"You know,” Max starts, phone in his hand like he just read something marvellous he needs to share with Lando. Max had told just him about the stream where he read fanfics, but he hadn’t told Lando what exactly he read. Lando doesn’t know if he really wants to know, to be honest, but on the other hand, he’s also really, really curious.
Max looks up to see if Lando’s looking at him, then goes back to looking at his phone, “The fans think you're into getting eaten out on the kitchen counter. Someone wrote that you’re 'all leaking and messy, begging for Max'." Max chuckles, then sits down onto the couch, cross-legged, scrolling through his phone again as if the conversation is over.
Lando frowns, swallows, then says, "What... Do you mean?” He scratches his eyebrow, “What am I supposed to do with this information?" He hopes he sounds nonchalant.
Max shrugs, he doesn’t look at Lando but it’s clear he’s not paying attention to what’s happening on his phone either, "'M just saying, you do look like someone who'd beg."
Lando coughs, “Excuse me?”
Max shrugs again, not meeting Lando’s eye as if the conversation has come to a natural end. It hasn’t, but Lando can’t find anything to say either. He walks to the kitchen and grabs himself a glass of water. A mistake, with this new information fresh in his mind. He looks at the counter, horrified, and thinks, how does anyone have sex on this? That can’t be comfortable. He decides to remove it from his mind entirely and stop contemplating it.
It takes him a few weeks to snap. Quite a long time, considering Lando wears his heart on his sleeve and rarely keeps things from Max, but he had to workshop this into his brain and think of scenarios before just dropping it onto Max. He spent several hours looking at the kitchen counter thinking, I’d never. Slowly, the I’d-never turned into but-what-if, and it hasn’t left him alone since.
"Max, can I ask you to do something?" He just blurts out, figuring it’d be best to just rip that bandaid off once.
"Depends."
"Well- okay that- that's fair,” Lando chuckles, shuffling his feet, “Well, remember when you mentioned those fanfics?"
".....Yes."
Lando is silent, just staring at Max as Max stares back.
"Oh," Max blinks a few times, the penny dropping.
"I... haven’t been able to stop thinking about it," Lando blushes, avoiding Max's gaze.
"I bet, hmm." Max stands up, moving closer to Lando. Lando is leaning against the kitchen counter in question. Max's breath is warm and seductive when he says, "Every time I’m making dinner, you're just staring, wondering what it'd be like if I bent you over, huh?"
Lando whines.
"Well, shame you'll never find out." Max moves to step away, grinning that this is a bit, something fun.
Lando reaches out, grabbing Max's hoodie and pulling him close, "What if– what if I asked you to do that, though?"
Max chokes on air, till now he thought it was a joke. His voice is a tad strained when he asks, "Are you gonna beg for it?"
Lando scoffs, "I’m not gonna say please or whatever, I’m just asking you if you would be, you know, willing... to do that"
Max smirks, "If you're not gonna say please, I guess you'll never find out."
He moves away once more, but Lando uses his strength to keep him in place. He pushes his hips flush against Max's, hands so tight on Max's hips, it's bound to leave bruises.
They're silent for a minute or two.
Lando's heartbeat is through the roof and he's breathing a bit heavily. Pulling Max flush against him wasn't the best of his decisions, he feels how he's growing harder under Max's gaze.
He inhales shakily, then says, "It would be messy, but I’ll clean it up."
"You'll clean it up? Do you even know where the cleaning stuff is?"
"Oh, shut up" Lando smiles, happy to break the tension for a second or two, "I’ve cleaned stuff up before"
"Like what?"
"I-" Lando swallows.
Max moves closer to Lando's ear, "Hmm, talk dirty to me about all the things you cleaned, what a wonderful paradox." He gets his hands beside Lando's hips, effectively bracketing him against the counter.
"Maybe I jerked off here to see what it's like." Lando aimed to make it sound like a joke, but he’s too honest, and Max notices.
"You did what?" Max moves back, looking at Lando but Lando won't meet his eye. Max gets a hand on Lando's chin to get Lando to look at him.
"I couldn't stop thinking about it, okay! It's not just something you drop that I can forget about.”
"Clearly."
Lando's grip on Max's hip falters, "Ugh, never mind, you forget about this. You're not into it anyway." He feels hopeless, Max is giving him nothing. He tries to move away but Max pins him harder against the counter, hand on Lando's chin moving to twirl his fingers into Lando's curls and tug to hold him into place. Lando lets a moan escape before he realises. Goddamn, that’s hot.
"Who says I’m not into it?" Max rolls his hips against Lando's, and Lando feels how Max is growing hard too. He takes pride in knowing that he did that. "I’m just waiting for you to say the magic word."
Lando clears his throat, then puts on a higher voice, just to be a brat, "Oh dear sir Fewtrell, take me over this kitchen counter, the place we spend many hours making food, let me be your dinner." Lando chuckles, Max giggles, then shakes his head, and he's coming closer to Lando's. They're laughing against each other's mouths now, and suddenly they're kissing. Lando would say Max kissed him, Max would probably say Lando gave in, but really, they met in the middle.
The kiss gets heated, Max uses his hand on Lando's face to angle him right, and they slot together flawlessly. Lando rolls his hips against Max's, and Max gets his hands on Lando's hips to move him to sit on the counter. This is suddenly so much better because they feel even closer to each other.
Lando gets his hands under Max's hoodie (it's Lando's hoodie, but their closet mended to one whole at this point), touching his skin, fingers exploring to get under Max's waistband.
Max pulls back slightly, whispering, "You sure you want this?"
"Yeah," Lando huffs, he didn’t expect to come this far, but he’s also only now wonderwing why the hell they didn’t do it sooner. He’s missed making out so much, and Max is amazing, perfect, they live together, why not make the most of it? "I’m sure. You?"
"God, Lando. I’ve been–"
"Been what?"
"Nothin', just, thought about you before."
"Before you read the fanfics?"
"Way before, mate." He sighs, "It's just– you're you, and I never thought I’d get to have you. I- it's– I-"
"Is okay, Max. I’m here, all for you. I’ve been oblivious before, but, I see you now. Better than ever." He kisses Max's nose, "Now will you get on with it?"
“Have you ever done this before? Like, anything?” Max asks, voice a bit worried.
Lando bites his lip, “Some things, yeah.”
“You’re being vague.”
Lando rolls his hips against Max’s and pinches the skin of his tummy, “Shut up, I’m not thinking straight, okay. I haven’t been thinking straight ever since you told me about those stupid fanfics.”
“Hmm bet I’ve been making it real hard for you to think straight.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Lando smirks, peeking through his eyelashes to ask, “What about you?”
Max just smirks, “Guess you’re gonna find out, huh?”
“You’re a disaster,” Lando says, then: “Kiss me again.”
Max giggles, breath huffing against Lando's neck, "What's the magic word?"
"I'm not saying-"
Max bites Lando's skin, right where his neck meets his shoulder, sucking a mark. Lando moans, gripping any of Max's skin to hold, nails digging into his tummy. Max's free hand moves to Lando's hard on to cup him through his jeans and it's so much– Max is everywhere, touching him saying these things.
Lando mutters, "Please, Max, please-"
"What was that?"
Lando bites his lip and gives in, "Please eat me out."
"Good boy," Max smirks, "So good for me." He swipes his tongue over the hickey he left on Lando’s skin, soothing the bite.
Lando moves him back and takes off his shirt, throwing it into the void of their kitchen. His hands find Max’s hips again, as if he’s never close enough. His heart is beating so fucking loudly, he thinks Max might be able to hear it. He thinks their neighbours can hear it, that’s how loud. His fingers shake a bit, but he tries to keep them steady around the elastic of Max’s waistband.
“Lando,” Max murmurs, his eyes serious as he looks into Lando’s, “Are you sure-sure? Should we, I dunno, talk about this?”
“We will,” Lando takes a deep breath and smiles, “But not when I’m painfully hard, mate. Fucking hell.”
Max smirks as he kisses Lando’s jaw. He licks Lando’s earlobe, “What was that word again, you said? Six letters, starting with a P…”
“This is getting to your head, it’s such a bad idea, I-”
“Six letters, Lando.”
Lando runs his hands through his own curls, grounding himself, looking at Max’s eyes. He takes a deep breath, aware he’s never gonna get what he’s asking for if he keeps resisting.
“Please.”
In one swift move, Max drags Lando off the counter, swirling him around. A steady hand on Lando’s shoulder blades bends him over. He follows, plying in Max’s hold, trusting his friend to take care of him. The counter digs into his tummy, but it’s not all too uncomfortable.
Max kisses his back, a trail over his spine. His mouth is warm, a stark contrast with the cold counter.
Lando shivers, whining.
Max’s fingers fidget under Lando’s waistband, slowly dragging the skin down, as if waiting for Lando to stop him.
Lando doesn’t stop him.
When Lando’s joggers and underwear meet the ground, Max’s touch vanishes for a second or two. Lando takes a breath to try and regain some sanity, to take in everything that is happening, that this is all really happening, and not a wet dream or whatever. He’s just about to look around to see what happened to Max when he feels Max’s lips against his arse, kissing it softly, then nastily turning into a bite.
“Aahhhh,” Lando moans, not used to the feeling of someone’s lips there. No matter how much he might think or dream of this happening, it’s nothing compared to the real deal. It’s so weird to have someone there, to have Max there.
“Are you clean?” Max asks, his hands covering Lando’s arse, spreading the cheeks.
Lando rolls his eyes into the back of his head at the feeling of Max’s strong hands on him. He swallows audibly. Only when Max stops does he realise Max asked a question. He mutters, “Yeah, yeah, I prepared in the shower, in– in case…” He trails off, Max’s hands back to massaging his arse.
Max huffs out an appreciative laugh, “Not what I meant, but okay.”
“I-” Lando chuckles, “I get tested left and right on everything, I’m clean, I promise.”
He feels rather than sees Max smile, right before Max kisses his cheeks again, pushing Lando onto the counter a bit more. Lando breathes out, relaxing. He asked for this and he’s getting what he wants, what he dreamt of. He trusts Max more than anyone.
The feeling of the flat of Max’s tongue against his hole is absurd. It’s something he’s not used to, something he’s never felt before. It’s not unwelcome, per se – his tongue is warm and wet – but it’s weird. He takes in a shaky breath.
Max licks the crack of his arse again, from Lando’s taint to his hole, wetting the skin, and getting to work. The way he goes about this suggests he’s done it before, or at least seen enough porn about it to know what he’s doing. Lando is nothing if not thoroughly impressed.
When Max licks around his rim, Lando moans so loud – it echoes back all the way over their kitchen. Max chuckles fondly, then vanishes from his arse entirely.
Immediately, Lando misses him. Worried, he mutters, “Max– please, Max–”
He’s aware he’s lost all sense of self control and dignity as he begs and begs, but he can’t help himself anymore. The mere feeling of Max’s tongue on him has driven him out of his fucking mind and he can tell he’s getting so addicted.
“Jesus,” Max’s voice sounds fond, “I’m not going anywhere, trust me, okay?”
“I do, I do,” Lando regains himself, reminding himself that he should trust Max, that Max will take care of him, he knows how to.
“Do, uh,” Max hesitates, “Do you have any plans, erm, tomorrow or the day after?”
“Why?” Lando mutters, slightly confused.
“Well, your skin might be red, uh, when I’m done. And maybe a bit bruised,” Max moves closer to Lando’s lower back, squeezing his cheeks at the same time as he sucks the skin. After Lando’s moan, he muses, “You might not be exactly PR-material, you know.”
Lando throws his head into his hands, clinging to his own curls. He’s gonna be mentally and physically ruined and he’s so fucking ready for it. He can’t find any responses in his mind, everything silent except for one six-letter word.
“Please.”
Max smirks, shifting around a bit to get better access to Lando’s arse, “Good boy.” And that’s when Lando feels it – Max’s beard on his skin. Max rubs his beard onto Lando’s ever so sensitive skin, his thighs, his arse, everything. It burns but it burns good and Lando whines again. Hands flexing on the counter, gripping to anything he can hold. He reaches the other end of the counter and holds onto it. On the occasional glance he can spare away from squeezing his eyes shut, he sees how white his knuckles are.
Max is merciless, scratching Lando’s skin, knowing what he’s doing and how it’s driving Lando insane. He licks Lando’s rim some more, wetting the skin even better before fucking his tongue in.
Lando absolutely wails Max’s name.
A soft chuckle against his skin before Max fucks him with his tongue again. The sensation is unusual, but Lando is so hypnotized – he feels like he’s floating. Only the feeling of Max’s tongue and hands are on his mind. He pushes his hips back, trying to get Max’s tongue deeper inside him, wanting more and more.
“Ready?” Max asks, after a bit of just him fucking Lando’s rim.
Lando frowns, “Yeah- for, for what?”
Max just kisses his tailbone. One of his fingers slowly slides into Lando’s hole, it feels wet and warm, like Max sucked on it before fucking Lando with it. Lando’s back arches off the counter, “Ooohhh!” He moans. He’s fucked himself on his fingers a handful (hah) of times before, but someone else doing it is so much better. He never got what the hype of fingering was about, until now. Max’s finger swirls around inside him while he kisses the back of Lando’s thighs, leaving not a bit of his skin within reach untouched.
“Please, Max, more– give me–” Lando begs, fully unashamed.
“Patience,” Max says, and yet gets a second finger in. He moves his fingers inside of Lando, exploring everything bit by bit. Like he’s searching for something, like he–
A wave of excitement crashes over Lando, rippling all over his spine and rearranging his guts. He grips the table even harder and screams Max’s name so goddamn loudly. It feels like his entire world got reinvented, the concept of touch got reinvented. It feels like he’s a new man inside his body. His back arches, and he breaks a piece of his nail by gripping the counter so tightly.
Max stills behind him, waiting for Lando to readjust and get back to planet earth.
Lando groans out, “What the fuck, mate!” It’s like something he’s never felt before.
The grin is audible in Max’s voice, “Ready for more?”
Lando nods, Lando’s never nodded harder and faster in his life.
Max kisses Lando’s lower back, “I need you to say it, Lan.”
“Yes, please– anything,” Lando immediately begs, no longer thinking of stopping what he wants, since Max is ready to give him anything.
Max rubs around that spot again and Lando feels like he’s going insane. It’s building up in his belly, arousal pooling low and heating his skin from the inside.
Lando’s toes are curling so hard, it hurts. His nail is bleeding but he can’t find himself to care. His entire body is zooming in on the feeling – on what Max is doing, touching that spot over and over again, circling his skin. It’s a direct wire to his brain, to his spine, to his entire nerve system.
“Wha– what’s happening to me?” Lando asks, looking down and seeing come leak from his cock, onto the kitchen counter, smearing against the hard surface. “Ahh!” Lando screams, and he feels like he’s coming, like Max snapped at his seams and he burst freely.
Max slows his fingers down, kissing Lando’s shoulder, “You okay?” He slips his fingers out of Lando and massages his hips, soothing him.
Lando looks down at the counter, himself, and says, “I feel like– like I came, so hard, but– I’m still…?”
Max’s smile is knowing and soft, “You never had a prostate orgasm before?”
Lando’s legs shake as he turns around, hand immediately finding Max’s shoulder, “A what?”
“Oh, baby,” Max kisses Lando’s jawline, then whispers against the shell of his ear, “There’s so much I can show you. Go on, lay on the couch. Wait for me, I’ll be right back.”
Lando gulps and nods, following whatever Max asks of him. He lays on the couch, cock achingly hard and begging for attention. His thighs are shiny with Max’s spit and his own come, he doesn’t know what the fuck happened, but he’s never felt so fucking good before. He wants to touch himself, but he feels like he isn’t allowed to. He’ll never be able to touch himself the way Max touches him, anyways. It’s like a whole new thing all together when Max does it. He pins his own wrists above his head, waiting for Max to come back.
When Max’s footsteps enter the living room again, Lando can’t help but search for him immediately. He looks at his best friend, the man that just made him come his brains out in a way he’s never come before. And they’ve been living together for months now. They’ve known each other for years.
Max freezes when he sees Lando laying on the couch. He does a shameless full body check of Lando. Lando doesn’t miss the way Max gulps, he feels a wave of pride wash over him.
Max shows the bottle of lube in his left hand and the condom in his right. He crawls in between Lando’s legs, fingers tracing silk-like lines over Lando’s red and purple skin, almost as if he can’t believe that he’s the one who’s done that.
Lando hisses, fingers twitching with the need to reach out and touch Max, touch his skin, touch the tent in his joggers. Max’s gaze flicks up at him for a second and he smirks, a sinful smirk full of promises and desire. He seems proud of Lando, how he’s holding up, how he’s keeping his arms away from Max, how he’s ready to beg.
“Max, I swear, if you don’t get naked in the next ten seconds I’m kicking you out.”
“Who’s gunna eat you out over the kitchen counter then, huh?” Max bends over to whisper in Lando’s ear, “Who’s gunna make all those fanfics come to life?” Max licks the shell of Lando’s ear, then nibbles his earlobe, “Who’s gunna make you beg?” Lando can’t hide how affected he is by this side of Max, this dominant man who knows what he’s doing – he shivers and whines.
Max’s hands spread Lando’s legs for him, fingers explorative as they find their way in between Lando’s legs. It’s awkward for him to find his hole and properly fuck him – he’s not as accesiible as he was bent over the counter – but he makes do. Lando’s glad he can look at Max this time, look at Max as he fucks Lando senseless. Max inserts one, quickly two lubed fingers. It feels smoother than it did a second ago, Lando’s chest isn’t as tight as it was when Max ate him out. He might also be falling into the familiarity of it all, already. This is a thing they’ve done now, and Lando doubts it’ll be the last time. It’s just so easy with Max – like everything is. They always find ways around each other, to work together, to joke together, and now, to have sex together.
Lando pants, he feels the warmth in his belly, a clench in his balls, “Max– please, I can’t hold–” He’s so close to coming and Max isn’t even inside him yet, “I’m gonna–”
“No.”
Lando freezes and looks up at Max. Max has an eyebrow raised, cocky, authoritative.
“Wh- what?” Lando breathes.
“You’re gonna be a good boy and take my fingers as I stretch you open, and you’re not gonna come until I’m inside you.” Max says simply, as if he’s listing who’s gonna clean the house where. As if this is the most normal thing ever. His voice is slightly hoarse, so Lando takes that as a compliment – Max is affected by this after all.
Lando fucking whines again.
Max inserts another finger, Lando writhes in his hold, eyes squeezed shut, trying to hold for just a bit longer.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” Max whispers appreciatively. In his horny haze, Lando thinks he wasn’t allowed to hear it, that Max was just talking to himself – but Lando did hear it. He blushes, the warmth spreading from his cheeks all over his chest.
“Okay,” Max hums, removing his fingers. Lando watches with wide eyes how Max shuffles out of his joggers and underwear and reaches to the coffee table to grab the condom. There’s a wet spot on his joggers and Lando thinks maybe this was a lesson in patience for both himself and for Max. He thinks Max might’ve been afraid that if he didn’t drag this out, Lando would forget about him and never initiate something like this again. That it was just a curiosity now fulfilled, but it’s more than that – it’s also about trust, about wanting each other, about finally breaking through this thin layer of friends and onto this newly discovered phase in their lives. Lando doesn’t know what they are right now, but they’ll have enough time figuring that out later on.
For now, he’s just transfixed on Max’s delicate fingers touching the wrapper of the condom. The briefest of thought passes in his mind to reach out and stop Max from wrapping the condom around his dick, to let Max fuck him bare. But if this is a door now opened to a whole new world of possibilities, he’s determined to take this step by step. Max can fuck him bare on their vacation in Dubai instead.
Max takes a deep breath and Lando is so ready for him to fill him all the way up. He hesitates, asking, “Are you sure?”
“Oh, fuck off and fuck me already.” Lando groans needy.
“Where’d your manners go?” Max leans down, pressing a kiss to Lando’s jawline, “One word… six letters…”
Lando arches his back, wrapping his arms around Max’s shoulders. He opens his mouth, a smirk giving away that it’s about to be a teasing remark.
Max’s hand shoots to Lando’s mouth, “And if you dare make a joke, I’m leaving you here.”
Lando gulps.
Max removes his hand, eyes stern on Lando’s mouth.
Lando nods, “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please, sir.”
Max’s eyes widen and he chokes on air for a second, not expecting that. When Lando first called him sir Fewtrell it was obviously a joke, but the shine in Lando’s eyes makes it clear he’s genuine, he’s real, he’s begging. Max grabs a hold of his dick, now covered in lube, to slowly push into Lando.
Lando’s back arches further than he ever thought was possible, offering his body all the way up to Max, and he moans so fucking loudly. He feels so full, Max’s thick dick filling him up is something he’s never felt before. It feels so fucking good, he feels so fucking good.
Lando digs his nails into Max’s shoulders, “Fuuuckk, fuck, fuck!”
Max’s hands grab Lando’s hips in a bruising hold, “Goddamn, Lando.” He takes a second to center himself, to get used to the feeling of being all the way inside his best friend.
“Hmgf– move, please, sir.”
“God– anything,” Max swallows before sliding out and in of Lando again, building up a rhythm that keeps both men on edge but doesn’t push them over. He can’t hold it for long though, and neither can Lando. He tosses Lando the lube, “Touch yourself, come for me.”
“Ah!” Lando jerks himself off, not needing a lot before he’s coming all over his own chest, his hole clenching down on Max.
Max grunts and groans, he’s so fucking close, he’s fucking throbbing inside Lando.
Lando reaches out, disgustingly lube- and come-covered hands curling around Max’s neck and pulling him close. He kisses Max with all the love in his heart and feels how Max fucks into him once, twice more before coming. Max breathes into Lando’s mouth and falls atop him, holding him close.
They take a second to catch their breaths, letting the hunger fade from their veins and adjusting to this world of new possibilities. Or, well, the world’s always been there. They only just discovered it.
Lando scratches Max’s scalp, holding him like he’s a precious piece of porcelain. Max has his arms wrapped around Lando’s waist and doesn’t seem to be planning on moving anytime soon. Lando huffs, “I’m not gonna call you sir, like, regularly. For the record.”
Max giggles, which sets Lando off to giggle with him, and thus they spend their time happy and warm in the afterglow, giggling about the absurdity of this whole situation.
“I was right though,,” Max says, after a few minutes, “You are someone who begs.”
“Shut uupp,” Lando groans, “I’ve never done that before.”
“Shush, admit it, you are someone who begs.”
“I begged, sure.” Lando stretches his arms above his head, not missing how Max’s eyes skirt over his biceps.
“Hm, I’m pretty convinced I can get you to beg again.”
“You can also just admit you like reading fanfics, Max. That’s a lot easier.” Lando boops Max’s nose, smiling.
“I’ll check the tag more often, see what they write about us.”
“Yeah, maybe you should.”
Lando kisses Max again, smiling, curious – he can’t wait for Max’s next idea.