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fellowshippers2004-03-01 03:28 am
Final Kitchen Sex
Title: Phones and Fridges 3/3
Rating: R for sexual situations and language. No nudity or actual sex, so I didn't feel it deserved NC-17. But if you do, then I'll change it.
Summary: They finally get to the sex! Er, sort of...
Disclaimer: ALL LIES!
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dorli
Part 3: Forgetting the Game
Dom let out a little gasp as Orlando kissed him. Orlando would have smiled at that if his brain wasn’t screaming warnings at him. Dom wasn’t playing right! This isn’t how it was supposed to go! All warnings ceased as Dom opened his mouth, sucking in Orlando’s tongue. Orlando traced Dom’s jaw lightly with the fingertips of his right hand, his left hand on Dom’s hip.
Dom’s hands were still full, and that was bad. No! Orlando’s mind screamed. That’s a good thing! You can still win this! The prize is in sight! But what exactly was the prize now? Before it had been a smug Orlando and a sulking Dom. But Dom had changed the rules. Had he changed the prize as well? Dom with his hands full was good, Orlando decided, ever the strategist. That way he’s still in control.
He pushed on Dom’s hip and started backing him towards the fridge. You really think you’re still in control? his mind taunted, but Orlando ordered it to shut up.
As Dom was pressed hard against the fridge, Orlando’s last strategy got blown all to hell. Dom dropped the bagels and cream cheese, burying one hand in Orlando’s post-Pirates of the Caribbean, pre-Troy thick, curly hair, the other hand in the back pocket of Orlando’s jeans, squeezing, pulling him closer, and just, fuck. Orlando molded himself to the shorter man, their bodies fitting together perfectly in all the right places.
It’s a game, Orlando chanted in his head. It’s a game, it’s a game, it’s a game, it’s a- Orlando’s chant was broken as Dom moaned into Orlando’s mouth, causing Orlando’s hips to buck reflexively, prying another low moan from Dom’s throat. They were both moaning now as Orlando ground against Dom’s hardness. The game was his.
He pried his mouth from Dom’s and trailed light kisses down his jaw to the point where collarbone meets neck. Lick. That produced a sigh. Suck. That produced a gasp. Everything was falling back into place. Without Dom’s treacherous mouth on his, Orlando could think again. Almost. His right hand traveled down Dom’s side to the waistband of his now very restricted cargo pants. Dom started panting in anticipation. But instead of continuing on its merry way, as Dom so obviously wanted, the hand snaked back upward inside Dom’s t-shirt. Then he made a mistake. Bite.
Dom gasped and moaned, “Orli!”
That was it, Orlando was gone. Defeat at the hands of two little syllables in that ultra-sexy voice of Dom’s. He had lost, but he was beyond the point of caring. He panted against Dom’s neck, rocking rhythmically against him, and oh shit, Dom was squeezing again.
“Oh god,” Dom whimpered, his eyes closed, mouth open. Well an open month’s an invitation, Orlando reasoned, tongue darting out to lick Dom’s bottom lip. Shining, mercury-filled eyes flew open and locked with chocolate brown ones as Orlando kissed him slowly, languidly, and it was a miracle he could still do anything slowly. Dom’s eyes started to close again, but a small protesting sound from Orlando forced them back open . He could swim in Dom’s beautiful eyes forever and never get tired. His hand strayed unconsciously to the button of Dom’s pants.
“Still bored?” Dom asked, pulling away a fraction of an inch to take a breath.
“Mmph,” was Orlando’s reply, as Dom didn’t wait for him to answer before fusing their lips together once more. Dom's tongue slid over Orlando’s teeth, caressing the roof of his mouth, and now it was his turn to close his eyes. Dom let him.
The button of Dom’s pants was undone, but Orlando couldn’t remember doing that. Or course, if someone had asked him his name at that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to remember that, either.
“Orlando.” Dom apparently remembered . Not his nickname, but his full name. Somewhere in the back of his mind, alarms were going off. That was wrong, somehow. Things were bordering on serious if Dom was using his full name. All things resembling intelligent thought flew out the window as Dom captured Orlando’s earlobe with his teeth. Orlando’s hands were fumbling with Dom’s zipper now, but apparently his motor skills had abandoned him, along with all words except for “Dom” and “fuckfuckfuck”. If only he could...
“Ahem.”
They froze, Dom’s hands halfway to Orlando’s, all ready to help. Orlando glanced down at Dom to see the look of anger and embarrassment there. He turned around slowly, like a scene out of a horror movie. There, standing with a towel over his mouth, shaking with silent laughter was Elijah...holding out Dom’s cell phone.
Dom’s cell phone!? That could be anybody! Peter, Sean, even Orlando’s mum!
“Aww, they’re done, Billy,” Elijah pouted into the phone, barely able to contain his giggles. Orlando breathed a sigh of relief. Just Billy. Wait! Just Billy!? They would never hear the end of it! Orlando could hear the Scot’s heavily accented voice in his head. “Hey, remember the time you almost shagged Dom against the fridge?”
“Yeah, hold on,” Elijah held out the phone once more, a smirk on his face. “Billy wants to talk to you, Orli.”
Orlando glared at him, shivering slightly as he felt Dom’s hand trail down his back as he pulled away. He took the phone, then slapped Elijah on the back of the head. “Cunt.”
“Fucking eavesdropping cunt,” Dom corrected. Orlando glanced back as he walked into the living room. The look in Dom’s eyes promised so much, if he’d only hurry and get off the damn phone.
But Dom could wait. Maybe he had won after all. “Hello, Billy.”
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The look in Dom’s eyes promised so much
See, Dom's promising me more, and Dom's eyes don't lie.
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Fantastic job!!
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