antimonyandthyme

[antimonyandthyme]

fascinated by how i will go w h a t at carlos's bare chest and also w h a t at oscar just wearing a shirt because in oscar's world a freshly ironed shirt is equivalent to showing exactly what carlos is showing with a freshly waxed chest and anyway, all this to say that this too

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Inhaling the rib like a winner👍

(request from @syzygyofeureka thanks!!!♡)

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good lord

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carlossainz55 😉

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How to live with oscat🐱

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And they were roommates...

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formula 1 + text posts [5/?]

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Carlos Sainz (Canadian GP - June 12, 2025) 📷 Minas Panagiotakis

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Hm

Hmm

Hmmm

Hmmmm

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teto’s canada photo dump 📸

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his cutieful smile after hearing a man yell te quiero at him 🥰

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Canadian GP | 15 June 2025

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not a clue where this carcar phone sex came from but wow does it impress. beautiful stunning LOVE carlos slipping in lowercase

he is being deliberate in his flirting!!!!!!

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They both text—terribly. As if their sentences had their shirttails tucked in and tie all done in a double Windsor. So Oscar made it a point to type it all in lowercase. It seemed an important distinction to make. He was being spontaneous, he was being sexy.

what are you wearing

Eh, eh

That was Carlos’s response. See: terrible.

Oscar waited a full minute.

Eh, I am still in Williams merch

Carlos always typed out the sounds he made as he thought. Eh, ay, ah. Oscar could picture him working his jaw to one side, fiddling with a proper response. The learning curve was still steep when it came to mapping out each other’s edges. Oscar just had to be patient.  

what else? Oscar prompted.

ah, i see

Lowercase too. Good sign.

what else are you wanting me to be wearing?

Bingo. Oscar tried not to appear too excited, thumbs flicking across the screen.

nothing?

oscar, Carlos whined, because Oscar could bloody well hear it. you are not so good at this

pot meet kettle, Oscar shot back mulishly. you are not so good yourself

In response, Carlos sent him a photo. Atrociously taken, blurry and unfocused. But good enough to see the jut of a bare collarbone, and the barest hint of chest hair growing back. Oscar groaned. It wasn’t fair that Carlos could be so bad at sexting and win with just one photo.

okay, and?

don’t be mean, Carlos said. you like that, no?

maybe, Oscar said. take another?

Shit. Carlos had zero ounce of subtlety now that Oscar knew where to look, heart on sleeve, whether he was zoning out in a press conference or staring up at Oscar while Oscar fucked him slow, but his full cock already? No teasing? No begging? Orangey glow this time, like Carlos had made a point to roll off the bed to turn the lights on. Picture-perfect framing.

Oscar contemplated just calling. There was an itch spreading out from underneath his skin that made his priorities scramble. Made him want to inform Mark about a last-minute flight change. He’d pilot the airplane himself if it meant he could fall asleep where Carlos was. Parts of this he was still getting used to, the missing each other most weekdays and the sneaking around and the hotel rooms, which seemed to be the only place they were allowed to contextualize each other in. Oscar hadn’t forgotten that all of it was catastrophically stupid, a spark away from blowing up in his face. But then Carlos had to send him this, cock curved and flushed against his thigh already, like he’d gone from soft to half-hard and wet simply from Oscar asking for another photo.

Carlos picked up mid-second ring.

“Ever heard of taking it slow?”

“Pffffft.” Carlos blew a raspberry, and Oscar tried with minimal success to prevent his own chest from caving in with fondness. “We are drivers, are we not?”

“You usually make me work for it.”

“I don’t like not knowing,” Carlos said quietly. “What you think.”

Oscar was going to choke on the barrage of words fighting their way out of his throat. “Could’ve got myself off just from the first one,” Oscar said. He had no idea how he sounded, nonchalant, very chalant, uncool, or desperate, or a mixture of all of the above. “Ah, so. You don’t have to worry, I think.”

“You think,” Carlos said, amused.

“Shut up,” Oscar muttered. “Are we having phone sex or not?”

“Please,” Carlos said, very serious. “I have been thinking. Ah. Wanting to.”

“Could you.” Oscar cleared his throat. “Touch yourself. And, ah. Let me hear?”

There was a rustle, a shifting, the click of what Oscar assumed was a bottle. Followed by a soft, hungry moan. Oscar let the shiver pass all the way down to the tip of his toes. He squeezed himself at the base, closing his eyes and wishing for a larger hand to envelop his.

“Oscar,” Carlos rasped. “I am thinking. Ah. Imagining.”

“Yeah?” Oscar said. “I am fucking you, huh?”

“Pah,” Carlos said. “Fine, you are fucking me.”

Oscar giggled; he couldn’t help it. My god. They really were terrible at this. “Don’t sound so excited,” he said.

“Ooh,” Carlos said. “So big, Oscar.”

“Asshole,” Oscar said, stroking himself quick.

Carlos sniffed—haughtily? Except his breaths were coming and going too fast for it to be convincing. “You like it,” he said.

“Unfortunately,” Oscar agreed. Somehow, they were arguing and getting each other off at the same time. Probably a worrying statistic, in the hallmark of a sane relationship.

Whatever. It worked for them.

It was over mortifying quickly, and Oscar had to find some way to draw it out, not wanting to hang up yet, not wanting to be the one who said it.

“Eh,” he said. Aw, fuck. He was starting to talk like Carlos. “What do you look like, uh. Now?”

He wanted to picture it, as clear as the soft, white clouds floating in the sky, as clear as the stars settling outside Carlos’s window. It wasn’t something Oscar could ever get used to, the unguardedness in Carlos’s face in the precious moments after he came.

Carlos was silent for a bit. “You want me to go to a mirror?”

“Yeah,” Oscar said. “If you would.”

“If I would,” Carlos mimicked, which made Oscar want to kick him. Kiss him. One of the two. Both. All of it. “Ah, my hair is messy. I put my hand in it. Pretended it was you.”

“Go on,” Oscar said, ribs cracked open.

“I bit my lip too hard when I came,” Carlos said. “Now it’s all red and swollen.”

“No one will be able to tell,” Oscar assured him. “Your lips, Carlos.”

“Yeah?” Carlos was grinning, Oscar was sure of it. “You like them?”

Oscar had to applaud Carlos’s ability to ruin a moment. “I see it’s painfully hard for you to remain sexy.”

“Painful,” Carlos said. “Hard.”

“You suck,” Oscar said rudely.

“You suck,” Carlos said, laughing so hard now he was wheezing.

This was a failure, sure. But Oscar’s face was split open, as if Carlos were next to him, digging his thick fingers physically into Oscar’s mouth to pull it wide into a smile. Surprisingly not a bad feeling, the way they were learning to reach across the space of a thousand kilometres and leave a mark.

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Just leaving this here

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Carlos Sainz and Pierluigi Della Bona (Canadian GP - June 14, 2025) 📷 XPB Images