logan shakes his head, ignoring the way he feels his body getting thrown off balance. “Daniel it’s fine, just a…thing.” Daniel leans towards his ear, shaking. “Logan, fuck, I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll tell your boyfriend it was all me.”
Logan wants to kill Alex and maybe kill Daniel too for buying them so many drinks, but Logan’s pretty sure he would fall over if he tried to argue right now. Logan groans and looks around the club, and that’s where his eyes land on a girl doing body shots off another girl. Hm.
He grabs Daniel’s wrist and drags him towards Alex, whose oh so graciously accepting shots left and right from strangers, who are crowding him. Logan can barely get through the crowd until Daniel yells ki ki ki, and the crowd parts like the red sea, screaming back oi oi oi!
Logan gets in front of Alex, who greets him with a drunk smile. Logan has to yell over the thumping music of the club, as he gestures at one of the shots Alex was holding. “Give me that.” Alex raises a brow as he gives it to Logan. The crowd suddenly gets louder as Logan lets go of Daniel’s hand, and steps up onto one of the tables. He cups his hands over his mouths and yells, “BODY SHOTS!” Alex and Daniel are laughing so much in each other’s arms that they have fallen over into the booth of the table Logan was standing on, as they watched girls make their way to the front of the crowd, and people holding up their phones as Logan pulls his shirt off and lays down on the table.
If Daniel and Alex didn’t believe he was single after this, he would have to go to confession for thinking such murderous thoughts about his friends. He ignores the part of his brain screaming at him to stop and just call Oscar to pick him up.
The table feels warm against his sweaty back as he pours the first shot of whatever he had in his hand onto his chest and watches a brunette girl step up and lick it off. Cheers erupt even louder from the crowd as Alex places another shot on Logan’s belly button, and another girl steps up and wraps her mouth around the rim of the shot and tips her head back. She shakes her head as she removes the glass from her mouth, and a guy gives her a high five.
Both girls and guys alike take shots off Logan, who's cackling from the constant wetness of tongues dragging themselves across his body, and maybe he imagines another brunet man licking his way down Logan’s body.
The crowd hasn’t dispersed, probably gotten bigger, and Logan suddenly feels a beard drag across the length of his stomach, and he looks down and sees Daniel eye level with him, licking up from Logan’s hip, chasing the vodka dripping down, and up towards his stomach.
Logan’s fucking speechless.
He goes slack jawed and he sees Alex in his peripherals staring at Daniel the same way, and Logan shouldn’t be thinking that this is hot. But, Logan’s not unaware about how attractive Daniel is, and he hopes he can hide the boner he has from previously thinking of Oscar doing the same thing.
Daniel’s mouth is stretched into a smile as he stops at the bottom of his ribcage, cheeks flushed. Before Daniel can even lift his mouth off Logan, Logan feels himself go cold as another shot of tequila is poured onto him, this time on his collarbone, and Daniel wastes no time moving up and latching his mouth at Logan’s shoulder, and moving his mouth.
Logan feels like he can’t breathe.
He’s now very suddenly aware of the hundreds of cameras shoved up in the space, recording them, and of Alex practically passed out across the table from laughing.
He looks back at Daniel, who is now sucking at Logan’s neck, and Logan breathes out shakily, cursing himself for feeling like this.
Daniel finally pulls his mouth off Logan’s body, and holds his arms up, slurring out what seems to be a cheer. Logan laughs, breathlessly, and he sits up, trying to find his shirt, and once he does, he drops himself beside Alex in the booth, the crowd finally leaving.
Daniel slides into the other side of the booth, grinning like a maniac. It’s when Logan realizes how fucking drunk they all were, the dazed look in Daniel’s eyes and Alex gagging suddenly processing in his mind. At the same time, Logan realizes what he was just thinking of Daniel, and he wants to throw up.
Logan feels like something died in his mouth.
He doesn’t know how much he drank last night but he certainly feels it, the pounding in his head definitely not going away any time soon. He feels his stomach protest as Logan tries to move in his bed, and he doesn’t even know how he got here.
He barely makes it to the washroom, and he’s heaving into the toilet, last night’s activities burning the back of his throat, tasting like battery acid. Logan lays his head on the toilet seat and closes his eyes, letting the coolness of it relieve some of his headache.
Logan’s not really sure how long he stays there, but instead of feeling like he’s going to crash and die if he took any attempt at standing up, he feels like that’s just unlikely instead. He drags himself out of the washroom, feet never lifting off the floor, and he has to use the walls to hold himself up.
He sits on the bed, just about to fall back, but he instead picks his phone up, and squeezes his eyes shut at the full brightness his phone is at. He barely opens his eyes to adjust the brightness, fumbling with his phone till it gets darker, and that’s when he’s met with the hundreds of message notifications he has.
A few overnight texts are unexpected, but the sheer amount of them at the moment makes Logan feel scared. He unlocks his phone, and he clicks on the pinned conversation he has with Oscar, and his jaw drops at the amount of messages in the chat since last night.
pain au piastry, yesterday 21:35
Don’t blame me if you’re in another part of Europe tomorrow.
pain au piastry, yesterday 23:07
Uhm, Lo?
Lo?
LOGAN
Fuck
Please don’t tell me this is you
This has to be like deepfake, right?
LOGAN
oh my god im going to kill alex
ARE YOU SERIOUS? DANIEL?
americas RAHHHHH, today, 09:40
uhm wrf happened
osc
osc
osc
???
Logan feels himself sweating as he waits for Oscar to answer. His heart drops to his stomach when Oscar finally answers; not just with a text, but also pictures.
pain au piastry, today, 09:47
You haven’t seen them yet?
pain au piastry, today, 09:47
*five attachments*
When Logan opens them, he gasps. Fuck. It’s multiple, high definition photos of Daniel licking Logan’s bare and shiny chest with a grin on his lips, and a bunch of people are crowding them. In some, he can see Alex strewn across the table, face down, and in a few others he can see Alex cheering. What the fuck.
Logan is so screwed.
“What the hell were you guys thinking last night?” Their PR officer, Emma, is absolutely seething in her teeth.
Logan cowers lower in his seat, where Alex is sitting beside him, sunglasses on his face and crinkled pajamas covering his frame. Across the table, Daniel looks sheepish, as Christian holds his head in his hands, sitting beside Daniel.
“There was no correspondence from any of you whatsoever, so now we are stuck trying to bribe people into deleting the photos.” The Red Bull PR officer, Kym, recites with a practiced tone. Logan can tell she wants to cry.
Another member of the Williams PR team presses a button, and then the projector behind Emma and Kym turns on, where a picture of Daniel’s mouth on Logan’s rib cage immediately pops up. Logan flushes, and Emma sends him a glare.
Kym sighs, “Not only do people think you guys are severe alcoholics, but now they think Daniel’s moving to Williams.”
Christian immediately looks alarmed. Logan looks at Daniel, who has fear in his eyes. “What?” Christian screeches, and he stands up, pointing at Kym. “Fix this, now.” Emma sighs, running a hand through her hair, “Look, we got most of the photos down, but they're bound to pop up again. With the popularity of TikTok and Instagram with the fans, the photos are always going to be circulating, no matter what we do.”
Christian turns to look at both Logan and Alex, and both of them shrink in their seats. And then he looks at Daniel. “Whose idea was this?” His voice echoed in the silent room, and Logan gulps. Fuck, he’s going to lose his seat for next year, isn’t he?
And Logan’s about to open his mouth to answer, he really is, but suddenly Emma’s cutting in, with a tinge of flush on her face. “So I understand you might not want to see the video?”
“THERE’S A VIDEO?!” Logan, Alex, Daniel, and Christian all but shout all at once.
After multiple stern warnings and multiple links to PR presentations sent to their inboxes, Logan, Alex, and Daniel get to leave the room. And those warnings might include never allowing the Williams drivers to have an outing with Daniel unless there’s strict rules set and permission granted (and an approved club, while they’re at it).
(However, the three drivers didn’t see the genuine smiles on their PR team’s faces, and genuine laughs when they were first met with the photos…after one of them was posted on a fan account on Instagram, dedicated to Daniel, and Emma had so gracefully screamed in horror. They missed the way Christian giggled when Kym showed him the photos, hands shaking and fear in her eyes.
“They’re men in their twenties, Kym, let them be.”
“Tumblr, Instagram, and Twitter are in absolute shambles. Shambles.”
“…Right.” So, Christian’s now obligated to call a PR meeting with both Williams and Red Bull.)
Alex was walking in another direction, so Logan followed. Suddenly, he heard the grass rustling and the pavement scraping behind him, so he turned and he found Daniel running towards him, waving his arm up. Logan stopped and smiled, hugging Daniel when he caught up, and immediately had to say something. “I don’t remember jackshit from last night.”
Daniel laughed, while Logan screamed as Alex popped out of nowhere. “I remember it all, very clearly.” Alex blinked, or, well, Logan assumes so because the sunglasses are still covering his eyes, but Logan can hear the paranoia in Alex’s voice.
Daniel grins, “Mate, you drank like half the bar, I’m surprised you even made it out of the club.” Alex shoved at Daniel, removing his sunglasses and resting them in his hair. “And whose fault was that?”
“Touché.”
Logan rubs a hand over his face, finally deciding to address the nuclear bomb sitting in the room. “So…uhm.” Well, just because he decided, didn’t mean he was going to say it. Alex turns and raises a brow at him, while Daniel shuffles in his feet.
“Sorry, mate,” Daniel’s quick to say, and Logan flushes. Hard. “I’m sorry, for, well, you know.” Logan says quietly, avoiding Daniel’s gaze.
Alex scoffs, hooking his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “It’s not even that bad; a few years ago George got busted for skinny dipping in Spain with Lando, and I really can’t burn that image from my brain.”
Logan’s jaw dropped, eyebrows shooting up. “How’d they even get caught?” They start walking, and that’s when Logan notices Daniel’s tucked under Alex’s other arm, and Jesus Christ, they’re acting as Alex’s human crutches.
Alex grins, looking up in the sky, a reminiscent look in his eyes. Like he’s back in that moment. “A few fans had seen George’s car at some beach and tried to find where he was, and it wasn’t long till they found George and Lando stripped of any and all clothes, throwing fishes at each other.”
Well, Logan feels just a little better now.
Daniel cackles in Alex’s ear, making Alex shove Daniel a little bit away. “And why have you not told us this?” They’re close to the Williams motorhome, and Logan really hopes he never has to save Alex from any burning building—Logan’s either too weak, or Alex is heavy. Logan’s going for the latter.
“Just waiting for the perfect time; which this is! So, body shots?” And he looks at Logan, who ducks his head in embarrassment. Before Logan can answer, Alex shifts his gaze to Daniel. “And you taking those body shots?”
Daniel only easily grins, “Anything for the alcohol baby!” Alex rolls his eyes, and gets out from under the other two, before pointing a finger at Logan. “Look, little miss McLaren won’t be happy when he sees those photos, so please go fix that.”
Daniel raises a brow, and that’s when realization dawns on his face. “Piastri?” Logan groans, rubbing his hands over his face, following Alex into his driver’s room. “We’ve known each other since we were, like, twelve, so.” Logan’s done fighting; the fight has been done once Daniel placed his mouth on Logan’s hip.
Daniel steps in front of him and looks at him, a sad smile in his eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way, Logan.” Logan’s shaking his head, and before he can open his mouth, Alex does so first, casually across the room. “Logan found it hot, anyway.” The previous sad look on Daniel’s face suddenly became a smirk, a chaotic expression spread across his face instead. Logan can feel Alex’s smirk from here. That goddamn motherfucker.
“I can go for some drinks right now,” Daniel feigns innocence, and Logan launches himself at Daniel, attacking him. “SHUT UP!” He screeches, and Alex, Daniel, and Logan’s laughs fill the room for hours.
Emma comes banging at their door, well into the night, telling them to be quiet, but she leaves with a smile on her face, matching the group inside playing twister.
So maybe Logan forgets Oscar saw the pictures; sent them to him, even.
Logan doesn’t even want to open any social media apps, equipped with the fear the fandom will be in absolute chaos. He already got Emma to read some comments to him, some of the posts, and he wants to run away.
Lando and George are pissing themselves on Twitter, and Charles and Arthur keep retweeting rough sketches of fanart by fans of other interpretations of the incident. Even the Williams official team is in on it. Oscar seems calm as he posts Just woke up from a nap, did I miss something? but the knocking on the door says otherwise.
Logan opens the door to a twitching Oscar. Well, then.
“Mate, what the hell were you guys doing? Whose fault was it? Whose idea was it? Why did you agree?!” Oscar comes barrelling into Logan’s hotel room, Logan barely able to get a chance to close the door before Oscar’s looking at him expectedly.
“Uhm, alright.” Logan steps towards Oscar, holding his hands up, like he’s been caught. “Just listen, yeah?” Oscar’s brows furrow as he speaks slowly, “Logan…”
“Sit down, yeah?” Logan leads them to the couch, distancing himself far enough in case Oscar wants to throw a punch. Or two.
“We were all drunk, very, very drunk.” Oscar laughs, barely a puff of air, really, and blinks. “That’s not making me feel any better, Logan.”
“It was my idea.” Yes Logan, just jump straight into it. (THIS WAS NOT THE PLAN?!)
Oscar’s jaw drops before he stands up, looking at Logan with an odd fear in his eyes. “You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?”
Logan offers a small, hesitant smile, “It was just to prove something, really. Other people did it too-”
Oscar’s eyes only get wider and his jaw drops even further. “What do you mean ‘other people did it too?’”
Logan gulps. He really should think before he speaks. “Uh, you know,” he scratches his head, diverting his gaze to look at the really interesting flower vase on the TV stand. Logan never knew a vase could look so vase-y. “It wasn’t just Daniel.”
“Oh my god.” Oscar walks away from the couch, towards the bedroom and Logan frowns, calling after him. “Osc?” Cautiously, Logan approaches the room, when suddenly Oscar appears in front of his face and slams a pillow into his face. Logan keels over in pain, searing hot white bursting through his nose.
“What the fuck?!” Suddenly Logan’s being pulled up and Oscar’s face is in front of his, seething. “Anyone do this?” And before Logan could even ask, fathom, what Oscar just said and did, he’s pressing his lips on Logan’s.
Oh, ok.
Logan groans as Oscar’s nose nudges his, tongue somehow ending up in Logan’s mouth. Hands are gripping at Logan’s hips and Logan pushes into Oscar, pushes him into the doorframe, pressing his tongue against Oscar’s, memorizing the pattern of his teeth. Oscar’s hand is in his hair, suddenly tugging his head back, making Logan roll his eyes as he lets go.
“What?” Logan tried to sound not annoyed, but he was in the middle of making out with the love of his life–interrupted by the love of his life. He’s been dreaming about this for too long and he’ll savour every fucking second of this, memorize every single atom of Oscar’s body if time allows.
Oscar’s eyes suddenly widen and he’s pushing at Logan’s jaw. “Hold still, you have something on your face.”
Logan scrunches his nose, leaning back into Oscar, breath ghosting over his. “Fuck off, get it off later.” Instead of going back to kissing, Oscar pushes him away, thumb on his neck, the rest of his fingers resting on his back, holding Logan away.
Defeated, Logan sighs, looking at Oscar. “Fine, get it off, dipshit.” Oscar only rolls his eyes at the insult before he leans in and licks a stripe of Logan’s neck.
Logan barely holds back a moan, stuttering. “Uh- isn’t it on my face?” Logan gets cut off with a groan as Oscar bites at his neck, gripping at Oscar’s hips harder, pushing him into the jagged edge of the doorframe. “Ok then,” Logan barely huffs out as Oscar bites at his ear, whispering.
“I was on your face.”
And Logan just barely resists the urge to hit him in the head. Instead, he hoists Oscar up suddenly, pulling him back in, Oscar’s legs wrapped around Logan’s waist.
“Holy shit,” Oscar whispers in awe, smiling against Logan’s lips, eyes crinkling. Logan moves his mouth to Oscar’s jaw, smirking. “You’re that impressed with my strength?” Oscar slaps at his back, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck to make Logan look at him in the eyes.
“You’re pretty.” Oscar says, voice suddenly quiet and pupils dilated. Logan smiles, holding eye contact as he kisses at Oscar’s collarbone, hands reaching into the McLaren shirt he has on. “You’re prettier,” he starts to bite at the junction that connects his neck to his shoulder, lapping his tongue at it as it starts to turn red. “All mine.”
Oscar all but groans in his ear, back arching from discomfort against the ridges digging into his back. Oscar’s about to tug Logan back up again, but suddenly someone’s knocking at the door, making Oscar snap his head in the direction of the door, while Logan oh so graciously drops his head into Oscar’s chest.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Oscar narrows his eyes as he untangles himself from Logan, who walks towards the door, irritated.
He doesn’t even bother to look through the peephole, opting to open the door with an aggressiveness he wishes he could apply on the track. It’s…Max?
“Oh, uhm. Hi?” Logan’s voice goes unexpectedly quiet because he really didn’t think Max fucking Verstappen was going to knocking at his door.
“Are you with Daniel?” Max is straightforward, and Logan can respect that. Logan offers a small smile and shakes his head, “Nope, but last time I checked he was in the hotel twenty minutes from here.”
Max’s jaw clenched as he looked at Logan, an icy look in his eyes. “You sure?”
And, holy fuck he’s going to regret this, but Logan scoffs as he drops his voice to an angry whisper. “I’m very sure, since I’m making out with Oscar right now. So. Shoo.” And with that Logan shuts the door in Max’s face, slamming his lips into Oscar’s lips just as he turns around, ignoring how their teeth clashed a little too painfully.
Later, when Alex texts him asking why Lily thought she saw Oscar go to their hotel, he replies with a picture of Oscar staring dead into the camera, flipping him off, as multiple hickies start to become visible.
“You weren’t complaining when you were pushing me into bed, Osc.”
“You didn’t warn me you were a fucking bloodthirsty vampire, Sarge.”