Archive of Our Own ^beta

Lando sat slumped down in his swivel chair, cheeks burning as zak and andrea stood arms folded in front of him.

He didn't understand. They had both agreed with him, both said it was just hard racing, nothing crazy. 

Butnow, after the story had been spun around every social media app and journalist, they had changed their minds. 

He had been at fault, they said. 

So here he was, nodding glumly along with their speech about "teamwork" and "collaboration" and bullshit. It wasn't fucking fair.

Finally, they seemed to near the end of the little telling off, and Andrea crouched down in front of Lando.

"There will have to be repercussions for your actions, Lando."

Lando stiffened slightly. 

"We have decided a way to sort this, between you and Oscar. To make it fair, understand?" 

Lando nodded miserably for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Ok. Follow me, please." 

Andrea got up, and began to walk out of the office and towards the hall. Lando's eyebrows came down in question, but he got up and nodded a curt goodbye to Zak, all the same. Zak seemed to avoid his eyes, a guilty grimace overtaking his face as Lando stepped out into the garishly orange hallway. He chose to ignore that. Otherwise the pit in his stomach would grow deeper. 

He caught up with Andrea, who was leant against the wall outside the white door of a rest room. These were usually used between long meetings, equiped with a small sofa and soft lighting, maybe a TV. Lando looked over at Andrea in question.

"He's just in there for you, Lando." Andrea gestured with his thumb, pointing towards the door as he pushed off the wall to come face to face with Lando. 

He clapped a rough, heavy hand on his shoulder and gave him a tight smile. He was probably going for reassurance, but the oddness of this entire situation was just putting Lando more on edge.

And who was him?

Andrea stalked off before Lando could ask, so all he could do was find out for himself. 

He didn't knock. He just turned the handle and walked in, closing the door behind him as his eyes tried to adjust to the almost black room. It was lit by a small lamp in the corner, illuminating the small sofa and table.

And sat on said sofa, was Oscar.

And Lando suddenly wanted to turn back. 

He was reaching for the handle again when he heard a gut wrenching click.

It couldn't- they wouldn't...

He jostled the handle, to no avail. Hearing a small chuckle, he turned back to watch as Oscar stood from the sofa and sauntered up to him slowly. 

"They told you then?" His accent drawled out low and lazy, as he came to a stop right in front of Lando.

Lando grew hot, feeling undermined and embarrassed about seemingly being the only person who did not have a flying fuck what was going on.

He glanced around the room, wanting to look anywhere but at Oscar's face right now, crushingly aware that he probably hated his guts right now. 

His blood ran cold as he caught sight of the pile of thin rope nestled on top of the coffee table. Next to it, a bottle of lube and a box of wipes. 

"Osc.." Lando brought his wide eyes up to Oscars face, breath catching as he took in the rare boldness that lay there. "W-what is this?"

Oscar's mouth drew up into a lopsided smirk, glancing back over his shoulder at the table before settling back on Lando.

"It's your punishment. It's the repercussion for the contact." 

Lando's face burned. It still wasn't making sense. Surely he didn't- surely he wouldn't-

"Oscar this isn't funny" He snapped, finally losing his patience after the half hour he sat through being preached to about good sportsmanship and fairness. 

Oscar's face fell instantly, irritation flashing over his features before settling back into his usual stoney, unreadable expression. 

"No. It isn't." His voice was icy and monotone, and it made Lando uneasy. He hated that he was still so dependent on what Oscar thought of him. Oscar turned and walked back to the sofa, spreading his legs wide as he sat on the plush cushion. He looked over at Lando and rolled his eyes, as if annoyed at Lando for not instantly knowing what he wanted of him.

"Well come on, then. They've only given me an hour for this." 

Lando didn't know why, but he found himself stumbling over his legs, clambering onto the sofa and perching awkwardly next to Oscar while searching his features for any clue of what was happening. 

"Are you gonna fucking sit there like some dumb slut or are you gonna get on your knees?" 

Lando jolted in shock, like he'd been slapped. His mouth flew open, hands coming up to fiddle with his hoodie as he let out a small, shrill laugh. 

"Uh, what? Oscar, im serious, I dont understand-"

Oscar reached out, grabbing him by the hood and pulling him off the sofa and down to the floor, between his parted legs. His knees hit the carpet roughly, and he released a pained grunt as he caught himself on his palms. He was so shocked he didn't even realise he was face to face with Oscar's crocth until he caught sight of the large bulge pushing against the soft material of his black trousers. 

He froze. 

It finally started dawning on him what this was, what was happening here. He scrambled a bit, trying to stand up, but Oscar held him in place easily. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. This is the only way the team move forward, remember? They expect you to be enthusiastic and willing to fix this issue." 

Lando paused. He couldn't help it. He had given everything to this team, and the thought of Zak looking at him in disappointment because he couldn't do what they had asked made him weirdly want to cry. 

"But I...no one told me about this?" He whispered, looking up through long eyelashes at Oscar, his face twisting in despair. 

Oscar just shrugged. "Not my problem. Now give me your hands, I dont want you grabbing at me while I fuck your throat." 

He said it so casually that Lando had to wait a second to see if he had misheard. Clearly he hadn't, if the small smack Oscar delivered to his head was anything to go by.

"Now, Lando. The rope behind you, pass it here so I can tie them." He nodded at sormthign behind Lando before glaring expectantly at him.

Lando was on autopilot, robotically reaching behind himself until he felt the coil of rope, passing it to Oscar with shaking hands. 

Oscar took it roughly, grabbing Lando's wrists and wrapping it around them tightly. He didn't flinch at the small whimper that left him when he tightened the knot cruelly, he didn't wait for him to settle himself before he unzipped his fly. 

Lando was gazing up at his face, still waiting for a sign of tenderness or awkward apology from the Aussie. But he was met with nothing, Oscar instead pulling himself out of his grey briefs and giving himself a few rough tugs to get to full hardness.

Lando's mouth watered despite himself, the thickness of Oscar teasing him. The drops of precum that slid down the shaft were glistening as Oscar slid a spare hand into his brown curls and tugged him ever closer to his twitching cock. 

He gripped himself low on the base, slapping the red, thick head of his cock on Lando's lips. Lando let them part, poking his tongue out slightly to catch the strings of precum. It was musky, salty, all the things he'd heard girls say it was. It wasn't bad, he supposed. How could it be, if it was Oscar.

"Open up, Lan." He parted his mouth wider, eyes flicking up for Oscar's approval. "There, just like that." His stomach fluttered slightly at that. 

He received no warning when Oscar pushed all the way in, tip ramming against the back of his throat roughly and wrenching a horrific wet gag from the pits of his stomach. His body ached with it, but Oscar kept going. Kept pulling on his hair and pushing him down, Lando's nose tickled by the curly pubes that lay neatly against his groin. 

Lando lifted his joined hands up, clinging desperately to Oscar's trousers as he choked and gagged around him. It wasn't as hard as he thought, he just had to make sure he timed his breathing right. He felt his spit drip down the corners of his mouth, dropping onto his shorts, some of it catching his skin. 

He wondered if this was legal. If it was written into his contract that if he fucked up, Oscar was allowed to face fuck him. 

"Fuck, you're messy." Oscar grunted, his face had flushed a light pink from the pleasure, but if it wasn't for that, Lando would wonder if he was getting anything from this at all. 

Lando tried to garble a response, but it all it did was cause more spit to dribble down his face. That seemed to make Oscar laugh, but he didn't really understand why.

After a while, once Lando's jaw had started to ache profusely, Oscar dragged him off his dick and pulled him up onto the sofa with him. He pushed him down, until his chest was pressing into the cushion and his back arched up obscenely. It was slightly humiliating, especially when Oscar pulled his shorts and briefs down in one, the material catching around where his knees were bent.

"Osc- Oscar! Wait-"

Oscar leant down, his lips pressing against his ear.

"I told you, this puts what you did behind us. You don't want to let the team down, right?"

Lando shut up. 

He let Oscar drip cold lube over his hole, let him shove a finger into him, muffled his groans into the pillow beneath him. He grasped at the sofa with his tied hands, scrabbling for purchase as one finger turned to two, then three. 

He was able to do this, because it wasn't for him. It was for the team. 

When he felt a blunt pressure against his slicked hole, he tensed up. Oscar must've noticed this time, stroking a hand down his back and waiting until Lando nodded into his folded arms to go ahead. He would be lying if said he didn't want it, he'd been hard since Oscar's fat cock was rammed down his throat. 

When the pressure doubled, splitting him open and forcing a path into him, he stopped trying to keep the moans in. 

"Fuck, Lan. Good boy, taking your punishment so well." Lando felt himself jolt at the praise, keening high in his throat as Oscar started to move in and out of him, his thrusts long and deep. "Yeah, gonna make Zak so happy with this. You want that, don't you Lan?" 

He was fairly sure he was crying a bit, his hips twitching back and forth to try and get more pressure- on his dick, on his walls, he couldn't decide. Oscar was kind in this way at least, his thrusts speeding up and becoming more and more rough, massaging Lando's prostate thoroughly each time. 

"F-fuck, Osc-" He panted, face smushed into the fabric of the sofa, eyes staring into space as Oscar doubled his efforts. Lando felt heat spread through his stomach as his cock rubbed against the pillows underneath him. The shorts stuck around his knees rubbed into the sensitive skin, and he was sure there would be red, raw skin there to match his bound wrists.

Oscar grunted as his thrusts grew sloppier, clearly teetering on the edge himself. He bent himself over Lando's back and pulled his head up by his curly hair to whisper into his ear. 

"Gonna cum? Gonna make them proud?" 

Lando let out a hoarse cry, his orgasm wracking through him sharply, each wave causing his hips to twitch. Oscar slammed in a few more times before stilling inside him. He realised he never used a condom. He supposed they were both tested by the same team. 

When Oscar pulled out, he let Lando collapse onto the sofa fully, panting deeply as the wet wipes were retrieved from the table. Oscar cleaned him up quickly, tucking himself into his trousers and zipping them up before pulling Lando's shorts back up around his hips and patting him on the shoulder like he had just beat him at a game of uno.

Lando heard the door open, still face down on the sofa and trembling slightly in his post orgasm haze. 

"It's all sorted now, Lan. Papaya rules, you know that."