Title: "Shimmer" 1/1
Pairing: Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom
Summary: Sean wants, Orlando takes.
Feedback: Of course.
Disclaimer: Never happened.
Notes: Written for the Lo-trips Slashababy challenge. Merry Christmas, Jintian! *mwah*
Thanks to the lovely & talented cupiscent & mdbfan for the beta & encouragement. <3<3
"Life is short
And love is always over in the morning"
-- The Sisters of Mercy
"I want to suck your cock."
Orlando blinked once, twice. Thought he deserved a medal or some shit for not choking on his fucking ale. "Do, um, wha--?"
Sean leaned forward, elbows braced on the wobbly table, eyes glittering, intent. Aware. He seemed to be oblivious to the dirty plates beside him, waiting to be taken away by their server. "I want to take you back to my place, strip you down and suck your cock until you come in my mouth. Then I want to fuck you."
Every obscene word out of that absurdly beautiful mouth sent waves of heat skittering down Orlando's spine immediately to his cock. Which was more than happy with the turn of events. Then again, his dick'd never had much pride. Or much use for sexual orientation, apparently. "Um, Sean..."
Sean continued to sit there, seemingly relaxed. Until Orlando got a good look at his eyes. Which glowed so dark they were almost emerald, shimmered with some indefinable...thing. Yeah, that was coherent. Only, not. Fuck coherence and all that. Somehow, Orlando thought he'd be forgiven for not. Being coherent, that is.
"I'm not going to say it again," Sean said, and Orlando could tell he meant it.
"Sean." Cause, yeah. Couldn't think of too much else to say.
"You're..." The words came out in a rush. "...You'renotgay."
Sean laughed, low and thick, the sound filling Orlando's ears until the echo reverberated into his blood. "I still want to suck your cock."
Right. That, um. Made sense. Somewhere. To someone.
"Yes, Orlando?" Impatience was creeping in Sean's voice.
"I'm not gay." Which had been a really important thing in his life about, oh, say, five minutes ago. Before Sean had opened those full lips and started speaking. Orlando's gaze strayed back to them, their lushness, the flicker of a tongue across the seam...and wondered. Ached. Wondered why he ached. Wondered where the hell this ache had come from, and why no one had ever warned him that it was possible to ache like this. Over a friend. A very good friend. A very good male friend, who, apparently, wanted to go down on him and suck him off like a blowpop. Blow...suck...
Sean leaned forward and snagged Orlando's hand in a surprisingly gentle grip. "It's not going to stop you from doing this," he smirked.
"It's, um..." Fuck, but it was much too hot. Heat shimmered in the air, in his veins, along his skin. "It's not?"
"No." Sean smiled again, and Orlando forgot about breathing and shimmers and his own fucking name. "You're still going to beg me to fuck you by the time I'm done."
Well, when he put it like that...
"Don't worry," Sean continued, squeezing Orlando's hand. "I'm not in love with you or anything. No plans to steal you away from Kate. I've just had a yen to suck you off for the last few years and got tired of waiting to see if you'd make the first move."
First move? Um, Orlando didn't even know he was supposed to be making a first move. Wasn't even aware that they were, um, after each other. Into each other. Oh God, into each other, slick flesh sliding against his, bound by sweat and come and lube as limbs tangled, breath mingled...
"And you've waited until now?"
"Yeah, well." Sean shrugged, the movement stretching the fabric of his dinner jacket across broad shoulders. "Fewer people we know here."
Ah, right. Orlando nodded in understanding. Different film, different crew. Different expectations. And, most importantly, no Dom or Viggo to knock on the door the next morning with a knowing smile. "I, um, well...um..."
Words were useless. 'Cause, yeah. So, he wasn't gay. And he wasn't. Really. Had a flashing thought about his girlfriend, the very softness and warmth of her, and the ache that pooled in his crotch had nothing to do with Sean, and everything to do with sinking into slick heat. Okay, that was good. Still straight. Um, mostly.
Orlando stared at Sean again, stared into green depths, into Sean, searched deep into his memories. Of Sean and him together, of full-bodied hugs and touches that had lingered just a shade too long. Thought about giving himself over, about full lips and obscene words and broad shoulders, bunched muscle under his hand. Thought about hard and breaking and rough.
He stood, chair scraping the floor. Sean's eyes crinkled in another smile, this one softer, more like the ones Orlando was used to. Somehow, it didn't make it any less sexy. Fuck. Sean Bean...sexy. Well, he was and all, but, just. Orlando wasn't. Into guys. Even if they were sexy. Sounded sexy. Moved like sex on a stick. Melted his skin with a simple, well-timed look.
"You swear it's just tonight, right?"
Sean inclined his head, the motion regal. Orlando was reminded of Sean's character, thought Odysseus would never have gone down on his knees for another man...especially Paris. Then again...the idea. Sean. On his knees. Those sharply curved cheeks hollowed as Sean drew Orlando's cock deeper into his mouth, throat working, tongue flicking lightly along tightly stretched skin. The soft, wet sound of lips sliding over and around Orlando's length, softer moans of encouragement as Orlando threaded fingers through honey-fine hair and pushed forward. Deeper into heat. Shimmered over, around, into Sean until the very air imploded around them, blended into...
Orlando wasted no time counting the bills of the check, just threw down a few and walked out. He knew Sean would follow.
Orlando was still working out the whys and wherefores and lube or lotion or something, fuck, he didn't have any of that shit at his place, or condoms for that matter, and how was there going to be fucking if there wasn't any way to get, y'know, certain parts, in...and yeah. In. In and out, cock slipping forward, pressing in, invading, burning, stretching, and ohfuck --
Sean's heavy, muscled weight pressed him against the side of the car as his hand fisted in Orlando's hair, wrapping through black curls. The kiss scraped teeth on teeth, tore at Orlando's lower lip, and the faint, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as Sean dove in, conquered him like Orlando was some kind of woman to stand there and take this shit.
Orlando's hands tangled in Sean's hair, wrapped through fine strands as he pushed back. Battled for control with his own tongue, felt the slippery-slick slither of Sean's tongue against his. Pressed in with his own body, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, felt the heavy rasp of denim as his cock slid against, um.
Sean was quite the big boy.
Somehow, the thought made Orlando even harder. He pushed up, tugging on Sean's hair in a whip-sharp motion, tasted Merlot and blood in the kiss. Breathed in the heavy scent of desire mixed with the heavier scent of garlic from the restaurant behind them. Lips and tongues fought, battled for supremacy, firm hands dug deep bruises into Orlando's shoulders, and only one word crawled across a brain threatening complete meltdown.
With a ragged gasp, Orlando tore his mouth away, licked at the cut along his lower lip. Sean's eyes narrowed, drawn to the sight, and he slithered even closer (and how was that even possible?), snake-like and ohso very deadly. "You gettin' in the car, or are we doing this here?" he asked, velvet voice ribboning a black spiral around Orlando's body until he felt bound, chained by nothing more than heat and whispers.
Orlando took a long, shuddering breath, wormed a hand between them, and cupped Sean's inseam with possessive fingers. "Do I get to fuck you later?"
Sean smirked again, dark and deadly. "Luv, you can do whatever you want to me. As long as you get in the car."
Orlando dropped the keys into Sean's outstretched palm.