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sugarcoatednightshade · 10 months

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thinking about how Humans Are Space Orcs stories always talk about how indestructible humans are, our endurance, our ability to withstand common poisons, etc. and thats all well and good, its really fun to read, but it gets repetitive after a while because we aren't all like that.

And that got me thinking about why this trope is so common in the first place, and the conclusion I came to is actually kind of obvious if you think about it. Not everyone is allowed to go into space. This is true now, with the number of physical restrictions placed on astronauts (including height limits), but I imagine it's just as strict in some imaginary future where humans are first coming into contact with alien species. Because in that case there will definitely be military personnel alongside any possible diplomatic parties.

And I imagine that all interactions aliens have ever had up until this point have been with trained personnel. Even basic military troops conform to this standard, to some degree. So aliens meet us and they're shocked and horrified to discover that we have no obvious weaknesses, we're all either crazy smart or crazy strong (still always a little crazy, academia and war will do that to you), and not only that but we like, literally all the same height so there's no way to tell any of us apart.

And Humans Are Death Worlders stories spread throughout the galaxy. Years or decades or centuries of interspecies suspicion and hostilities preventing any alien from setting foot/claw/limb/appendage/etc. on Earth until slowly more beings are allowed to come through. And not just diplomats who keep to government buildings, but tourists. Exchange students. Temporary visitors granted permission to go wherever they please, so they go out in search of 'real terran culture' and what do they find?

Humans with innate heart defects that prevent them from drinking caffeine. Humans with chronic pain and chronic fatigue who lack the boundless endurance humans are supposedly famous for. Humans too tall or too short or too fat to be allowed into space. Humans who are so scared of the world they need to take pills just to function. Humans with IBS who can't stand spicy foods, capsaicin really is poison to them. Lactose intolerance and celiac disease, my god all the autoimmune disorders out there, humans who struggle to function because their own bodies fight them. Humans who bruise easily and take too long to heal. Humans who sustained one too many concussions and now struggle to talk and read and write. Humans who've had strokes. Humans who were born unable to talk or hear or speak, and humans who through some accident lost that ability later.

Aliens visit Earth, and do you know what they find? Humanity, in all its wholeness.

#humans are space orcs #humans in space #earth is a deathworld #earth is space australia #tagging this so that ppl can find it even though the space shit i write about always feels like its in direct opposition to all the pop tag #also my biggest pet peeve in all of writing - all writing. everywhere. not just in fanfic but books and tv and movies too - is when people #write off an injury by saying something like 'oh nothing bad just a couple of scratches some bruising and a minor concussion' like girl WHA #MiNOr ConCuSSioN is such an oxymoron and I hate it so fucking much. like i dont care how minor it was thats still brain damage.#especially when the same character does this more than once. like im sorry ms. but uh. you can no longer read. or talk eloquently. sorry #evidence: my brother has had two 'minor' concussions and now cannot read write or speak without tremendous effort. And like its totally #ruined my ability to watch action shows/movies because now i just sit there and count how many concussions there characters are getting #after a certain point it becomes totally impossible to believe that these guys are able to function. (still fun to watch tho im not a hater

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lost-in-fandoms · 4 months

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This is inspired by my own post. Don't even look at me.

It's a long shot, and Daniel is perfectly aware of it as he rides the elevator up to Max's room, but he refuses to think too hard about it, afraid he will reconsider the sanity of it and turn back.

You see, they used to have this...thing, back in the day. It didn't happen often enough to give a name to it, but when Daniel got pole or won a race, Max would find him and get on his knees for him.

It had started in 2016, Max fresh faced and wide eyed, pulling him into the bathroom of the club they were in. Not in Monaco, not even Max was bold enough for that, but in Malaysia. It had been hot and wet, and Daniel had tangled his fingers in Max's sweaty hair, pulling hard enough to make tears spring in his blue eyes, before coming down his throat.

Their thing had always been one way only. Max had been the one getting on his knees, and Daniel had never offered to get him back. It had been a relief, when Max had started winning more than him, he didn't want to owe blowjobs that often. Not that Max would have hold him to that if Daniel didn't want to, but it would have been a matter of pride, and justice, or whatever.

Daniel has spent a lot of time in the last couple of years thinking about it. Not much about the act itself, even if he has gotten off to the memories of Max's mouth more times than he can count, but about the whole concept of it. He had started wondering if it had been Max's first (debatable, kid had been too sure of himself, but again Max always was), if Max had wanted more (probably, he had seen the looks he would get on his face sometimes), why Max had never tried to talk to him about it. Why Daniel, arguably the more mature of the two, hadn't done it. If Max still thought about it too. If he thought about it as much as Daniel did.

The last time they had done this it had been Monza, in 2021. Max had shoved in his motorhome, flushed and furious, and had sucked Daniel off with such a passionate drive it had felt like maybe he was trying to get Daniel's soul too. Or like maybe he was trying to suck Daniel's P1 out of him through his dick. It had been one of the best blowjobs of his life, had left him dazed and panting on the couch while Max had bit out a congratulations and stormed out again, his shoulders just marginally less stiff.

And now Daniel is in front of Max's door, with a P5 that feels like a P1, feeling like he's going to be taking a step right out of a plane.

He hears shuffling when he finally knocks, and it's only when he hears Max open the door that the uncertainty hits him in full force. He has not thought this through at all. Or well, he has, just not further than this. How do you ask someone "hey it's been almost three years but I would like to cash in a blowjob"??

Max looks...soft. He has a pair of sweats on, one of his white tshirts, hair freshly washed and unstyled. The blank expression and small polite smile he's sporting when he opens the door, as if he was expecting to have to send someone away, immediately morph into a blinding smile when he spots Daniel. It's always been so easy, at least for Daniel, to make Max smile like that.

"Daniel!" he says, eyes crinkling, moving to the side to let Daniel in without having to be asked.

"Hello, Max."

His room is fairly tidy, his luggage open in a corner with a few team shirts spilling out just as it had always been, but the blankets on the bed are all askew, a comfy little nest around Max's open laptop.

"Am I interrupting something?" Daniel asks, motioning towards it. He never knows when Max is working, watching something, or playing with his friends, but he hopes it's nothing important. If it's something important and Max sends him away, Daniel knows he will never find the guts to do this ever again.

"No," Max starts, then turns, smiling more, "well, yes. I was watching Lando's onboards. But they are not important now."

It hits him unexpectedly hard, the casual acknowledgement that Daniel's presence is more important than whatever Max was already planning for his evening. It's nothing new, but it's been a while since Daniel has felt it, the way Max loves him so simply. Since he has felt deserving of it.

Something must show on his face, because Max's smile turns soft as he sits down on the couch near the window, patting the space next to him for Daniel to join him.

"Why are you here?" From anyone else, it would sound rude, but Daniel has been used to Max's bluntness since day one, misses it sometimes these days, now that he's a little more careful with it, so he knows Max only means exactly what he's asking.

Daniel also knows this could be the moment to bring it up, his request, but it feels wrong to just barge in on Max's evening, get an orgasm and leave. Back then he would have done it, but they're both different people now.

"I wanted to see you, Maxy," he says, aiming for joke and hitting fond instead. It's not a lie, but the way Max goes all pink and pleased feels too dangerous for his heart, so Daniel redirects. "P2, yeah?"

It's enough to set Max off, talking about corners and turns and steering and this car. Not my car, Daniel notes. He's not surprised by the difference, but he wonders if Max means to make it so obvious, how he feels about this year's car. Or maybe Daniel is just really versed in Max-speak.

He also notices the tension around his eyes a couple of times, when Max mentions the team, and if it was another night he maybe would have asked; it never took much for Max to tell Daniel things, especially when he was unhappy about something. But today he got P5, and something about the blush growing on Max's cheeks as he gets more and more animated, making his eyes looks even more blue, firmly sets him back on jumping off the plane and send it plans.

He waits for Max to slow down a little, then nudges his calf with his foot, enjoying the way Max immediately reacts by jabbing a finger into Daniel's side, tension disappearing from his face.

"P5 is not P2, but it's still pretty good, right?"

Max's smile is his best one yet, all bright and proud as he nods, reaching for Daniel again to squeeze his shoulder.

"Of course, you have been very good today, Daniel! I am glad you are again feeling the car right."

Always so sweet and earnest. If he hadn't already teared up a little before press, face hidden in Blake's shoulder, Daniel would have probably done it now. As it is, he just smiles back, lets Max talk through his lap, quietly pleased by the knowledge that Max had obviously watched his onboard already, before Lando's. Maybe, if he dares to hope it, even before George's.

It's probably that, feeling like he's still important to Max, what gives him the confidence to throw things into motion.

"Feels like a P1, mate."

For a split second, he doesn't know what to expect. Will Max understand what he means? Maybe Max has not been thinking about their past times together, maybe saying P1 will mean nothing to him, maybe he will just go on another rant on how different P1 is of course from P5. Or maybe he will understand Daniel, and he will just slide off the couch and onto his knees, and Daniel won't have to say anything else.

Max, obviously, because he's Max, does neither thing.

His expression changes, something focused and pinched, as he tilts his head a little and stares at Daniel, lips slightly pursed.

"You want to feel like P1?" he asks. To someone else it would sound like a perfectly normal question, but Daniel knows that Max has understood, because somehow Max always gets him, even now. He also knows that he will not get out of this without talking about it at least a little. They're both different people, he has to remind himself. He's not the only one who's changed.

He nods, because he's not one to go back on his steps when he's already decided to send it, but he doesn't say anything else.

Max still looks deep in thought.

"We..." he starts, then immediately changes trajectory, "I can. If that is what you want."

As if Daniel might have walked all the way over without wanting this, without wanting Max. He nods again, watches as Max shifts a little, eyes flicking down to Daniel's lap, then to his own hands. His ears are red.

"Why now?" he blurts out, fingers twisting together. "You have of course got P5 before, but you have never come to me."

For a second, Daniel feels breathless with the knowledge that this whole time, Max would have been willing. This whole time, he could have asked and Max would have said yes, even after all these years, even after his championships, even after 2022.

"It didn't feel the same," he answers, before adding in a whisper, a belated confession, "I missed you."

He sees the way Max's shoulders jolt, his head snapping up again, eyes wide and surprised. Daniel doesn't get it, they have said it before, but he doesn't get time to dwell on it before Max is smiling again, grabbing a pillow and gracelessly following it on the floor.

Suddenly, just from seeing Max on his knees, Daniel is half hard. No wanking memory could hold a light to the real thing, to Max, broad and solid and real.

He lets Max get his hands on his legs, spreading them gently and shuffling forward, fingers sliding up to his thighs. It's hard to swallow now, the air in the room suddenly heavy with anticipation.

"I have missed you," Max rasps, kneading at Daniel's legs, not even reaching for his waistband yet. "I have missed doing this for you."

Daniel closes his eyes, lets his head fall back, but he regrets it immediately when he realizes it means not looking at Max anymore. Max, who's now looking up at him, pupils blown and lips red. For a moment, Daniel wishes things were different, wishes this thing was one where they kissed too, where he got to drag Max in his lap and get to touch him, feel all the way he's different now.

"Up," is all Max says, breaking his dangerous train of thought, and Daniel just obeys, lifting his hips and letting Max take down his pants, leaving them pooled at his ankles.

He's sure he's imagining the sigh Max lets out, the way his fingers are trembling a little when they reach just barely inside his underwear, grazing the top of his thigh.

And then Max leans forward and licks over one of Daniel's tattoos.

The sound Daniel lets out is a mix of a yelp and a moan. He can feel the little shit smiling against his skin, right before he does it again, adding a bite at the end, followed by an apology kiss, and this too is different from how they used to do it, quick and dirty, straight to the prize. Daniel is not going to complain.

Max takes his time, kissing and licking his way up his tattoos, until his nose hits the side of Daniel's clothed dick, now well on its way to fully hard.

"Hello," Max whispers, like a nerd, flashing a cheeky smile up at Daniel, who's tempted to swat at him until Max opens his mouth and wraps his lips around the head of his cock, underwear and all.

Daniel barely has time to squeak out a curse, hips bucking up in surprise, before Max steps back, smile gone. When he looks up again, he looks so intensely hungry Daniel struggles to swallow, and for his next revelation of the day, he understands that the gangly and overenthusiastic teenager who had drooled all over his dick in a club in Malaysia must have gained quite a lot of experience since then.

He refuses to analyze how that makes him feel, at least for now.

Max doesn't waste any more time, luckily, since Daniel is now hot and straining, making quick work of Daniel's boxers and of putting his mouth on him. For a second, with Max's lips around his tip, Daniel gets thrown back in time, and maybe things are not so different after all. Then Max takes a breath and sinks all the way down.

"What the...shit!" Daniel swears, scrambling for something to hold onto and finding Max's shoulders, as his brain goes completely blank, fuzzy with static and pleasure.

Yes, Max has definitely gotten more experience, because what the fuck is this. He's still enthusiastic, moaning and drooling around Daniel, tongue swirling as if his dick is some sort of delicacy, but the technique is different now. It's like he graduated in cock sucking or something, like he's trying to prove he's not only a racing champion, but a sex champion, or maybe like he's trying to kill Daniel. Or all three together.

Daniel knows he's being loud, moans and swears tumbling from his lips without hope of being restrained, but it seems to only spur Max on, as he fucking deepthroats him again with no sign of gagging. What the fuck.

"Max, Maxy, babe," Daniel tugs at Max's hair, struggling to string enough words together to let him know that, embarrassingly, he's already close, but all that does is make Max moan, the vibration of it feeling like sparks up Daniel's back.

Luckily, Max seems to still get the message though, because he lets up a little, gently suckling at Daniel's tip, pressing a kiss to it before pulling back completely to look up at Daniel.

He's like a vision, cheeks red and eyes bright, mouth spit slicked and a bit swollen, hair falling on his forehead, and Daniel's desire to kiss him comes back in full force. Again, almost as if he was reading it on Daniel's face, Max stops that particular train of though.

"Can I swallow?" Max asks, voice rough, as if it is a totally normal question and not a way to make Daniel feel like he's going to die on the spot.

"Do you want to?" Somehow, Daniel's voice is worse than Max's, all breathy and fucked up, and he can see Max being pleased about it. Menace.

"I always want to."

Max always used to, even back then, but Daniel had never questioned if it was because he thought that was how it was supposed to be or because he wanted to. Having the answer now is devastating. He groans, letting his head fall back and nodding weakly, hoping Max will just have mercy on him and finally kill him, but it doesn't seem good enough for the other, who reaches up to grab Daniel's chin, gently but firmly pulling his head back down.

"Yes?"

Daniel is acutely aware he had never explicitly asked for consent before, and neither had Max.

Things are different now.

"Yes."

It doesn't take long after that, Max throwing himself back into it like a man starved, and Daniel falling apart under him, unable to control his hands, his hips or the volume of his voice. He swears Max moans when Daniel finally comes down his throat, shaking and twitching as Max sucks him through it. He's still dazed and out of it while Max helps him back into his clothes, fondly patting his dick before tucking it in, and he can only watch as Max hauls himself to his feet again, wincing slightly, and dropping back on the couch next to Daniel.

"Good?" Max asks, because he's a nerd and a little shit.

Daniel limply hits him with his eyes still closed, feeling himself smile in response to Max's laugh.

This is different too, he distantly thinks. Usually it was Max coming to him, and he would always leave immediately after, never hanging out for Daniel's comedown. Now, when he finally opens his eyes, Max is curled up next to him, still looking flushed and happy. Still obviously hard.

Things are different now, Daniel reminds himself, checking with himself for a second as he reaches forward to tap on Max's knee.

"Want help with that?"

#i KNOW this is not great but if i dont post bad smut then how am i supposed to get to the good smut???#and i am also deeply sorry this is almost 3k it was meant to be like half of that but i do not have the gift of brevity #if this is really bad let me know and i will delete and die in shame <3 please and thank you!#one day i will learn how to write i promise!#also i know the pacing of the sentences is weird sometimes but i have read it over once and i dont know how to fix it #and i don't want to do it again i just want to post it and get rid of it godbless #if there are typos no there aren't #my writing #maxiel

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