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http://users.livejournal.com/nixxie_/) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2002-08-21 01:19 am
http://users.livejournal.com/nixxie_/) wrote in fellowshippers2002-08-21 01:19 am
Fic: Party Animal 8/? Karl/Orlando - NC-17
Title: Party Animal 8/?
Author: Nixxie + Chelle
Pairing: Karl/Orlando
Rating: NC17
Archive: Beyond the Fellowship and http://www.livejournal.com/users/nixxie_/
E-mail addresses for feedback: nix@nixxie.co.uk + seans_muse@hotmail.com
Disclaimers: If PJ ever threw a party like this we’re sure Orlando and Karl never did this…though if they did why weren’t we given invites?
Warnings: Real Person Slash – meaning these are based on real people, whether they really do this stuff is up to them... but if they want to share I’d not say no to a nice seat nearby and a bucket of popcorn.
Authors notes: This is written as part of a RPG. Orlando belongs to Chelle and Karl belongs to Nixxie. The POV changes from one to the other. Written in third person with thoughts as ‘//...//’ And emphasis as ‘*…*’
(Party Animal 8/?)
‘I'm beginning to think I'm just out of place
Won't get in too deep, I want to get some sleep.’
Peter Gabriel: Waiting for the big one
Orlando swallowed hard, almost close enough to feel the slide of Urban's tongue over parted lips. Orlando felt his throat tighten. //*Christ*// His heart hammered in his chest. He wondered, vaguely, what the *hell* he was doing here, exactly--
But then, the answer was too simple. He was dancing, and he was...
...he was losing a bet. To this-- this cocky *bastard* who had terrible taste in clothing, and who'd laughed at Orlando like he was just some punk kid, and who could dance like he was Orlando's heartbeat. Orlando could feel the heat of him sinking through his skin, simmering hot through his veins, swirling through his blood. Wanted more of this -- needed to *feel* more than just ghost-fire.
Didn't falter a step; was dancing a fraction away one second, and the next was touching. Shut out the small, watery voice telling him to stop, to think -- didn't *want* to think, goddamnit! Wasn't thinking, was needing, was *feeling* -- pushing up against Urban,
chest and stomach touching, back arching gently into the man, hands still away and free, eyelids fluttering once as his eyes fought to keep focus so close to Urban's.
~~~~~~~~
And so, Orlando gave...gave of his own free will, their heartbeats matched, synchronised as one chest pushed against the other, then breathing matched, one in, one out, as Orlando's stomach found a partner, hips pushing forwards as back arched, hands hanging un-needed. And the look in Orlando's eyes...Karl's chest panged at the look from fluttery eyelids, such need, such passion, such giving...
//As you give to me I take from you//
Karl moved his hands up Orlando's sides, finally touching him, finally being allowed to touch. They moved up and around till they clasped onto shoulder blades from behind, making Orlando fall forward a bare millimetre till he was held secured in Karl's strong arms. And
Karl took.
Eyes un-focused as Karl swooped forwards, lips dropping onto Orlando's with such force, such passion as to melt. And took, sucked, drew from Orlando everything he was willing to give. Karl claimed, showed the throng around them to whom this body now belonged.
//Mine. Given willingly and taken freely. Mine.//
~~~~~~~~
Orlando's heart jumped and clattered against his ribs as hands slid up his sides, over his back. And oh, God...! There was a scarlet instant when the world froze, when everything in the universe condensed and centred in the fingers splayed hot and tight across Orlando's shoulders.
And suddenly, so fast Orlando's eyes hardly had time to flicker reflexively closed, there were lips -- closing over his, bruising, demanding. Lightning brushed and seared through Orlando's veins, and Orlando tried to say something but couldn't, the sound choked away into a little frightened noise low in his throat. It wasn't a dance anymore, was becoming something else altogether. Something that Orlando shouldn't be allowing, something that shouldn't be happening, not to him, no! *No,* because--
Because...
But the panic burned away too quickly under the heat of those lips, of the hands gone hot velvet and steel, holding him. Pulling him impossibly closer. And Orlando couldn't find a single reason why this, this kiss, this not-dance, shouldn't be happening. And oh, but there were a thousand reasons why it *should.* So he kissed back, let his body press wanton and wanting against Urban's -- let his lips part and give everything, body and soul torn open and yielding.
Begging.
tbc…
Author: Nixxie + Chelle
Pairing: Karl/Orlando
Rating: NC17
Archive: Beyond the Fellowship and http://www.livejournal.com/users/nixxie_/
E-mail addresses for feedback: nix@nixxie.co.uk + seans_muse@hotmail.com
Disclaimers: If PJ ever threw a party like this we’re sure Orlando and Karl never did this…though if they did why weren’t we given invites?
Warnings: Real Person Slash – meaning these are based on real people, whether they really do this stuff is up to them... but if they want to share I’d not say no to a nice seat nearby and a bucket of popcorn.
Authors notes: This is written as part of a RPG. Orlando belongs to Chelle and Karl belongs to Nixxie. The POV changes from one to the other. Written in third person with thoughts as ‘//...//’ And emphasis as ‘*…*’
(Party Animal 8/?)
‘I'm beginning to think I'm just out of place
Won't get in too deep, I want to get some sleep.’
Peter Gabriel: Waiting for the big one
Orlando swallowed hard, almost close enough to feel the slide of Urban's tongue over parted lips. Orlando felt his throat tighten. //*Christ*// His heart hammered in his chest. He wondered, vaguely, what the *hell* he was doing here, exactly--
But then, the answer was too simple. He was dancing, and he was...
...he was losing a bet. To this-- this cocky *bastard* who had terrible taste in clothing, and who'd laughed at Orlando like he was just some punk kid, and who could dance like he was Orlando's heartbeat. Orlando could feel the heat of him sinking through his skin, simmering hot through his veins, swirling through his blood. Wanted more of this -- needed to *feel* more than just ghost-fire.
Didn't falter a step; was dancing a fraction away one second, and the next was touching. Shut out the small, watery voice telling him to stop, to think -- didn't *want* to think, goddamnit! Wasn't thinking, was needing, was *feeling* -- pushing up against Urban,
chest and stomach touching, back arching gently into the man, hands still away and free, eyelids fluttering once as his eyes fought to keep focus so close to Urban's.
~~~~~~~~
And so, Orlando gave...gave of his own free will, their heartbeats matched, synchronised as one chest pushed against the other, then breathing matched, one in, one out, as Orlando's stomach found a partner, hips pushing forwards as back arched, hands hanging un-needed. And the look in Orlando's eyes...Karl's chest panged at the look from fluttery eyelids, such need, such passion, such giving...
//As you give to me I take from you//
Karl moved his hands up Orlando's sides, finally touching him, finally being allowed to touch. They moved up and around till they clasped onto shoulder blades from behind, making Orlando fall forward a bare millimetre till he was held secured in Karl's strong arms. And
Karl took.
Eyes un-focused as Karl swooped forwards, lips dropping onto Orlando's with such force, such passion as to melt. And took, sucked, drew from Orlando everything he was willing to give. Karl claimed, showed the throng around them to whom this body now belonged.
//Mine. Given willingly and taken freely. Mine.//
~~~~~~~~
Orlando's heart jumped and clattered against his ribs as hands slid up his sides, over his back. And oh, God...! There was a scarlet instant when the world froze, when everything in the universe condensed and centred in the fingers splayed hot and tight across Orlando's shoulders.
And suddenly, so fast Orlando's eyes hardly had time to flicker reflexively closed, there were lips -- closing over his, bruising, demanding. Lightning brushed and seared through Orlando's veins, and Orlando tried to say something but couldn't, the sound choked away into a little frightened noise low in his throat. It wasn't a dance anymore, was becoming something else altogether. Something that Orlando shouldn't be allowing, something that shouldn't be happening, not to him, no! *No,* because--
Because...
But the panic burned away too quickly under the heat of those lips, of the hands gone hot velvet and steel, holding him. Pulling him impossibly closer. And Orlando couldn't find a single reason why this, this kiss, this not-dance, shouldn't be happening. And oh, but there were a thousand reasons why it *should.* So he kissed back, let his body press wanton and wanting against Urban's -- let his lips part and give everything, body and soul torn open and yielding.
Begging.
tbc…