lanjohnn
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"Lando." Oscar sighed. He took one tentative step closer to Lando, trapping him between the fence and a hard gaze. "You're a sweet kid, really. You're bright and funny and charming. Undeniably good-looking, of course, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed that."
That smile from earlier etched its way back onto his face, and Lando reached out to touch Oscar. Fingertips brushing over bare forearms, and oh, Oscar's skin was so warm. "I'd be lying if I said I don't like hearing that," he replied cheekily, tilting his head back against the fence to look up at Oscar.
"But."
"No buts." Desperately, Lando's hands reached further up, clawing into Oscar's shirt and pulling him closer. "We don't need buts. You fancy me, I fancy you, this is perfect!"
Oscar resisted the pull. Grabbed Lando's wrists in two gentle but firm holds and pulled the hands away from his shoulders. "Unfortunately, there are buts whether you need them or not, Lando. You're very sweet, and I really appreciate this, but I'm 38 years old, kid. And how old are you again?"
"22, but what does that matter?"
Series
- Part 8 of julie's landoscar fics
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 41,836
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
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- Kudos:
- 217
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Bookmarked by lanjohnn
18 Jul 2026
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Summary
Lando loves making the crown prince laugh. It’s his favorite sight, his favorite sound. And too often than not, he wonders what that pale skin would feel like against his fingertips.
Under the tutelage of a new confidant posing as the most venerated jester of his time, he finds himself a hair’s width away.
Bookmarked by lanjohnn
12 May 2026