Archive of Our Own ^beta

Several things hit Lando all at once as he rounded the last corner & crossed the finish line to become the winner of the 2025 British Grand Prix. The first was practically uncontainable amounts of joy - he’d done it, he actually won his home race, and nobody could take that from him. The second was a swell of emotion so violent it nearly choked him, and he knew that came through in his radio, that everyone would hear the tears in his voice, but fuck it he didn’t even care. And the third? Dizzying arousal, cock trying desperately to break through the fabric of his race suit, and Lando had to squirm to readjust & make sure it wouldn’t be caught when he got out of the car. 

The Winner’s Room - a time honoured tradition every driver craved but was rarely awarded. Granted only for a drivers first win, or a win at their home Grand Prix, the winning driver got to choose any driver of their choice on the grid to accompany them, and the driver chosen could not refuse. Together they would be locked in a room for 12 straight hours, from midnight to midday, and would (in theory) fuck like bunnies in any way the winner desired. 

When Lando had taken his maiden win in Miami last year he’d chosen Daniel, wanting to take the opportunity to fulfill his decade long crush. They’d had fun, fucked in every way imaginable, and had come out of it even better friends which Lando didn’t really think had been possible. It was always interesting to Lando to see who drivers chose as their first. Charles had chosen Seb, Max had also chosen Daniel, Daniel had chosen Nico Rosberg of all people, George had chosen Lewis, Oscar had chosen George (and Lando really tried not to let that sting, but if he thought about it for too long it still smarted). 

For most drivers the only time they got a second trip to the Room (and in a few cases the only time they got a first) was to be chosen by someone else. Home wins were rare, with several drivers not even having a home race that would count towards proceedings, and between Lewis’s dominance and then Max’s, Lando knew of many drivers who’d given up on the idea of ever winning their home race. Lando himself had refused to ever ponder who he might choose if he ever had the honours again, not wanting to get his hopes up for something that seemed impossible to achieve. But he’d done it, he’d won Silverstone, and now his cock was rock hard just thinking about all the possibilities.

He didn’t give it much thought as he climbed out of the car and went to celebrate with his family and his team. Oscar came over to give him a muted congratulations, it was fine, Lando got it, and his mum held his face in her hands, whispering over and over how proud she was (he had to put the visor on his helmet down lest the cameras catch him crying over it). He still wasn’t thinking about it in the cool down room, too busy congratulating Nico as they both debriefed the race and tired to ignore Oscar’s weird sour attitude (like Lando said, he got it, even if it stung him maybe just a little). The podium ceremony felt like a dream, and all Lando could think about was how he’d done his home and his country proud that day, an achievement that would be written in the history books for years to come.

It wasn’t until he was approached by the FIA delegate prior to heading to do his post race media that he thought about it again. She asked him point blank if he knew who he wanted in the room, and when he replied in the negative she merely nodded and handed him a slip of paper, telling him that he had until 8pm to notify them of his chosen person or he would forfeit his claim to the room. She then asked if there was anyone that could be categorically excluded, and that list Lando found much easier, listing off most of the grid. She nodded, saying she would notify them of their dismissal and reminded him that the 8pm time was a strict cutoff before walking away. Lando barely had time to consider it further before he was being rushed to the presser and then the media pen. The presser went fine, all questions that he expected, and his mind was honestly too distracted to pay attention to anything but his own responses.

It was in the media pen that things shifted, and gave him the clarity he needed. He had been standing there, waiting for his turn with one of the Dutch reporters, fidgeting with the slip in his pocket while contemplating the choices he hadn’t eliminated (George, Lewis, Charles, Carlos, Nico, Max, Oscar), when a question they asked Oscar caught his attention. They were asking if he regretted in hindsight asking the team on the radio to swap the two of them (Lando hadn’t known about that), and if he still thought what he said on the radio about his penalty being an unfair advantage to his teammate (Lando hadn’t known about that either) was right. Oscar’s answer shocked him, the other man practically refusing to talk about it, saying he meant what he said but would not be elaborating further as he didn’t want to get penalized, that Lando had won and there was nothing more to be done about it as the team had secured the 1-2 so there would be no protests lodged. The answer left Lando in a vague daze for the rest of his time in the media pen, pondering over just what had been said and why Oscar seemed so upset.

By the time Lando made it back to his driver room he was desperate to find the radio, convinced that maybe he was just missing some important piece of context and that it wasn’t actually as bad as it had sounded in the media pen. It didn’t take him long, it was all anyone could talk about, and he took a moment to take a deep breath, pondering if listening was really worth it (if it was as bad as it sounded Lando knew it might permanently change their relationship). Deciding he absolutely had to know he hit play, and what came out was so much worse than he could have imagined. It left Lando furious, his rage only growing each time he rewatched it. How DARE Oscar beg the team to swap them, how dare he say Lando got an unfair advantage. It was hardly Lando’s fault there was a crash, Lando didn’t force Oscar to break so hard he got a penalty, it was just fortunate that he was in the right place at the right time to capitalise. When he couldn’t stand to watch it even another second he scrolled, but the next video did nothing to soothe his rage, with Andrea talking about how they were planning to double stack in the event of a safety car and force Lando to wait out Oscar’s penalty.

By this point Lando was so angry he was nearly vibrating with it, his body unable to contain the hurt he was feeling. Because it wasn’t just anger, it was hurt too. Lando had tried so hard this year to be gracious, to not let this championship fight come between himself and Oscar, to not let it ruin this thing that had been building between them that neither were quite ready to admit  was there, but that they could both feel nonetheless. He’d congratulated Oscar every time he won, he’d been quick to admit fault and apologise in Canada (even if deep down he wanted to argue that he hadn’t been left room), he’d made sure to praise Oscar even when it was Lando that won. Hell, he’d done just that earlier today. So this reaction from Oscar, it fucking hurt. 

It was with that in mind that he pulled out the slip and wrote Oscar’s name in big bold letters, folding it in half before marching out of the motorhome, past Andrea who was clearly comforting Oscar, and over to the FIA delegate. He could see from the corner of his eye both men watching him, but he just ignored them, passing the paper over to the woman with a smirk on his face before turning on his heel and heading back inside. Sure, Mclaren may have made them promise this year that they wouldn’t call on the other in the event of a home race win, something about mind games that Lando didn’t pay attention to, but if Mclaren were willing to fuck him over like this then they could get fucked. After he got changed and said goodnight to his parents he walked out of the motorhome, ready to get some partying in before his real prize. He passed Oscar talking to Zak this time, making sure to smirk at the other man as he held eye contact. Yeah, this was going to be fun.

—-----------------

When Lando arrived at the hotel thirty minutes before midnight he was still relatively sober. He might’ve loved to party, but being present for the payback he was about to administer felt far more important. He met up with the same FIA delegate from earlier who gave him a key and explained that Oscar was already waiting in the room and that he hadn’t been particularly happy about being chosen, and was Lando sure that he wanted to go ahead. When Lando confirmed that he did (just a bet he’s upset about losing, he said, to soothe the frazzled looking woman), she made sure to go over all the rules with him again (the door would not unlock for him until midnight, they would have exactly 12 hours, no more no less, everything was on the table and it was winners choice, the colour system of safe words must be respected, nothing that will seriously hurt or injure either party unless both fully consent, no visible marks), and then she dismissed him, telling him the room was the penthouse suite and to have fun. 

As he took the elevator up he finally let himself think about all the things he could do, he cock growing hard in his pants. When he got out of the elevator into the foyer he realised he still had about 15 minutes before he would be allowed in. He decided it would be worth freshening up so he rushed to his own room a few floors down, brushing his teeth and having a quick rinse in the shower before putting on a pair of comfy sweats and a loose tee and heading back up. He arrived back with only a minute to spare, pacing in front of the door loud enough that Oscar would know he was there. When the alarm on his phone pinged to let him know it was midnight he faced the door and took a deep, steadying breath before holding the key to the keypad, the lock clicking open with a beep.

He entered the suite to see that most of the lights were on and soft mood music was playing, but Oscar was nowhere to be found. Instead of calling for the other man, Lando took a few  minutes to look around, searching room by room for his teammate. When he finally made his way into what he could only assume was the master bedroom he found Oscar standing at the window, back to him, wearing an outfit similar to Lando’s own. Lando stopped for a moment to admire him, he had always found his teammate to be quite beautiful, before clearing his throat. Oscar startled, clearly not realising Lando had found him or maybe he just lost track of time. He turned to face Lando, opening his mouth to speak, but Lando cut him off. 

“What the fuck was that today mate?” was the first thing out of Lando’s mouth, his tone clearly showing the hurt he felt. Oscar let his gaze fall away, unable to meet Lando’s eyes, shifting on his feet, but Lando wasn’t letting him off without an explanation. “Seriously Osc, I thought we were past this bullshit, I thought we respected each other enough not to devalue each others wins anymore but clearly I was fucking mistaken. So tell me what the fuck that was!” Lando was yelling by the end of it but still Oscar refused to speak, just shaking his head before looking down again. This frustrated Lando and he stepped forward to meet the other man, grabbing his chin in his hands and getting right up in his face. “No? You don’t want to tell me? Fine, I guess I’ll just have to make you”. Stepping back, Lando moved to sit in the chair beside the window, slouching enough that his legs were spread and Oscar could clearly see the tent in his sweats.

“Y’know Osc, I won today, beat you fair and square, so I reckon I deserve a little treat for working so hard don’t you? I think you’re gonna strip for me pretty boy, give me a show before I own you for the night.” Lando let his eyes trail up and down Oscar’s body, noting the lack of visible erection. Lando didn’t let himself dwell on that though, this night was for him and he wasn’t going to let himself care if Oscar enjoyed it. Oscar just stood there stock still, blush growing on his face, clearly not sure where to start. Lando just pulled up a song on his phone, some techno thing with a filthy beat, before looking at Oscar and stating with as much authority as he could muster, “I said: Strip”. 

Oscar just looked at him one more time before beginning to sway his hips awkwardly to the beat, unsure what he was doing but unwilling to push Lando further. He slowly pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the abs that Lando won’t admit to having dreamed about and the freckles Lando wishes he could connect with his tongue. He watched the blush spread further down Oscar’s body as he circled his hips again, his whole body turning and giving Lando a view of that glorious ass. As he made it back around to face Lando he toyed with the waistband of his sweatpants, clearly still nervous. Lando just quirked a brow at him and watched as he fumbled with the drawstring before dropping his sweats and stepping out of them, arms crossing over his chest as Lando openly ogled him. 

It took Lando a minute to realise what it was he was seeing, or rather what it was that was missing. It was as his eyes were trailing up Oscar’s calves, tracing over his beautifully thick thighs, that he noticed it. Instead of the bulge Lando had been expecting, even if the other man wasn’t hard his cock still would’ve shown with how tight he wears his underwear, there was a wet spot in its place, the crotch of the briefs sticking to what Lando could now see was Oscar’s fat pussy lips. When Oscar noticed where Lando was staring his hands flew down to cover himself, shoulders hunching in and face flaming, trying to stutter out an explanation Lando had no interest in listening to. Instead he walked over to the other man, grabbing the waistband of his briefs and pulling them down, pushing Oscar to lay down on the bed and taking both his smaller hands in one of Lando’s own, forcing Oscar to bare himself to Lando’s hungry gaze.

Lando just held him there as he let his eyes wander, taking in the other boy's thick but well groomed bush and the slick shine of his cunt that told Lando he wasn’t nearly as against the proceedings as he was trying to act. Lando brought his leg up and wedged in between the other boy’s thighs, Oscar subconsciously grinding down before flushing an even brighter red when he realised what he was doing. Delighted, Lando leaned down to whisper in his ear, “c’mon pretty boy, make yourself cum on my leg”. Oscar met his eyes, seeing the spark of challenge in them, before slowly resuming his movements. He started off gentle at first, a slow dirty grind that could not possibly be enough for him, before working himself up to a faster grind, making sure his clit was hitting Lando’s leg as he chased his release. Feeling merciful, Lando reached his free hand down to rub viciously at the other man’s clit. It only took a few swipes before Oscar was cumming, Lando feeling the damp spot growing against his leg. 

Lando wasted no time bringing Oscar’s wrists up to the headboard, attaching them one to each corner with the cuffs he’d seen there earlier. Satisfied that the other man couldn’t move, he then got off from on top of him, moving to secure his ankles in the same fashion. He noticed Oscar squirming as he grabbed his ankle, asking “Colour?” and not moving any further while he waited for Oscar to answer. Oscar squirmed a little more, clearly embarrassed, before stating clearly “green”, and Lando continued with his movements. When Lando was done he got off the bed to admire his work, Oscar cuffed spread eagle to the bed, cunt now fully on display for Lando to enjoy.

“Y’know princess,” Lando began, taking off his own shirt and pants but leaving his underwear on for now, a wet spot forming where the head of his cock lay, clearly giving away his interest. “I’ve always known you were attractive, but I never knew you made for such a pretty girl .” The words hit Oscar like a bullet, hips jackknifing up as he cried out, slick dripping from his cunt. “Oh you like that huh? Like when I call you a pretty girl? Cause that’s what you are isn’t it Oscie? Just a pretty little slutty girl.” Oscar was thrashing now, clearly desperate to be touched, moans filling the air like a livewire straight to Lando’s cock. “Shush honey, no need to cry, I’ll give you what you need,” he said as he leaned down, leaving a kiss directly on Oscar’s clit. “Such a pretty little cunt baby, fuck I’m going to ruin you.”

Lando didn’t waste any more time, leaning in and running his tongue up and down Oscar’s slit, gathering his wetness before leaning up and bringing their lips together in a kiss, forcing Oscar to taste himself on Lando’s tongue. He moved back down again, his lips kissing a trail back down Oscar’s body to the prize between his legs, sucking the boy's clit into his mouth as more slick gushed from his hole. He brought his mouth back to where it was clear Oscar was desperate for it, thumbing at his clit as he let his tongue fuck inside, spearing into Oscar as he bucked up into Lando’s face, no warning at all before he was cumming a second time. Lando refused to let him have even a second of relief, tongue fucking him through the after shocks before moving back up to suck on his clit as he let first one and then two fingers fuck inside to open Oscar up. 

Oscar was clearly overstimulated, moaning Lando’s name and begging him to stop, to wait, that it was too much, but Lando didn’t care. He was three fingers deep, fucking in and out of Oscar like it was his job, when Oscar came for the third time, this time squirting cum all over Lando’s hand and face. Lando just leaned back to watch, marveling at how much Oscar was able to cum, the boy now sobbing and desperate for just a moment to recover. Finally, Lando took mercy on him, backing away so that he wasn’t touching Oscar at all, stripping off his briefs and squeezing the base of his cock so that he wouldn’t cum. Oscar laid there sobbing, legs trying to close but unable to, pussy clenching with the aftershocks. 

“Fuck sweetheart, that was so fucking hot,” were the words out of Lando’s mouth as he climbed back on top of the other man, sealing their mouths in a kiss. “Fuck baby, need to fuck you now, need to get my cock in you and fill you right up with cum. You want that pretty girl, you want my cum?” Oscar was nodding frantically, pushing his hips up as if trying to get Lando inside faster. “Fuck angel you’re so perfect for me, how did I get so lucky huh?”

Lando slowly lined himself up, rubbing the head of his cock over Oscar’s clit a few times before slowly pushing in. Even with all the prep Oscar was tight, his walls squeezing at Lando’s cock as he pushed his way inside, tears falling from the other man's eyes as he just laid there and took it. When Lando was finally fully seated he stopped to let himself breathe, burying his face in Oscar’s neck and sucking a hickey into his shoulder, just low enough that his polo would hide it. Finally, minutes later when Lando felt like he wouldn’t bust immediately, he rocked his hips back, cock sliding out of Oscar before he fucked it back in, repeating this over and over, building up speed until he was pounding into the man below him. He could feel that Oscar was close once again, his walls spasming around him, so he brought a hand down to rub at Oscar’s clit, determined to make him cum again before his own release. It didn’t take long before Oscar let go, cum once again spraying from his hole and making a mess, Lando thrusting once, twice more before shoving his cock as far in as it would go, his warm cum filling Oscar up.

The two lay there panting for minutes before Lando forced himself to move, getting to his knees and slowly pulling his cock out, staring as their combined release drooled out of Oscar’s now ruined cunt. He couldn’t help himself as he brought his mouth down to the other man’s cunt, licking their combined release out of him, bringing his face back up to Oscar’s and forcing his mouth open before spitting their loads inside, Oscar flushing violently and moaning at the filthy action. He did this over and over until they were mostly clean, Oscar’s eyes going foggier each time, his mouth now slack and tongue out as if he were begging.

He then made his way to the bathroom, swiping a quick cloth over himself to clean the mess, rinsing it and bringing it back to clean Oscar, the other boy now barely conscious after four orgasms. He made quick work of untying Oscar’s limbs, taking the time to massage the blood back into each one, before laying down behind him and cuddling in close. Before he could drift off he reached for his phone, setting an alarm for two hours. As much as he wanted to fully take advantage of their time together, unsure where they’d stand when they left this room, he figured they could afford a couple of hours to rest and recharge. As Lando drifted off to sleep, spooning Oscar in front of him, he couldn’t help but think of all the things they could do in the hours they had left.