ext_15659 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2006-07-19 10:37 pm
cloudlessclimes.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-07-19 10:37 pm
Point Five, Orlijah, 2/3
Title: Point Five
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cloudlessclimes
Rated: NC-17
Pairing: OB/EW
Disclaimer: This is purely a product of my diseased mind and has no bearing on reality what so ever, I own no one, I know no one.
Summary: University AU, first time fic. It's in the same AU as Ivy League, Cupcakes & Copulation, Calescent and these two ficlets. Ivy Leauge was supposed to be a one off but it ate my brain, and this story is based on a reference from the first fic I wrote.
Notes: Forcam_a because she made me these beautiful banners and incredibly fantastic icons and is an all 'round wonderful human being.
Betaed by the ever wonderfulqueen_geek with helpful suggestions and cheerleading from talesinbloom
x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bloomwood_
Feedback:Makes the world go 'round.
With a nod, Orlando turns and heads up the steps. He holds the door open and allows Elijah in first. The two men walk down the brightly lit hallway, matching strides and not saying a word. Orlando fishes his key ring out of his jeans pocket, fitting it into the lock and opening the door.
Elijah stumbles into the incredibly tidy room; no clothes on the floor, everything on the desk in its place and the bed neatly made. While Orlando flips on the light and hops to remove his boots, Elijah toes off his high tops and flings his jacket and scarf over the back of the desk chair. The door shuts with a soft metallic click and Orlando picks up Elijah’s discarded jacket to hang it neatly on the hook with his own.
The quiet between them grows until it fills the room. Orlando busies himself with tidying some kind of non-existent mess on his desk, while Elijah stands stretching the sock on one foot with the toe of the other, waiting, hoping, for something, anything.
Orlando turns to look at Elijah, and his unruly curls, free from the confines of his cap, fall over his forehead. He crosses to the center of the room and takes the shorter man into a loose embrace. Rubbing at the soft wool covering Elijah’s shoulders Orlando mutters, “Sorry, man. We’re supposed to be warming up, aren’t we
“Yeah,” Elijah’s arms feel stiff and leaden as they rise to wrap around Orlando’s slim waist. He tilts his head and closes his eyes and prays this is what Orlando means.
Orlando angles his head and lowers his lips to cover Elijah’s and he is filled again with a sense of softness and warmth. He reels Elijah in closer and they stand together, gentle touches and the soft slick swipe of tongues brushing away any remaining awkwardness.
“Christ man, but you can kiss,” Orlando’s exclamation is a soft buzz against the thin skin of Elijah’s earlobe.
“Yeah?” Elijah draws back in their embrace, studying Orlando’s face for any sign of teasing.
“Um-hmm,” the Brit says, nodding his head in affirmation. “You could snog for America, keep at it like that.”
“What, like this?” Elijah slides his hands up into the dark mass of curls at Orlando’s collar, once again claiming the wide smiling mouth.
Orlando snickers and rests his forehead against Elijah’s “Yeah man, exactly like that. Turns my knees to jelly.” His legs quiver in a knock-kneed, exaggerated gesture.
Elijah laughs and the strange tension that had followed them into the room is finally gone. “Well then,” he says in mock seriousness. “You better lie down before you fall down.” And he places his hands flat against Orlando’s pecs and shoves. With an unceremonious flop, Orlando lands all gangly-limbed and sprawled across the mattress of his tiny twin bed.
“Well, you better come too, then. Don’t want me to survive snoggin’ ya only to die of loneliness.” Orlando’s arm snakes around Elijah’s waist and yanks the smaller man down on top of him.
Laughter escapes them both in a jarring exhalation of breath. They stare at each other, eyes wide and mouths gaping, for what seems like an eternity, until Orlando wrestles himself upwards from their tangled limbs and traces the amused curve of Elijah’s bottom lip with his tongue. He explores the upturned corners and the two perfect points of Elijah’s top lip and then teases at the seam between with the tip of his tongue. The boy beneath him groans and slackens his jaw, giving in to Orlando’s insistent explorations.
Huffing impatiently, Orlando shifts and sits up slightly, removing his t-shirt and dropping it to the floor. Elijah groans as his hands now roam across smooth muscles sheathed in soft, olive skin. He can’t conceal his expression of wide-eyed wonder as his hands stroke the lightly freckled rise of Orlando’s shoulders.
“What?” Orlando cocks his head to one side and studies Elijah with an expression of gentle curiosity.
Embarrassed, Elijah’s eye lashes flutter closed as he bites his lip and begins a stumbling explanation. “It’s just, well...I’ve always...always kind of wondered. Wondered what it would be like, you know. To just...to touch you. Whenever I wanted. And now, I know, right?” His hands still and he stares intently at the jut of Orlando’s collarbone, inches from his face.
Orlando melts beneath the gentle presence of Elijah’s blunt fingers. “Fuckin’ amazing, yeah?” He grins and buries his face in the spiked tufts of Elijah’s hair. “Um, I mean,” he coughs and sits back on the bed, rubbing his nose with his forefinger. “It’s not like I’m amazing to touch, or whatever, I just meant that it’s...” his voice trails off and he clears his throat awkwardly.
Elijah laughs, a soft puff of air against Orlando’s shoulder as he wriggles his way back into Orlando’s embrace. “I know what you mean, man.”
“Good. Good,” Orlando nods, and focuses on his own hands, currently rucking up the hem of Elijah’s thin sweater with a slow determination. His thumbs caress the furrows and ridges of Elijah’s rib cage as he lowers his mouth to nibble at the soft stubble at his jaw line.
Exploring, calloused fingers stroke fire across the rouched peaks of Elijah’s nipples and he muffles a groan, hands coming up to circle the lumpy bones of Orlando’s wrists. He silently watches as his index fingers stroke nonsense patters over the green-blue veins beneath the skin there, and he clears his throat. “Uh, Orli?”
“Yeah,” Orlando slowly raises his head to fix Elijah in a lust-dazed, questioning stare.
“Um, do you think, maybe, we could, like turn off the lights?” An embarrassed red stain creeps across Elijah’s cheeks as his fingers remain stubbornly braceleted around Orlando’s wrists.
Orlando extends a long arm up the wall, slapping around for the light switch. “Sure,” he says, just as his fingers brush over the switch, plunging the room into darkness.
“Lij,” Orlando says in a solemn tone, extricating his hands from Elijah’s grasp, “We don’t have to do anything. Anything more than this,” his hands rest lightly at Elijah’s denim-clad waist.
“No ” Elijah sits up quickly. “No, I want to.” He shoves his sweater over his head in a hurried motion, afraid he’ll change his mind. Elijah again takes Orlando’s hands in his, guiding them to his naked torso, grazing them over his skin. “I want this,” he whispers fiercely before rising to his knees and wrapping his arms around Orlando’s neck.
The amazing slide of bare flesh against bare flesh elicits groans, and they pull and tug and shove until they are once more lying prone on the narrow confines of Orlando’s mattress. They silently touch and kiss, exploring each other’s bodies. Orlando’s flicks Elijah’s fly open with his thumb, the silver ring circling it cool against Elijah’s newly exposed skin.
Orlando moans at the feel of firm flesh beneath his hand, but stills when he feels Elijah startle and pull away. Removing his hand from Elijah’s fly, Orlando lies down flat at his side. “Lijah,” he gently, “You’re not a virgin, are you?”
Elijah shoves out of the heavy embrace and retreats to the far corner of the mattress, curling his legs into the circle of his own arms. “No. ” Even in the opaque grey of the room, Orlando can read the expression of hurt incredulity on Elijah’s face.
Nope. Not a virgin. He’s had sex exactly once, thank you very much. With his high school girlfriend. In the back seat of her father’s minivan on prom night. The entire thing had taken about two minutes and the whole time he’d alternated between panic, fear, and a desperate need to just get it over with. And then she’d dumped him the next day. Jesus; his life was some cheesy-ass Middle America cliché.
Orlando sighs and sits up, too. He leans against the cool plaster of the wall and says, attempting to keep his mounting frustration and annoyance out of his voice, “so, you’ve done this before?”
Elijah rests his chin on the peak of his knees and nods silently. Yup. If by this Orlando means a couple of hand jobs and a fumbling attempt at a blow job. Absolutely.
“You’ve let a bloke fuck you, then?” Orlando’s voice is soft as he reaches out a hand and strokes across Elijah’s knee cap.
“Um, not exactly.”
Not exactly, as in no. Never. Not even a little bit. The closest he’s ever gotten is putting a finger or two inside himself when he jerks off in the shower. Elijah raises his thumb and begins chewing enthusiastically at the tattered remains of his cuticle while Orlando stares straight ahead into the darkness.
“It’s okay, you know. But I just want to know. ‘Cause well, it’ll kinda....” Orlando takes a deep breath, incredibly loud in the dark room, and continues, “Well, there’s a great likelihood it’ll hurt some, is all.”
He fidgets beneath Orlando’s stroking fingers but doesn’t answer beyond the slightest shrug of his shoulders. Orlando moves over on the bed until he is kneeling in front of Elijah. “I’d do anything to not hurt you, Lij.”
Raising his head to meet Orlando’s eyes, Elijah is taken back by the look he sees there; shining and wide, and filled with a gentle earnestness, yet impossibly dark. Elijah is momentarily reminded of the cocker spaniel he had when he was a kid. Horrified, he shakes the thought from his head and focuses instead on the shining tangle of Orlando’s curls as he cards through them with his fingers.
“You have to say the words Lijah.” Orlando’s voice is a husky whisper as he leans into the petting. “I need to know this is what you want. I have to hear you say it.”
“I want this.” Elijah’s voice rasps. “I want you. Inside me. I want you to fuck me, Orli.”
"Oh. Oh fucking hell." Orlando raises unsteady hands to stoke over the smooth slope and rise of Elijah's shoulders before dragging him into a rough embrace. His lips ghost across Elijah's mouth and he hovers between Can't believe it's finally fucking happening and Holy shit! It's really happening!. And now he's shaking so badly he can't even think what to do next.
Elijah makes a low, sure grunting noise, and shoves Orlando down onto the mattress. More by luck than any sort of practice or experience, he manages to snick open the buttons on Orlando's fly, yanking hard enough to free long legs from denim. Almost before he realizes what he's doing, he skins off the age-worn soft cotton of Orlando's boxers and flings them into the heap.
Sitting up, Elijah hurriedly removes his own remaining clothes. Jeans, boxers, and socks join the tangled pile at the side of the bed. A long satisfied sigh accompanies Elijah's wriggling into place, flush on top of the smooth length of Orlando's body. "Fucking finally." He mumbles into the spicy sweet Orlando scented bend of shoulder-meets neck.
"Mmmm," Orlando manages to mumble in shaky agreement before craning his neck, allowing a long pass of his mouth across Elijah’s flushed skin. Effortlessly flipping Elijah onto his back, reversing their positions, Orlando laps and sucks, retracing the path his hands had traced moments earlier. Large hands come to rest at fine-boned hips and Orlando tilts Elijah towards him as he continues slow lick-swipes across Elijah’s navel and downwards.
"Wait! Wait!"
Orlando can't hide his irritation, "What now, Elijah?" He tilts his head to glare up at the agitated boy.
"Um, it's just that, well, I thought," Elijah clears his throat and props himself up on his elbows. "Well, in the woods, you know," he makes a flapping motion with his hand, indicating the window and the trees beyond, "I thought I was gonna do you."
Grinning and rubbing his cheek across the blue veined skin of Elijah's thigh, Orlando replies, "Yeah. Yeah. Fuck man, the thought of you blowing me," he pauses to swallow and says "Well, let's just say it's very high on the To Do list. Very high. But right now? Well, it's just that sometimes, when, uhn, when you're the one..." Orlando raises his right hand and makes a scooping, jabbing motion with his index and middle finger, "it's kinda hard to, to finish because it's sort of uhn, painful...And I want it to be good for you, Lijah."
Flustered, Elijah sits up straighter and meets Orlando's softening, somewhat embarrassed glance with a glare of his own. "Dude, feel free to not remind me ever again how much this is gonna hurt."
Orlando's grin turns into a chuckle and the soft puffs of air created by his laughter graze the sensitive skin of Elijah's engorged erection. "So, you're not a sadist then, I take it."
"Um, I think if I liked pain--which I don't, by the way, I so very don't--I think I'd be a masochist."
"Man, are we really gonna argue about this when my mouth is this close," Orlando leans forward and slides the tip of his tongue along the bulging vein at the underside of Elijah's cock, "to your dick?"
The smaller man flops back onto the pillows. "Uhn, good point." Then he lifts his chin to his chest, meeting Orlando's eyes. "Carry on."
"Carry on?" Orlando snorts out a laugh and shakes his head, the movement of his curls against the sensitive skin of Elijah's thighs adding a new layer of sensation to the what is already threatening to overwhelm them both. He shrugs his shoulders, says, "Okay," and swallows Elijah's cock.
“Fuck!” Elijah squeals into the darkened room as he is overwhelmed by the wet heat of Orlando’s eager mouth. His heels dig into the thin mattress and he bunches one fist into the mess of sheets. His other hand hovers over the back of Orlando’s head, unsure. He doesn’t want to push or shove, all he knows is he just wants more.
Orlando’s purr of appreciation shudders along the swollen length. His hips rock against the friction of the bed beneath him. His arousal grows even more as he eagerly takes the bluntness of Elijah’s cock, unexpectedly huge and filling his mouth, deeper. His tongue licks and swirls along the delicately veined shaft, as he works his slicked lips up and down the thick, heated flesh.
Elijah’s fingers curl and grasp a warning to Orlando. “Shit man, I’m gonna come.”
Lifting his mouth ever so slightly from Elijah’s twitching length, Orlando’s lips, made the color of bruised berries in the dull grey glow, slide into a vulpine grin. “Not yet, you’re not,” he breaths across the vulnerable skin of Elijah’s exposed shaft. Spit and sweat and precome shine on Orlando’s lips and chin as he again busies himself, licking and tasting Elijah’s cock. Only this time, his thumb and forefinger have a strong grip at its base, subduing the mercury thick feeling of desire wending its way through Elijah’s bloodstream.
Orland opens his eyes and watches as spider silk threads of his saliva, and the slow leak of Elijah’s precome mingle and bead into the nest of dark curls at the base of Elijah’s cock. God, he could suck Elijah forever. Elijah trembles and swears under his breath, his hands alternately flailing towards the messy tangle of Orlando’s hair, and clutching at the rumpled bedding.
He wants to taste all of Elijah, and so slides further between the prone boy’s legs, nudging them further apart as his mouth continues its hungry exploration. He sucks and gently nips at the delicate skin of Elijah’s sac, before rolling his balls, each one perfect, across his tongue. His lips and mouth continue their wet-drag inventory of Elijah, pressing sure and eager at the dark heat behind his balls, making Elijah grit obscenities between his teeth and his hands grasp uselessly at Orlando’s wide shoulders.
Elijah’s eyes flare wide at the first sensation; the tongue-tip breach of his body. A part of him supposes he should be disgusted. Find it gross. But his nerve endings Spiro-graph into pure, uncut bliss and he cants his hips and shimmies, eager for each slippery thrust of Orlando’s knowing tongue inside his body.
“Fuck, Orli, soon man, please!” Elijah’s entreaty is lost and desperate and Orlando slows his licking and probing to sooth away the anxious tremor spreading like sheet lightening across Elijah’s compact frame.
“I think you’re ready, Lij.” He places a small kiss to the boy’s yielding pucker, then moves his head to the side, his breath slanting across Elijah’s cheeks, tickling the downy fine hairs
Author:
cloudlessclimes Rated: NC-17
Pairing: OB/EW
Disclaimer: This is purely a product of my diseased mind and has no bearing on reality what so ever, I own no one, I know no one.
Summary: University AU, first time fic. It's in the same AU as Ivy League, Cupcakes & Copulation, Calescent and these two ficlets. Ivy Leauge was supposed to be a one off but it ate my brain, and this story is based on a reference from the first fic I wrote.
Notes: For
cam_a because she made me these beautiful banners and incredibly fantastic icons and is an all 'round wonderful human being.
Betaed by the ever wonderful
queen_geek with helpful suggestions and cheerleading from talesinbloomx-posted to
bloomwood_ Feedback:Makes the world go 'round.
With a nod, Orlando turns and heads up the steps. He holds the door open and allows Elijah in first. The two men walk down the brightly lit hallway, matching strides and not saying a word. Orlando fishes his key ring out of his jeans pocket, fitting it into the lock and opening the door.
Elijah stumbles into the incredibly tidy room; no clothes on the floor, everything on the desk in its place and the bed neatly made. While Orlando flips on the light and hops to remove his boots, Elijah toes off his high tops and flings his jacket and scarf over the back of the desk chair. The door shuts with a soft metallic click and Orlando picks up Elijah’s discarded jacket to hang it neatly on the hook with his own.
The quiet between them grows until it fills the room. Orlando busies himself with tidying some kind of non-existent mess on his desk, while Elijah stands stretching the sock on one foot with the toe of the other, waiting, hoping, for something, anything.
Orlando turns to look at Elijah, and his unruly curls, free from the confines of his cap, fall over his forehead. He crosses to the center of the room and takes the shorter man into a loose embrace. Rubbing at the soft wool covering Elijah’s shoulders Orlando mutters, “Sorry, man. We’re supposed to be warming up, aren’t we
“Yeah,” Elijah’s arms feel stiff and leaden as they rise to wrap around Orlando’s slim waist. He tilts his head and closes his eyes and prays this is what Orlando means.
Orlando angles his head and lowers his lips to cover Elijah’s and he is filled again with a sense of softness and warmth. He reels Elijah in closer and they stand together, gentle touches and the soft slick swipe of tongues brushing away any remaining awkwardness.
“Christ man, but you can kiss,” Orlando’s exclamation is a soft buzz against the thin skin of Elijah’s earlobe.
“Yeah?” Elijah draws back in their embrace, studying Orlando’s face for any sign of teasing.
“Um-hmm,” the Brit says, nodding his head in affirmation. “You could snog for America, keep at it like that.”
“What, like this?” Elijah slides his hands up into the dark mass of curls at Orlando’s collar, once again claiming the wide smiling mouth.
Orlando snickers and rests his forehead against Elijah’s “Yeah man, exactly like that. Turns my knees to jelly.” His legs quiver in a knock-kneed, exaggerated gesture.
Elijah laughs and the strange tension that had followed them into the room is finally gone. “Well then,” he says in mock seriousness. “You better lie down before you fall down.” And he places his hands flat against Orlando’s pecs and shoves. With an unceremonious flop, Orlando lands all gangly-limbed and sprawled across the mattress of his tiny twin bed.
“Well, you better come too, then. Don’t want me to survive snoggin’ ya only to die of loneliness.” Orlando’s arm snakes around Elijah’s waist and yanks the smaller man down on top of him.
Laughter escapes them both in a jarring exhalation of breath. They stare at each other, eyes wide and mouths gaping, for what seems like an eternity, until Orlando wrestles himself upwards from their tangled limbs and traces the amused curve of Elijah’s bottom lip with his tongue. He explores the upturned corners and the two perfect points of Elijah’s top lip and then teases at the seam between with the tip of his tongue. The boy beneath him groans and slackens his jaw, giving in to Orlando’s insistent explorations.
Huffing impatiently, Orlando shifts and sits up slightly, removing his t-shirt and dropping it to the floor. Elijah groans as his hands now roam across smooth muscles sheathed in soft, olive skin. He can’t conceal his expression of wide-eyed wonder as his hands stroke the lightly freckled rise of Orlando’s shoulders.
“What?” Orlando cocks his head to one side and studies Elijah with an expression of gentle curiosity.
Embarrassed, Elijah’s eye lashes flutter closed as he bites his lip and begins a stumbling explanation. “It’s just, well...I’ve always...always kind of wondered. Wondered what it would be like, you know. To just...to touch you. Whenever I wanted. And now, I know, right?” His hands still and he stares intently at the jut of Orlando’s collarbone, inches from his face.
Orlando melts beneath the gentle presence of Elijah’s blunt fingers. “Fuckin’ amazing, yeah?” He grins and buries his face in the spiked tufts of Elijah’s hair. “Um, I mean,” he coughs and sits back on the bed, rubbing his nose with his forefinger. “It’s not like I’m amazing to touch, or whatever, I just meant that it’s...” his voice trails off and he clears his throat awkwardly.
Elijah laughs, a soft puff of air against Orlando’s shoulder as he wriggles his way back into Orlando’s embrace. “I know what you mean, man.”
“Good. Good,” Orlando nods, and focuses on his own hands, currently rucking up the hem of Elijah’s thin sweater with a slow determination. His thumbs caress the furrows and ridges of Elijah’s rib cage as he lowers his mouth to nibble at the soft stubble at his jaw line.
Exploring, calloused fingers stroke fire across the rouched peaks of Elijah’s nipples and he muffles a groan, hands coming up to circle the lumpy bones of Orlando’s wrists. He silently watches as his index fingers stroke nonsense patters over the green-blue veins beneath the skin there, and he clears his throat. “Uh, Orli?”
“Yeah,” Orlando slowly raises his head to fix Elijah in a lust-dazed, questioning stare.
“Um, do you think, maybe, we could, like turn off the lights?” An embarrassed red stain creeps across Elijah’s cheeks as his fingers remain stubbornly braceleted around Orlando’s wrists.
Orlando extends a long arm up the wall, slapping around for the light switch. “Sure,” he says, just as his fingers brush over the switch, plunging the room into darkness.
“Lij,” Orlando says in a solemn tone, extricating his hands from Elijah’s grasp, “We don’t have to do anything. Anything more than this,” his hands rest lightly at Elijah’s denim-clad waist.
“No ” Elijah sits up quickly. “No, I want to.” He shoves his sweater over his head in a hurried motion, afraid he’ll change his mind. Elijah again takes Orlando’s hands in his, guiding them to his naked torso, grazing them over his skin. “I want this,” he whispers fiercely before rising to his knees and wrapping his arms around Orlando’s neck.
The amazing slide of bare flesh against bare flesh elicits groans, and they pull and tug and shove until they are once more lying prone on the narrow confines of Orlando’s mattress. They silently touch and kiss, exploring each other’s bodies. Orlando’s flicks Elijah’s fly open with his thumb, the silver ring circling it cool against Elijah’s newly exposed skin.
Orlando moans at the feel of firm flesh beneath his hand, but stills when he feels Elijah startle and pull away. Removing his hand from Elijah’s fly, Orlando lies down flat at his side. “Lijah,” he gently, “You’re not a virgin, are you?”
Elijah shoves out of the heavy embrace and retreats to the far corner of the mattress, curling his legs into the circle of his own arms. “No. ” Even in the opaque grey of the room, Orlando can read the expression of hurt incredulity on Elijah’s face.
Nope. Not a virgin. He’s had sex exactly once, thank you very much. With his high school girlfriend. In the back seat of her father’s minivan on prom night. The entire thing had taken about two minutes and the whole time he’d alternated between panic, fear, and a desperate need to just get it over with. And then she’d dumped him the next day. Jesus; his life was some cheesy-ass Middle America cliché.
Orlando sighs and sits up, too. He leans against the cool plaster of the wall and says, attempting to keep his mounting frustration and annoyance out of his voice, “so, you’ve done this before?”
Elijah rests his chin on the peak of his knees and nods silently. Yup. If by this Orlando means a couple of hand jobs and a fumbling attempt at a blow job. Absolutely.
“You’ve let a bloke fuck you, then?” Orlando’s voice is soft as he reaches out a hand and strokes across Elijah’s knee cap.
“Um, not exactly.”
Not exactly, as in no. Never. Not even a little bit. The closest he’s ever gotten is putting a finger or two inside himself when he jerks off in the shower. Elijah raises his thumb and begins chewing enthusiastically at the tattered remains of his cuticle while Orlando stares straight ahead into the darkness.
“It’s okay, you know. But I just want to know. ‘Cause well, it’ll kinda....” Orlando takes a deep breath, incredibly loud in the dark room, and continues, “Well, there’s a great likelihood it’ll hurt some, is all.”
He fidgets beneath Orlando’s stroking fingers but doesn’t answer beyond the slightest shrug of his shoulders. Orlando moves over on the bed until he is kneeling in front of Elijah. “I’d do anything to not hurt you, Lij.”
Raising his head to meet Orlando’s eyes, Elijah is taken back by the look he sees there; shining and wide, and filled with a gentle earnestness, yet impossibly dark. Elijah is momentarily reminded of the cocker spaniel he had when he was a kid. Horrified, he shakes the thought from his head and focuses instead on the shining tangle of Orlando’s curls as he cards through them with his fingers.
“You have to say the words Lijah.” Orlando’s voice is a husky whisper as he leans into the petting. “I need to know this is what you want. I have to hear you say it.”
“I want this.” Elijah’s voice rasps. “I want you. Inside me. I want you to fuck me, Orli.”
"Oh. Oh fucking hell." Orlando raises unsteady hands to stoke over the smooth slope and rise of Elijah's shoulders before dragging him into a rough embrace. His lips ghost across Elijah's mouth and he hovers between Can't believe it's finally fucking happening and Holy shit! It's really happening!. And now he's shaking so badly he can't even think what to do next.
Elijah makes a low, sure grunting noise, and shoves Orlando down onto the mattress. More by luck than any sort of practice or experience, he manages to snick open the buttons on Orlando's fly, yanking hard enough to free long legs from denim. Almost before he realizes what he's doing, he skins off the age-worn soft cotton of Orlando's boxers and flings them into the heap.
Sitting up, Elijah hurriedly removes his own remaining clothes. Jeans, boxers, and socks join the tangled pile at the side of the bed. A long satisfied sigh accompanies Elijah's wriggling into place, flush on top of the smooth length of Orlando's body. "Fucking finally." He mumbles into the spicy sweet Orlando scented bend of shoulder-meets neck.
"Mmmm," Orlando manages to mumble in shaky agreement before craning his neck, allowing a long pass of his mouth across Elijah’s flushed skin. Effortlessly flipping Elijah onto his back, reversing their positions, Orlando laps and sucks, retracing the path his hands had traced moments earlier. Large hands come to rest at fine-boned hips and Orlando tilts Elijah towards him as he continues slow lick-swipes across Elijah’s navel and downwards.
"Wait! Wait!"
Orlando can't hide his irritation, "What now, Elijah?" He tilts his head to glare up at the agitated boy.
"Um, it's just that, well, I thought," Elijah clears his throat and props himself up on his elbows. "Well, in the woods, you know," he makes a flapping motion with his hand, indicating the window and the trees beyond, "I thought I was gonna do you."
Grinning and rubbing his cheek across the blue veined skin of Elijah's thigh, Orlando replies, "Yeah. Yeah. Fuck man, the thought of you blowing me," he pauses to swallow and says "Well, let's just say it's very high on the To Do list. Very high. But right now? Well, it's just that sometimes, when, uhn, when you're the one..." Orlando raises his right hand and makes a scooping, jabbing motion with his index and middle finger, "it's kinda hard to, to finish because it's sort of uhn, painful...And I want it to be good for you, Lijah."
Flustered, Elijah sits up straighter and meets Orlando's softening, somewhat embarrassed glance with a glare of his own. "Dude, feel free to not remind me ever again how much this is gonna hurt."
Orlando's grin turns into a chuckle and the soft puffs of air created by his laughter graze the sensitive skin of Elijah's engorged erection. "So, you're not a sadist then, I take it."
"Um, I think if I liked pain--which I don't, by the way, I so very don't--I think I'd be a masochist."
"Man, are we really gonna argue about this when my mouth is this close," Orlando leans forward and slides the tip of his tongue along the bulging vein at the underside of Elijah's cock, "to your dick?"
The smaller man flops back onto the pillows. "Uhn, good point." Then he lifts his chin to his chest, meeting Orlando's eyes. "Carry on."
"Carry on?" Orlando snorts out a laugh and shakes his head, the movement of his curls against the sensitive skin of Elijah's thighs adding a new layer of sensation to the what is already threatening to overwhelm them both. He shrugs his shoulders, says, "Okay," and swallows Elijah's cock.
“Fuck!” Elijah squeals into the darkened room as he is overwhelmed by the wet heat of Orlando’s eager mouth. His heels dig into the thin mattress and he bunches one fist into the mess of sheets. His other hand hovers over the back of Orlando’s head, unsure. He doesn’t want to push or shove, all he knows is he just wants more.
Orlando’s purr of appreciation shudders along the swollen length. His hips rock against the friction of the bed beneath him. His arousal grows even more as he eagerly takes the bluntness of Elijah’s cock, unexpectedly huge and filling his mouth, deeper. His tongue licks and swirls along the delicately veined shaft, as he works his slicked lips up and down the thick, heated flesh.
Elijah’s fingers curl and grasp a warning to Orlando. “Shit man, I’m gonna come.”
Lifting his mouth ever so slightly from Elijah’s twitching length, Orlando’s lips, made the color of bruised berries in the dull grey glow, slide into a vulpine grin. “Not yet, you’re not,” he breaths across the vulnerable skin of Elijah’s exposed shaft. Spit and sweat and precome shine on Orlando’s lips and chin as he again busies himself, licking and tasting Elijah’s cock. Only this time, his thumb and forefinger have a strong grip at its base, subduing the mercury thick feeling of desire wending its way through Elijah’s bloodstream.
Orland opens his eyes and watches as spider silk threads of his saliva, and the slow leak of Elijah’s precome mingle and bead into the nest of dark curls at the base of Elijah’s cock. God, he could suck Elijah forever. Elijah trembles and swears under his breath, his hands alternately flailing towards the messy tangle of Orlando’s hair, and clutching at the rumpled bedding.
He wants to taste all of Elijah, and so slides further between the prone boy’s legs, nudging them further apart as his mouth continues its hungry exploration. He sucks and gently nips at the delicate skin of Elijah’s sac, before rolling his balls, each one perfect, across his tongue. His lips and mouth continue their wet-drag inventory of Elijah, pressing sure and eager at the dark heat behind his balls, making Elijah grit obscenities between his teeth and his hands grasp uselessly at Orlando’s wide shoulders.
Elijah’s eyes flare wide at the first sensation; the tongue-tip breach of his body. A part of him supposes he should be disgusted. Find it gross. But his nerve endings Spiro-graph into pure, uncut bliss and he cants his hips and shimmies, eager for each slippery thrust of Orlando’s knowing tongue inside his body.
“Fuck, Orli, soon man, please!” Elijah’s entreaty is lost and desperate and Orlando slows his licking and probing to sooth away the anxious tremor spreading like sheet lightening across Elijah’s compact frame.
“I think you’re ready, Lij.” He places a small kiss to the boy’s yielding pucker, then moves his head to the side, his breath slanting across Elijah’s cheeks, tickling the downy fine hairs
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