Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
"Lando?" He asks, shocked, because standing in the doorway is technically Lando, but not his Lando. This one is much younger, plucked straight from his rookie year or somewhere thereabouts, almost like someone had taken a look through Oscar's old social media footprint and plucked out the very version of Lando that Oscar had obsessed over, hidden under the guise of looking up to his racecraft.
Well, Oscar did admire his racing, but it wasn't exactly Lando's car that had him jerking off under the covers in shitty hotels between F2 races, fist almost stuffed into his own mouth to evade the scrutiny that came with the paper thin walls.
...mostly
This Lando is also shirtless, waistband of his pants twisted slightly as if he'd pulled them on in a hurry, tripping over himself as he hurried to the main room. Clearly Oscar had interrupted something.
"Who are you?"