sprinttotheend
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- Formula 1 RPF (4)
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He’s tall, is the first thought that flashes through Lando’s brain when he lays eyes on Oscar Piastri. It shouldn’t be a surprise, most men are taller than Lando, but all the same he finds his eyes catching on the width of Oscar’s shoulders, the couple inches that separate them.
He’s also, as a first impression, very eh. Not in like a bad way, just neutral.
“So you’re my new Aussie?” are the words that come out of his mouth.
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Max didn’t see it coming. Didn’t know Charles was that serious with someone. And now the news is everywhere.
[Charles returns for the new F1 season with a mating mark on his neck so fresh his skin still looks raw.]
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“You’ll thank Max for me, yeah?” Carlos asks, still catching his breath. His hand wanders and he thumbs over where Charles is swollen and used before giving one last pat to the back of his thigh.
Charles’ already red face heats with a fresh pulse of humiliation. He nods his head instead of speaking. Slowly, he gets himself turned around, trying to avoid the largest of the mess. Carlos is raking a hand through his own dark locks and looking at Charles thoughtfully, almost ruefully. “I can never make you come without bringing him up,” he comments.
His stomach swoops and he reaches for a nearby towel, something to put over his lap for the moment. He tentatively nods while picking at a thread in the hem of the towel before wincing and saying, “I know.”
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Logan on his knees for Fernando.