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fellowshippers2005-12-23 05:25 pm
cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-12-23 05:25 pm
2 little fluffy nothings
Title: First Theory of Thermodynamics
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cloudlessclimes
Rated: G
Pairing: OB/EW
Disclaimer: This is purely a product of my diseased mind and has no bearing on reality what so ever, I own no one, I know no one.
Summary: Orlando is under the weather. Elijah takes care of him.
Notes: I wrote this as a get well prezzie for my dearfyrefly101 when she was under the weather. (So glad you’re better, Jo!) It’s cheesy as hell and so sugary I’m quite sure you might get cavities, so proceed with caution. It’s in the same AU as the Ivy League stories.Inspired by my ex-boyfriend's weird obsessions with Lucozade and Jaffa Cakes.
Feedback:Makes the world go 'round
At the sound of a key turning in the lock, Orlando attempts to wrestle his way free from the suffocating warmth of the blanket nest around him. He gives it up as just too much damn work and slumps back down on to his mattress, head propped up by at least 10 plump pillows.
“‘Lidah? Dat yoo?” He tries to yell, but his throat is all poker-hot ground glass and his head is full of cotton-wool. The only success he has is triggering another coughing fit.
“Yeah, it’s me. Did I wake you?” Elijah crosses the unusually disorderly dorm room. Perching on the edge of the mattress, he shoves down the mess of covers while setting a white plastic bag on the floor at his feet. “You feeling any better?” he asks, concern clear on his face as he runs a hand across Orlando’s broad, sweat-damp forehead.
* * *
“Oday.”
Elijah frowned and put an arm around his boyfriend’s waist. Something was clearly wrong with Orlando for him to give in so easily to a request containing the words clinic and going and now. Orlando had stayed in bed all morning, missing practice, and a study session. Clearly very un-Orlando-like behavior. His brown eyes were glazed with fever and his cough had gotten worse. All clear signs this was more than “just a little cold” as Orlando’d tried to brush it off as the day before.
They didn’t have to wait long to see the clinic doctor–one benefit to being there during lecture time on a Tuesday morning. Elijah squeezed Orlando’s hand encouragingly as the taller man stood and followed the nurse into an exam room.
Elijah was flipping through an old Good Housekeeping, leg crossed over opposite knee, foot bouncing. Less than five minutes after he’d disappeared through the cheap melamine door, Orlando was back and standing in front of Elijah. Beneath the petechial bright signs of fever, Orlando’s face had taken on a gray pallor. “You okay?” Elijah again frowned in worry as he registered the signs of Orlando’s distress–he was gnawing on his lip and blinking quickly.
“Duh dogder thinks I hab...” Orlando’s voice broke and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Elijah’s. “A strepdocogal infection.” He bit his lip hard, wincing in pain as he swallowed.
As he exhaled, Elijah was very proud of himself for not laughing. “Oh, well, that’s not so bad then.” He linked his arm through Orlando’s and rubbed circles across his back.
“Id snot?” Orlando swayed on his feet.
“Nope. In your throat, right?” Elijah looked up as he took the paperwork out of Orlando’s shaking hand. The taller boy nodded, shoving his hands into his armpits.
“Hang on, okay?” They stopped in the long hallway outside the clinic and Elijah dug in his messenger bag. Producing his cell phone he gave Orlando’s arm a reassuring squeeze and thumbed through his address book. He hit a button and raised the phone to his ear. “Hey Dommie. Yup. Just leaving. Um, how do you say Strep Throat in British? Kay. Great. Yup, that’s it. I’m taking him back to rez now. Later. Thanks man.”
Elijah turned back to Orlando. Standing on his tip toes he reached up to brush errant dark curls back from a broad forehead. Placing a light kiss on the overheated skin, he said “Babe, you’re fine. You have Glandular Fever.”
“Oh.” Orlando blushed slightly. “Sowry for ober re-agding. Guess I shoulda tagen migro-bio when I hadda chance.” They continued out of the building and across campus to the Senior Residence.
“No no,” Elijah shook his head and smiled. “It can be serious. I’ll just have to make sure we take good care of you.” Elijah fished the paper he’d earlier taken from Orlando out of his pocket. “Doc gave you a prescription? “ He scanned the slip and nodded in affirmation at his own question. “I’ll just get you home and put you to bed and then I’ll go get this filled, okay?” Had Orlando not been beyond exhausted and mauzzy headed from fever he would have had some smart-assed retort to Elijah’s treating him like a four year old. Instead he just shrugged and let Elijah take him by the hand and up the steps to his dorm room. “Almost there, man.” Elijah slipped the key in the door while keeping a hold around Orlando’s waist.
“Bud, yoo shoul’ steh away frub me!” Orlando gasped and tried to wriggle free of Elijah’s hold. “Ahm condayjuss!!!”
The door swung open and Elijah ushered Orlando into the room with a hand at the small of his back. “Nah, it’s fine. I have, like, some freaky weird immune system. I’m, like, never sick. The last time I had so much as a cold was 1996. And strep; I’m a carrier. It never makes me sick. I just spread it to other people. I probably made you sick.” Elijah shoved Orlando down onto the twin bed, unzipping his jacket and peeling it down and off his shoulders.
“Danks,” Orlando sniffled and Elijah smiled up him. “Aye kin do dat.” Orlando made a half hearted try at shooing Elijah away and untying his own boots. Elijah just shoved him flat onto his back and continued to undress him. When Orlando tried to ruck his undershirt over his head Elijah grabbed at the hem. “Hey! Leave that on!”
“Bud Ahm zoh hawt!” Orlando whined. He didn’t protest again when Elijah wrestled him under the covers. He disappeared for a minute and returned bearing extra blankets and a pile of pillows. “Sit up a minute,” he instructed, hugging Orlando forward so he could put the pillows behind Orlando’s head and back.
“Too bad, man. You have a fever and feel like crap. You need to keep warm and rest.” Elijah gave the fading fast Orlando a reproachful look before turning and rifling though one of Orlando’s desk drawers. “Here, take these if your throat gets too bad.” He set a bottle of Tylenol on the bed side table and turned on the small lamp there. Turning to the window he closed the thick drapes, blocking out the clear winter sunshine. Elijah sat down on the bed and smiled down at Orlando, who was struggling to keep his eyes open. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Get some rest.” He took a bottle of water from his backpack and set it beside the Tylenol. He ruffled Orlando’s matted dark curls and ran a thumb across the back of Orlando’s hand.
Orlando just swallowed painfully and gave a half hearted nod when Elijah softly closed the door.
* * *
“Well, you’re sweaty, so I guess that means your fever’s better.” Elijah lets his hand slide down Orlando’s temple to stroke across the broad slope of his cheek bone. “You didn’t take any Tylenol?”
“Troat hurds too mush.” Orlando’s voice is a creaking whisper as his eyes and nose peek out over top of the blankets.
“No water either?” Elijah casts a disapproving glance at the still sealed bottle of water.
“It hurds Lidah!” Elijah suspects Orlando would be whining if he was capable of any kind of volume.
“Well, I got your Biaxcin, you better swallow that. You have to stay hydrated if you want to get better!” Elijah knows he sounds like his mother, but he can’t help it. “Oh, and I got some other stuff that might make you feel better.” He takes the small vial of pills out of his pocket and sets them alongside the other things on the small table, then reaches to his feet for the plastic bag.
Orlando seems to perk up at this, and struggles against the weight of the piled covers to better see what Elijah is doing. “Here,” Elijah takes a bottle out of the bag, twists off the cap and hands it to the pale boy in the bed.
The flat, glassy look in Orlando’s eyes is replaced with excitement. “Lucozade!?” He exclaims, before choking and bringing a hand to his inflamed throat. “Where’d you ged eet?”
“I have my sources.” Elijah smiles at Orlando’s pleasure. Personally he thinks the stuff is kind of disgusting, but he knows when he’s sick he likes to be at home with familiar things.
Taking a styrofoam container out of the bag, Elijah peels off the lid and Orlando leans over expectantly, clutching the sports drink to his chest. “Chicken soup! From the diner!” Elijah says with great pride. Orlando barely contains a heave as he stares into the viscous yellow liquid and the slick lumps of fat congealed on it’s surface. A disappointed frown curls the corners of Elijah’s lips, “Oh. I guess it got cold. Sorry.” He leans over and retrieves the antibiotics, opens the lid and shakes out two. “Here. Take these.”
Obligingly slinging the pills into his mouth and then taking a deep drought from the bottle of Lucozde, Orlando settles back into the mound of pillows. “Danks Lidah.”
Elijah smiles and kisses the red, roughened tip of Orlando’s nose. “Welcome,” he says softly. He sits up and in one fluid motion yanks his sweater over his head and off, letting it fall in an angora puddle in the middle of Orlando’s spotless dorm room floor. He toes off his high tops and then unfastens the buttons on his jeans.
“Whudder yew dew ink?” Orlando’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Ibe sig...”
“Relax, man. I’m just gonna...keep you company.” Elijah waggles his eyebrows and shoves his jeans the rest of the way down his legs, before burrowing under the blankets and shifting to get comfortable beside Orlando’s lanky frame in the tiny twin bed. “Have Methodologies this aft. All fucking Prof Bean does is read from the textbook, so it’s cool.” He tucks his head and places a chaste kiss to Orlando’s cotton clad shoulder.
“Oh, I almost forgot; Liv’s getting your notes in your math classes,” Elijah wriggles and twists, hauling Orlando close to him until the taller man settles into the sprawl of his legs and thumps his arm across Elijah’s chest. He coughs and winces before settling his head into the curve of Elijah’s shoulder.
“Dat’s gud. Lib tabes gud nodes.” Orlando nuzzles at Elijah’s bare skin before again bringing the bottle of sports drink to his lips.
Elijah sighs and threads his fingers through the sleep flattened mass of Orlando’s oaken curls. “And Dom’s gonna get bio, chem, and physics.”
“Dom?” Orlando sits up quickly, choking on his drink and trying to breathe around the burning pain in his throat.
Elijah thumps his boyfriend helpfully on the back before encouraging him back onto the pillows. “Dude, I know you’re likely to end up with pages full of Pig Latin, but he’s worried about you. He wants to help.”
Orlando makes a deeply dissatisfied grumping noise and draws his lips into a thin white line. “Bein’ sig sugs,” he mutters wearily.
Elijah strokes his hand down the back of Orlando’s neck, squeezing. Hooking one arm around thin shoulders, Elijah reaches over the side of the bed and once more into the plastic bag. “Here! Stop you’re whining.” Elijah grins as a small package lands in Orlando’s lap.
“Jaffa Cakes! My fav!” Orlando rouses himself to sit upright and enthusiastically tears off the cellophane. He withdraws a handful of the biscuits and promptly shoves them into his mouth, around his face splitting grin.“Ibe glad yer here, Lidah.” Orlando mumbles, his eyes drifting closed with a flutter of long lashes. “Yew wan wun?”
Elijah warily eyes the tiny discs that look to him like neon orange slices of cushion foam. “Uh...no thanks. They’re for you. Enjoy.” He pats Orlando’s long thigh and grins back at him.
“Want me to read to you, so you can maybe understand what the hell Dom’s on about when you get the notes?” Elijah settles Orlando--still chewing and making small, delighted happy food noises--once more against his shoulder. He takes a heavy black textbook off of Orlando’s desk and places it in his lap.
“Dat wud be nyse.” Orlando yawns and licks crumbs from the corners of his mouth, eyes still closed. “I godda read chabter seben.”
Shifting to get more comfortable, and again weaving his fingers through Orlando’s riotous curls, Elijah opens the book to chapter seven and begins to read in a slow, deliberate voice, “The law of temporal hierarchies of the biological world allows us to pick out of the biomass quasi-closed thermodynamic systems of a specific hierarchy. The use of this law of Nature as applied to supramolecular structures of organisms allows us the opportunity of using the methods of equilibrium supramolecular thermodynamics in the examination of open living systems. It has been proven that the second law of thermodynamics in its classic formulation is easy to apply to specific aspects of living systems in order to make calculations, carried out through methods of chemical, supramolecular and overall hierarchical thermodynamics. ”*
“Mmm, sowndz nyse Lidah.” Orlando murmurs into Elijah’s chest. “Eye lub yoo.” Orlando’s breathing loses it's hitching rasp and the slackened, boneless weight against him lets Elijah know that Orlando is finally, deeply, asleep.
“I lub you too, strep boy.” Elijah turns his head and whispers into Orlando’s ear. Then he turns back to the book, ready to keep reading. Too content to move, too happy to stop.
* is from an abstract on thermodynamic concepts in molecular biology. See? I knew not getting rid of my uni textbooks would come in handy some day!
Title: Adeste Fideles
Rated: 14A for language and innuendo
Pairing: OB/EW
Disclaimer: This is purely a product of my diseased mind and has no bearing on reality what so ever, I own no one, I know no one.
Summary: Orlando is frustrated and then Secret Santa comes along.
Notes: wrote this as a wishlist fic for the ever lovelypattybear. is in the Ivy League AU-y type world as above. I'm quite sure were I not already booked on the express train to hell my use and missuse of Xmas tunes would cement that fact.
Feedback:Makes the world go 'round
Being cross with Elijah is just one big self-defeating exercize in frustration.
Yeah, he said some stupid shit, and yes Orlando had snarked right back. But now, Elijah is taking fucking advantage, being petulant and childish and taking every opportunity to wind Orlando right the fuck up. Orlando's pressed up close to his boyfriend, perched on the same chair in the swealtering, packed coffee house listening to Liv and her hippy chick friends play the same damn chord over and over and murder some Indigo Girls song or other.
But all Orlando can see is Elijah.
Over and over he sucks and licks at the candy cane from his peppermint latte. Up and down and up and down, between glistening, pink, perfect lips, with the occasional tongue-tip swipe along the candy's length. Elijah's eyes are almost closed, feathery lashes vibrating with every contented exhalation. And...he's completely aware of what the fuck he's doing to Orlando. This is beyond frustration. Forget blue balls, Orlando is quite sure he's indigo from hips to knees. Little bastard is tapping his toe in time (if that's actually possible because Orlando's not even sure there is a consistant rhythm to anything being played) to the music, rubbing his knee into the outside of Orlando's cargo-panted thigh. Finally, Orlando can take no more. He slams his cappucino mug onto the table and makes a deeply perturbed noise at the back of his throat.
"Whu...?" Elijah opens his eyes and fixes Orlando with his sapphire-bright, earnest, gaze.
"You know exactly what the fuck whu!" Orlando stands and manages to hold on to his dignity as he winds his long striped scarf around his neck, shoves his knit cap on over his curls, and stalks out through the crowd.
Elijah snerks and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning onto the back legs of his chair as he watches his boyfriend sulk away.
"Yer a big meanie." Billy laughs beside him.
"Payback's a bitch, Billy lad." Elijah laughs and takes a gulp from his now tepid drink.
Billy cocks an eyebrow and looks back at the stage, where Liv and Miranda are trying to figure out how to make a guitar play with only 2 of it's strings left unbroken. "Your fight really that bad?"
"Nah..." Elijah's crystaline eyes sparkle with mirth in the candle light. "He's under a lot of pressure. I get that. Grad schools and all that shit. But dude, he so over-reacted to, like nothing. So, I figure, Orli can over-react; I can over-react. But I have a plan. It'll all work out." Elijah tilts forward and leans his elbows on the small round, table.
* * *
"Whu...?" Orlando snatches his cap from his head, twisting it back and forth between his long fingers. He casts a puzzled glance down the hallway and back to his dorm room door. It's covered in gaudy gold tinsle, various cheap dollar store decorations, and appears to be playing a dischordant, micro-chipped version of Jingle Bells. Resting tidily against the firedoor is a jaunity wrapped package.
Dom's door flies open and he smirks at his tall friend. "Secret Santa, mate."
Orlando reels to face Dom, wincing and trying to adjust his raging hard-on in a nondescript way. "Oh." Orlando bends at the waist to pick up the snowman papered box. With the ease of a task oft repeated, he keys open the door. Shrugging off his coat and scarf, Orlando doesn't even bothering to look as he flings both onto a low chair. He scratches his forehead and sets the box down on the desk, staring at it.
"Not gonna bite you, Orli." Orlando jumps at Dom's voice, loud beside him. He hadn't realised the other boy had followed him inside. He makes encouraging motions and Orlando sighs deeply, carefully sliding an index finger under the taped end. The paper falls away to reveal a small white box. Flipping the lid up, Orlando hazzards a glance inside. The golden skin of his cheek pinks and he rubs at his nose, embarrassed. "Uh," he clears his throat and slams the lid closed. "I sincerely doubt Saint Nicholas likes to spread this particular brand of cheer." He shifts until he is effectively standing between the desk and Dom.
Dom steps closer to Orlando. "Yeah? Lemme see!" Dom rockets forward with a speed Orlando has never seen before.
"No!" Orlando attempts to push Dom out of they way and only succeeds in colliding with the blonde man, and they both lurch back onto the desk. Orlando's elbow juts out and the box falls to the floor. And of course the lid falls open, spilling the contents onto the beige industrial carpet.
"Oh! My! God!" Dominic's eyes are huge as he slaps his hands over his mouth, an ineffective attempt to stifle his laughter. Spilled across the floor are a huge, pink, sparkly butt plug, and various other sex toy paraphinalia. Dom falls to his knees pawing through the packages and containers. "Boy Butter!?!" he sputters and gasps, tears of hysteria falling down his reddened cheeks. "For masturbation purposes only!" He gasps and shudders and slaps at the rug.
"Okay Okay, laughing boy." Orlando is frustrated and angry and has had just about fucking enough. "Mind your business and piss the fuck off." He hauls Dom up by the elbow and manages to fling him out the open doorway and unceremoniously slamming the door behind him.
Orlando scoops the spilled gift back into the box, closes the lid and flings it into the bin, where it lands half in, and half against the wall behind. "Fuck!!!" Orlando roars and slams himself down onto his bed. He palms at his eyes in exasporation and tilts his chin to eye his crotch. His erection is determindly tenting out the cotton at his groin and Orlando throws his arms wide in a disgruntled gesture. "Fucking treturous bastard," Orlando mumbles at his cock. He sighs deeply and then slips his hand down, shoving roughly at his still clothed dick.
A knock at the door causes Orlando to jerk his hand away, "Dom you tosser, I've had just about enough!" Orlando whips the door open and bellows, "I said PISS OFF!"
Elijah is standing, elbow cocked at the doorframe and hips canted in a casual gesture he knows always causes Orlando to come completely undone. He's slurping entusiastically at the same damn candy cane from the coffee house. "Hey," he says his voice bright, but his eyes are heavy lidded and desire practically radiates from his every pore. "You get my gift?"
Orlando chokes a little but manages to stutter, "Uh, yeah," while encouraging Elijah in from the hallway. "So," Orlando stands awkwardly apart from Elijah. He bites his lip and whatever he is about to say is drowned out by the electronic bleating of a slowly dieing Jingle Bells. Orlando cringes and picks at a small hole in his sweater.
"I take it Jingle Bells isn't your favourite Christmas tune." Elijah slowly crosses the small distance between them. He extends his hand to cover Orlando's busy fingers.
Orlando's broad mouth tilts up in a small smile and he threads his long fingers through Elijah's smaller, blunter ones. "Nope." He is still smiling, still staring at their joined hands.
"Peace on Earth?" Elijah offers in a jovial tone.
"Yeah, that's a good one," Orlando's voice softens as he strokes his thumb across Elijah's knuckles. "Joy to the World?"
"Adeste Fideles?" A slight tug brings Orlando closer still to Elijah.
"What in fuck's that?" Orlando tilts his head in inquiry, staring full into Elijah's eyes.
"Oh Come All Ye Faithful."
Orlando snorts and reels Elijah in close to him, the ghost of his laughter whispering across Elijah's temple.
"I highly doubt that's what they meant, ya sicko." Elijah giggles and lets Orlando cuddle him close.
"All part of my charm, yeah?"
"Yeah you bastard. Now let's just say we forgive each other for whatever the fuck it was we were fighting about in the first place!" Elijah tilts his lips to Orlando's and swipes his mouth across the broad smile twitching there.
"Oh Come Let Us Adore Him..." Orlando's voice is a sultry whisper as he gentles Elijah onto the bed, rucking up his t-shirt, and raining feather light kisses across the pale flesh beneath.
Author:
cloudlessclimes Rated: G
Pairing: OB/EW
Disclaimer: This is purely a product of my diseased mind and has no bearing on reality what so ever, I own no one, I know no one.
Summary: Orlando is under the weather. Elijah takes care of him.
Notes: I wrote this as a get well prezzie for my dear
fyrefly101 when she was under the weather. (So glad you’re better, Jo!) It’s cheesy as hell and so sugary I’m quite sure you might get cavities, so proceed with caution. It’s in the same AU as the Ivy League stories.Inspired by my ex-boyfriend's weird obsessions with Lucozade and Jaffa Cakes.Feedback:Makes the world go 'round
At the sound of a key turning in the lock, Orlando attempts to wrestle his way free from the suffocating warmth of the blanket nest around him. He gives it up as just too much damn work and slumps back down on to his mattress, head propped up by at least 10 plump pillows.
“‘Lidah? Dat yoo?” He tries to yell, but his throat is all poker-hot ground glass and his head is full of cotton-wool. The only success he has is triggering another coughing fit.
“Yeah, it’s me. Did I wake you?” Elijah crosses the unusually disorderly dorm room. Perching on the edge of the mattress, he shoves down the mess of covers while setting a white plastic bag on the floor at his feet. “You feeling any better?” he asks, concern clear on his face as he runs a hand across Orlando’s broad, sweat-damp forehead.
* * *
“Oday.”
Elijah frowned and put an arm around his boyfriend’s waist. Something was clearly wrong with Orlando for him to give in so easily to a request containing the words clinic and going and now. Orlando had stayed in bed all morning, missing practice, and a study session. Clearly very un-Orlando-like behavior. His brown eyes were glazed with fever and his cough had gotten worse. All clear signs this was more than “just a little cold” as Orlando’d tried to brush it off as the day before.
They didn’t have to wait long to see the clinic doctor–one benefit to being there during lecture time on a Tuesday morning. Elijah squeezed Orlando’s hand encouragingly as the taller man stood and followed the nurse into an exam room.
Elijah was flipping through an old Good Housekeeping, leg crossed over opposite knee, foot bouncing. Less than five minutes after he’d disappeared through the cheap melamine door, Orlando was back and standing in front of Elijah. Beneath the petechial bright signs of fever, Orlando’s face had taken on a gray pallor. “You okay?” Elijah again frowned in worry as he registered the signs of Orlando’s distress–he was gnawing on his lip and blinking quickly.
“Duh dogder thinks I hab...” Orlando’s voice broke and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Elijah’s. “A strepdocogal infection.” He bit his lip hard, wincing in pain as he swallowed.
As he exhaled, Elijah was very proud of himself for not laughing. “Oh, well, that’s not so bad then.” He linked his arm through Orlando’s and rubbed circles across his back.
“Id snot?” Orlando swayed on his feet.
“Nope. In your throat, right?” Elijah looked up as he took the paperwork out of Orlando’s shaking hand. The taller boy nodded, shoving his hands into his armpits.
“Hang on, okay?” They stopped in the long hallway outside the clinic and Elijah dug in his messenger bag. Producing his cell phone he gave Orlando’s arm a reassuring squeeze and thumbed through his address book. He hit a button and raised the phone to his ear. “Hey Dommie. Yup. Just leaving. Um, how do you say Strep Throat in British? Kay. Great. Yup, that’s it. I’m taking him back to rez now. Later. Thanks man.”
Elijah turned back to Orlando. Standing on his tip toes he reached up to brush errant dark curls back from a broad forehead. Placing a light kiss on the overheated skin, he said “Babe, you’re fine. You have Glandular Fever.”
“Oh.” Orlando blushed slightly. “Sowry for ober re-agding. Guess I shoulda tagen migro-bio when I hadda chance.” They continued out of the building and across campus to the Senior Residence.
“No no,” Elijah shook his head and smiled. “It can be serious. I’ll just have to make sure we take good care of you.” Elijah fished the paper he’d earlier taken from Orlando out of his pocket. “Doc gave you a prescription? “ He scanned the slip and nodded in affirmation at his own question. “I’ll just get you home and put you to bed and then I’ll go get this filled, okay?” Had Orlando not been beyond exhausted and mauzzy headed from fever he would have had some smart-assed retort to Elijah’s treating him like a four year old. Instead he just shrugged and let Elijah take him by the hand and up the steps to his dorm room. “Almost there, man.” Elijah slipped the key in the door while keeping a hold around Orlando’s waist.
“Bud, yoo shoul’ steh away frub me!” Orlando gasped and tried to wriggle free of Elijah’s hold. “Ahm condayjuss!!!”
The door swung open and Elijah ushered Orlando into the room with a hand at the small of his back. “Nah, it’s fine. I have, like, some freaky weird immune system. I’m, like, never sick. The last time I had so much as a cold was 1996. And strep; I’m a carrier. It never makes me sick. I just spread it to other people. I probably made you sick.” Elijah shoved Orlando down onto the twin bed, unzipping his jacket and peeling it down and off his shoulders.
“Danks,” Orlando sniffled and Elijah smiled up him. “Aye kin do dat.” Orlando made a half hearted try at shooing Elijah away and untying his own boots. Elijah just shoved him flat onto his back and continued to undress him. When Orlando tried to ruck his undershirt over his head Elijah grabbed at the hem. “Hey! Leave that on!”
“Bud Ahm zoh hawt!” Orlando whined. He didn’t protest again when Elijah wrestled him under the covers. He disappeared for a minute and returned bearing extra blankets and a pile of pillows. “Sit up a minute,” he instructed, hugging Orlando forward so he could put the pillows behind Orlando’s head and back.
“Too bad, man. You have a fever and feel like crap. You need to keep warm and rest.” Elijah gave the fading fast Orlando a reproachful look before turning and rifling though one of Orlando’s desk drawers. “Here, take these if your throat gets too bad.” He set a bottle of Tylenol on the bed side table and turned on the small lamp there. Turning to the window he closed the thick drapes, blocking out the clear winter sunshine. Elijah sat down on the bed and smiled down at Orlando, who was struggling to keep his eyes open. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Get some rest.” He took a bottle of water from his backpack and set it beside the Tylenol. He ruffled Orlando’s matted dark curls and ran a thumb across the back of Orlando’s hand.
Orlando just swallowed painfully and gave a half hearted nod when Elijah softly closed the door.
* * *
“Well, you’re sweaty, so I guess that means your fever’s better.” Elijah lets his hand slide down Orlando’s temple to stroke across the broad slope of his cheek bone. “You didn’t take any Tylenol?”
“Troat hurds too mush.” Orlando’s voice is a creaking whisper as his eyes and nose peek out over top of the blankets.
“No water either?” Elijah casts a disapproving glance at the still sealed bottle of water.
“It hurds Lidah!” Elijah suspects Orlando would be whining if he was capable of any kind of volume.
“Well, I got your Biaxcin, you better swallow that. You have to stay hydrated if you want to get better!” Elijah knows he sounds like his mother, but he can’t help it. “Oh, and I got some other stuff that might make you feel better.” He takes the small vial of pills out of his pocket and sets them alongside the other things on the small table, then reaches to his feet for the plastic bag.
Orlando seems to perk up at this, and struggles against the weight of the piled covers to better see what Elijah is doing. “Here,” Elijah takes a bottle out of the bag, twists off the cap and hands it to the pale boy in the bed.
The flat, glassy look in Orlando’s eyes is replaced with excitement. “Lucozade!?” He exclaims, before choking and bringing a hand to his inflamed throat. “Where’d you ged eet?”
“I have my sources.” Elijah smiles at Orlando’s pleasure. Personally he thinks the stuff is kind of disgusting, but he knows when he’s sick he likes to be at home with familiar things.
Taking a styrofoam container out of the bag, Elijah peels off the lid and Orlando leans over expectantly, clutching the sports drink to his chest. “Chicken soup! From the diner!” Elijah says with great pride. Orlando barely contains a heave as he stares into the viscous yellow liquid and the slick lumps of fat congealed on it’s surface. A disappointed frown curls the corners of Elijah’s lips, “Oh. I guess it got cold. Sorry.” He leans over and retrieves the antibiotics, opens the lid and shakes out two. “Here. Take these.”
Obligingly slinging the pills into his mouth and then taking a deep drought from the bottle of Lucozde, Orlando settles back into the mound of pillows. “Danks Lidah.”
Elijah smiles and kisses the red, roughened tip of Orlando’s nose. “Welcome,” he says softly. He sits up and in one fluid motion yanks his sweater over his head and off, letting it fall in an angora puddle in the middle of Orlando’s spotless dorm room floor. He toes off his high tops and then unfastens the buttons on his jeans.
“Whudder yew dew ink?” Orlando’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Ibe sig...”
“Relax, man. I’m just gonna...keep you company.” Elijah waggles his eyebrows and shoves his jeans the rest of the way down his legs, before burrowing under the blankets and shifting to get comfortable beside Orlando’s lanky frame in the tiny twin bed. “Have Methodologies this aft. All fucking Prof Bean does is read from the textbook, so it’s cool.” He tucks his head and places a chaste kiss to Orlando’s cotton clad shoulder.
“Oh, I almost forgot; Liv’s getting your notes in your math classes,” Elijah wriggles and twists, hauling Orlando close to him until the taller man settles into the sprawl of his legs and thumps his arm across Elijah’s chest. He coughs and winces before settling his head into the curve of Elijah’s shoulder.
“Dat’s gud. Lib tabes gud nodes.” Orlando nuzzles at Elijah’s bare skin before again bringing the bottle of sports drink to his lips.
Elijah sighs and threads his fingers through the sleep flattened mass of Orlando’s oaken curls. “And Dom’s gonna get bio, chem, and physics.”
“Dom?” Orlando sits up quickly, choking on his drink and trying to breathe around the burning pain in his throat.
Elijah thumps his boyfriend helpfully on the back before encouraging him back onto the pillows. “Dude, I know you’re likely to end up with pages full of Pig Latin, but he’s worried about you. He wants to help.”
Orlando makes a deeply dissatisfied grumping noise and draws his lips into a thin white line. “Bein’ sig sugs,” he mutters wearily.
Elijah strokes his hand down the back of Orlando’s neck, squeezing. Hooking one arm around thin shoulders, Elijah reaches over the side of the bed and once more into the plastic bag. “Here! Stop you’re whining.” Elijah grins as a small package lands in Orlando’s lap.
“Jaffa Cakes! My fav!” Orlando rouses himself to sit upright and enthusiastically tears off the cellophane. He withdraws a handful of the biscuits and promptly shoves them into his mouth, around his face splitting grin.“Ibe glad yer here, Lidah.” Orlando mumbles, his eyes drifting closed with a flutter of long lashes. “Yew wan wun?”
Elijah warily eyes the tiny discs that look to him like neon orange slices of cushion foam. “Uh...no thanks. They’re for you. Enjoy.” He pats Orlando’s long thigh and grins back at him.
“Want me to read to you, so you can maybe understand what the hell Dom’s on about when you get the notes?” Elijah settles Orlando--still chewing and making small, delighted happy food noises--once more against his shoulder. He takes a heavy black textbook off of Orlando’s desk and places it in his lap.
“Dat wud be nyse.” Orlando yawns and licks crumbs from the corners of his mouth, eyes still closed. “I godda read chabter seben.”
Shifting to get more comfortable, and again weaving his fingers through Orlando’s riotous curls, Elijah opens the book to chapter seven and begins to read in a slow, deliberate voice, “The law of temporal hierarchies of the biological world allows us to pick out of the biomass quasi-closed thermodynamic systems of a specific hierarchy. The use of this law of Nature as applied to supramolecular structures of organisms allows us the opportunity of using the methods of equilibrium supramolecular thermodynamics in the examination of open living systems. It has been proven that the second law of thermodynamics in its classic formulation is easy to apply to specific aspects of living systems in order to make calculations, carried out through methods of chemical, supramolecular and overall hierarchical thermodynamics. ”*
“Mmm, sowndz nyse Lidah.” Orlando murmurs into Elijah’s chest. “Eye lub yoo.” Orlando’s breathing loses it's hitching rasp and the slackened, boneless weight against him lets Elijah know that Orlando is finally, deeply, asleep.
“I lub you too, strep boy.” Elijah turns his head and whispers into Orlando’s ear. Then he turns back to the book, ready to keep reading. Too content to move, too happy to stop.
* is from an abstract on thermodynamic concepts in molecular biology. See? I knew not getting rid of my uni textbooks would come in handy some day!
Title: Adeste Fideles
Rated: 14A for language and innuendo
Pairing: OB/EW
Disclaimer: This is purely a product of my diseased mind and has no bearing on reality what so ever, I own no one, I know no one.
Summary: Orlando is frustrated and then Secret Santa comes along.
Notes: wrote this as a wishlist fic for the ever lovely
pattybear. is in the Ivy League AU-y type world as above. I'm quite sure were I not already booked on the express train to hell my use and missuse of Xmas tunes would cement that fact.Feedback:Makes the world go 'round
Being cross with Elijah is just one big self-defeating exercize in frustration.
Yeah, he said some stupid shit, and yes Orlando had snarked right back. But now, Elijah is taking fucking advantage, being petulant and childish and taking every opportunity to wind Orlando right the fuck up. Orlando's pressed up close to his boyfriend, perched on the same chair in the swealtering, packed coffee house listening to Liv and her hippy chick friends play the same damn chord over and over and murder some Indigo Girls song or other.
But all Orlando can see is Elijah.
Over and over he sucks and licks at the candy cane from his peppermint latte. Up and down and up and down, between glistening, pink, perfect lips, with the occasional tongue-tip swipe along the candy's length. Elijah's eyes are almost closed, feathery lashes vibrating with every contented exhalation. And...he's completely aware of what the fuck he's doing to Orlando. This is beyond frustration. Forget blue balls, Orlando is quite sure he's indigo from hips to knees. Little bastard is tapping his toe in time (if that's actually possible because Orlando's not even sure there is a consistant rhythm to anything being played) to the music, rubbing his knee into the outside of Orlando's cargo-panted thigh. Finally, Orlando can take no more. He slams his cappucino mug onto the table and makes a deeply perturbed noise at the back of his throat.
"Whu...?" Elijah opens his eyes and fixes Orlando with his sapphire-bright, earnest, gaze.
"You know exactly what the fuck whu!" Orlando stands and manages to hold on to his dignity as he winds his long striped scarf around his neck, shoves his knit cap on over his curls, and stalks out through the crowd.
Elijah snerks and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning onto the back legs of his chair as he watches his boyfriend sulk away.
"Yer a big meanie." Billy laughs beside him.
"Payback's a bitch, Billy lad." Elijah laughs and takes a gulp from his now tepid drink.
Billy cocks an eyebrow and looks back at the stage, where Liv and Miranda are trying to figure out how to make a guitar play with only 2 of it's strings left unbroken. "Your fight really that bad?"
"Nah..." Elijah's crystaline eyes sparkle with mirth in the candle light. "He's under a lot of pressure. I get that. Grad schools and all that shit. But dude, he so over-reacted to, like nothing. So, I figure, Orli can over-react; I can over-react. But I have a plan. It'll all work out." Elijah tilts forward and leans his elbows on the small round, table.
* * *
"Whu...?" Orlando snatches his cap from his head, twisting it back and forth between his long fingers. He casts a puzzled glance down the hallway and back to his dorm room door. It's covered in gaudy gold tinsle, various cheap dollar store decorations, and appears to be playing a dischordant, micro-chipped version of Jingle Bells. Resting tidily against the firedoor is a jaunity wrapped package.
Dom's door flies open and he smirks at his tall friend. "Secret Santa, mate."
Orlando reels to face Dom, wincing and trying to adjust his raging hard-on in a nondescript way. "Oh." Orlando bends at the waist to pick up the snowman papered box. With the ease of a task oft repeated, he keys open the door. Shrugging off his coat and scarf, Orlando doesn't even bothering to look as he flings both onto a low chair. He scratches his forehead and sets the box down on the desk, staring at it.
"Not gonna bite you, Orli." Orlando jumps at Dom's voice, loud beside him. He hadn't realised the other boy had followed him inside. He makes encouraging motions and Orlando sighs deeply, carefully sliding an index finger under the taped end. The paper falls away to reveal a small white box. Flipping the lid up, Orlando hazzards a glance inside. The golden skin of his cheek pinks and he rubs at his nose, embarrassed. "Uh," he clears his throat and slams the lid closed. "I sincerely doubt Saint Nicholas likes to spread this particular brand of cheer." He shifts until he is effectively standing between the desk and Dom.
Dom steps closer to Orlando. "Yeah? Lemme see!" Dom rockets forward with a speed Orlando has never seen before.
"No!" Orlando attempts to push Dom out of they way and only succeeds in colliding with the blonde man, and they both lurch back onto the desk. Orlando's elbow juts out and the box falls to the floor. And of course the lid falls open, spilling the contents onto the beige industrial carpet.
"Oh! My! God!" Dominic's eyes are huge as he slaps his hands over his mouth, an ineffective attempt to stifle his laughter. Spilled across the floor are a huge, pink, sparkly butt plug, and various other sex toy paraphinalia. Dom falls to his knees pawing through the packages and containers. "Boy Butter!?!" he sputters and gasps, tears of hysteria falling down his reddened cheeks. "For masturbation purposes only!" He gasps and shudders and slaps at the rug.
"Okay Okay, laughing boy." Orlando is frustrated and angry and has had just about fucking enough. "Mind your business and piss the fuck off." He hauls Dom up by the elbow and manages to fling him out the open doorway and unceremoniously slamming the door behind him.
Orlando scoops the spilled gift back into the box, closes the lid and flings it into the bin, where it lands half in, and half against the wall behind. "Fuck!!!" Orlando roars and slams himself down onto his bed. He palms at his eyes in exasporation and tilts his chin to eye his crotch. His erection is determindly tenting out the cotton at his groin and Orlando throws his arms wide in a disgruntled gesture. "Fucking treturous bastard," Orlando mumbles at his cock. He sighs deeply and then slips his hand down, shoving roughly at his still clothed dick.
A knock at the door causes Orlando to jerk his hand away, "Dom you tosser, I've had just about enough!" Orlando whips the door open and bellows, "I said PISS OFF!"
Elijah is standing, elbow cocked at the doorframe and hips canted in a casual gesture he knows always causes Orlando to come completely undone. He's slurping entusiastically at the same damn candy cane from the coffee house. "Hey," he says his voice bright, but his eyes are heavy lidded and desire practically radiates from his every pore. "You get my gift?"
Orlando chokes a little but manages to stutter, "Uh, yeah," while encouraging Elijah in from the hallway. "So," Orlando stands awkwardly apart from Elijah. He bites his lip and whatever he is about to say is drowned out by the electronic bleating of a slowly dieing Jingle Bells. Orlando cringes and picks at a small hole in his sweater.
"I take it Jingle Bells isn't your favourite Christmas tune." Elijah slowly crosses the small distance between them. He extends his hand to cover Orlando's busy fingers.
Orlando's broad mouth tilts up in a small smile and he threads his long fingers through Elijah's smaller, blunter ones. "Nope." He is still smiling, still staring at their joined hands.
"Peace on Earth?" Elijah offers in a jovial tone.
"Yeah, that's a good one," Orlando's voice softens as he strokes his thumb across Elijah's knuckles. "Joy to the World?"
"Adeste Fideles?" A slight tug brings Orlando closer still to Elijah.
"What in fuck's that?" Orlando tilts his head in inquiry, staring full into Elijah's eyes.
"Oh Come All Ye Faithful."
Orlando snorts and reels Elijah in close to him, the ghost of his laughter whispering across Elijah's temple.
"I highly doubt that's what they meant, ya sicko." Elijah giggles and lets Orlando cuddle him close.
"All part of my charm, yeah?"
"Yeah you bastard. Now let's just say we forgive each other for whatever the fuck it was we were fighting about in the first place!" Elijah tilts his lips to Orlando's and swipes his mouth across the broad smile twitching there.
"Oh Come Let Us Adore Him..." Orlando's voice is a sultry whisper as he gentles Elijah onto the bed, rucking up his t-shirt, and raining feather light kisses across the pale flesh beneath.