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fellowshippers2006-02-15 08:22 pm
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-02-15 08:22 pm
Happy V-day!
Title: "Intoxicate" & "Anal Sex"
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Pairing: DM/EW and OB/BB, DM/EW
Rating: both are a pretty hard R
Disclaimer: Ha. True? I wish.
Feedback: Pretty please?
Summary: I thought it might be appropriate, after the Day of Depression, to debut two Drunken Fics. The first, Intoxicate, was written sober, and is therefore better. The second, Anal Sex, was written only when under the influence of alcohol. It took about three tries to finish, and I did correct spelling while sober, however I didn't do heavy editing since the idea of an actual drunk fic is kind of funny. Enjoy!
The music, at least, should have tipped him off to the fact that this was going to be a surreal evening.
A techno remix of “Carmina Burana” thumped in time with the artificial lighting, iridescent blues and purples flashing slow strobe shadows on the curvaceous white walls. The room was supposedly designed to resemble a cave, but really just made Elijah feel a little uneasy as he tried to slink unnoticed among the fashionably dressed London yuppie population. He wrinkled his nose and frowned when his eye found the purpose of this evening out. The friend was a regular in this place and certainly looked like it, laughing and casually leaning into his companion at the bar, as said companion fished a cherry out of his highball glass with a challenging smile and lifted it in offering.
Elijah’s eyes went wide, too wide, and he had to check his emotions and slink back against the wall a bit as he watched Orli’s long, slender fingers raise the decadent fruit by the stem and slowly lower it into Dom’s waiting mouth. Slick lips parted to accept the cherry, still glistening slightly with the remains of an earlier consumed gin and tonic. Elijah found himself unable tear his gaze away as pearly white teeth sank into the fruit, syrupy red juice trickling into the slight dip below Dom’s lower lip in a fashion that was almost obscene. Oh great, Dom’s popped Orli’s cherry, Elijah thought with a bitter smirk as his friend finally sucked the remainder of the fruit into his mouth and swallowed, head tilted back still, neck shifting slightly to allow the food passage, and oh but didn’t that just remind Elijah of another sort of action, Dominic’s greedy tongue swiping one last time around his…
Orli laughed, sharply, raising his glass to Dom in a sort of salute and taking a slow sip, his dark eyes smiling but almost predatory over the rim. Elijah looked down, looked away, couldn’t look. He was sure if he did, his eyes would be gleaming in a fashion that couldn’t be ignored, and Orli would just have to notice, and that couldn’t happen. No, he had to keep the upper hand here, and so he casually plucked a laminated menu from a countertop built into the sloping archway of a wall, trying to blend himself into the curvature as he read but succeeding only in creating a twinge of discomfort in his lower back. Blast these fucking trendophiles, he thought to himself as he tried to look cool, tried not to look out of place. He was sure that anyone in the joint could pick him out in a moment, though, knowing that the black silk shirt and the pinstriped pants were only a façade, lifted from H&M this morning in a passing attempt at chic, nothing like his everyday wardrobe. Dominic, on the other hand was completely in his element, his jeans and blazer matching perfectly with the black-haired women and their minskirts, his eyeliner and Sex Pistols t-shirt making him look slightly younger and punker than he really was, but an outfit still completely at home on his lithe body. Dom belonged here, and so did Orli, Elijah admitted to himself with a snort. Best concentrate on the menu, find something appropriate to order…
As his eyes scanned the vast selection of cocktails with names hardly seeming to denote an actual liquid substance worth consuming, he noticed one figure out of his periphery. At a high table, in a darkened corner that not even the gaudy lighting could reach, a man sat, probably in his thirties, glasses balanced just on the bridge of his nose as he focused on a paperback copy of the Silmarillion. Elijah snorted, coughed, sputtered, tried to avoid laughing aloud and attracting any attention to himself. Well at least he wasn’t the utmost out of place in the establishment, he reasoned, but then a leggy blonde approached the man, wrapped her leg provocatively between his on the stool, and maybe he would retract that judgment. Still, this could be perceived as a good sign, right? If this guy could succeed so obviously, then maybe Elijah, card-carrying dork with the Playstation record to prove it, could snag his own leggy blonde. Well, leggy was the wrong word, but at least Dom was a better makeup artist than the chick in question. Elijah allowed himself a small smile and then, casually as possible, approached the bar.
“I’ll have a Brandy Alexander,” he requested, receiving a curt nod from the bartender in question, and slid a ten-pound note forward. His accent surely stood out in the place, but he wouldn’t let his head twist even a centimetre to the right, no, it was best this way. Let him come to you, he reminded himself, shades of an internal pep talk held earlier, in the underground, in the hotel room, on the plane. Do not look eager.
An agonizing seven and a half minutes later (Friday night rush be damned), the bartender slid a martini glass to Elijah, and he nodded in thanks. The drink was none too impressive looking, cream colored and rather plain for such a classy place, but it sounded to Elijah like something sophisticated people would drink, a real London elite beverage, not too farm-boy, not something that would remind Dom that Orlando was, indeed, the sophisticated one.
Elijah lifted the drink carefully and placed his lips to the rim, tilting slightly to sip at the sweet and creamy liquid. His focus was carefully dulled, fixed on an indeterminate spot behind the bar, but as he replaced the glass he let his tongue swipe slowly over the cream on his lower lip, hoping that his target was paying attention and would get the message. When he went for a second taste, he wasn’t entirely successful at keeping his balance, and a bit of the liquid sloshed over the rim and onto his fingers, but he refused to admit defeat. With as much composure as he could manage, despite feeling a teeny bit ridiculous at such a flirtatious gesture in the direction of a man he hadn’t even acknowledged yet, he set the glass back on the bar and raised his right hand to his lips, tongue darting out just enough to suggest, but not enough to show that he was consciously suggesting. He traced the curve between thumb and forefinger, lapping up the spilled alcohol like a cat, and quickly sucked on each knuckle in turn, the tip of his tongue leading the movement before his lips attached to skin a bit more lasciviously than was absolutely necessary.
Careful not to display anything other than calm disinterest on his face, Elijah finished the drink quickly, allowing the Remy Grand Cru to pleasantly tickle the back of his throat and feeling more confident as he felt a light buzz begin to settle in. The song had switched to a Garbage tune, “Androgyny,” and Elijah smiled, mouthing the lyrics to himself as he watched his second cocktail be made.
“Boys in the parlour, they’re getting harder, I’ll free your mind and your androgyny…”
“Sir?” Elijah smiled toothily as he accepted the pineapple margarita, adorned with two straws and a lime. He considered the straws for a moment before twisting the stem a hundred and eighty degrees in his hand, leaning in instead to lick a trail of sugar from the rim before taking a sip. It was sweet, sweeter than he expected, but when he took a deeper gulp he could taste the bite of tequila. Slowly, he worked his way around the glass, tongue and lips teasing the sugar-coated rim, until a breath on his jaw nearly made him drop his glass. As it was, the drink tilted uneasily in his hand, and a bit sloshed over the rim despite his best efforts. This, however, was the last thing he was thinking of when a familiar voice rumbled in his right ear.
“Are you always such a bloody fucking tease, Elijah?” Elijah gasped in a breath and snapped his head sideways to lock on Dom’s eyes as he roughly grabbed Elijah’s wrist away from the recently set-down glass and slid his tongue seductively around and between Elijah’s fingers. Elijah could do nothing but stare as Dom’s lips closed over his index finger, sucking lightly, and continued the treatment across his hand until every bit of liquid was lapped up.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he tried to reply, but it came out as more of a stammer, and he was beginning to wonder what the hell he was doing flying halfway across the world just to ambush one of his best mates in some sort of half-witted seduction ploy, anyway.
“This what you want, ‘Lijah?” Dom’s voice was rough, gravelly, not quite what Elijah was used to, ignoring Elijah’s snarky comment. Elijah just stared for a moment before nodding, hurriedly, conceding the loss of control and conveying his intent before Dom ran off. Dom snickered before his hand darted behind Elijah’s head, lightning-fast, and grabbed the back of his neck in a vice grip as he delivered a hot, sloppy kiss to Elijah’s waiting mouth. “And here I thought it was all for Orli,” Dom whispered against his lips. Elijah’s eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically, realizing just then how his own jealousy clouded his judgment. What if Orli had misread Elijah’s intentions and been standing in Dom’s place? Elijah wasn’t sure he could’ve lived through the embarrassment.
“No… Dom… you…” His voice came out hoarse, much more desperate than he had intended, but Dom just smiled.
“Me, love? Just me?” Elijah nodded eagerly, deciding then and there that Dom’s accent was sexier than any other Brit in the place. Including the leggy ones.
Dom’s smile widened at Elijah’s apparent enthusiasm and let his lips just brush Elijah’s own as he spoke again. “What would you like to do to me, Elijah? Want to tell me that?”
“Everything,” Elijah breathed as Dom’s lips dropped teasingly to Elijah’s neck, little love bites sucked out in sharp relief against the pale of Elijah’s skin.
“Define everything,” Dom insisted, his tone a little harsh as his thumbs caressed just under the hem of Elijah’s shirt, publicity and paparazzi be damned.
“Fuck me, Dommie,” Elijah gasp-whispered, and even Dom’s eyes went wide at the insistence there. He recovered quickly, however, and grinned widely, tugging Elijah roughly off the barstool so that he stood, flush against Dom’s body, drink completely forgotten behind him.
“Come with me,” he whispered, and Elijah stumbled along after him, hand warm in Dom’s own, barely registering the smirk and wink of approval they received from Orli as they passed. Dom tugged him quickly up the stairs to the upper lounge, almost too quickly, Elijah narrowly avoiding a stumble on the steep flight.
The upstairs area was calmer, featuring low lighting but no bar, and dotted with leather couches and chaises between low glass tables. A few couples and groups sat around, chatting intimately, but Dom led Elijah past them, around a corner to the most out of the way loveseat, shadowed in a corner away from prying eyes. Elijah nearly squeaked as Dom pushed him roughly down into the soft leather cushions, and Dom just smirked at the sound, lowering himself one knee at a time to straddle Elijah’s lap, shutting those wide blue eyes with a sound kiss.
Elijah moaned helplessly into Dom’s mouth, hands scrambling for purchase as Dom’s own grabbed Elijah’s hips in a bruising grip, grinding down against his erection almost painfully. Elijah gasped when Dom’s right hand trailed up his side to end up twisted tightly in his hair, and let Dom plunder his mouth with an eager tongue, almost forgetting that they were in a public place at all when Dom’s thighs flexed against his own, grinding them relentlessly together.
“Regrettably, love, I can’t fuck you here…” Dom continued their “conversation” in a low tone, biting Elijah’s earlobe as he spoke. “…well, I could, but it might raise some eyebrows, don’t you think?” he continued, tongue teasing behind Elijah’s ear as his hands slid up under Elijah’s shirt.
“I wouldn’t protest,” Elijah replied weakly, tipping his head back in abandon as Dom turned to nibble at his throat, laughing softly.
“No, love, I’m sure you wouldn’t. But I don’t want our first time to be like this, yeah?” Elijah groaned when he forced himself to look up into Dom’s eyes, steely with lust, but he had to agree. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to make it home like this, though,” he pointed out with a little growl that would have been silly in any other circumstance. Now, though, it was incredibly fucking sexy, and Elijah had to bite Dom’s lip hard enough to bruise when Dom simultaneously claimed his mouth in a rough kiss and snapped Elijah’s fly open, his hand pressing gracelessly underneath strained fabric. Dom groaned briefly in pain, but then pulled back, smirking as he shifted his weight back to get better access beneath Elijah’s briefs and stared intently into Elijah’s eyes. “Bitch likes it rough, eh?” he whispered into Elijah’s lips, and Elijah couldn’t bite back his moan this time, thankful for the pounding bass of the music that absorbed his reaction.
“God, Dommie,” he whispered, and even though Dom couldn’t hear his plea, he could see the movement of Elijah’s lips, and snarled as he gripped Elijah tighter, prompting another high-pitched moan that Elijah couldn’t for the life of him control.
“Get your fucking hand on me, Elijah,” Dom demanded in his ear, and he realized with embarrassment that he hadn’t done a thing for Dom’s pleasure in this whole ordeal. Guiltily, he moved quickly to pop open the button on Dom’s jeans and turned his palm upward, rubbing as best he could at the awkward angle. It wasn’t perfect, but it did the trick, both men bringing the other quickly to release as they benefited from the drawn out nature of their earlier flirtations. Dom’s tongue thrusted roughly between Elijah’s lips as he came, scream swallowed and relished by his new lover as Dom came thickly into Elijah’s palm.
They continued to kiss for a moment more, and then broke apart, panting, Dom’s grin answering Elijah’s bewildered but sated expression. “God damn, Dommie,” he exclaimed, and Dom just smiled, zipping himself up somewhat awkwardly with sticky fingers as Elijah attempted the same.
“Come on, Elwood,” Dom replied, much more casually than earlier, as he stood and offered his clean hand. “Let’s go get cleaned up so that I can take you home and fuck your arse into oblivion.” Elijah groaned, following eagerly, and wondered if there was a Guinness World Record yet for fastest recovery time following blatantly obvious public sexual acts.
“Oh, fuckin’ ‘ell,” Orlando slurred, his accent coming out after one too many creatively named drinks. “There’s no way you’re making me try that, you fuckin’ wanker.” Billy just grinned and tapped his finger again impatiently on the laminated menu, as Dom nodded like a puppet next to him.
“That’s your drink, mate. Order up!” Orlando shook his head and buried his face in his hands as Elijah eagerly headed to the bar and pointed enthusiastically at Orlando as he ordered. The pretty boy brunette working the bar nodded and smiled a little too brightly. Orlando had already ordered a Mermaid Orgasm, Blow Job, and Angel’s Foreplay of his own accord, but this one was all Billy’n’Dom.
“Here you go, ‘Lando!” Elijah announced with a shit-eating grin. “One Anal Sex, coming right up.” Orlando grumbled and complained, but at the cheering of his mates downed the thing in several quick gulps. It wasn’t bad, actually—peach schnapps, vodka, Malibu, and ice cream, according to the very thick menu of the London cocktail bar. To be fair, going to this swanky place had been all Orlando’s idea, but once they had seen some of the available drinks, the hobbits had taken advantage of the situation with relish.
“Well then? How is it?” Billy asked with a grin.
“Delicious,” Orlando responded, smiling confidently and retrieving a stray drop from the lip of his glass with the tip of his tongue, making Billy gulp slightly and lose his self satisfied smile. “Well you know mates, just because a drink is named for sex with a bloke doesn’t mean it can’t taste good.” Elijah stared at him and replied with a slight stutter, scooting towards Dom on the bench.
“Well… you know technically…”
“You can fuck a girl up the arse,” Dom replied, finishing Elijah’s sentence with a smile. “Just outed yourself a bit there mate, don’t you think?” Orlando smiled and turned his eyes to his youngest companion, who was looking slightly worried.
“I don’t know, ‘Lijah. Would you like to find out?” He leered a bit at Elijah, and the other two hobbits just laughed as their American friend practically jumped into Dominic’s arms.
“Eee! Dommie! Save me!” Orlando laughed with relish, tipping his head back as Elijah dramatically buried his face in Dom’s neck, and he saw that Billy was laughing just as brilliantly, his eyes bright and excited, beer sloshing absently over his pint glass and onto his fingers. It was surely the alcohol, but Orlando couldn’t help the desire to lick that foam away from Billy’s glittering silvery ring. And so, in true Orlando Bloom fashion, he did.
All Orlando could hear was Elijah’s gulp as everyone suddenly fell silent, watching the tip of his tongue swipe through the frothy liquid. There was the bitter taste of the beer and a hint of metallic tang from the ring, and Orlando’s deep chocolate eyes locked on Billy’s suddenly stunned ones even as he pulled away. Orlando then grinned brightly to break the tension, and Billy laughed nervously in response, and slowly Dom joined in as well. Elijah just sat there looking shell-shocked as Orlando gently removed the drink from his hand and downed it as well. Might as well have an excuse come morning.
Several pints later, Orlando was positively spinning. The skin of his fingers suddenly held an incredible appeal, and he couldn’t help but stroke the pads of his own thumb, over and over again, staring at his hands as if mesmerized. It was only when he registered the pressure of a hand on his shoulder that he looked up, locking eyes with a pair of transparent green ones and a luminous grin.
“Hi, Orlando,” the Scottish accent greeted him, and he grinned widely in return, as not only did Billy seem a bit sloshed himself, he suddenly looked very pretty in the lights of the club, and he couldn’t help but let himself sway a little bit forward, not entirely on account of the alcohol, just to be caught by the shoulders with Billy’s strong hands.
“Hello, William,” he replied, meaning to sound sexy but not sure his goal was achieved. They met each other’s eyes, broad cheeky grin to broad cheeky grin, and Orlando suddenly stumbled off his stool, into Billy’s arms, not deterred by a “whoa there, mate” and a gentle steering off to his right. He followed Billy as best he could, dragged into a hallway, and there, on his knees was Elijah, and Dominic’s head tilted back against the brick of the rarely-used space, and oh if the ground didn’t sink a little with the weight of this revelation.
Orlando leaned back against Billy’s slight form and teetered a bit for balance as they both watched, slack-jawed, just tracing the lines with their eyes—the arch of Dom’s back, the curve of Elijah’s lips, the clench of his innocent hands. Orlando gulped and then suddenly shoved into Billy with all his weight, nearly falling into an empty storage room and slamming the door with a noise that was sure to alert someone but what the fuck did he care? William Boyd was clearly about to give him the best orgasm of his life, he decided, and nothing else mattered.
The volume of their pants was conspicuous as Billy tipped Orlando back onto the table in the center of the room, knocked inventories and other paperwork to the sides, an fumbled unsuccessfully for his zipper. They pawed with great fervor at each other’s bodies, trying to gain some leverage, but eventually gave up for the sloppy, sensuous smack of lips on moistened lips, the taste of Zambucca and Grand Marnier thick against the bitter sting of an unidentifiable lager. Orlando pressed his hips into Billy’s so hard it hurt, burned, but he just kept up the pace, on another plane, his skin feeling so sensitized and yet not his own, the tingling interspersed with a vague numbness. He ground upward with relish, gasping aloud, allowing bites on his neck and shoulders, arching up as desire finally overtook him and he came hot and messy inside his trousers, against Billy’s hipbones, against Billy’s cock which was now spilling out over his own jeans in response.
They lay panting in each other’s arms sparse minutes before they went outside the room again, zipped up, pretended to be casual. Dom and Elijah were no longer in the hallway, but they evidently weren’t tired enough to go home, yet. As Orlando stared at their bodies, sensuously grinding to the beat of the track with Elijah’s arms wrapped seductively around Dominic’s neck, he turned to Billy and caught a hot intake of breath, which he returned with a wink. He wasn’t going home alone tonight, this he was sure of, but he simply reached out and squeezed Billy’s hand in reassurance, ready to finish what they had started.
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Pairing: DM/EW and OB/BB, DM/EW
Rating: both are a pretty hard R
Disclaimer: Ha. True? I wish.
Feedback: Pretty please?
Summary: I thought it might be appropriate, after the Day of Depression, to debut two Drunken Fics. The first, Intoxicate, was written sober, and is therefore better. The second, Anal Sex, was written only when under the influence of alcohol. It took about three tries to finish, and I did correct spelling while sober, however I didn't do heavy editing since the idea of an actual drunk fic is kind of funny. Enjoy!
The music, at least, should have tipped him off to the fact that this was going to be a surreal evening.
A techno remix of “Carmina Burana” thumped in time with the artificial lighting, iridescent blues and purples flashing slow strobe shadows on the curvaceous white walls. The room was supposedly designed to resemble a cave, but really just made Elijah feel a little uneasy as he tried to slink unnoticed among the fashionably dressed London yuppie population. He wrinkled his nose and frowned when his eye found the purpose of this evening out. The friend was a regular in this place and certainly looked like it, laughing and casually leaning into his companion at the bar, as said companion fished a cherry out of his highball glass with a challenging smile and lifted it in offering.
Elijah’s eyes went wide, too wide, and he had to check his emotions and slink back against the wall a bit as he watched Orli’s long, slender fingers raise the decadent fruit by the stem and slowly lower it into Dom’s waiting mouth. Slick lips parted to accept the cherry, still glistening slightly with the remains of an earlier consumed gin and tonic. Elijah found himself unable tear his gaze away as pearly white teeth sank into the fruit, syrupy red juice trickling into the slight dip below Dom’s lower lip in a fashion that was almost obscene. Oh great, Dom’s popped Orli’s cherry, Elijah thought with a bitter smirk as his friend finally sucked the remainder of the fruit into his mouth and swallowed, head tilted back still, neck shifting slightly to allow the food passage, and oh but didn’t that just remind Elijah of another sort of action, Dominic’s greedy tongue swiping one last time around his…
Orli laughed, sharply, raising his glass to Dom in a sort of salute and taking a slow sip, his dark eyes smiling but almost predatory over the rim. Elijah looked down, looked away, couldn’t look. He was sure if he did, his eyes would be gleaming in a fashion that couldn’t be ignored, and Orli would just have to notice, and that couldn’t happen. No, he had to keep the upper hand here, and so he casually plucked a laminated menu from a countertop built into the sloping archway of a wall, trying to blend himself into the curvature as he read but succeeding only in creating a twinge of discomfort in his lower back. Blast these fucking trendophiles, he thought to himself as he tried to look cool, tried not to look out of place. He was sure that anyone in the joint could pick him out in a moment, though, knowing that the black silk shirt and the pinstriped pants were only a façade, lifted from H&M this morning in a passing attempt at chic, nothing like his everyday wardrobe. Dominic, on the other hand was completely in his element, his jeans and blazer matching perfectly with the black-haired women and their minskirts, his eyeliner and Sex Pistols t-shirt making him look slightly younger and punker than he really was, but an outfit still completely at home on his lithe body. Dom belonged here, and so did Orli, Elijah admitted to himself with a snort. Best concentrate on the menu, find something appropriate to order…
As his eyes scanned the vast selection of cocktails with names hardly seeming to denote an actual liquid substance worth consuming, he noticed one figure out of his periphery. At a high table, in a darkened corner that not even the gaudy lighting could reach, a man sat, probably in his thirties, glasses balanced just on the bridge of his nose as he focused on a paperback copy of the Silmarillion. Elijah snorted, coughed, sputtered, tried to avoid laughing aloud and attracting any attention to himself. Well at least he wasn’t the utmost out of place in the establishment, he reasoned, but then a leggy blonde approached the man, wrapped her leg provocatively between his on the stool, and maybe he would retract that judgment. Still, this could be perceived as a good sign, right? If this guy could succeed so obviously, then maybe Elijah, card-carrying dork with the Playstation record to prove it, could snag his own leggy blonde. Well, leggy was the wrong word, but at least Dom was a better makeup artist than the chick in question. Elijah allowed himself a small smile and then, casually as possible, approached the bar.
“I’ll have a Brandy Alexander,” he requested, receiving a curt nod from the bartender in question, and slid a ten-pound note forward. His accent surely stood out in the place, but he wouldn’t let his head twist even a centimetre to the right, no, it was best this way. Let him come to you, he reminded himself, shades of an internal pep talk held earlier, in the underground, in the hotel room, on the plane. Do not look eager.
An agonizing seven and a half minutes later (Friday night rush be damned), the bartender slid a martini glass to Elijah, and he nodded in thanks. The drink was none too impressive looking, cream colored and rather plain for such a classy place, but it sounded to Elijah like something sophisticated people would drink, a real London elite beverage, not too farm-boy, not something that would remind Dom that Orlando was, indeed, the sophisticated one.
Elijah lifted the drink carefully and placed his lips to the rim, tilting slightly to sip at the sweet and creamy liquid. His focus was carefully dulled, fixed on an indeterminate spot behind the bar, but as he replaced the glass he let his tongue swipe slowly over the cream on his lower lip, hoping that his target was paying attention and would get the message. When he went for a second taste, he wasn’t entirely successful at keeping his balance, and a bit of the liquid sloshed over the rim and onto his fingers, but he refused to admit defeat. With as much composure as he could manage, despite feeling a teeny bit ridiculous at such a flirtatious gesture in the direction of a man he hadn’t even acknowledged yet, he set the glass back on the bar and raised his right hand to his lips, tongue darting out just enough to suggest, but not enough to show that he was consciously suggesting. He traced the curve between thumb and forefinger, lapping up the spilled alcohol like a cat, and quickly sucked on each knuckle in turn, the tip of his tongue leading the movement before his lips attached to skin a bit more lasciviously than was absolutely necessary.
Careful not to display anything other than calm disinterest on his face, Elijah finished the drink quickly, allowing the Remy Grand Cru to pleasantly tickle the back of his throat and feeling more confident as he felt a light buzz begin to settle in. The song had switched to a Garbage tune, “Androgyny,” and Elijah smiled, mouthing the lyrics to himself as he watched his second cocktail be made.
“Boys in the parlour, they’re getting harder, I’ll free your mind and your androgyny…”
“Sir?” Elijah smiled toothily as he accepted the pineapple margarita, adorned with two straws and a lime. He considered the straws for a moment before twisting the stem a hundred and eighty degrees in his hand, leaning in instead to lick a trail of sugar from the rim before taking a sip. It was sweet, sweeter than he expected, but when he took a deeper gulp he could taste the bite of tequila. Slowly, he worked his way around the glass, tongue and lips teasing the sugar-coated rim, until a breath on his jaw nearly made him drop his glass. As it was, the drink tilted uneasily in his hand, and a bit sloshed over the rim despite his best efforts. This, however, was the last thing he was thinking of when a familiar voice rumbled in his right ear.
“Are you always such a bloody fucking tease, Elijah?” Elijah gasped in a breath and snapped his head sideways to lock on Dom’s eyes as he roughly grabbed Elijah’s wrist away from the recently set-down glass and slid his tongue seductively around and between Elijah’s fingers. Elijah could do nothing but stare as Dom’s lips closed over his index finger, sucking lightly, and continued the treatment across his hand until every bit of liquid was lapped up.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he tried to reply, but it came out as more of a stammer, and he was beginning to wonder what the hell he was doing flying halfway across the world just to ambush one of his best mates in some sort of half-witted seduction ploy, anyway.
“This what you want, ‘Lijah?” Dom’s voice was rough, gravelly, not quite what Elijah was used to, ignoring Elijah’s snarky comment. Elijah just stared for a moment before nodding, hurriedly, conceding the loss of control and conveying his intent before Dom ran off. Dom snickered before his hand darted behind Elijah’s head, lightning-fast, and grabbed the back of his neck in a vice grip as he delivered a hot, sloppy kiss to Elijah’s waiting mouth. “And here I thought it was all for Orli,” Dom whispered against his lips. Elijah’s eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically, realizing just then how his own jealousy clouded his judgment. What if Orli had misread Elijah’s intentions and been standing in Dom’s place? Elijah wasn’t sure he could’ve lived through the embarrassment.
“No… Dom… you…” His voice came out hoarse, much more desperate than he had intended, but Dom just smiled.
“Me, love? Just me?” Elijah nodded eagerly, deciding then and there that Dom’s accent was sexier than any other Brit in the place. Including the leggy ones.
Dom’s smile widened at Elijah’s apparent enthusiasm and let his lips just brush Elijah’s own as he spoke again. “What would you like to do to me, Elijah? Want to tell me that?”
“Everything,” Elijah breathed as Dom’s lips dropped teasingly to Elijah’s neck, little love bites sucked out in sharp relief against the pale of Elijah’s skin.
“Define everything,” Dom insisted, his tone a little harsh as his thumbs caressed just under the hem of Elijah’s shirt, publicity and paparazzi be damned.
“Fuck me, Dommie,” Elijah gasp-whispered, and even Dom’s eyes went wide at the insistence there. He recovered quickly, however, and grinned widely, tugging Elijah roughly off the barstool so that he stood, flush against Dom’s body, drink completely forgotten behind him.
“Come with me,” he whispered, and Elijah stumbled along after him, hand warm in Dom’s own, barely registering the smirk and wink of approval they received from Orli as they passed. Dom tugged him quickly up the stairs to the upper lounge, almost too quickly, Elijah narrowly avoiding a stumble on the steep flight.
The upstairs area was calmer, featuring low lighting but no bar, and dotted with leather couches and chaises between low glass tables. A few couples and groups sat around, chatting intimately, but Dom led Elijah past them, around a corner to the most out of the way loveseat, shadowed in a corner away from prying eyes. Elijah nearly squeaked as Dom pushed him roughly down into the soft leather cushions, and Dom just smirked at the sound, lowering himself one knee at a time to straddle Elijah’s lap, shutting those wide blue eyes with a sound kiss.
Elijah moaned helplessly into Dom’s mouth, hands scrambling for purchase as Dom’s own grabbed Elijah’s hips in a bruising grip, grinding down against his erection almost painfully. Elijah gasped when Dom’s right hand trailed up his side to end up twisted tightly in his hair, and let Dom plunder his mouth with an eager tongue, almost forgetting that they were in a public place at all when Dom’s thighs flexed against his own, grinding them relentlessly together.
“Regrettably, love, I can’t fuck you here…” Dom continued their “conversation” in a low tone, biting Elijah’s earlobe as he spoke. “…well, I could, but it might raise some eyebrows, don’t you think?” he continued, tongue teasing behind Elijah’s ear as his hands slid up under Elijah’s shirt.
“I wouldn’t protest,” Elijah replied weakly, tipping his head back in abandon as Dom turned to nibble at his throat, laughing softly.
“No, love, I’m sure you wouldn’t. But I don’t want our first time to be like this, yeah?” Elijah groaned when he forced himself to look up into Dom’s eyes, steely with lust, but he had to agree. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to make it home like this, though,” he pointed out with a little growl that would have been silly in any other circumstance. Now, though, it was incredibly fucking sexy, and Elijah had to bite Dom’s lip hard enough to bruise when Dom simultaneously claimed his mouth in a rough kiss and snapped Elijah’s fly open, his hand pressing gracelessly underneath strained fabric. Dom groaned briefly in pain, but then pulled back, smirking as he shifted his weight back to get better access beneath Elijah’s briefs and stared intently into Elijah’s eyes. “Bitch likes it rough, eh?” he whispered into Elijah’s lips, and Elijah couldn’t bite back his moan this time, thankful for the pounding bass of the music that absorbed his reaction.
“God, Dommie,” he whispered, and even though Dom couldn’t hear his plea, he could see the movement of Elijah’s lips, and snarled as he gripped Elijah tighter, prompting another high-pitched moan that Elijah couldn’t for the life of him control.
“Get your fucking hand on me, Elijah,” Dom demanded in his ear, and he realized with embarrassment that he hadn’t done a thing for Dom’s pleasure in this whole ordeal. Guiltily, he moved quickly to pop open the button on Dom’s jeans and turned his palm upward, rubbing as best he could at the awkward angle. It wasn’t perfect, but it did the trick, both men bringing the other quickly to release as they benefited from the drawn out nature of their earlier flirtations. Dom’s tongue thrusted roughly between Elijah’s lips as he came, scream swallowed and relished by his new lover as Dom came thickly into Elijah’s palm.
They continued to kiss for a moment more, and then broke apart, panting, Dom’s grin answering Elijah’s bewildered but sated expression. “God damn, Dommie,” he exclaimed, and Dom just smiled, zipping himself up somewhat awkwardly with sticky fingers as Elijah attempted the same.
“Come on, Elwood,” Dom replied, much more casually than earlier, as he stood and offered his clean hand. “Let’s go get cleaned up so that I can take you home and fuck your arse into oblivion.” Elijah groaned, following eagerly, and wondered if there was a Guinness World Record yet for fastest recovery time following blatantly obvious public sexual acts.
“Oh, fuckin’ ‘ell,” Orlando slurred, his accent coming out after one too many creatively named drinks. “There’s no way you’re making me try that, you fuckin’ wanker.” Billy just grinned and tapped his finger again impatiently on the laminated menu, as Dom nodded like a puppet next to him.
“That’s your drink, mate. Order up!” Orlando shook his head and buried his face in his hands as Elijah eagerly headed to the bar and pointed enthusiastically at Orlando as he ordered. The pretty boy brunette working the bar nodded and smiled a little too brightly. Orlando had already ordered a Mermaid Orgasm, Blow Job, and Angel’s Foreplay of his own accord, but this one was all Billy’n’Dom.
“Here you go, ‘Lando!” Elijah announced with a shit-eating grin. “One Anal Sex, coming right up.” Orlando grumbled and complained, but at the cheering of his mates downed the thing in several quick gulps. It wasn’t bad, actually—peach schnapps, vodka, Malibu, and ice cream, according to the very thick menu of the London cocktail bar. To be fair, going to this swanky place had been all Orlando’s idea, but once they had seen some of the available drinks, the hobbits had taken advantage of the situation with relish.
“Well then? How is it?” Billy asked with a grin.
“Delicious,” Orlando responded, smiling confidently and retrieving a stray drop from the lip of his glass with the tip of his tongue, making Billy gulp slightly and lose his self satisfied smile. “Well you know mates, just because a drink is named for sex with a bloke doesn’t mean it can’t taste good.” Elijah stared at him and replied with a slight stutter, scooting towards Dom on the bench.
“Well… you know technically…”
“You can fuck a girl up the arse,” Dom replied, finishing Elijah’s sentence with a smile. “Just outed yourself a bit there mate, don’t you think?” Orlando smiled and turned his eyes to his youngest companion, who was looking slightly worried.
“I don’t know, ‘Lijah. Would you like to find out?” He leered a bit at Elijah, and the other two hobbits just laughed as their American friend practically jumped into Dominic’s arms.
“Eee! Dommie! Save me!” Orlando laughed with relish, tipping his head back as Elijah dramatically buried his face in Dom’s neck, and he saw that Billy was laughing just as brilliantly, his eyes bright and excited, beer sloshing absently over his pint glass and onto his fingers. It was surely the alcohol, but Orlando couldn’t help the desire to lick that foam away from Billy’s glittering silvery ring. And so, in true Orlando Bloom fashion, he did.
All Orlando could hear was Elijah’s gulp as everyone suddenly fell silent, watching the tip of his tongue swipe through the frothy liquid. There was the bitter taste of the beer and a hint of metallic tang from the ring, and Orlando’s deep chocolate eyes locked on Billy’s suddenly stunned ones even as he pulled away. Orlando then grinned brightly to break the tension, and Billy laughed nervously in response, and slowly Dom joined in as well. Elijah just sat there looking shell-shocked as Orlando gently removed the drink from his hand and downed it as well. Might as well have an excuse come morning.
Several pints later, Orlando was positively spinning. The skin of his fingers suddenly held an incredible appeal, and he couldn’t help but stroke the pads of his own thumb, over and over again, staring at his hands as if mesmerized. It was only when he registered the pressure of a hand on his shoulder that he looked up, locking eyes with a pair of transparent green ones and a luminous grin.
“Hi, Orlando,” the Scottish accent greeted him, and he grinned widely in return, as not only did Billy seem a bit sloshed himself, he suddenly looked very pretty in the lights of the club, and he couldn’t help but let himself sway a little bit forward, not entirely on account of the alcohol, just to be caught by the shoulders with Billy’s strong hands.
“Hello, William,” he replied, meaning to sound sexy but not sure his goal was achieved. They met each other’s eyes, broad cheeky grin to broad cheeky grin, and Orlando suddenly stumbled off his stool, into Billy’s arms, not deterred by a “whoa there, mate” and a gentle steering off to his right. He followed Billy as best he could, dragged into a hallway, and there, on his knees was Elijah, and Dominic’s head tilted back against the brick of the rarely-used space, and oh if the ground didn’t sink a little with the weight of this revelation.
Orlando leaned back against Billy’s slight form and teetered a bit for balance as they both watched, slack-jawed, just tracing the lines with their eyes—the arch of Dom’s back, the curve of Elijah’s lips, the clench of his innocent hands. Orlando gulped and then suddenly shoved into Billy with all his weight, nearly falling into an empty storage room and slamming the door with a noise that was sure to alert someone but what the fuck did he care? William Boyd was clearly about to give him the best orgasm of his life, he decided, and nothing else mattered.
The volume of their pants was conspicuous as Billy tipped Orlando back onto the table in the center of the room, knocked inventories and other paperwork to the sides, an fumbled unsuccessfully for his zipper. They pawed with great fervor at each other’s bodies, trying to gain some leverage, but eventually gave up for the sloppy, sensuous smack of lips on moistened lips, the taste of Zambucca and Grand Marnier thick against the bitter sting of an unidentifiable lager. Orlando pressed his hips into Billy’s so hard it hurt, burned, but he just kept up the pace, on another plane, his skin feeling so sensitized and yet not his own, the tingling interspersed with a vague numbness. He ground upward with relish, gasping aloud, allowing bites on his neck and shoulders, arching up as desire finally overtook him and he came hot and messy inside his trousers, against Billy’s hipbones, against Billy’s cock which was now spilling out over his own jeans in response.
They lay panting in each other’s arms sparse minutes before they went outside the room again, zipped up, pretended to be casual. Dom and Elijah were no longer in the hallway, but they evidently weren’t tired enough to go home, yet. As Orlando stared at their bodies, sensuously grinding to the beat of the track with Elijah’s arms wrapped seductively around Dominic’s neck, he turned to Billy and caught a hot intake of breath, which he returned with a wink. He wasn’t going home alone tonight, this he was sure of, but he simply reached out and squeezed Billy’s hand in reassurance, ready to finish what they had started.
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This reminds me of the stories I read long ago when everything was still fresh on the slash scene and a lot of the fics were set during filming..