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The hotel room in Miami still smelled like rain and circuit rubber even though the race had ended hours ago. The air-con hummed low, fighting the thick tropical humidity that always managed to seep inside. Lando Norris paced near the window, still in his team polo and race suit bottoms, hair damp from the shower. His alpha scent, bright citrus and burnt sugar, sharp with leftover race adrenaline, rolled off him in restless waves.
Oscar Piastri sat on the edge of their king-sized bed, legs crossed, wearing nothing but soft grey sweatpants and one of Lando’s oversized hoodies. The omega’s scent was calmer, warmer: fresh linen and subtle vanilla, with the faintest trace of something sweeter when he was relaxed. Right now it carried a faint edge of frustration. Oscar’s hands rested quietly in his lap, fingers laced, the picture of composed calm even as his cheeks held a faint flush.
The argument had started small. It almost always started out small with them.
“You undercut me on lap 37,” Lando said, voice tight but not yet shouting. “I had the pace. You saw the gap. Why the hell didn’t you let me through when the team asked?”
Oscar’s gaze stayed steady, brown eyes meeting Lando’s green ones without flinching. “Because the team didn’t actually ask. They radioed ‘hold position’ to both of us. You just assumed it meant me giving way. Again.” His voice was even, almost gentle, the way it always was, quiet Australian lilt softening the edges. “I’m not your brake tester, Lando. We’re teammates. Fucking equals.”
Lando stopped pacing, running a hand through his curls. “Equals? Mate, I’m the one who’s been here longer. I’ve got the experience. You’re still basically the rookie who-”
“I’m not a rookie anymore,” Oscar cut in, calm but firm. He stood up slowly, the hoodie slipping off one shoulder to reveal the smooth line of his collarbone. “And I’m tired of you treating every battle like I owe you the position just because you’re louder about it. Sure, this team might belong to you more than it does to me right now, but for how long will that last Lando? It almost seems as if you didn't care about anything else but that fuckass papaya team.”
The words landed heavier than Oscar probably intended. Lando’s scent spiked, citrus turning sharp, almost bitter. He stepped closer, alpha instincts flaring at the challenge even though his heart twisted at the hurt flickering behind Oscar’s careful expression.
“You think I don’t care about you?” Lando’s voice cracked with frustration and something deeper. “I do. Fuck, I care so much it scares me sometimes. But on track I have to be selfish. That’s racing.”
Oscar’s shoulders dropped a fraction, the calm mask slipping just enough to show the exhaustion underneath. He cared too, deeply, quietly, in the way he always checked Lando’s data after sessions, left protein bars in his helmet bag, or let his scent linger on Lando’s pillows when they shared rooms. But right now the weight of being the steady one, the one who swallowed his own ambitions for team harmony, pressed on him.
“I know you care,” Oscar said softly. “But sometimes it feels like you only see me as the omega who’s supposed to yield. Like I’m here to support your narrative, not race my own.” He exhaled, voice dropping even quieter. “I can’t stand it, Lando. I can’t stand feeling like I’m always the one who has to step back. I feel like I can't even stand you-”
The room went still. Oscar’s words hung there. 'I can’t stand it' and something in Lando’s chest twisted hard. His impulsive brain, the one that never thought before speaking, short-circuited.
Without thinking, without filtering, Lando blurted out, “Then sit on my face.”
Silence.
Oscar blinked. Once. Twice. His calm expression cracked into pure surprise, cheeks flushing a deep pink that spread down his neck. “What?”
Lando’s own eyes widened as the words caught up with him. His face burned. “I- um, fuck, I didn’t mean- wait, no, I did mean it, but not like- shit.” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, alpha scent now swirling with embarrassment and sudden, desperate want. “You said you can’t stand me, right? So… sit on my face. Shut me up. Use me. Whatever you need. Just… don’t walk away thinking I don’t want you exactly as you are. That's what I meant I guess...”
Oscar stared at him for a long moment, the shy omega who rarely initiated anything bold suddenly faced with the most direct, ridiculous, and strangely caring offer Lando had ever made. Lando’s heart hammered. He expected Oscar to laugh it off, or blush harder and change the subject, or tell him to stop being an idiot or perhaps just argue harder.
Instead, Oscar’s scent shifted, vanilla warming, turning sweeter, a hint of slick already threading through the air. His eyes darkened, not with anger but with something quieter, deeper. Caring, always caring, but now laced with shy determination.
“Okay,” Oscar said simply.
Lando’s brain genuinely turned off for a second. “Wait- seriously?”
Oscar nodded, stepping closer until they were inches apart. His hand came up to rest on Lando’s chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat there. “You’re impulsive and loud and sometimes you drive me insane on track. But you’re also the one who makes sure I eat after bad sessions and who holds me when the media gets too much.” His voice stayed soft, almost shy, but his fingers curled into Lando’s shirt. “If sitting on your face is how you want to prove you see me… then I’m doing it.”
Lando swallowed hard, cock already twitching in his sweats. “Fuck, Osc. You’re really going to?”
Oscar’s lips twitched in the smallest, shy smile. “Yeah. Take your clothes off and lie down.”
The alpha in Lando wanted to growl and take control, but the caring part, the part that was stupidly in love with this calm, reserved omega, won out. He stripped fast, nearly tripping over his own trousers in his haste, then climbed onto the bed and lay on his back, head toward the pillows. His cock stood hard and leaking against his stomach, knot already faintly swelling at the base from the sheer anticipation.
Oscar watched him, cheeks still pink, but he moved with deliberate care. He peeled off the hoodie first, revealing smooth, lean back muscle and the faint scent glands at his neck that were starting to throb. Then the sweatpants, sliding them down slender hips until he was completely bare. His own cock was half-hard, curving gently, and between his legs his hole was already glistening with the first hints of slick.
Lando’s mouth watered. “Osc… you’re so fucking pretty.”
Oscar climbed onto the bed, knees bracketing Lando’s shoulders. He hesitated for a second, shy even now, before Lando reached up and gently gripped his thighs.
“I’ve got you,” Lando said, voice rough but tender. “Come here. Let me taste you.”
Oscar lowered himself slowly, carefully, until his slick folds hovered just above Lando’s waiting mouth. The first brush of heat and wetness against Lando’s lips drew a groan from deep in the alpha’s chest. Oscar’s scent was stronger here, vanilla and slick and pure omega need.
“fucking sit properly,” Lando mumbled against his skin. “Don’t hover. I want all of you.”
Oscar exhaled shakily and let his weight settle. Lando’s tongue immediately dragged broad and flat from Oscar’s hole up to his cock, collecting slick like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Oscar gasped, hands flying to the headboard for balance. His thighs trembled but he stayed calm, breathing steady even as pleasure sparked through him.
Lando didn’t hold back. He licked and sucked with messy enthusiasm, tongue fucking into Oscar’s clenching hole, lips sealing around the sensitive rim, nose buried in the soft skin above. Every moan Oscar let out was quiet, controlled, but his hips started to rock in tiny, shy movements, chasing the heat of Lando’s mouth. Oscar never particularly liked loud sex, but from time to time he let himself go more. He knew Lando liked the praise.
“Fuck, Lando,” Oscar whispered, voice breathy. One hand left the headboard to thread gently through Lando’s curls, not pulling, just holding. Caring even while he rode the alpha’s face. “You’re… so good at this.”
Lando hummed in response, the vibration making Oscar jolt. Slick coated Lando’s chin, his cheeks, dripping down his neck as Oscar’s body responded. The omega’s cock leaked steadily onto Lando’s tongue whenever he tilted his head to suck it too. Lando’s own cock throbbed untouched, knot swelling fuller, but he ignored it. This was about Oscar, about proving with his mouth and his hands on those strong thighs that he saw him, wanted him, respected him.
Oscar’s breathing grew heavier, still quiet but faster. His hips rolled with more confidence now, grinding down in slow, deliberate circles. “Like that- right there,” he murmured, the shy edge giving way to soft commands. “Deeper. Use your tongue inside me.”
Lando obeyed instantly, spearing his tongue as deep as he could, fucking Oscar with it while his nose rubbed against the omega’s cock. Oscar’s thighs tightened around his head, the pressure perfect and grounding. The calm omega was losing his composure in the most beautiful way, small whimpers escaping, slick flowing freely, body trembling with building pleasure.
Lando’s hands slid up to cup Oscar’s ass, spreading him wider, thumbs brushing the slick rim as his tongue worked. He could feel Oscar’s hole fluttering, clenching greedily. The alpha purred deep in his chest, the sound muffled but unmistakable.
Oscar’s hand tightened in Lando’s hair. “I’m close- Lando, I’m-!”
He didn’t shout. Oscar never straigh up shouted. He came with a soft, broken gasp, thighs clamping around Lando’s head as his cock pulsed, spilling warm cum across Lando’s tongue and lips. His hole spasmed, more slick gushing out, and Lando drank every drop, licking him through it with gentle, caring strokes until Oscar was shivering with overstimulation.
Only then did Oscar lift himself on shaky legs, sliding down Lando’s body until he straddled the alpha’s hips. His eyes were soft, cheeks flushed, a small shy smile on his face as he looked down at the mess he’d made of Lando’s face.
“You’re ridiculous,” Oscar said quietly, voice warm with affection. He leaned down and kissed Lando slow and deep, tasting himself on the alpha’s tongue. “Impulsive idiot.”
Lando grinned against his lips, hands coming up to cradle Oscar’s waist, thumbs stroking soothing circles. His voice was hoarse from use. “Yeah, but you sat on my face anyway. So… worth it?”
Oscar huffed a quiet laugh, nuzzling into Lando’s neck where the alpha’s scent gland was throbbing. “Yeah. Worth it.” He reached between them, wrapping careful fingers around Lando’s aching cock. “Now let me take care of you.”
Lando’s breath hitched as Oscar guided Landos cock inside of himself, slow, wet slide into tight, slick heat. They both groaned. Oscar settled fully, hips flush, and started rocking in that calm, deliberate way of his, taking what he needed while giving Lando everything.
No more fighting. Just the two of them, moving together like they were made for this.
Lando’s knot caught on every downstroke, swelling until it locked them together with a shared moan. He wrapped his arms around Oscar, holding him close as they rode the waves of pleasure, scents mingling into something perfect and undeniable.
“I see you,” Lando whispered against Oscar’s temple, voice raw. “All of you. On track and off. I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise.”
Oscar pressed a kiss to his jaw, gentle as always. “I know. And I love you for it. I love you so so flipping much. Even when you’re an idiot who tells me to sit on your face mid-argument.”
Lando laughed, the sound turning into a groan as Oscar clenched around his knot. “Love you too, Osc. So fucking much.”
They stayed locked like that for long minutes, trading soft kisses and quiet words, the fight forgotten in the warmth of bodies and care and the kind of bond that didn’t need grand gestures, just impulsive honesty and a willingness to sit exactly where you were told.
When the knot finally went down, Oscar curled against Lando’s chest, calm and sated, one hand resting over the alpha’s heart.
“Next time we argue,” Oscar murmured sleepily, “maybe try talking first.”
Lando grinned into his hair. “Or you could just sit on my face again. I’m good with either.”
Oscar’s quiet laugh was the last thing either of them heard before sleep took them, wrapped in each other and the steady rhythm of two hearts that had finally found their balance.