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Summary
Under Lando’s intense scrutiny, Oscar feels not unlike a bug under a microscope, exposed and dissected. Tension brews between them, thick and electric, and Oscar has to force himself to look away, desperately trying to suppress the familiar stirring sensation rising from deep within him.
Lando ignores his comment, making Oscar sit in the palpable awkwardness. “Qualifying starts soon. We’ll talk afterwards.” The command is casual, but it holds a weight that sends a shiver down Oscar’s spine.
“About?” Oscar croaks, and he curses himself for the way his voice sounds so small.
“Just be a good boy and come to my room afterwards, yeah?”
Lando's words hang in the air, sultry and teasing, leaving Oscar momentarily speechless. Oscar’s lips part in shock as Lando turns, leaving with confident strides. A rush of heat floods his face, the implication of Lando’s request igniting something primal within him, a sharp jolt of desire beneath his navel that he struggles to ignore.
Or,
The one where Oscar gets a hickey and Lando goes a little crazy trying to figure out who it's from.