NC-17 for language and sexual situations. This is slash, people. In case you've stumbled onto my journal for the first time, that means love and/or sex between two men. Hello!
Two lithe bodies lay entwined in an airy bed. Moonlight streamed in through large glass doors, but the mood was anything but eerie. There was heat in the air, the musky scent of two males surrendering to their lust for each other, brown curls against blonde, olive skin against fair.
Orlando licked his lips. His breathing was catching at the sight of his fingers disappearing into his lover's mouth. The glossy midnight blue nail polish he'd decided on for that morning's photo shoot looked black in this light. It also looked positively obscene next to Heath's delicate mouth. In the dark, it was difficult to determine whether the Aussie was blushing or not, but he felt fairly sure he was by the flush of warmth just under the firm skin beneath his fingers.
With a contented sigh, Orlando's mouth began to roam Heath's body from the neck down. He felt and saw his lover's deepening breaths, his strong hands shyly massaging his shoulders and back, and sinking into his thick hair.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Heath said, no hint of his usual assurance in his tone.
"You have the build of a rugby player," Orlando said against the sensitive skin of his lover's bicep. He licked up the line of the muscle and was rewarded with a delicious shudder.
"I...haven't played...since secondary," said the man trapped beneath him, panting.
Orlando mouthed his way along the hard chest and attacked a tiny pink nipple with avid teeth.
"Fuck," Heath said breathlessly. Anything else he might have said was stopped by Orlando feeding him his thumb, which he promptly licked, sucked, and nibbled eagerly. His mouth was soon full of greedy fingers.
The blonde man writhed under Orlando's weight. For such a thin guy, he was surprisingly heavy. The Brit was all lean muscle and energy, where Heath was wiry and strong. He wrapped his own long legs around Orlando's waist, pulling him closer.
Orlando responded by pulling Heath's arms up above his head and licking him all over, nuzzling into his neck playfully.
"You like being nuzzled, huh?" Orlando teased as he repeatedly nibbled on Heath's underarm and rubbed his nose in the pristine blonde armpit, pulling the trimmed hairs with his teeth.
"Damn, Orlando! You're good." Heath really wished he could be more articulate, but Orlando was like an octopus, attacking him with hands and feet, touching him all over as his mouth drove him mad with lust. He was an expensive violin in a virtuoso's hands. He almost asked Orlando how he could have so much experience for a guy in his twenties, but he didn't.
Orlando came up for air and stole a kiss from Heath, who tensed up with shock. He didn't usually kiss guys, but he was feeling too good, and he soon relaxed under the Brit's warm lips. He was thoroughly kissed and was breathing heavily when Orlando looked him in the eye with a smug smile. "You inspire me."
Heath felt himself flush. The hell with this, he wanted to experience it all with this hot man. "Do me, Orli. I want you."
Orlando smiled with a devilish glint in his eye. "I thought I was. Must be doing something wrong."
"That's not what I mean." Heath swallowed thickly. "Um. You know." He begged with his eyes for the other man to understand. 'Please, don't make me say it,' he thought.
Orlando licked his lips, "I thought you'd never ask." The limber actor reached over to the nightstand and produced a large bottle of lube.
Heath giggled in spite of himself. "My. Somebody's sure of himself."
"Nah. I knew you'd put out," Orlando teased, pinching a pebbled nipple.
First a yelp, then Heath said, "Fuck you, Bloom."
"Promises, promises. Truly, you never know when opportunity might knock, or throw you over the edge of the couch to fuck you like a two bit whore."
They shared a hearty, self-conscious laugh at the lame joke. Orlando didn't waste any time and lubed fingers were probing Heath's hole by the time their laughter died down.
"Mind the nail polish," Heath teased. His attempt to hide his nerves was given away by a jittery laugh.
Orlando grinned back, "I'll get you in eyeliner yet."
"Not likely. Oh." A chuckle turned into a moan and a gasp. "Not so far," Heath cried out.
Orlando hissed at the heat that swallowed his thick digits, one after another.
"Please," Heath begged, an edge of fear in his voice.
"I won't hurt you, luv. Hush, now. Don't worry."
Heath pulled Orlando's face in for a frantic kiss. His chocolate brown eyes looked black as coal. They mirrored Orlando's own, except Heath's were suddenly shy.
He grabbed Orli's curly head in both hands, mumbling, "I don't let just anyone do this."
All traces of smugness left Orlando's face. He looked fondly at the man beneath him and simply nodded, not trusting his voice.
Heat closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He allowed the sensations to wash over him. When Orlando felt his lover start to thrust back against his fingers, he figured he was ready enough. Slipping on a condom, he positioned himself at the dilated opening.
Heath let out an undignified whimper when Orlando pushed in, going farther than he intended.
"Ahh, sweet...sweet. You are so sweet," Orlando said instead of the curses that came to his mind.
Heath cuffed him up the side of the head. "Don't talk to me like I'm a fucking girl. Fuck me like a man."
Orlando responded with a sharp thrust that made Heath yelp. And another. Soon enough, the only sounds were the slap of skin on skin and the whimpers and groans of pleasure they could not hold back.
Their voices crescendoed as their rhythm got erratic. Orlando was brought back to reality by an unhappy moan. Heath tensed up under him.
"You ok? Did I hurt you?"
Heath glared at him. He grabbed his cock and pumped furiously, and growled, "Don't fucking stop now!"
Orlando, in a haze of lust, picked up the thrusting once more. He angled his fucking to hit Heath's prostate, earning him a yowl from the sweat-drenched body below him. On the third stroke, the Aussie cried out and spilled all over his abs and chest. His orgasm milked Orlando, who thrashed above him, barreling into his slick heat.
Heath pulled Orlando's hair, and hit him once on the shoulder. "You asshole."
"What. The. Fuck?" Orlando pumped harder into him, making him hit his head against the headboard twice before he grew still and came with a shout.
Heath was breathing hard and angry through his teeth. "Get off me," he whispered.
Orlando turned bleary eyes on him, uncomprehending. "Heath?"
"Get the fuck off me, you fucking asshole."
Orlando pulled out gingerly and disposed of the condom in a hurry. "What's the matter, mate? There's no need...what? Having regrets so soon? You're one of those who get all huffy after they come?" he said, growing indignant.
Heath looked at him like he was the stupidest clod on the planet. He looked away for a moment, then shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed. He got up and turned to look at Orlando, who was staring at him like he'd grown a new head and he didn't approve. He snorted unhappily at the man's expression and pursed his lips before he spoke. His voice shook slightly. He was well and truly pissed off.
"My name is not Viggo."
He had the satisfaction of seeing all the color drain from Orlando's face. The flustered man opened and closed his mouth several times without making a sound. "H-Heath. I'm so sorry."
Heath was already half dressed and paused for a moment to let out a bitter little chuckle. He finished dressing and started to go, but he was too pissed to just let it go, so he turned around and faced Orlando, who was looking at him miserably.
"I'm curious now, since I just let you fuck me. Was that Freudian, or are you fucking him too?" He was just baiting Orlando and he knew it. He had no right to ask the question, but Orlando had hurt his ego badly. 'Thinking of another man while...whatever. It's not like we're getting married,' he didn't say.
"N-no. I mean, yes. I...it's not like that at all."
"Which the fuck is it?"
"Wait. No. I mean...we have an...open...relationship"
Heath looked anywhere but at Orlando. "You. Have. A relationship." He took a couple of open-mouthed breaths, trying to calm down. He spoke again through a scowl, voice dripping with sarcasm. "And it didn't cross your mind I might have wanted to know this before you fucked me." It wasn't a question. "Boy, you're a real prince."
"Heath," Orlando said, haltingly, "I'm sorry. I didn't think."
"Aw, piss off. Didn't think my ass." Heath could not find anything to say that wouldn't make him sound like some scorned teenager, so he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and walked off.
"Wait. Heath!" Orlando cried after him. He got off the bed and followed.
"Leave me alone, Bloom."
"No, Heath, please! I really wanted this with you," he said, grabbing Heath by the shoulders.
Heath shrugged his hands off and turned around, furious. "You know what?" he said coldly. "Don't fucking touch me. Is *that* clear enough?"
"Jesus, Heath, I fucked up. I swear to you I wasn't thinking of him. I wasn't thinking at all. Please."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Orlando. Say hi to Viggo for me," he added sarcastically.
Even though he was ready for it, Orlando still cringed when the door slammed hard enough to loosen the hinges. "Fuck," he whispered to the empty room. "I fucked that up but good; didn’t I?”