A Queer Manner of Business

[pirate-hussies.livejournal.com]

Title: A Queer Manner of Business
Author: Q.H
Pairing: Sean/Orli
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sean is business man in the 1880's who takes a chance on a young come-by-chance...
Chapter: 3/3
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: This is purely fiction please do not make any assumptions about the actors based on what you read here.
Author’s Notes: I posted this in my LJ a while ago and it seemed to go down well so I thought I'd share it here too. Enjoy.
For bluespirit_star because she is wonderful in every way imaginable.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2



A Queer Manner of Business

By

Q.H.
Sean walked round the corner and into Newton Road, heading for the flat that he hadn’t visited for a long time and hadn’t slept in since his wife had left five years ago. Orlando was in there now, bringing much needed life to the place.
They had spent all of last night together, another beautiful night and Sean at last felt happy, like he was breathing easily, free for the first time. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to but it was one he had every intention of becoming accustomed to. If he and Orlando had their way, it would last forever.
Sean knocked on the door bearing the brass figures ‘3a’ and waited. A second later there was a loud thud followed by Orlando’s delicate, dulcet tones.
“Ouch, bugger. Ah, oww! Who is it?”
Sean was already laughing.
“What are you doing now, lad?” He called through the door.
“Sean. Come in it’s open.”
He pulled open the unlocked door and peered inside. Orlando was sat in a crumpled heap on the floor next to the dark wood dresser, lit by the wash of sunlight from the long windows, like a disgruntled fallen angel in the rays of the sun. Sean laughed again.
“What are you doing down there? Did you hit your head on something?” He asked pointedly as Orlando sat there rubbing his curls and wincing.
“Yeah, I wanted to see where Emmie got to, there’s a hole under here I think, she somehow manages to squeeze through…” Orlando was crawling back under the dresser again on his stomach, squeezing between the cupboard held up on short legs and the floorboards.
“Orlando,” Sean called in a pained voice that spoke only too clearly of his bewilderment.
“Will you come out of there and tell me what on earth you’re on about. Hey, come on, lad, carefully or you’ll hit your – never mind.” He took off his long woollen coat and his hat and hung them on the stand. Then he went and knelt down next to Orlando who was once again sprawled on the floor, but at least out from underneath the furniture, and massaged his fingers over the two swelling lumps on his lover’s head.
“Mmmm, want to kiss it better for me?” Orlando turned his face into the sunlight and closed his eyes, letting the strong light filtering through the glass warm his skin as Sean pressed soft kisses through his curls. Orlando stayed as still as he could, unmoving, as Sean dropped down with gentle reverence to kiss his eyelids and cheekbones before tracing a path over the pristine skin to his lips. Sean worked his way from one corner of that perfect mouth to the other, taking his fill as Orlando sat and allowed him to do anything he wanted with him. It wasn’t passive so much as indulgent, letting Sean do as he pleased, take what he wished. It was an action of trust and love.
Sean pushed apart Orli’s lips and began to kiss in earnest, pulling his lover against him, he smiled as Orlando couldn’t resist returning the kiss. They broke apart grinning and quite literally glowing in the stream of strong winter sun.
“Now, tell me what you were doing under here.” Sean said, settling back against the dresser. Orlando immediately settled in between his legs, his back pressed against Sean’s chest as strong arms wrapped around him.
“I was looking to see if that was how Emmie got in and out.”
“Alright…who…what…?”
“The cat, Sean, I think the hole under there is how she gets in and out.”
“What cat, how hard did you hit your head?”
Orlando laughed, sending the tiny dust motes caught in the sun stream swirling out for their entertainment and Sean reached out to stir them up some more, making Orlando smile softly.
“You remember when I first moved in? I asked you about the cat that was in here. You told me then that you didn’t have a cat and had no idea who she belonged to. I’d spent the whole night calling the poor thing ‘Mr Bean’s Cat’ and she wasn’t even yours. But, when I got home the next night she was still here and the name had stuck. We shortened it to ‘MBC’, ‘Mr Bean’s Cat’ was such a mouthful, you know. Then ‘MBC’ sort of morphed into Emmie, which I think she likes. She keeps coming back anyway. She’s always in and out and I’ve never let her through the front door. I’ve always wondered how she did it, then this morning I saw her disappear under here and she didn’t come out. So, I went under to have a look and there’s a hole in the wall. That’s what I was looking at when you knocked and I, consequently, hit my head.”
Sean kissed the lumpy head again, smiling as he did.
“So, there is a cat and her name’s Emmie. I’ll get that hole fixed up for you - ”
“You will not. How will Emmie feel if we shut her out? She’ll think I don’t want her.”
“Alright…I take it that you do want her, then?”
Orlando nodded.
“Yeah, she has these wonderful big green eyes,” he turned around in Sean’s arms so that they were face to face, “not as green as yours though.” He looked at Sean, looking right into his eyes and somehow further.
“You have such beautiful eyes.” Orlando whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Sean wrapped his arms back around him, pulling his lover tight against him to feel his warmth and strength heavy against him.
“Orlando.” Sean suddenly broke the kiss, freezing absolutely still where he sat.
“What’s the matter?” Orlando asked, taking in the alarmed look that had flickered over Sean’s face.
“There’s something moving against my back.”
Orli’s brow wrinkled in adorable expression of confusion.
“Underneath the dresser, lad.” Sean explained.
Orlando leaned around Sean’s arm to see behind him. Then his eyebrows rose and a smile spread across his face. He reached underneath the dresser and pulled out a mass of pebble grey fur and unblinking emerald eyes.
“Emmie.” He explained happily.
“So, I see.” Sean said carefully, it didn’t have the look of a kitten so much as one of those wild cats in the drawings you saw, drawn by the explorers out in Africa. Usually the ones where the drawings got sent home with the other personal affects belonging to said explorer who had, in fact, been eaten shortly after finishing the sketch.
Orlando had the cat curled in his arms, cooing at it like it was a baby as it glared malevolently at Sean. As his lover fussed over the cat, scratching her ears and rubbing her chin, Sean was pretty certain she was watching him and planning a way to have him disappear. An evil looking cat at best, all screwed up features and overly wide eyes. She gave Sean the impression that he would be warring for Orlando’s affections and, judging by the cooing, he was actually quite scared he might lose.
“Come on, we should be at the warehouse.” Sean said quickly, pushing himself up off the floor and dusting himself down. Orlando groaned and hid his nose in Emmie’s fur.
“Because that’s always a great place for me to be.” He reluctantly let go of Emmie putting her down gently to the floor, once down she turned her back on Sean and stuck her tail in the air as she flounced off to jump onto the window ledge and make good use of the winter sun.
“Sean!”
“What?”
“Stop scaring her.” Orlando ordered impatiently.
“I wasn’t!”
“You were. I saw you glare at her.”
“I…her? She was glaring at me! Not the other way around!” Sean denied desperately.
“Sean, she’s a cat and she doesn’t glare, do you Emmie? No, you don’t, do you, baby?”
“Nor do I glare.”
Orlando snorted.
“And what was that for?”
“You do too.”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Oh, this is daft. Shut up, lad, I don’t glare.” Sean stalked towards Orlando.
“You’re doing it right now. Glaring right at me, a sort of predatory glare. Do you growl too?” Orlando laughed.
“I do if you rub me the right way.” Sean answered pouncing on the sniggering Orli and devouring him where he stood.
“I thought we were supposed to be at the warehouse.” Orlando said breathlessly as they broke apart. Sean pulled his pocket watch out and swore.
“We are, come on, Jack’ll kill us if we’re late.”
“Sean. You kiss me like that and then start talking about your foreman, should I be worried?”
“Not unless Jack hears you talking that way, lad. Come along.” He reached across to the heavy wooden hat stand that stood behind the door, pulling down Orli’s black woollen coat, black hat and long, bright yellow, scarf, passing them to him before donning his own gear. Sean had developed a pleasant habit of putting his hand flat against the bottom of Orli’s back whenever they walked together and it was there now as they readied to leave the flat.
Sean waited as Orlando secured and locked the door and the two of them headed out onto the street.
The sun was strong today but far in the distance Sean could see dark, heavy clouds rolling in. They were moving lazily towards them carrying the threat of grey days to come. But, for now, the sky was blue and the day clear. There was a frost sweetened wind pulling at their clothes and needling into their skin, Sean jammed his hands into his pockets in attempt to keep his fingers from freezing. The streets were busy, people bustling about, swarms of dark coloured winter coats and stiff, unyielding, box like hats that not even the wind could move. Ladies stepping stiff necked over the icy cobbles, struggling as the small heels of finely crafted boots slipped over the smooth, cold stones. Bonnets and capes tied tightly against the chill, warded off with layer after layer of material. Children bundled up so tight that they could hardly move, trotting behind their mothers and moving just as awkwardly. Horse-drawn carriages clattered along the road, the hot breath of the horses visible in the cold air, like the smoke curling from a healthy fire. The streets were a healthy juggling of midday noise and bustle, as the two of them made their way to the warehouse.

Jack and Sean stood in the middle of the warehouse watching the business around them, keeping an ear out for any crashes, bangs or general noises of disruption but things seemed to be moving smoothly enough for the moment, though neither dared say it aloud. They had left Orlando talking to a couple of the factory lads, explaining what he wanted them to do for a particular order they had coming in, but Jack, wisely, kept him visible at all times, always under his eye, just in case.
“That lad of yours,” Jack always referred to Orlando this way and Sean felt very little inclination to try and stop him, he wondered idly if he referred to him in the same way when talking to Orlando.
“What about him?”
“He knows his business well. Got a good way with the lads here,” he said quietly, his beady eye fixed on Orlando who was now tossing and catching a very small bag of corn that one of the workmen had handed him, “but I really wish he wouldn’t do that.” Jack’s head was now jerking up and down as he watched the sack rise and fall by Orlando’s hand. Sean watched too, but his eyes were fixed on the man throwing and catching, laughing as he talked to the men, injecting a good dose of cheerful management that never undermined his authority. He was throwing the bag higher and higher and having to move to catch it now, Sean could see Jack getting twitchy as the bag soared through the factory air.
“Mr Bean, I really think, given his past record, that he should…err…stop that.”
“Aye, maybe you’re right.” Sean grinned, casually folded his arms across his chest and called out, “Orlando.”
Orli deftly caught the bag as it descended and turned gracefully to towards Sean.
“You’re making Jack nervous, lad,” he shouted across to him. Orlando beamed at him and nodded, he turned back to the men he’d been talking to and finished up with them before loping towards Jack and Sean with an easy stride.
“Sorry Jack, didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t, boy, I just have a liking for seeing this building in one piece.”
Orlando and Sean shared a quiet grin behind Jack’s back as they followed him to the small room that served as an office of sorts. It was mostly full of the dusty, crumpled copies of the orders they took and the deliveries that haulage were making. Orlando started flicking through one of the huge, leather bound order books, checking the most recent pages.
“Here it is,” he muttered and disappeared back onto the factory floor where he resumed his conversation with the two workmen who had given him the corn bag, this time using the book as some sort of reference point. Pretty soon all three of them were nodding enthusiastically and Orlando was heading back towards Jack’s office area looking pleased.
“They’re going to personally see that the Hepworth grain gets bagged in half-size sacks that’ll allow for easier transportation as well as lifting once it gets there, I’m certain it’ll be the weight of one of our sacks that’ll finish off Old Hepworth if we’re not careful.”
“Good thinking, lad. That’ll certainly help.” Sean nodded in agreement and even Jack looked mildly impressed as Orlando hefted the massive order book back onto the rickety old wooden desk.
“It’ll make things easier I think.” He wandered back to stand next to Sean.
“We’d better go,” Sean pulled out his watch and checked the time. “There’s a lot to be done at the office this afternoon. Anything else for us here, Jack?” He asked just as the old wooden desk creaked horribly where it stood. The three of them stared at it, Orlando with a frozen look of panic fixed to his face. It gave a short, strangled screech of twisting wood before collapsing to the floor in a cloud of dust and splinters.
“I only put the bloody book down,” Orlando virtually yelled, “I didn’t even touch it!”
Sean stood floundering, watching Jack who was watching the dust settle in the remnants of his office.
“I…how…we should run.” Sean said quickly.
“What?!”
“Come on, quick, before Jack gets a hold of you.” He pushed his rather desperate looking lover towards the door. Orlando took one look at Jack slowly rising from the cloud of debris then at Sean who was already heading for the door, and ran.
“What?…How?…I don’t…Oh, bloody hell!” Jack’s yells echoed after them as they ran through the main doors and out onto the street, running like a couple of school boys until they reached the end of the road, laughing and panting. Bursting with fresh laughter every time they looked at each other.
“Jack’s going to forbid me from entering there soon.”
“Oh, I doubt it lad, though he might start escorting you wherever you go.” Sean laughed.
“Wouldn’t do him much good, I didn’t even touch that bloody desk.”
Sean watched Orlando as he stood catching his breath, he was so beautiful, his dark hair flying wildly about his face, a direct contrast to the bright yellow scarf being lifted by the breeze and the flush that had reached his cheeks from running in such cold weather. Sean stepped closer to him, unable to stop himself he reached out and tucked a curl behind a cold ear.
Orlando smiled at him, reflecting the look that Sean knew must be in his own eyes too. One of want, of need and undoubtedly, of love.
“I really want to kiss you, right now.” Sean growled low in his throat.
“Then I suggest, love, that we get home quickly.” Orlando whispered back and set off at a jog, towards their offices and Sean’s living quarters, leaving Sean to catch him up.

Sean was jumped from behind the moment he got through the office door, Orlando, using Sean’s shoulders for leverage, wrapped his legs around Sean’s waist and arms around his neck, kissing his jaw line.
“What are you doing lad?” Sean laughed.
“I would hope that was obvious,” Orli answered, inching his way around Sean’s waist, feet never touching the floor, until he was sat in Sean’s arms with his legs round his back.
“Very skilful.” Sean commented, taking Orli’s weight and kissing his throat.
“I try.”
“Mmmmm,” anything further Sean had to say was swallowed as Orlando claimed his mouth and slid down to press against him. Sean growled and pulled Orli tighter into him.
“Down stairs, Orlando, lets put those skills to good use.”

The darkness fell all too early at this time of year, cold and oppressive as it swept the streets, filling every nook and cranny, covering every cobble, every stone with an inky blackness that the meagre glow of the oil lit street lamps could never completely banish. The clouds that had been a distant threat had reached them now, weighing heavily in the night sky and blocking the stars from view.
Orlando had insisted on going back to 3a to feed Emmie, despite Sean’s suggestion that he just stay with him and feed Emmie tomorrow. That had earned him a scowl and then a smile and finally a kiss before his lover lifted himself swiftly from their bed and dressed to leave.
Sean had dressed and gone upstairs himself moments later. It was dark everywhere already, despite only being just past six. Sean lit the lamps, shielding the taper as he moved carefully from one corner of the office to the next, until a warm, golden haze flickered throughout the room. Next, he lit the fire, throwing the last lumps of coal in from the scuttle and taking his time to stoke it up to a healthy blaze for when Orlando returned. When it was crackling merrily in the hearth he grabbed his coat and scarf from the stand in the corner and went out to fetch more coal. The lamp lighters were out, breathing life into the street lamps that loomed above the cobbled streets, sentinels to the night’s activities. Sean passed through the weighty circle of light and into the blackness of the alleyway beyond that led to the back of his offices and his coal bin.
Sean scowled as he looked at the sacks that had been dumped against the side of the bin rather than been piled inside, he’d have to mention that next time he was at the coal yard. Sighing resignedly, he began to stack them inside the heavy, iron chest, cursing as the rain came down. It had been beautiful all day and the minute he started a job outside the heavens decided to open. He pulled up the collar of his coat and wrapped his scarf a little tighter, trying to deter the freezing droplets from blowing down his neck as he hefted the coal to where it should be.

Orlando had fed Emmie the scraps of meat he always kept for her and poured out the milk he’d saved, as quickly as possible, eager to return to Sean. He was just trotting down the front steps of 3a and into the night when the first drops of rain fell. A couple to begin with and then, with an inevitable yawn, the skies burst and it poured down, cold and heavy. He jogged to the end of Newton Road and was just turning towards the office when he saw a carriage pull up outside 3a. He only got a glimpse of the man that got out and dashed into the building, out of the rain, but he knew who it was, knew that the man had kept true to form and was coming to take him home.
Orlando ran the rest of the way to the office, heedless of the rain pounding on his face and soaking him through. With his coat undone and his scarf uselessly trailing from his hand, he was drenched and freezing within seconds. As he pushed open the door his hands were numb with the cold and he was dripping with rainwater.
He looked around wildly, all the lamps were lit, the fire was blazing, it had all the trademarks of a welcoming room but there was one very important factor missing.
“Sean!” He yelled, going quickly through the room and flinging the door to the living quarters wide open.
“Sean!”
“Bollocks. Sean!” He yelled desperately.
But Sean, quite obviously, wasn’t there. Orlando took a couple of steadying breaths and pushed the dripping curls of hair out of his eyes. He knew that he would now have to face his uncle alone. He’d done it before; he could do it again. He stood in the middle of the office floor, watching the front door, waiting for it to open. The rain was so heavy it was beating against the windows and drowning out the sound of the healthily crackling fire that Sean had built.
“You can do this,” he muttered quietly to himself. A bright flash of lightening streaked through the room and seconds later a deafening clap of thunder crashed overhead. Orlando looked up slowly, rolling his eyes to the heavens.
“Thank you for the vote of confidence.”
There was a creak in front of him.
“Talking to the ceiling, Orlando?”
“Uncle.” Orlando said flatly, by way of greeting, looking back down to the man now stood in the doorway. He was thin, wiry, with limp, grey shoulder-length hair that was slicked back over his scalp. His suit was perfectly tailored, a heavy coat draped from his shoulders and he was holding the cane that Orlando remembered only too well, silver top grasped in his hand and steel point biting into the floorboards. He had a pale, pointed face that looked hollow in the dim light, his sallow eyes glared and his lip curled into a sneer as Orlando’s eyes met his.
“Boy. Come on, time to go.”
“I’ll go nowhere with you, uncle.”
“I don’t have the time or the inclination for this, boy. We must leave.” He pointed at the carriage just visible through the rain, where a horse and master stood miserably shivering on the cobbles.
“Please, by all means leave. I’ll stay here, if it’s all the same to you.”
“It is not ‘all the same’ to me and you know well that it’s not. Do not make a scene Orlando, I do wish you’d stop doing this. I get weary of having to drag you back. It was your father’s dying wish, Orlando, that you carry on the business that he built, isn’t it about time that you remembered your loyalty to your family.”
“My father did not work his whole life to keep you in whores and entertainment or for your impeccably dressed wife to wonder from one boutique to another squandering his fortune on clothes and jewels that will never do anything to improve her character and very little for her looks, for that matter.”
“How dare you,” his uncle hissed, more furious than Orlando had ever seen him before.
“It’s quite simple, my dear uncle, I have a new life here. I am an invaluable part of the business that is run here, I hold a position and a responsibility that would make my parents very proud and I have found worth in myself and in a life that I can dedicate to another.” He folded his arms over his chest and glared, smiling inwardly as he realised that he was mimicking Sean’s usual stance; that his lover’s strength was within him and he realised he was facing nothing alone.
“So you’ve fallen in love! Some pretty, little, brainless, slip of a girl no doubt who thinks you’re some kind of hero rather than the deserter and brat that you are,” he spat viscously, desperate to knock Orlando off course.
Orlando laughed. He really wished Sean had heard that description.
“That does not mean you’re worth more here than you are to me. You will return with me.” His voice was sinking lower and quieter and Orlando recognised the tone, as a child it had always been a warning to duck.
“You have no worth for me, uncle, my knowledge of the business is what you need and you wont have it. This is my home, I’m staying here.”
“Don’t be so ridiculous, boy. Where is the master of this bloody business, I’ll talk to him, I’m sure that when I speak to him, one businessman to another, he’ll understand the trouble that you will cause him if he keeps you on.”
“He’s not here.”
“How convenient. I am tired, Orlando, and irritated by these games. Come on, we’re leaving.”
“You leave, I’m staying here.”
“No, you’re not.”
Orlando just looked at him, his eyes hard as he waited for the next move. The moment stretched as neither man moved nor spoke, then his uncle strode to the door and flung it open, letting in the rain sweep into the room, bringing the weather indoors, turning the natural order of things inside out. Orlando couldn’t help but scan the street for Sean, but he could see very little.
His uncle didn’t leave but strode back towards him, Orlando thought for a moment that he was going to try and grab him but instead he stopped just a step away.
“Now, boy.”
“No.”
“Get in the carriage.”
“No.”
His uncle was getting desperate, he was turning the cane between stiffly twisting fingers, his lips pressed into a furious line across his face.
“Now!” He yelled.
Orlando silently shook his head. His uncle lost his temper. Before Orlando even had time to register the movement there was a white-hot pain across his ribs and his breath was stolen from him as the silver head of the cane slammed into his chest. His arms went up to cover the abused area as he struggled for breath. A second blow caught him across the face, knocking from his feet as thick, hot, blood filled his mouth. He spat it sickly onto the floor where he was now lying. The pain in his chest lanced through him as he tried to move but it was the sound from behind his uncle that really convinced him he must get up.

Sean was walking quickly through the rain, it was too late he was already soaked, not to mention filthy from re-arranging the coal bin. He smiled as he imagined Orlando’s face as he walked in looking like he’d spent a day in the mines rather than an hour at the back of their office.
As he came around the side of the building, passing back through the dismal patch of light offered by the street lamp, he saw a horse and carriage outside the office and the door swinging wide open. A shout came from inside and Sean sped up, he made it through the door just as Orlando hit the floor, spitting out a mouthful of blood. A man was stood over him, a came raised in a high hand. Sean lunged forward and grabbed the older man’s wrist and twisted it hard behind his back, pushing it painfully up behind his shoulders as the cane clattered to the floor.
“You bastard, you’ll regret that,” he growled, grabbing the man’s chin and twisting it to put unnatural strain on his neck.
“Sean! Stop!”
Orlando’s voice cut through the anger much more effectively than the pleading of the whimpering man that Sean held captive.
“What?” He was confused, surely he should be able to throttle the life out of this bastard and throw his useless carcass out onto the street?
Orlando was pushing himself up, slowly, giving Sean the weight of his injuries. It was more than just the blow to the face, he was carefully holding his ribs too. Sean’s grip tightened of it’s own volition and the spluttering started again.
“Sean.” Orlando’s quiet voice and gentle manner warred with his urge to keep twisting, but he released his grip when Orlando shamelessly employed the eyes. He held the bastard still as Orli stumbled towards them and came toe to toe with his uncle.
With a flash of something Sean never wanted to see in his lover’s eyes again, Orlando’s fist connected with his uncle’s cheek. Just once and not as hard as Sean would have liked to have hit him, but it was enough. The fear in his eyes was enough.
“You won’t attempt to see me again and you won’t contact me again, do you understand?” Orlando asked quietly of the man no longer struggling in Sean’s grasp.
“If I catch so much of a whiff of you I’m going to beat you with your own cane.”
The snivelling man’s eyes flicked briefly to where the cane had fallen, then back up to Orlando. He nodded.
Sean watched, not loosening his grip as Orlando limped to the door and held it open. The rain was still falling in the street outside and Sean took great enjoyment in throwing the man bodily out the door and onto the freezing cobbled street. He made no attempt to move as Orlando slammed the door behind him, shutting his uncle out with the winter, turning the natural order back to how it should be.
Sean stood and watched as Orlando leaned against the inside of the door and waited for the clattering of the horse and carriage to disappear. Then he sank slowly to the floor, one arm wrapped around his ribs, the other wiping blood from his mouth as he slid down the wood and slumped against the floorboards. His breathing was laboured and his eyes closed as he tilted his head back and rested it against the door.
“That was horrible,” he said flatly, Sean couldn’t hold back any longer, he knelt down in front of him.
“I feel sick, Sean,” he added.
“It’s alright, lad, you did well.” Sean reached out and ran his hand carefully through Orlando’s damp hair.
“Did I? Because I feel like shit and I don’t just mean physically. He was my father’s brother. I don’t understand. Shouldn’t I feel something at severing the ties to my only remaining family? Shouldn’t I be feeling something other than sick? He spent so many years smacking me with that bloody cane and yelling at my incompetence that I thought when he finally left me alone I’d be happy about it. I’m not.”
Sean watched saddened eyes flicker and close, shutting out the world. And him.
“Would you rather have gone back?” He asked quietly, keeping his hands to himself, giving Orlando the distance he needed.
“Absolutely not.” He replied with quiet conviction, his eyes still closed, but he did smile a little when Sean audibly let out the breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding.
“Well, I’m glad about that, lad, I must say.”
“Sean, I love you. It really is that simple, especially now.” Orlando finally looked at him and Sean was unaccountably pleased that he finally got to see his lover’s eyes, but he still felt there was something else.
“You look sad.” Orlando said softly.
“I think I am.”
“Why, what’s wrong, love? Talk to me.” Orlando turned towards him, reaching out to hold his face in bruised fingers. Sean didn’t think he’d ever been this close to losing control of his emotions and he wasn’t even sure he knew why.
“I’m just worried, I think, I don’t like to see you hurting, knowing there’s nothing I can do. Oh, I can wipe clean the cuts and bruises and help them heal but…”
Orlando was smiling, making his lip bleed through the purpling bruise that was spreading spectacularly across the left side of his face.
“What?”
“You heal me Sean, just by being you. When you look at me and you’re sad because I’m hurting, when I catch you watching me and you blush in the most manly and rugged way possible, of course; when you smile because I look at you, when you kiss me, when you touch me and especially when you tell me that you love me. You heal me.”
“Oh.”
Orlando laughed then winced as he jarred his chest.
“I pour my heart out and all you have to offer is ‘oh’?”
Sean settled against the door and pulled Orlando carefully into him, between his legs and against his chest, raining kisses down on the uninjured side of Orli’s face.
“I love you.”
“I know and it feels amazing. I love you, too.”
“You do?” Sean asked feigning shocked surprise.
“Yeah, I suppose, someone’s got to.”
“Then I’m glad you got stuck with the job.” Sean laughed as Orlando gave his best ‘martyred’ sigh.
“Mmmm, me too. No-one else is anywhere near as qualified as I am, after all.”
Orlando happily leaned over and kissed him then winced as his chest ached and his face burned.
“Come on,” Sean said pulling away, “let’s get you down stairs and cleaned up.” He stood up and looked down at his bruised lover who was sat on the floor smiling again.
“Looks like I’m not the only one that needs cleaning up. What have you been doing? Look at you, you’re black!”
“I was sorting out the coal bin.”
“In the rain?”
“Erm, yeah.” Sean had the grace to look at the floor but couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he looked down at the state of himself.
“Sean.”
“Yeah?”
“Get me up.” Orli smiled cheekily at him from the floor.
“Eh lad, the things I do for you.” Sean reached down and lifted him to his feet tenderly, kissing him carefully when they were upright.
Slowly they made their way down to Sean’s living quarters, negotiating the steps with great care and attention. Once Orlando was settled on the bed Sean took great pleasure in undressing him slowly and bathing his bruises with fresh water and ointment, forcing Orlando to remain painfully still as he worked over the delicate skin.
“Sean,” his lover whined. Sean’s lips touched Orlando’s chest with a faint brush of a murmured kiss.
“Not tonight, love, when you’ve healed a bit.” Sean felt hands in his hair pulling him upwards to a gentle kiss.
“Uhhh, but I love you.” Orlando smiled.
“I love you too, now get some rest.” Sean peeled himself away reluctantly and went to clean himself up as Olrando settled back into the blankets, positioning himself to wait for Sean.

Orli wasn’t even aware that he’d fallen asleep until a sharp pain in his chest woke him up. He groaned and rolled over slowly. Light had flooded the room, a few hours ago judging by the strength of the sun. Last night’s storm must have cleared the air, the bright white of a winter sky was just visible through the high glass windows. He sat up, allowing himself a moment to adjust to the tender aching in his chest and cheek. It was easier than last night but he was betting the bruising was a sight.
Sean was nowhere around, there was no sign of him as Orlando padded around the living areas, only a blanket wrapped around him for warmth. He wondered over to the sink, a mirror hung on the wall above it and he studied his face. His lip was cut and his jaw bruised but it didn’t look too bad, all things considered. The bruise on his chest, however, was a different matter. His uncle’s first swing had been a lot sharper and the point where the head of the cane had struck him was a stark white relief in a mass of black and purple bruising that petered out into red and mottled yellow. Orlando poked it gingerly then winced and decided that, perhaps, that wasn’t one of his brighter ideas. Moving as stiff as an old man he went to get dressed.

Sean walked quickly back from his solicitors in Pilkington square, not even Mr DeTryst-Barrett and his oppressive offices and stupid double-barrel name could give him a headache this morning. He walked with his head held high, letting the winter sun and cerulean sky blind him. He had in his hands some papers, documents that would change his life and he clutched them tightly, certain of their importance. He wanted nothing more than to get back to Orli and show him the papers and wish him a good morning. The cobbled stones were still wet from last night’s rain storm, but the glare of the sun shone brightly off them this morning and although there was a cold breeze, it wasn’t bitterly so, more refreshing. Sean bid a good morning to a couple of ladies, whose cheeks glowed rouge in the healthy chill of the morning, they smiled and returned good wishes from under layers of ribbon and bonnet.
Sean reached the front door to their offices and swung it open. Unwrapping his scarf and shrugging out of his heavy coat, he hung them on the stand and called to Orlando.
“Downstairs,” came the reply and Sean made his way to the private door and literally bounced down the steps, papers still clutched in his hand.
Orlando was stood next to the bed wearing nothing but a pair of the soft brown leather breeches he normally wore to the factory. The bruise that wrapped across his chest and around his ribs seemed to clothe him more fully than a shirt and Sean couldn’t help but frown as he looked at it.
“Don’t. You were smiling when you came in. Besides, it doesn’t hurt that much. What have you got there?” Orlando asked, dropping the shirt he had been about to put on and walking towards him.
“Papers.”
“I can see that, love, what sort of ‘papers’?”
“Uhm…” Sean shifted on his feet and looked to the floor, all his certainty had evaporated leaving him unsure of whatever had possessed him to make this move in the first place.
“Sean?” Orlando was eyeing him carefully, instantly tuned in to his lover’s hesitancy and discomfort.
“There – um – they’re the deeds to the flat and the new partnership deeds to the business.” He answered quietly, still not looking at Orlando.
“What do you mean, new deeds?”
Sean handed over the documents and waited as Orlando unrolled the papers and read the print. He watched as his lover read the lines on the page and a fine tremor began to shake the usually steady hands, the paper shivered in his grip as his eyes scanned the page. When he reached the seal at the bottom of the page he looked up.
“I don’t understand,” was all he said then he unrolled the other piece and read that too, his hands still shaking. He looked at the two documents, eyes flicking from one to the other almost desperately.
“I don’t understand Sean, what does this all mean?”
“Come on, lad. You’re not stupid, you know what joint ownership means, you know what partners are.”
“But you can’t do this, Sean, you just can’t…”
“It was my business to do as I please. Now it’s ours.”
“Me? A partner in this business? Joint ownership of 3a? Sean I can’t accept this,” Orlando looked pleadingly at him. Sean felt his heart give this strange leap at the thought that he had finally outfoxed the lad. He was doing his level best to protest but Sean could tell he wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life, now to reassure him that he meant exactly what Orli was hoping for.
“Orlando, I want you to accept this, I want us to share everything we have, be partners in all things from now, for the rest of our days. I want you to know that I love you and that this was as legally binding as I could make it.”
Orlando looked from the paper now clenched tightly in his fist and back up to Sean who was smiling helplessly, Orlando looked positively adorable when he floundered. It took Orli a moment to find his voice, but when he did his answer was simple.
“God, I love you.”
Sean reached out for him and found himself with his arms full before he had even had the chance to grab his lover.
Orlando pushed his lips against Sean’s, smiling into the kiss.
“Thank you.”
Sean returned the kiss pulling Orlando against him as lithe fingers flicked at the buttons of his shirt and a cool hand snaked underneath the material to push it off his shoulders, their chests crushed closely together, skin against skin. Sean took a shuddering breath as Orlando attacked his throat, licking and nipping underneath his jaw then down across his shoulders. Orlando turned him around, pushing him backwards towards the bed, pushing until he was sat on the edge of it. Sean leaned forward and swiped his tongue across Orli’s torso, feathering light kisses across his ribcage, healing the bruised area with the butterfly touches of his lips.
Sean took Orlando into his arms as his lover straddled him and kissed him, claiming his mouth in a deliciously slow and possessive move. Sean stripped Orlando of the trousers he was wearing then aided with the removal of his own cumbersome garments until they both lay naked and wrapped around each other. Sean was lying across Orlando and thinking how he could quite easily become obsessed with the little dip just above his lover’s hip as he nibbled it, when Orlando flipped him off and he landed flat on his back, pinned down by a burning, hungry gaze.
“Take me.” Orlando ordered in a deep whisper that Sean had not heard from him before but made him shiver, he desperately wanted to taste that voice in his mouth, feel it trip across his skin.
“Have you ever…?”
“No. So, take me. I want to feel you inside me, Sean.”
Sean leaned up and kissed him hard until he could hear the blood singing in his ears feel it rushing through him and making his body dance, they pulled apart, both gasping for air and each other.
“Orlando.”
His lover bucked against him, moaning that sweet deep whisper into his mouth, at that moment Sean would have done anything that Orlando asked of him as he drank his fill gratefully, feeling every inch of him.
Sean pulled Orlando down to him, kissing him again and rolling them over until his lover was trapped underneath him, then he flipped him onto his front and settled his weight on top of him. His chest pressed tightly against Orlando’s back as he ran his hands down Orli’s arms and pulled them up above his head. Orlando’s long fingers wrapped desperately around the iron bed frame and pushed upwards as Sean slowly dragged himself down Orlando’s body, kissing his spine with maddening little flicks and sucks until his lover was thrashing helplessly beneath him. Sean settled himself between Orlando’s legs pushing them wider apart to gain the access he wanted, rumbling encouragement moaned from above him as Sean’s tongue trailed the crease of his arse and pushed into the tight ring of muscle, making Orlando cry out with need and lust. Sean tongue fucked the hot opening, loosening the muscle, preparing Orli to accept him inside of him.
Sean pulled back and lifted Orlando to his knees and spooning behind him, trailing hot kisses down his neck as he pushed carefully into him, feeling the burn spreading through him, like flames licking every inch of his skin.
Orlando cried out as he pushed back, causing Sean to fill him completely and Sean caught his breath as he resisted the urge to give in and thrust wildly.
“Easy, lad, easy, or you’ll regret that tomorrow.”
“Never.” Orlando’s head shook in certain denial.
Sean pulled back carefully before sliding back into his lover working at a gentle rhythm that built with each movement they made, generating a beautiful synchronicity that felt agelessly natural.
Sean ran a calloused hand down Orlando’s torso to his cock, wrapping it in his fist and encouraging Orli to move with him, feeling every inch of his beautiful body against him, the feel of his very life resonating through his own.
Sean felt Orlando tighten around him as he hit his prostrate, he thrust again, breaking the rhythm and causing Orli to cry out and push back against him, too close to care about restraint any longer.
“Sean, please.”
“I’ve got you, love.”
Sean let go and allowed their passion carry them over the edge, pulling Orlando hard against him as he felt his orgasm rip through him, taking Sean with him with a cry of his name.
For a moment they lay still, Sean still deep inside his love, neither moved as a peace fell between them that could never be shattered, it was a moment of joining so deep that it needed no words, no movement.
Eventually Sean pulled out and Orlando rolled over and took him into his arms. Sean lay with his head on Orli’s chest, listening to the slowing beat of his heart, strong, tender arms held him and gentle lips pressed kisses into his hair. Sean knew now that he was free of the dull misery that had dominated his life previous to the arrival of the wild young man on his doorstep late one night.
He smiled and leaned up seeking a kiss, which he found easily.
“What?” Orli asked, looking down at Sean in bemused amusement.
“I was just remembering the night you turned up here, asking for a job and having no place to live.”
Orlando grinned and tightened his arms briefly around Sean’s shoulders.
“Yeah, I’d been in the Talbot asking about work and they told me not to try here because you ran your business in a ‘queer manner’. They were right, and so was I when I decided then and there that this would be the place for me.”
Sean snorted.
“You weren’t wrong. It may be a queer manner of business that’s run here but we run it together, now and always.”
“I can live with that.” Orlando kissed him lightly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, lad. Tomorrow we can take some of this stuff over to 3a, make it really feel like home.”
“Sounds perfect. You have to promise me one thing, though.”
“Anything,” Sean answered, unthinking, just willing to do anything that made Orli happy.
“You have to play nicely with Emmie, no scaring her.”
Sean spluttered and Orlando silenced him quickly, using the most effective and enjoyable method he knew, until Sean was purring beneath his ministrations.
“Good boy.” Orli whispered, kissing him again until the purring turned to a creeping growl and Sean flipped him onto his back, pinning him down.
“I’ll give you ‘good boy’.”
“You just did, it’s my turn next.” Orlando grinned cheekily up at him, amusement not quite hiding the underlying lust or the ever-present love in his eyes.
“Count on it, love.”
Sean kissed him hard with the promise of all they had to come.

THE END

.xx.