Fic: The Underside of the World

[v-angelique.livejournal.com]

Title: The Underside of the World
Author: Viktoria Angelique (v_angelique)
Pairing: OB/KU/HS
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Buckets of untruth.
Summary: So after my first attempt at the OT3 'o Doom, I told azewewish that I would try again for something a little more balanced (ie; not give Orlando the shaft). I think maybe this time I put in too much Orlando, but the jury's still out. Just a little snippet set sometime close to the present.



Karl smiled as he entered the backyard, the long blades of grass tickling his bare toes. The January day was hot but not unbearable, and he wore his shirt unbuttoned with a pair of sunglasses on top of his head, keeping the strands of hair that were getting a bit too long out of his eyes. Harry's backyard had been one of the selling points of the property, a wide slope that extended downhill from the back veranda and ended in a grove of tea trees. Just at the crest of the hill was an aberration in the green, in the form of a familiar tuft of dark brown curls.

"Whatcha doing, sunshine?"

The response was an incoherent mumble, so Karl kept walking. Orlando was lying with his bare feet pointing down the hill and his arms crossed to form a pillow for his forehead.

"You know, if you're trying to get a tan, I think you're already there," Karl teased, taking a seat next to Orlando's head facing downhill.

"I was taking a moment to stop and smell the roses," Orlando mumbled.

Karl smiled and pressed the flat of his hand to Orlando's back, rubbing gently through his shirt. "Sounds like a productive use of the holiday."

"Keeps me from going crazy. You keep me from going crazy," Orlando amended. "You know, the earth smells different here."

"Different from the earth in England?"

"From the earth anywhere."

"Do you make a habit of pressing your nose into English dirt?"

"Not anymore."

Karl grinned.

"I saw an ostrich in a museum once."

"A live ostrich?"

"Not live. It was stuffed."

"Uh huh."

"It had its head stuck in the ground."

"In the ground?"

"Well the floor, really. It was an art thing."

"How is an ostrich with its head stuck through the floor art?"

Orlando tried to shrug, though his position limited the movement. "How should I know? These things are subjective."

"Right."

"Anyway. I kind of sympathise with the ostrich."

"Because you like smelling dirt?"

"Because I see the appeal to putting one's head underground every once in a while."

Karl nodded, though Orlando couldn't see him, and put his nails into the light backrub, scratching slightly.

"When you were little, did you ever try to dig a tunnel to see if you could get to China?"

"No."

"No?" Orlando turned his head to the side, squinting into the sun until he managed to twist more into Karl's shadow. "I thought everyone did that."

"No. We tried to get to England," Karl explained with a wide grin. Orlando laughed and tried to push his face into Karl's crotch.

"Loser."

"Hey, you, off!" Karl exclaimed, laughing as he scooted away in a severely impaired crab walk. "What are you, an overgrown puppy dog?"

Orlando huffed loudly and returned to his original position, except that his chin was on his arms now and he was looking at Karl's toes.

"It must be weird, growing up on the underside of the world. You're like… the world's arse."

"Gee, thanks," Karl muttered.

"Well you are!"

"If we're the world's arse, then you're its armpit."

"Its armpit? What the hell is that…"

"Hey Harry!" Karl called, as the back door slammed shut. "Did you hear? Orli's the armpit of the world!"

Harry grinned and walked down the stairs, around the side of the veranda and over to Karl and Orlando.

"Ah, but I like his armpit," he said, kneeling down on Orlando's opposite side and burying his nose under Orlando's arm for a sniff before sitting up again.

"Harry, I know this is hard to believe, but I think you may be even weirder than Viggo," Orlando mumbled.

"Yeah? Thanks."

"You're very welcome."

Harry grinned and straddled Orlando's hips, sitting on his arse and digging his fingertips into Orlando's shoulders without preamble. Orlando let out a low groan, and Karl watched with some interest.

"Have I ever mentioned that you make lovely sounds?" Harry asked.

"Many times," Orlando replied.

"Good. It's true."

"Thank you."

Karl smiled and reached out to ruffle Orlando's curls as Harry continued down his back.

"We've missed you."

"I know."

"I wish you'd come hide out here more," Karl admitted. "But I understand why you don't."

"Really? Because I don't."

"You're a star," Harry reasoned. "Far be it from me to understand the workings of stars."

"Not true," Orlando objected. "Remember that time, out on the South Island? You told me the name of every constellation while you fucked me. Wouldn't let me come until I'd memorised them, or have you forgotten?"

"Oh no," Harry replied, smiling as he bent and bit the back of Orlando's neck. "I remember it well."

"Crazy old man," Karl murmured fondly.

"Don't you start."

"I thought you liked being called crazy."

"Don't like being called old."

"No? You're distinguished, then. Sexy." Karl caught Harry's eyes as Orlando let out a particularly pleased groan. Harry didn't drop the gaze as he reached down and coaxed Orlando's jeans off his slim hips.

"Orlando says he likes the way the earth smells here," Karl commented off-handedly, his voice quiet.

"Does he now?"

"It's nice," Orlando replied, a bit breathy. "It's more… I don't know. Just, more."

Harry smiled and bent down to press a kiss to Orlando's tailbone, sucking gently. "Lovely little bird," he murmured, and Orlando shivered hard.

"Harry."

"What is it, little bird?"

"Please."

"See that, Karl? Even minds his manners for me," Harry teased.

"I can't imagine why." Karl rolled his eyes as Harry slid back up to suck on the wing of Orlando's shoulder blade, running his open mouth along its length as he fished in his back pocket for lube.

"Fuck me, Harry," Orlando murmured.

"Don't think I will."

"Harry," Orlando whinged. "Why not?"

"Because, little bird," Harry replied with a smile, sliding a slick finger inside Orlando in one thrust and earning a quiet hiss for his efforts, "I overheard the end of your little conversation just now. You said we were the arse of the world—not very nice, was it?"

"Oh but it's such a lovely arse," Orlando wheedled, as Harry laughed and curled his finger, rubbing the familiar gland inside Orlando's body in time with his kisses, placed noisily along the length of Orlando's spine, one for each bump.

"Are you hard, Karl?" Harry asked conversationally as he slid in another finger.

"Jesus, Harry, what kind of question is that?" Karl asked, a little short of breath himself. Harry grinned and twisted his upper body slightly, used his free hand to cup Karl's chin and pulled him in for a hard, messy kiss.

"A good one. Are you hard?"

"Yeah, you fucker, what of it?"

"Well you can't very well fuck young Orlando here if you're not hard, can you?"

"Harry!" Orlando yelped, and Harry grinned.

"Well?"

"What happened to arse of the world?" Karl asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Ah," Harry agreed with a jovial grin. "Good point. No one fucks Orlando this afternoon, then."

"Damnit!" Orlando groaned. "I swear to God, one of you had better fuck me or I'm going to head into the city and find…"

"Karl," Harry interrupted, cutting Orlando off with the authority in his tone. "Still hard, mate?"

"That's a bloody dumb question."

"Better be nice to me, Karl," Harry replied mildly, speeding his fingers up a little in Orlando's arse.

"Why's that, Harry?"

"Because I have a reason for my question."

"Oh, all right," Karl sighed, playing along. "Why do you ask, Harry?" he sing-songed.

"Because I can't very well suck your cock until you come down my throat if you're not hard, can I Karl?"

"Fuck," Karl groaned as Orlando tried to push his arse up into Harry's fingers, gripping the grass so hard he ripped quite a few blades out.

"Orlando," Harry reprimanded, giving his fingers a hard flick. "Don't abuse my lawn."

"Harry…"

"Scoot downhill a bit and lie down Karl, on your back next to him, that's a good lad," Harry instructed cheekily, ignoring Karl's eye roll as he undid his zipper. "My mum taught me to multitask from a very early age."

"I sure as hell hope your mum didn't teach you this," Orlando muttered, yelping when Harry shoved a third finger in just for kicks on the next thrust.

"Impertinent pup. Karl?"

"Yes?"

"Comfy?"

"Not particularly," Karl answered honestly, folding his hands behind his head.

"That's all right," Harry replied, grinning at Karl as he shuffled over to straddle Karl's legs instead of Orlando's, keeping his fingers moving in Orlando's arse even as he did so. "This won't take long."

Karl groaned as Harry bent down and took the head of Karl's cock into his mouth, fluttering his tongue along the underside and tracing the ridge before licking up to taste the slit, his free hand holding the shaft steady.

"Christ, Harry."

Harry looked up and grinned, letting Karl's dick go momentarily to speak. "You know, I still haven't quite wrapped my head around why you always insist on declaring me a deity when I'm sucking your cock."

"That's funny," Karl replied, pausing to moan when Harry leaned back down and gave the head a particularly hard suck before settling into something of a rhythm, "because I still haven't quite wrapped my head around why you always insist on talking when your mouth should be full."

Harry's eyes sparkled but he ignored the comment, going down a little further, scraping ever so gently with his teeth. Karl hissed and Orlando whimpered, trying to push up against the slowing fingers.

"Harry," he begged. "Don't stop, please."

"Christ, yeah," Karl gasped, reaching down to cup the back of Harry's head as he picked up the pace, sucking in counterpoint with his the movement of his fist. "What he said."

Harry hummed around Karl's cock and covered his teeth carefully again before sucking harder, his hand leaving the shaft to travel downward, toying with Karl's balls and stroking twice against his perineum.

"Oh." Karl gasped, his head falling back and his mouth falling open. "Harry."

"Ah…" Orlando groaned, half a second later. "Harry, God, keep going; I'm going to come."

"Fuck, Orli," Karl whispered, turning his head at the same time Orlando did. They caught each other's eye and each reached out, fingers tangling in the grass.

"More," they whispered in perfect unison, and Harry went all the way down, Karl's pubic hair tickling his nose as his fingers scraped in a determined rhythm over Orlando's prostate. When they came, the yard was full with sound. Harry imagined their moans as a symphony with only two parts, melody and harmony, carrying past the grove of trees and to the sea beyond. For a moment, as Harry licked Karl clean and drew his fingers away, cuddling up between them with his own hard cock pressing contented for now against the ridge of his fly, the yard was silent, but Harry imagined echoes.

"Orlando?" Karl murmured after a moment, his head lolling to the side so that his lips pressed against Harry's stubbled cheek.

"Yeah?"

"You know you can always… put your head in the ground here, right?"

Orlando chuckled and shook his head. "You're an odd duck."

"But you do know?"

"Yeah."

Karl smiled, and clasped Orlando's hand on Harry's belly, and imagined he could feel the world spin.