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fellowshippers2006-06-04 12:04 am
arabia764.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-06-04 12:04 am
Fic: Us Against The World -- Damaged story 5 Elijah/Orli N17 2/10
Title: Us Against The World – Damaged story 5
Chapter: Two
Author: Arabia
Pairing: Elijah/Orli
Rating N17
Disclaimer: Total fiction
Feedback: Is always very much appreciated.
This is NOT a WIP – it is all finished and will be posted once a week in fairly large chapters.
The first four stories can be found in my memories.
Thank you to my darling otp![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
grievous_angel for the wonderful beta and all the support, and to annwyn55 for making the beautiful icon that goes with the fic.
This story is for Pum. She knows why and it is perfect.
Us Against The World
Chapter Two
“Did you ring your mum?” Elijah asked as they walked into yet another lighting shop.
“Remind me again, what I was ringing her for?”
“Orlando! To check that she’s all right after the party, that we didn’t spoil things too much, that we haven’t upset her,” Elijah jogged after Orli.
“You know,” Orli started walking backwards, looking at Elijah. “I could call you a lot of names but I never thought stupid would be one of them. We have not upset my mum, it would be almost impossible for us to upset her, she thinks we’re wonderful. If we had sex on her new cream living room carpet, she’d only ask us to stop while she put a blanket down so we wouldn’t stain it.”
“Yeah but, there was that nasty scene at the end?”
“That was my aunt’s fault,” Orli said catching him round the neck and dragging him to the bedroom lights section. “As far as my mum’s concerned, when it comes to us, it’s always someone else’s fault. Usually one of my aunts. When are you going to get that through your thick head? She likes us, she doesn’t like them.”
“But,” Elijah pulled a face. “Did you ring her?”
Orli let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, I rang her. She’s over the moon with us. We have not upset her. Happy now?”
Elijah nodded, the best he could with Orli’s arm still around his neck. He didn’t like the idea of upsetting Yvonne, she was still a fairly formidable, if not downright scary woman.
“Let’s make a decision about this once and for all,” Orli said, changing the subject, as far as he was concerned the old one was done. “If we’re not having spotlights in the bedroom, what are we having?”
“A couple of these,” Elijah pointed to a square unit that would give a bright light.
“They’re a bit harsh, can’t we have something that gives more atmosphere?”
“You mean murky, I want to be able to read in bed, at least mark the kids’ work.”
“And I want you to have wild grubby sex with me when we’re in bed,” Orli grinned.
“And you can’t do that with a decent light?”
“I suppose it means I’ll be able to see you better,” Orli considered.
“Go on, lets have those, I can’t face any more shops. We could have a dimmer switch on them?” he conceded.
“Suppose so,” Orli gave in, as he usually did, and Elijah smiled. Just then a man in his early thirties tapped Orli on the back.
“Orli? It is you, I thought so,” the man pulled Orli into a quick hug, patting him again. Orli returned the greeting enthusiastically, holding onto the man’s elbow.
“Ben, how you doing? It’s good to see you.” Orli face lit up as they talked for a few minutes.
Elijah stuffed his hands in his pockets a fought a scowl, he wanted to go home and practice wild grubby sex.
When the man started suggesting going for a ‘quick drink,’ Elijah had had enough. He went over and stood as close as he could, his hip bumping Orli’s. “Oh Ben, this is Elijah,” Orli belatedly introduced him. “My boyfriend.” Even the use of the term didn’t pacify Elijah.
Ben barely looked at Elijah but his face registered his disappointment as he half-heartedly shook hands. “Shame,” he winked at Orli. “I’ve just split up with my last bloke, we could’ve had some fun.”
Elijah hooked his fingers into the front of Orli’s waistband.
A few minutes later and they were back outside, struggling to the car park with two huge boxes. “Who was that?” Elijah asked.
“Ben. An old friend. I’ve told you about him.”
“No you haven’t,” Elijah hitched the box to the other hip.
“Yes, I did. I must have.”
“Trust me, no you didn’t. Who is he?”
“A bloke, a sort-of mate. No big deal.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
“I did,” Orli shrugged. “Or maybe I didn’t, I can’t remember.”
“So?” Elijah stopped and waited.
“Bloody hell,” Orli put the box down. “He’s some bloke I went out with for a bit, it was nothing.”
“You went out with him?”
“Yeah.”
“Not just a mate then. When?”
“What?”
“Before or after Shane?”
“I don’t know!”
“Of course you do,” Elijah stood his ground.
“Before. After.”
“Which?”
“Both.”
“What does that mean?”
Orli huffed out a breath. “I went out with him for a bit before I met Shane and then a couple of times afterwards. It wasn’t important, we weren’t ‘dating’ or anything. We just saw each other a few times.”
“And slept together?”
“Yeah, I slept with him on a couple of occasions.”
“Was he any good? Did you rim him?”
“Oh bollocks,” Orli said, smiling in amusement. “Why are we having this conversation? Who cares?”
“I do,” Elijah folded his arms across his chest.
“Are you serious?”
Elijah stayed silent.
“No, I didn’t rim him,” Orli said patiently, as though he were explaining something to a difficult seven year old. “I’ve told you before I’ve only done that with the two of you. And do you really want to discuss it here, in the middle of Corydon shopping centre?”
“Was he any good?” Elijah asked quietly.
“You mean was he better than you? Don’t be daft” Orli chided him. “He was a reasonable, technical fuck but I didn’t feel anything, that’s why we didn’t get together.”
“Are you sure?”
“Elijah!” Orli said, exasperated. “He was a nobody, nothing like you, not even close to Shane,” Orli stood, hands on hips. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
What the hell was the matter with him? Elijah thought about it. He felt weird, there was this creeping sensation running up his back and his belly was twisting in a way that he wasn’t sure about. “Fuck,” he looked at Orli. “I’m jealous.”
“Jealous?” Orli stared right back.
“I’ve never been jealous before, not about something like this, not about someone,” Elijah said with something close to incredulity.
“What have you got to be jealous about? I worship the bloody ground you walk on!” Orli was pretty incredulous himself.
“Of course I’m jealous, I’d be nuts not to be jealous. Look at you,” he waved a hand at Orli, sizing him up. “You’re all gorgeous, with that hair and that body and the way you stand,” he was getting more animated now. “Have you any idea what the way you stand does to me? You know, the way you let your hips just roll or the way you walk? Fuck, any normal person must want you.” He looked accusingly at the crowd that was slowing down to stare.
“’Lijah,” Orli said calmly. “I fucked with a bunch of people before I met you, not that big a bunch but not minuscule either. None of them mattered till I met Shane and even he doesn’t compare with you. Would you stop being an idiot and get over it.” With that Orli picked up his box and headed for the car. Elijah had no choice but to follow, but he didn’t think he liked this feeling, not one little bit.
If this was how being jealous made you feel no wonder Orli went a bit nuts at times.
+
Elijah sat cross-legged in one corner of the bedroom, he had a huge hammer in one hand and a thick glove on the other. The plastic goggles he’d started off wearing had long since been thrown across the room, his throbbing thumb testament to his hazy view through them.
He put the bradawl over another of the nails sticking up from the floor board and hit it hard, really very hard. Now that was more like it, so much more satisfying than pulling out those he could move with a pair of pliers. Much, much more satisfying.
He looked up, still three quarters of the room to go. Brilliant, he’d show the fucking bloody nails who was jealous. He didn’t do jealousy, he just didn’t. Bloody fucking nails. Bloody fucking other people who dared to know Orli before he did. He hit the next one so hard the hammer skidded off the top and dented the floor board. Sod it.
But so what? They were going to have carpet it here, what did a few little dents matter? He hit it again, just for the sheer hell of it, a deafening thwack that rung around the room and bounced off the walls with a resounding, satisfying echo.
“Oi,” Orli shouted above the noise. “You want a cup of tea?”
Elijah inched forward on his bum, lined up the next nail and looked at Orli. Why wasn’t he in here helping? Why was he standing there, newspaper in one hand, packet of crisps in the other when Elijah was working? “You been sitting on your lazy arse again?”
“I only asked if you wanted a cuppa,” Orli headed for the door.
“Get back here and do some work,” Elijah called.
“With the way you’re wielding that hammer I’d have to be mental to come in there,” Orli grinned. “Finished sulking?”
“I have not been sulking,” Elijah said indignantly.
“Must have been my imagination,” Orli grinned again.
“Piss off.”
“And now you’re pouting.”
“No I am not,” Elijah hit the next nail so hard Orli winced. “I do not pout. You pout, I don’t.”
“My mistake,” Orli sat down, matching Elijah’s crossed legged pose but keeping a safe distance. “You should pout more often, it’s a good look on you. You have a mouth that’s made for pouting.”
“Wanker,” Elijah threw the pliers at him. “Why don’t you do something useful rather than sitting there annoying me?”
“Because I like the view from here.”
“What is it, my amazing dress sense?” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word as he waved at his gloved hand and pulled at his paint splattered, ripped jeans. Orli did have to admit they were pretty amazing jeans but probably not in a way Elijah intended. “Or my wonderful cock?”
“I can’t see your cock at the moment, although if you left the boxers off and just pulled at that rip a bit more....” Orli swung round so he was lying on his belly, looking right at the intersecting seams between Elijah’s crossed legs.
“Fuck off,” Elijah said, but didn’t close his legs. “At least you aren’t drooling at my arse for once.”
Orli puckered up his mouth, giving the idea real consideration, his chin cradled in his hands. “You know I reckon your arse has to my favourite feature of yours. No, actually make that your arsehole.”
“Oh fuck off,” Elijah said again, shaking his head, annoyed with himself. He really did need to think of something better to say than that.
“It’s true,” Orli nodded. “I understand now how parents must feel when they look at their kids. I love looking at your arsehole, I feel such pride, I could sit and stare at it all day.”
“Shut up,” and now Elijah couldn’t help the smile curling at his lips. So much better than sulking. He was damned lucky that Orli could play him so well. “Just… shut up.”
“Come on, think about it,” Orli settled himself on the hard floor, warming to his subject. “I love the way it pulses excitedly, welcoming me in, especially under my tongue. I love the way it thinks about opening before it actually does. Love the taste of it, the texture, the feel of the ridges and the edge, the way it’s alive. Shit, I love the smell of it, the colours, the way it grips my tongue or finger or cock as though it’s begging me not to pull out.”
“You’re completely bonkers, I hope you know that,” Elijah shook his head, trying to look stern, but his eyes couldn’t help but sparkle. He was so pathetic. He was so in love. Hell, he couldn’t even hammer hard anymore.
“I am not,” Orli said, his voice full of mock indignation. “Of course I love it, it’s the only way I can get inside you. What’s not to love?”
“There’s always my mouth? You get inside that often enough.”
“Your mouth is gorgeous but it’s different,” Orli thought about the idea but dismissed it. “I adore your arsehole because it’s so damned erotic, because every time I see it I get so hard I can hardly breathe. But most of all because it means I get to be inside you, to be a part of you,” he smiled, smug, at Elijah. “Let’s just accept the fact that I have a real obsession with your arsehole.”
“You’re so weird it’s scary,” Elijah shook his head again. “You’re stuck with me because no one else would put up with you.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Orli edged closer and kissed Elijah’s knee. “You keep thinking that’s the only reason I’m with you. Let’s face it ‘Lijah, if I was ever going to leave you it’d be for your arsehole, certainly not some other bloke.”
Elijah stopped, the hammer held ready. Slowly he let out a long breath. “Bloody hell, I’m sorry, I don’t understand what’s the matter with me.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“That’s a lie, I do understand what’s the matter, I’m jealous. I know what it is but,” he lined up a nail then put it down again, looking at Orli from under lowered lashes. “I didn’t know feeling jealous made you act like such an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” Orli said softly, but abruptly laughed. “All right, you are a bit of an idiot, but jealousy does that to you, believe me I know. Look what it did to me. It can eat you up and drive you mad but if you recognise it for what it is and fight it, you can beat it.”
“I don’t like the feeling,” Elijah admitted.
“Neither do I.”
“But I wanted to rip that guy’s head off, I even wanted to rip yours off for talking to him.”
Orli stayed silent. After a few moments Elijah looked up at him again, considering. “Is that how you feel?”
Orli bit at his finger and hitched a shoulder.
“Do you still feel like it?” Still Orli stayed silent, but he kept his eyes on Elijah. “Even now? Even now that you know I can’t make it without you?”
“It’s not as bad as it was, and I don’t feel it all the time but,” Orli shrugged again. “Yeah, I get jealous.”
“Fuck,” Elijah whispered.
“I can keep it under check now and I know how you feel about me but...”
“It’s a horrible feeling.”
“I know,” Orli agreed, a little too heartfelt.
“Orlando, I won’t leave you, not ever,” Elijah said simply.
“I know, and that’s the weird thing. I do know it but it doesn’t stop me feeling jealous,” he rested a hand on the side of Elijah’s leg. “You know I won’t leave either, don’t you?” Before Elijah could say anything he answered his own question. “Of course you do. You know I can’t survive without you, you just have to remember that.”
“I hate that guy,” Elijah said, scowling. “I hate everyone you’ve ever slept with, apart from Shane, and I even hate him at times.”
“And I hate everyone who’s ever been anywhere near you,” Orli agreed. “So we’re even.”
“Except you have more to hate.” Elijah kissed his finger, then rubbed it into Orli’s hair and thanked his lucky stars.
It was Orli’s turn to look up through his lashes. “Still pissed at the world and sulking?”
“Nah, I can’t be bothered.”
“Shit,” Orli painted on his very best pout. “Does that mean you’re not going to finish in here?”
+
Orli pushed open the shower door letting a cloud of steam escape into the room. He knew he’d had the water too hot and stayed in there too long but it was so nice to let it run on his aching neck and shoulders. He thought of it as his reward for hours standing on a ladder scrapping off ancient layers of paint and wallpaper. He wiped at the fogged up mirror knowing that if he treated himself like this too often, before they got a decent extractor fan, they’d suffer for it later when they had to spend hours scrubbing off mould from the walls and ceiling.
He pulled on the bathrobe that was hanging on the back of the door, called to Elijah that the shower was free and dashed across the floorboards in the hall to the luxury of the newly decorated living room. All right so at the moment it wasn’t quite Homes and Garden Magazine perfect. You couldn’t really have perfect when the bed was in one corner, but that was just an incentive to get the bedroom finished. Dumping his towel on the arm chair he dragged the duvet off the bed and spread it on the floor in front of the fire. He turned off the main light, leaving on the small one over by the bed, and lay down on the duvet.
He’d been right, a fire was a pain. Lighting the gas took a real knack, one he didn’t seem to have, it took up a lot of room and it didn’t give a consistent heat like the under-floor heating he’d wanted. That would have been so much better, expensive but better. It would probably have lasted as long as this gas fire, a good few years at least. If they were going to get a fire they should have got a real one, one that would have lasted forever, or at least the rest of their lives.
Still Elijah had been right when he said you could see all sorts of stories in the flames. Orli slipped off the damp robe, rolled onto his belly, chin on his propped up hands in his favourite position, and looked. He listened as the water was turned on in the shower then to Elijah’s soft singing, and finally as the flow stopped. After a few more minutes he turned the gas up and the flames danced higher, their coloured tips seeming to stretch and stretch upwards. He was still there, watching, when Elijah came in a few minutes later.
Elijah pulled on his old t shirt and boxers and closed the door on the draughts that came up through the gaps between the floorboards out in the hall. He stopped and looked at the supple, silky lines of Orli’s body stretched out before him. Legs crossed demurely at the ankle, long muscled calves, lightly haired thighs, the raising rounded globes of his backside with the dark inviting cleft between. The swoop down to the long, long line of his back. Elijah loved Orli’s back with its knobbed spine and angled shoulder blades, the planes of skin he could run his hands or tongue or mouth over. Up a strong, determined neck to the mop of hair that he could dig his fingers into and hold and possess. A small smile of pure pleasure pulled at his lips.
Mine.
Home.
Safe.
All words he loved and meant everything to him.
He crossed the room and dropped down next to Orli, “Hello,” he murmured quietly, wanting to maintain the dreamy atmosphere. Orli looked round briefly, smiled, then turned back to the fire.
Elijah rested his hand at the crest of Orli’s cheek then slowly stroked it over towards the small of his back. Not pressing hard, gentle fingertips that mapped the way and left a tiny ripple of sensation. He stopped in the hollow, pausing to brush at the fine hairs, twisting and catching them between his fingers before meandering on upwards. He ran the flat of his palm out to the side, swooping back and round to capture as much flesh as he could as he moved ever upward, revelling in what was his. At Orli’s neck he stopped, digging his fingers in to knead and massage. Orli dropped his head forward, a blurry sound of happiness misting out in front of him.
Elijah tipped his head to the side and looked again, the small smile of pleasure growing into one of contentment. “What can you see in the flames?” he asked.
Orli huffed a breath and thought for a moment. “The world hurtling way like the pit of hell and this little oasis of calm in the middle.” They both stopped and looked again. “What can you see?”
“Us,” Elijah said with certainty. “Us, here, happy.”
“We are a soppy pair,” Orli laughed gently at himself.
“No, not soppy, accurate,” Elijah planted a soft, chaste kiss between Orli’s shoulder blades then twisted round, settling himself with his head resting against Orli’s shoulder. “You know I reckon ours is an old fashioned love story, like you get in those black and white films on a Sunday afternoon. When they fall in love and that’s it, nothing else matters, nothing else is important.”
Orli turned over onto his side and looked at Elijah, his hand going up to rest on Elijah’s neck. “And they walk off into the sunset together, hand-in-hand?”
“When they’re really old, they do. After living happily ever after.”
“That’s a nice thought, that they’ve been together for years and years and only have eyes for each other.”
“Yeah,” Elijah said softly, almost shyly. He stared at the flames flickering softly. “An old fashioned love story.”
Orli rested his head against Elijah. “I like that idea. An old fashioned love story.”
“So do I,” Elijah draped his hand over Orli’s naked back and turned his head so his lips pressed against Orli’s shoulder. He made an indistinct sound of pleasure and was then quiet.
“What?” Orli asked.
“When I first fell in love with you I hated it. I wouldn’t even admit it to myself because it changed everything. I’d never felt like that before and I didn’t like it, I hated the loss of control that came with it.”
“You never said anything.”
“That was before we got together, when I wasn’t allowed to love you. By the time you gave me permission I’d already admitted it to myself,” Elijah shrugged. “I had no choice, the feelings were too strong.”
Orli picked up Elijah’s hand, stroking along the fingers. “Is that what it felt like? That I had to give you permission to love me?”
“That’s not what it felt like, that’s how it was. At least I had to have your permission before I could say it,” Elijah said flatly, but with no criticism in his voice. “If I’d have said it before you did, you simply wouldn’t have believed me. I had enough trouble making you accept it even after you’d said it.”
“Probably,” Orli admitted.
“I still wasn’t sure if I liked loving you,” he laughed dryly. “It hurt. You made me think and feel and lose control. All things I didn’t want to do.” Elijah turned his hand over in Orli’s, uncurled his fingers to leave it open and Orli traced along the lines on the palm with his thumb. “But I was determined I was going to control things. I had it all planned, no man, no emotion, was going to have power over me so I’d love you, but still act however I wanted when I was away from you. I’d be in charge.”
Orli looked up at him, eyes wide and honest, and waited.
“But as soon as I touched you I knew I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t in control,” he suddenly sat up and pulled at Orli’s hand, gripping it. “It was like my insides were churning up and I couldn’t think straight. I had to have you. Had to. And only you. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else touching me. All of that was before I even realised how loving you meant I could get hurt. It didn’t matter though, I couldn’t control it and I still can’t, it’s just as strong.”
“It is for me as well,” Orli smiled, bumping his head against Elijah’s arm. “It might not have been quite love at first sight but it sure is total, head-over-heels, last a life time old fashioned love.”
“An old fashioned love,” Elijah said it again, and the words made him smile.
+
Elijah sat at the breakfast table and yawned. One more day at work and then they could spend the whole weekend lazing around in bed sleeping and making sweet, messy love.
Or, more likely, they could work on the bedroom and fight the crowds in the DIY shops.
Lovely.
He poured out a second helping of Cocopops, mixing them round so that the milk turned into chocolate milkshake. “You know, seeing as we bought that bad arsed cooker we should use it sometimes to make something a bit more exciting for breakfast.”
“I made you a bacon sandwich last Saturday, what more do you want,” Orli said as he scooted round the kitchen collecting up his things for work and stuffing a last bit of toast in his mouth.
“A full English breakfast? Served to me in bed? With you wearing nothing but a frilly apron?”
“In your dreams mate,” Orli kissed the side of Elijah’s face, his aim off so he missed his intended target of Elijah’s cheek and hit the top of his ear. “But if you’re offering to make it I wouldn’t say no. Although you can leave off the apron, I don’t do blokes in drag.”
“You wish,” Elijah dismissed the idea. “Pub tonight?”
“Yeah, a nice quiet relaxing drink or seven. I’ll see you later.”
Elijah waved a hand at Orli’s retreating back and finished off the last of his cereal, mentally ticking off the things he needed to take into school. Planning folder, staff meeting notes, assessment sheets and dry pasta. He couldn’t quite remember what he wanted the last thing for but he was sure it was something to do with threading. Or painting. Or maybe both.
“Would you look at this,” Orli came back in, the post in his hand. He dumped a big brown envelope and a leaflet advertising a free credit card in front of Elijah and flapped something else under his nose. “My bloody bank has sent me another snotty letter. I am not over drawn, I have never been over drawn, why can’t they get it into their thick heads?”
Elijah ran his thumb under the flap of the big envelope. “Did you ring them yesterday?”
“No.”
Elijah made an I-told-you-so noise and Orli tried to justify himself. “But that’s not the point. I did ring them, last week. All right so I’ve only rung once and I might not necessarily have got through to the right person and I did kind of get fed up hanging on but they shouldn’t keep sending them.”
“Ring ‘em,” Elijah grinned. “It’s not hard, just press the little buttons on the phone.”
Orli stuck his tongue out. “Bastard,” he grinned back.
“I love you, you idiot.”
“Not half as much as I love you,” Orli replied as he headed out the door again, determined not to give Elijah the chance to argue.
Elijah stuck his tongue out at the empty door way as he pulled the contents from the envelope and looked down. For a moment he froze, the colour draining from his face. Then, almost before he had a chance to think about his actions, he called out to Orli.
“What?” Orli called back from the hall.
“Come here.”
“Oh no, you’re not catching me like that. I love you more and that’s final. I win. For today at least.”
“Orlando,” Elijah called again, and something in his voice made Orli stop laughing and go back.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, standing by the table, facing Elijah.
Elijah didn’t say anything, instead he lifted the large rectangles of white paper away from his chest and handed them to Orli. They weren’t papers, as they turned over Orli could see they were photographs, very clear, colour photographs. He took them from Elijah’s hand and looked at each one before pulling out a chair and sitting down. He looked at them again, taking his time and lots of deep breaths and then his gaze went to Elijah.
“It doesn’t matter,” Orli said, shaking his head slowly. “What ever this is, whoever sent them, it doesn’t matter. I won’t let it,” he dropped the pictures on the table, pushing them away. “That was before and now is all that’s important. Us, now.”
“Orlando,” the name escaped on the breath that Elijah didn’t know he’d been holding, as he reached out for Orli’s hand. Orli was grabbing for him before he had crossed even half the table, tangling their fingers together, squeezing tight. For a long, long moment they sat like that, in silence, holding on for dear life, staring intently at each other. Elijah’s eyes first afraid, then questioning, finally relaxing with acceptance. “Sure?” he asked eventually, although he already knew the answer.
“Of course. It doesn’t matter,” Orli said with finality.
Elijah sucked in a huge breath, letting it out slowly before squaring his shoulders. “So what do you think they mean?” he asked, slipping round so that he sat in the chair next to Orli and could press their thighs together.
Orli shook his head. “I don’t know, can you remember it?” He leaned into Elijah till they were shoulder to shoulder, their arms touching where they rested on the table.
It was Elijah’s turn to shake his head. “No, not really,” he picked up the photographs again, flipping through them. “How old do you reckon I was, fifteen, sixteen?”
“You look younger than that.” Orli didn’t really want to look at them again but he didn’t look away.
Elijah stopped at one picture, looking at it more closely. “Maybe, but I’ve always looked younger than I am. That’s what a lot of people found attractive. I guess I could have been about thirteen, possibly even a bit younger, but I doubt it.”
“But you told me you did … that,” Orli nodded towards the picture. “For the first time when you were fifteen. I remember you said it was on your mum’s bed. Was that a lie?” His words weren’t accusatory, rather soft and supportive.
“Not a lie exactly,” Elijah said, remembering back to the conversation before he and Orli had become a couple. “More a slight softening of the truth so that you wouldn’t think so badly of me.”
Orli sighed and slung his arm around Elijah’s shoulder, pulling him in close. “So how old were you when you first got fucked?”
“Dunno,” Elijah shrugged and looked up at Orli. “I think about twelve going on thirteen, I can’t really remember. Does it matter?”
“I guess not,” Orli kissed his forehead.
“I haven’t lied to you about anything else, well, not that I can remember. I wouldn’t have thought of this unless you’d said it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Orli said with certainty. “Like I said, that was then and now is what’s important.”
Suddenly Elijah’s mischievous smile was back with a vengeance. “Bloody hell, it must have cost you a lot to say that. I know what you’re like Orlando Bloom, you’re still as jealous as hell and now I know what that feels like.”
“So what if I am?” Orli grinned back. “I’ve got something that’s worth being jealous about.”
“I have as well.”
“We just have to remember that.”
“Yeah,” Elijah agreed. “But I’d still like to know where these came from.”
Orli’s gaze went to the pictures still in Elijah’s hand: briefly, he could only take briefly. There were several photographs: all of a very young looking Elijah, all of him naked, all of him naked with another much older man. All of him having sex with the man. In one he was on his knees sucking the man off, the camera catching his lips straining around the man’s flesh. In another he was on his back as the man sat astride his chest, pushing his flesh into Elijah’s mouth as his neck bent back over the edge of the bed. In many others Elijah was being ruthlessly fucked by the man in an assortment of ridiculous positions. The images obscene as the huge engorged cock disappeared into Elijah’s tightly stretched body.
In those positions in which the man could see him, Elijah’s face was contorted in a wild mask of expressions. In the ones he couldn’t be seen Elijah’s face merely registered blank. Nothing was left to the imagination, nothing hidden back, all set out in not so glorious techni-colour.
Orli looked away and bit his lip.
“I really can’t remember,” Elijah said, shaking his head. “Shows how unremarkable it must have been.” That remark hurt Orli almost as much as the photos themselves.
No, not quite as much.
Elijah tried to stuff them back in the envelope. “Forget about them, let’s go to work. Do you want a lift? Shit,” he hissed. The bloody photos wouldn’t go back in and he didn’t want to leave them on show, what if Yvonne just turned up? He stuck his hand inside trying to ease the way and his fingers caught on a folded sheet of paper. He pulled it out, opened it and held it out so that Orli could see it as well.
I’ll ring you.
That was all it said, a simple uncomplicated message. I’ll ring you. But who? When? And more importantly, why?
Elijah’s eyes went from the paper to Orli’s face. It was calm. He raised an eyebrow in question. It was Orli’s turn to shrug. “Who cares? We can tell the bastard to fuck off if he calls.”
“You think he won’t?” Elijah poked the whole lot back into the envelope and turned to look round the kitchen. The junk drawer, that was the best place to dump it. Everyone had a junk drawer and everyone knew only its owner could find anything in it.
“Maybe,” Orli collected up his things again. “Maybe whoever it was just wanted to stir up trouble, like people who send poison pen letters.”
“But why go to all that effort?” Elijah got his bag and searched around for his car keys.
Orli handed them to him. “Because some people have got too much time on their hands or they just can’t abide to see anyone else happy.”
“Happy like we are,” Elijah’s voice rose on the last word but it wasn’t a question. He kissed Orli on the tip of his nose and grinned. “You’re amazing.”
“And good looking,” Orli closed the kitchen door to keep out the decorating dust as they headed down the hall. “You forgot to mention how incredibly good looking I am.”
“Arrogant fucker,” Elijah laughed as he opened the front door, but then a wave of near horror crossed his face as he dashed back to the kitchen.
“’Lijah?” Orli called after him in alarm.
“Won’t be a minute, I nearly forgot the bleeding pasta again.”
+
Chapter: Two
Author: Arabia
Pairing: Elijah/Orli
Rating N17
Disclaimer: Total fiction
Feedback: Is always very much appreciated.
This is NOT a WIP – it is all finished and will be posted once a week in fairly large chapters.
The first four stories can be found in my memories.
Thank you to my darling otp
grievous_angel for the wonderful beta and all the support, and to annwyn55 for making the beautiful icon that goes with the fic.This story is for Pum. She knows why and it is perfect.
Us Against The World
Chapter Two
“Did you ring your mum?” Elijah asked as they walked into yet another lighting shop.
“Remind me again, what I was ringing her for?”
“Orlando! To check that she’s all right after the party, that we didn’t spoil things too much, that we haven’t upset her,” Elijah jogged after Orli.
“You know,” Orli started walking backwards, looking at Elijah. “I could call you a lot of names but I never thought stupid would be one of them. We have not upset my mum, it would be almost impossible for us to upset her, she thinks we’re wonderful. If we had sex on her new cream living room carpet, she’d only ask us to stop while she put a blanket down so we wouldn’t stain it.”
“Yeah but, there was that nasty scene at the end?”
“That was my aunt’s fault,” Orli said catching him round the neck and dragging him to the bedroom lights section. “As far as my mum’s concerned, when it comes to us, it’s always someone else’s fault. Usually one of my aunts. When are you going to get that through your thick head? She likes us, she doesn’t like them.”
“But,” Elijah pulled a face. “Did you ring her?”
Orli let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, I rang her. She’s over the moon with us. We have not upset her. Happy now?”
Elijah nodded, the best he could with Orli’s arm still around his neck. He didn’t like the idea of upsetting Yvonne, she was still a fairly formidable, if not downright scary woman.
“Let’s make a decision about this once and for all,” Orli said, changing the subject, as far as he was concerned the old one was done. “If we’re not having spotlights in the bedroom, what are we having?”
“A couple of these,” Elijah pointed to a square unit that would give a bright light.
“They’re a bit harsh, can’t we have something that gives more atmosphere?”
“You mean murky, I want to be able to read in bed, at least mark the kids’ work.”
“And I want you to have wild grubby sex with me when we’re in bed,” Orli grinned.
“And you can’t do that with a decent light?”
“I suppose it means I’ll be able to see you better,” Orli considered.
“Go on, lets have those, I can’t face any more shops. We could have a dimmer switch on them?” he conceded.
“Suppose so,” Orli gave in, as he usually did, and Elijah smiled. Just then a man in his early thirties tapped Orli on the back.
“Orli? It is you, I thought so,” the man pulled Orli into a quick hug, patting him again. Orli returned the greeting enthusiastically, holding onto the man’s elbow.
“Ben, how you doing? It’s good to see you.” Orli face lit up as they talked for a few minutes.
Elijah stuffed his hands in his pockets a fought a scowl, he wanted to go home and practice wild grubby sex.
When the man started suggesting going for a ‘quick drink,’ Elijah had had enough. He went over and stood as close as he could, his hip bumping Orli’s. “Oh Ben, this is Elijah,” Orli belatedly introduced him. “My boyfriend.” Even the use of the term didn’t pacify Elijah.
Ben barely looked at Elijah but his face registered his disappointment as he half-heartedly shook hands. “Shame,” he winked at Orli. “I’ve just split up with my last bloke, we could’ve had some fun.”
Elijah hooked his fingers into the front of Orli’s waistband.
A few minutes later and they were back outside, struggling to the car park with two huge boxes. “Who was that?” Elijah asked.
“Ben. An old friend. I’ve told you about him.”
“No you haven’t,” Elijah hitched the box to the other hip.
“Yes, I did. I must have.”
“Trust me, no you didn’t. Who is he?”
“A bloke, a sort-of mate. No big deal.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
“I did,” Orli shrugged. “Or maybe I didn’t, I can’t remember.”
“So?” Elijah stopped and waited.
“Bloody hell,” Orli put the box down. “He’s some bloke I went out with for a bit, it was nothing.”
“You went out with him?”
“Yeah.”
“Not just a mate then. When?”
“What?”
“Before or after Shane?”
“I don’t know!”
“Of course you do,” Elijah stood his ground.
“Before. After.”
“Which?”
“Both.”
“What does that mean?”
Orli huffed out a breath. “I went out with him for a bit before I met Shane and then a couple of times afterwards. It wasn’t important, we weren’t ‘dating’ or anything. We just saw each other a few times.”
“And slept together?”
“Yeah, I slept with him on a couple of occasions.”
“Was he any good? Did you rim him?”
“Oh bollocks,” Orli said, smiling in amusement. “Why are we having this conversation? Who cares?”
“I do,” Elijah folded his arms across his chest.
“Are you serious?”
Elijah stayed silent.
“No, I didn’t rim him,” Orli said patiently, as though he were explaining something to a difficult seven year old. “I’ve told you before I’ve only done that with the two of you. And do you really want to discuss it here, in the middle of Corydon shopping centre?”
“Was he any good?” Elijah asked quietly.
“You mean was he better than you? Don’t be daft” Orli chided him. “He was a reasonable, technical fuck but I didn’t feel anything, that’s why we didn’t get together.”
“Are you sure?”
“Elijah!” Orli said, exasperated. “He was a nobody, nothing like you, not even close to Shane,” Orli stood, hands on hips. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
What the hell was the matter with him? Elijah thought about it. He felt weird, there was this creeping sensation running up his back and his belly was twisting in a way that he wasn’t sure about. “Fuck,” he looked at Orli. “I’m jealous.”
“Jealous?” Orli stared right back.
“I’ve never been jealous before, not about something like this, not about someone,” Elijah said with something close to incredulity.
“What have you got to be jealous about? I worship the bloody ground you walk on!” Orli was pretty incredulous himself.
“Of course I’m jealous, I’d be nuts not to be jealous. Look at you,” he waved a hand at Orli, sizing him up. “You’re all gorgeous, with that hair and that body and the way you stand,” he was getting more animated now. “Have you any idea what the way you stand does to me? You know, the way you let your hips just roll or the way you walk? Fuck, any normal person must want you.” He looked accusingly at the crowd that was slowing down to stare.
“’Lijah,” Orli said calmly. “I fucked with a bunch of people before I met you, not that big a bunch but not minuscule either. None of them mattered till I met Shane and even he doesn’t compare with you. Would you stop being an idiot and get over it.” With that Orli picked up his box and headed for the car. Elijah had no choice but to follow, but he didn’t think he liked this feeling, not one little bit.
If this was how being jealous made you feel no wonder Orli went a bit nuts at times.
+
Elijah sat cross-legged in one corner of the bedroom, he had a huge hammer in one hand and a thick glove on the other. The plastic goggles he’d started off wearing had long since been thrown across the room, his throbbing thumb testament to his hazy view through them.
He put the bradawl over another of the nails sticking up from the floor board and hit it hard, really very hard. Now that was more like it, so much more satisfying than pulling out those he could move with a pair of pliers. Much, much more satisfying.
He looked up, still three quarters of the room to go. Brilliant, he’d show the fucking bloody nails who was jealous. He didn’t do jealousy, he just didn’t. Bloody fucking nails. Bloody fucking other people who dared to know Orli before he did. He hit the next one so hard the hammer skidded off the top and dented the floor board. Sod it.
But so what? They were going to have carpet it here, what did a few little dents matter? He hit it again, just for the sheer hell of it, a deafening thwack that rung around the room and bounced off the walls with a resounding, satisfying echo.
“Oi,” Orli shouted above the noise. “You want a cup of tea?”
Elijah inched forward on his bum, lined up the next nail and looked at Orli. Why wasn’t he in here helping? Why was he standing there, newspaper in one hand, packet of crisps in the other when Elijah was working? “You been sitting on your lazy arse again?”
“I only asked if you wanted a cuppa,” Orli headed for the door.
“Get back here and do some work,” Elijah called.
“With the way you’re wielding that hammer I’d have to be mental to come in there,” Orli grinned. “Finished sulking?”
“I have not been sulking,” Elijah said indignantly.
“Must have been my imagination,” Orli grinned again.
“Piss off.”
“And now you’re pouting.”
“No I am not,” Elijah hit the next nail so hard Orli winced. “I do not pout. You pout, I don’t.”
“My mistake,” Orli sat down, matching Elijah’s crossed legged pose but keeping a safe distance. “You should pout more often, it’s a good look on you. You have a mouth that’s made for pouting.”
“Wanker,” Elijah threw the pliers at him. “Why don’t you do something useful rather than sitting there annoying me?”
“Because I like the view from here.”
“What is it, my amazing dress sense?” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word as he waved at his gloved hand and pulled at his paint splattered, ripped jeans. Orli did have to admit they were pretty amazing jeans but probably not in a way Elijah intended. “Or my wonderful cock?”
“I can’t see your cock at the moment, although if you left the boxers off and just pulled at that rip a bit more....” Orli swung round so he was lying on his belly, looking right at the intersecting seams between Elijah’s crossed legs.
“Fuck off,” Elijah said, but didn’t close his legs. “At least you aren’t drooling at my arse for once.”
Orli puckered up his mouth, giving the idea real consideration, his chin cradled in his hands. “You know I reckon your arse has to my favourite feature of yours. No, actually make that your arsehole.”
“Oh fuck off,” Elijah said again, shaking his head, annoyed with himself. He really did need to think of something better to say than that.
“It’s true,” Orli nodded. “I understand now how parents must feel when they look at their kids. I love looking at your arsehole, I feel such pride, I could sit and stare at it all day.”
“Shut up,” and now Elijah couldn’t help the smile curling at his lips. So much better than sulking. He was damned lucky that Orli could play him so well. “Just… shut up.”
“Come on, think about it,” Orli settled himself on the hard floor, warming to his subject. “I love the way it pulses excitedly, welcoming me in, especially under my tongue. I love the way it thinks about opening before it actually does. Love the taste of it, the texture, the feel of the ridges and the edge, the way it’s alive. Shit, I love the smell of it, the colours, the way it grips my tongue or finger or cock as though it’s begging me not to pull out.”
“You’re completely bonkers, I hope you know that,” Elijah shook his head, trying to look stern, but his eyes couldn’t help but sparkle. He was so pathetic. He was so in love. Hell, he couldn’t even hammer hard anymore.
“I am not,” Orli said, his voice full of mock indignation. “Of course I love it, it’s the only way I can get inside you. What’s not to love?”
“There’s always my mouth? You get inside that often enough.”
“Your mouth is gorgeous but it’s different,” Orli thought about the idea but dismissed it. “I adore your arsehole because it’s so damned erotic, because every time I see it I get so hard I can hardly breathe. But most of all because it means I get to be inside you, to be a part of you,” he smiled, smug, at Elijah. “Let’s just accept the fact that I have a real obsession with your arsehole.”
“You’re so weird it’s scary,” Elijah shook his head again. “You’re stuck with me because no one else would put up with you.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Orli edged closer and kissed Elijah’s knee. “You keep thinking that’s the only reason I’m with you. Let’s face it ‘Lijah, if I was ever going to leave you it’d be for your arsehole, certainly not some other bloke.”
Elijah stopped, the hammer held ready. Slowly he let out a long breath. “Bloody hell, I’m sorry, I don’t understand what’s the matter with me.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“That’s a lie, I do understand what’s the matter, I’m jealous. I know what it is but,” he lined up a nail then put it down again, looking at Orli from under lowered lashes. “I didn’t know feeling jealous made you act like such an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” Orli said softly, but abruptly laughed. “All right, you are a bit of an idiot, but jealousy does that to you, believe me I know. Look what it did to me. It can eat you up and drive you mad but if you recognise it for what it is and fight it, you can beat it.”
“I don’t like the feeling,” Elijah admitted.
“Neither do I.”
“But I wanted to rip that guy’s head off, I even wanted to rip yours off for talking to him.”
Orli stayed silent. After a few moments Elijah looked up at him again, considering. “Is that how you feel?”
Orli bit at his finger and hitched a shoulder.
“Do you still feel like it?” Still Orli stayed silent, but he kept his eyes on Elijah. “Even now? Even now that you know I can’t make it without you?”
“It’s not as bad as it was, and I don’t feel it all the time but,” Orli shrugged again. “Yeah, I get jealous.”
“Fuck,” Elijah whispered.
“I can keep it under check now and I know how you feel about me but...”
“It’s a horrible feeling.”
“I know,” Orli agreed, a little too heartfelt.
“Orlando, I won’t leave you, not ever,” Elijah said simply.
“I know, and that’s the weird thing. I do know it but it doesn’t stop me feeling jealous,” he rested a hand on the side of Elijah’s leg. “You know I won’t leave either, don’t you?” Before Elijah could say anything he answered his own question. “Of course you do. You know I can’t survive without you, you just have to remember that.”
“I hate that guy,” Elijah said, scowling. “I hate everyone you’ve ever slept with, apart from Shane, and I even hate him at times.”
“And I hate everyone who’s ever been anywhere near you,” Orli agreed. “So we’re even.”
“Except you have more to hate.” Elijah kissed his finger, then rubbed it into Orli’s hair and thanked his lucky stars.
It was Orli’s turn to look up through his lashes. “Still pissed at the world and sulking?”
“Nah, I can’t be bothered.”
“Shit,” Orli painted on his very best pout. “Does that mean you’re not going to finish in here?”
+
Orli pushed open the shower door letting a cloud of steam escape into the room. He knew he’d had the water too hot and stayed in there too long but it was so nice to let it run on his aching neck and shoulders. He thought of it as his reward for hours standing on a ladder scrapping off ancient layers of paint and wallpaper. He wiped at the fogged up mirror knowing that if he treated himself like this too often, before they got a decent extractor fan, they’d suffer for it later when they had to spend hours scrubbing off mould from the walls and ceiling.
He pulled on the bathrobe that was hanging on the back of the door, called to Elijah that the shower was free and dashed across the floorboards in the hall to the luxury of the newly decorated living room. All right so at the moment it wasn’t quite Homes and Garden Magazine perfect. You couldn’t really have perfect when the bed was in one corner, but that was just an incentive to get the bedroom finished. Dumping his towel on the arm chair he dragged the duvet off the bed and spread it on the floor in front of the fire. He turned off the main light, leaving on the small one over by the bed, and lay down on the duvet.
He’d been right, a fire was a pain. Lighting the gas took a real knack, one he didn’t seem to have, it took up a lot of room and it didn’t give a consistent heat like the under-floor heating he’d wanted. That would have been so much better, expensive but better. It would probably have lasted as long as this gas fire, a good few years at least. If they were going to get a fire they should have got a real one, one that would have lasted forever, or at least the rest of their lives.
Still Elijah had been right when he said you could see all sorts of stories in the flames. Orli slipped off the damp robe, rolled onto his belly, chin on his propped up hands in his favourite position, and looked. He listened as the water was turned on in the shower then to Elijah’s soft singing, and finally as the flow stopped. After a few more minutes he turned the gas up and the flames danced higher, their coloured tips seeming to stretch and stretch upwards. He was still there, watching, when Elijah came in a few minutes later.
Elijah pulled on his old t shirt and boxers and closed the door on the draughts that came up through the gaps between the floorboards out in the hall. He stopped and looked at the supple, silky lines of Orli’s body stretched out before him. Legs crossed demurely at the ankle, long muscled calves, lightly haired thighs, the raising rounded globes of his backside with the dark inviting cleft between. The swoop down to the long, long line of his back. Elijah loved Orli’s back with its knobbed spine and angled shoulder blades, the planes of skin he could run his hands or tongue or mouth over. Up a strong, determined neck to the mop of hair that he could dig his fingers into and hold and possess. A small smile of pure pleasure pulled at his lips.
Mine.
Home.
Safe.
All words he loved and meant everything to him.
He crossed the room and dropped down next to Orli, “Hello,” he murmured quietly, wanting to maintain the dreamy atmosphere. Orli looked round briefly, smiled, then turned back to the fire.
Elijah rested his hand at the crest of Orli’s cheek then slowly stroked it over towards the small of his back. Not pressing hard, gentle fingertips that mapped the way and left a tiny ripple of sensation. He stopped in the hollow, pausing to brush at the fine hairs, twisting and catching them between his fingers before meandering on upwards. He ran the flat of his palm out to the side, swooping back and round to capture as much flesh as he could as he moved ever upward, revelling in what was his. At Orli’s neck he stopped, digging his fingers in to knead and massage. Orli dropped his head forward, a blurry sound of happiness misting out in front of him.
Elijah tipped his head to the side and looked again, the small smile of pleasure growing into one of contentment. “What can you see in the flames?” he asked.
Orli huffed a breath and thought for a moment. “The world hurtling way like the pit of hell and this little oasis of calm in the middle.” They both stopped and looked again. “What can you see?”
“Us,” Elijah said with certainty. “Us, here, happy.”
“We are a soppy pair,” Orli laughed gently at himself.
“No, not soppy, accurate,” Elijah planted a soft, chaste kiss between Orli’s shoulder blades then twisted round, settling himself with his head resting against Orli’s shoulder. “You know I reckon ours is an old fashioned love story, like you get in those black and white films on a Sunday afternoon. When they fall in love and that’s it, nothing else matters, nothing else is important.”
Orli turned over onto his side and looked at Elijah, his hand going up to rest on Elijah’s neck. “And they walk off into the sunset together, hand-in-hand?”
“When they’re really old, they do. After living happily ever after.”
“That’s a nice thought, that they’ve been together for years and years and only have eyes for each other.”
“Yeah,” Elijah said softly, almost shyly. He stared at the flames flickering softly. “An old fashioned love story.”
Orli rested his head against Elijah. “I like that idea. An old fashioned love story.”
“So do I,” Elijah draped his hand over Orli’s naked back and turned his head so his lips pressed against Orli’s shoulder. He made an indistinct sound of pleasure and was then quiet.
“What?” Orli asked.
“When I first fell in love with you I hated it. I wouldn’t even admit it to myself because it changed everything. I’d never felt like that before and I didn’t like it, I hated the loss of control that came with it.”
“You never said anything.”
“That was before we got together, when I wasn’t allowed to love you. By the time you gave me permission I’d already admitted it to myself,” Elijah shrugged. “I had no choice, the feelings were too strong.”
Orli picked up Elijah’s hand, stroking along the fingers. “Is that what it felt like? That I had to give you permission to love me?”
“That’s not what it felt like, that’s how it was. At least I had to have your permission before I could say it,” Elijah said flatly, but with no criticism in his voice. “If I’d have said it before you did, you simply wouldn’t have believed me. I had enough trouble making you accept it even after you’d said it.”
“Probably,” Orli admitted.
“I still wasn’t sure if I liked loving you,” he laughed dryly. “It hurt. You made me think and feel and lose control. All things I didn’t want to do.” Elijah turned his hand over in Orli’s, uncurled his fingers to leave it open and Orli traced along the lines on the palm with his thumb. “But I was determined I was going to control things. I had it all planned, no man, no emotion, was going to have power over me so I’d love you, but still act however I wanted when I was away from you. I’d be in charge.”
Orli looked up at him, eyes wide and honest, and waited.
“But as soon as I touched you I knew I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t in control,” he suddenly sat up and pulled at Orli’s hand, gripping it. “It was like my insides were churning up and I couldn’t think straight. I had to have you. Had to. And only you. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else touching me. All of that was before I even realised how loving you meant I could get hurt. It didn’t matter though, I couldn’t control it and I still can’t, it’s just as strong.”
“It is for me as well,” Orli smiled, bumping his head against Elijah’s arm. “It might not have been quite love at first sight but it sure is total, head-over-heels, last a life time old fashioned love.”
“An old fashioned love,” Elijah said it again, and the words made him smile.
+
Elijah sat at the breakfast table and yawned. One more day at work and then they could spend the whole weekend lazing around in bed sleeping and making sweet, messy love.
Or, more likely, they could work on the bedroom and fight the crowds in the DIY shops.
Lovely.
He poured out a second helping of Cocopops, mixing them round so that the milk turned into chocolate milkshake. “You know, seeing as we bought that bad arsed cooker we should use it sometimes to make something a bit more exciting for breakfast.”
“I made you a bacon sandwich last Saturday, what more do you want,” Orli said as he scooted round the kitchen collecting up his things for work and stuffing a last bit of toast in his mouth.
“A full English breakfast? Served to me in bed? With you wearing nothing but a frilly apron?”
“In your dreams mate,” Orli kissed the side of Elijah’s face, his aim off so he missed his intended target of Elijah’s cheek and hit the top of his ear. “But if you’re offering to make it I wouldn’t say no. Although you can leave off the apron, I don’t do blokes in drag.”
“You wish,” Elijah dismissed the idea. “Pub tonight?”
“Yeah, a nice quiet relaxing drink or seven. I’ll see you later.”
Elijah waved a hand at Orli’s retreating back and finished off the last of his cereal, mentally ticking off the things he needed to take into school. Planning folder, staff meeting notes, assessment sheets and dry pasta. He couldn’t quite remember what he wanted the last thing for but he was sure it was something to do with threading. Or painting. Or maybe both.
“Would you look at this,” Orli came back in, the post in his hand. He dumped a big brown envelope and a leaflet advertising a free credit card in front of Elijah and flapped something else under his nose. “My bloody bank has sent me another snotty letter. I am not over drawn, I have never been over drawn, why can’t they get it into their thick heads?”
Elijah ran his thumb under the flap of the big envelope. “Did you ring them yesterday?”
“No.”
Elijah made an I-told-you-so noise and Orli tried to justify himself. “But that’s not the point. I did ring them, last week. All right so I’ve only rung once and I might not necessarily have got through to the right person and I did kind of get fed up hanging on but they shouldn’t keep sending them.”
“Ring ‘em,” Elijah grinned. “It’s not hard, just press the little buttons on the phone.”
Orli stuck his tongue out. “Bastard,” he grinned back.
“I love you, you idiot.”
“Not half as much as I love you,” Orli replied as he headed out the door again, determined not to give Elijah the chance to argue.
Elijah stuck his tongue out at the empty door way as he pulled the contents from the envelope and looked down. For a moment he froze, the colour draining from his face. Then, almost before he had a chance to think about his actions, he called out to Orli.
“What?” Orli called back from the hall.
“Come here.”
“Oh no, you’re not catching me like that. I love you more and that’s final. I win. For today at least.”
“Orlando,” Elijah called again, and something in his voice made Orli stop laughing and go back.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, standing by the table, facing Elijah.
Elijah didn’t say anything, instead he lifted the large rectangles of white paper away from his chest and handed them to Orli. They weren’t papers, as they turned over Orli could see they were photographs, very clear, colour photographs. He took them from Elijah’s hand and looked at each one before pulling out a chair and sitting down. He looked at them again, taking his time and lots of deep breaths and then his gaze went to Elijah.
“It doesn’t matter,” Orli said, shaking his head slowly. “What ever this is, whoever sent them, it doesn’t matter. I won’t let it,” he dropped the pictures on the table, pushing them away. “That was before and now is all that’s important. Us, now.”
“Orlando,” the name escaped on the breath that Elijah didn’t know he’d been holding, as he reached out for Orli’s hand. Orli was grabbing for him before he had crossed even half the table, tangling their fingers together, squeezing tight. For a long, long moment they sat like that, in silence, holding on for dear life, staring intently at each other. Elijah’s eyes first afraid, then questioning, finally relaxing with acceptance. “Sure?” he asked eventually, although he already knew the answer.
“Of course. It doesn’t matter,” Orli said with finality.
Elijah sucked in a huge breath, letting it out slowly before squaring his shoulders. “So what do you think they mean?” he asked, slipping round so that he sat in the chair next to Orli and could press their thighs together.
Orli shook his head. “I don’t know, can you remember it?” He leaned into Elijah till they were shoulder to shoulder, their arms touching where they rested on the table.
It was Elijah’s turn to shake his head. “No, not really,” he picked up the photographs again, flipping through them. “How old do you reckon I was, fifteen, sixteen?”
“You look younger than that.” Orli didn’t really want to look at them again but he didn’t look away.
Elijah stopped at one picture, looking at it more closely. “Maybe, but I’ve always looked younger than I am. That’s what a lot of people found attractive. I guess I could have been about thirteen, possibly even a bit younger, but I doubt it.”
“But you told me you did … that,” Orli nodded towards the picture. “For the first time when you were fifteen. I remember you said it was on your mum’s bed. Was that a lie?” His words weren’t accusatory, rather soft and supportive.
“Not a lie exactly,” Elijah said, remembering back to the conversation before he and Orli had become a couple. “More a slight softening of the truth so that you wouldn’t think so badly of me.”
Orli sighed and slung his arm around Elijah’s shoulder, pulling him in close. “So how old were you when you first got fucked?”
“Dunno,” Elijah shrugged and looked up at Orli. “I think about twelve going on thirteen, I can’t really remember. Does it matter?”
“I guess not,” Orli kissed his forehead.
“I haven’t lied to you about anything else, well, not that I can remember. I wouldn’t have thought of this unless you’d said it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Orli said with certainty. “Like I said, that was then and now is what’s important.”
Suddenly Elijah’s mischievous smile was back with a vengeance. “Bloody hell, it must have cost you a lot to say that. I know what you’re like Orlando Bloom, you’re still as jealous as hell and now I know what that feels like.”
“So what if I am?” Orli grinned back. “I’ve got something that’s worth being jealous about.”
“I have as well.”
“We just have to remember that.”
“Yeah,” Elijah agreed. “But I’d still like to know where these came from.”
Orli’s gaze went to the pictures still in Elijah’s hand: briefly, he could only take briefly. There were several photographs: all of a very young looking Elijah, all of him naked, all of him naked with another much older man. All of him having sex with the man. In one he was on his knees sucking the man off, the camera catching his lips straining around the man’s flesh. In another he was on his back as the man sat astride his chest, pushing his flesh into Elijah’s mouth as his neck bent back over the edge of the bed. In many others Elijah was being ruthlessly fucked by the man in an assortment of ridiculous positions. The images obscene as the huge engorged cock disappeared into Elijah’s tightly stretched body.
In those positions in which the man could see him, Elijah’s face was contorted in a wild mask of expressions. In the ones he couldn’t be seen Elijah’s face merely registered blank. Nothing was left to the imagination, nothing hidden back, all set out in not so glorious techni-colour.
Orli looked away and bit his lip.
“I really can’t remember,” Elijah said, shaking his head. “Shows how unremarkable it must have been.” That remark hurt Orli almost as much as the photos themselves.
No, not quite as much.
Elijah tried to stuff them back in the envelope. “Forget about them, let’s go to work. Do you want a lift? Shit,” he hissed. The bloody photos wouldn’t go back in and he didn’t want to leave them on show, what if Yvonne just turned up? He stuck his hand inside trying to ease the way and his fingers caught on a folded sheet of paper. He pulled it out, opened it and held it out so that Orli could see it as well.
I’ll ring you.
That was all it said, a simple uncomplicated message. I’ll ring you. But who? When? And more importantly, why?
Elijah’s eyes went from the paper to Orli’s face. It was calm. He raised an eyebrow in question. It was Orli’s turn to shrug. “Who cares? We can tell the bastard to fuck off if he calls.”
“You think he won’t?” Elijah poked the whole lot back into the envelope and turned to look round the kitchen. The junk drawer, that was the best place to dump it. Everyone had a junk drawer and everyone knew only its owner could find anything in it.
“Maybe,” Orli collected up his things again. “Maybe whoever it was just wanted to stir up trouble, like people who send poison pen letters.”
“But why go to all that effort?” Elijah got his bag and searched around for his car keys.
Orli handed them to him. “Because some people have got too much time on their hands or they just can’t abide to see anyone else happy.”
“Happy like we are,” Elijah’s voice rose on the last word but it wasn’t a question. He kissed Orli on the tip of his nose and grinned. “You’re amazing.”
“And good looking,” Orli closed the kitchen door to keep out the decorating dust as they headed down the hall. “You forgot to mention how incredibly good looking I am.”
“Arrogant fucker,” Elijah laughed as he opened the front door, but then a wave of near horror crossed his face as he dashed back to the kitchen.
“’Lijah?” Orli called after him in alarm.
“Won’t be a minute, I nearly forgot the bleeding pasta again.”
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:)xoxoxo
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Love the thought of you reading the first stories to connect with this one, I just love it.
:-)
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wait and see!
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But remember, these two have been through so much, they *know* what's important.
Thanks a million.
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Who is sending them those pics?
Must be someone Elijah been with right? or someone who wants to break Orlando and Elijah!
Ohh this is getting more interesting.
Lillie :)
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Thanks a million.
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Those photos have reinforced for Orli the difference between Elijah then and Elijah now. He *knows* he gets the real thing and he isn't about to lose that. He knows when he's lucky.
Thank you so much, as ever your words are a real pleasure to read.