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“You did borrow my fucking deodorant, you muppet!”
Oscar turns, startled, to find Lando at the door of his driver’s room, arms crossed and both eyebrows raised.
“I definitely did not.” Oscar says, rolling his eyes fondly.
“Then why is it here Osco?” Lando says and he points to a half-empty deodorant cannister on the shelf.
“That is mine.” Oscar says. He then, after a quick scan as to whomever might be lurking outside the door, drops his voice down to a whisper. “But you are welcome to come closer and find out.”
Lando smirks. “Oh really?”
“Yea, but quickly, we have a team thing.”
Lando rolls his eyes, but shuts the door, locks it and then Oscar is all over him. Or, rather, they are all over each other. Oscar pushes him up against the closed door, one hand tangling itself in Lando’s curls, the other clutching at his waist, pulling them flush against each other. Lando’s hands link behind his neck and he grins at him for a second before closing the gap between them. Oscar melts into the kiss, and despite the pungent smell of sweat and hastily sprayed on deodorant, he is desperate to pull Lando even closer. Lando is the same, and his hands move up and down Oscar’s back, pulling at the hair at the base of his neck, clawing at his race suit, trying to peel it off. Oscar shoves a leg in-between Lando’s and the Brit moans into his mouth. Oscar takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in and Lando bites down on his bottom lip, hard. It’s hot and needy and fast, they only have a few minutes before they are needed downstairs and then the afterparties will beckon them out, and then it will be hours before they are alone.
“Fuck the afterparties.” Lando murmurs against Oscar’s lips, as if he is reading his thoughts. “I can’t wait hours to have you.”
“Same.” Oscar says. His lips leave Lando’s and he starts kissing down Lando’s neck, leaving bites in places that can be covered up by a t-shirt. Lando tips his head back to give him better access, pulling hard at Oscar’s hair. “But you know we can’t.”
“So fucking lame.” Lando says. He pulls Oscar’s face back up and kisses him again, slow and deep, holding his face in the way Oscar adores. The way that tells Oscar, without needing words, just how much Lando loves him. Oscar’s leg is still shoved in-between Lando’s and he presses up, causing them both to moan.
“Don’t fucking do that baby, then I definitely won’t be able to wait.” Lando says, but he doesn’t stop kissing him. In fact, it just becomes more heated and Lando’s fingers are tugging at the zip on Oscar’s trousers, trying to get it open.
Then, a loud knock bangs on the door and the room shakes. They both freeze, one of Lando’s hands shoved down Oscar’s front, the other tangled in his hair. Oscar is holding Lando’s waist. Marc’s voice comes through the door.
“Boys, the team is waiting.” A pause. “Please fix your hair before you leave.”
“Yep. Will do.” Oscar says back, voice clipped and face red from embarrassment. Lando laughs and Oscar hangs his head, mortified. Lando uses a finger to tip his head up and kisses him softly, before they untangle themselves.
Oscar looks in the small mirror and is horrified by the sight; red, puffy lips, messy hair and flushed cheeks. There is zero other way to explain his appearance.
Watching him, Lando chuckles. “You look dishevelled love.”
Oscar groans. “Fucking hell.” He runs a hand through his hair and splashes water on his face from his bottle. Lando does the same. They are, annoyingly, well-practiced at this. However, increasingly, they don’t reassemble themselves with the sense of frustration as they once did. They know where they stand with each other now, what they mean to each other. Oscar trusts it, as does Lando.
Lando reaches for the deodorant cannister and when he goes to use it, notices a giant L written on the side in pink marker. “This is mine!”
Oscar grins, laughing.
“So you did steal it!” Lando sounds scandalised.
Oscar shrugs. “Maybe I just wanted to smell like you.” He chucks off his driver’s t-shirt and pulls on a fresh shirt. Lando watches the move with approval, and then disappointment as Oscar’s bare chest disappears from view.
“You’re so gay for me sometimes. It’s embarrassing.” Lando says.
“Says the one with half an erection right now.” Oscar says, pointing at Lando’s trousers. The Brit looks down and curses. Oscar laughs and pulls Lando back in, kissing him slowly.
“Another double podium.” He whispers.
“We are fucking on fire this year baby.” Lando says.
“Yea we are.” Oscar says. “I love you.”
“And I love you. And we are skipping out on some of these parties. You can’t get me like this and then abandon me for an entire evening.”
Oscar grins and nods. “Sure thing baby.”
And he sprays on the deodorant – Lando’s deodorant – and leaves the room, where an exasperated Marc is waiting for them.