FIC: "Room Service" 1/1 (Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean) NC-17 Lotrips
Title: "Room Service" 1/1
Author: Brenda (azewewish)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sean rescues Orlando from the world's dullest party.
Feedback: Love it.
Disclaimer: Never happened. Well, except for the bit with Sean really being in L.A. to promote 'The Hitcher' and Orlando really being in Hawaii for his birthday.
Notes: Because I've missed writing Lotrips and the idea wouldn't leave me alone. Thanks to cupiscent and trianne for the betas. :)
January 5, 2007
Orlando was on his second pint and trying to figure out how to gracefully get the hell out of this party without the host knowing - said host being one of his really good friends and all, even if the bloke couldn't put together a decent party to save his life - when 'Club Foot' by Kasabian started playing on his cell phone. If it was 'Club Foot' - because he'd had it programmed with different rings for different people a long time ago so he'd know when to avoid Eric calling at random times to tell him to wash behind his ears, Elijah's high-pitched enthusiasm about bands Orlando'd never heard of, and Viggo's, uh, well, everything, mostly non-sequiter, some of it in languages Orlando didn't even know - but, the point was, if it was 'Club Foot', it could only be one person.
Bean.
Not that Orlando thought Sean would get the choice of song, of course, or that it was special to him or anything - hell, he didn't even think that Sean listened to new Britrock - but the band, and the song, reminded Orlando of England. Of smoky pubs with bitter ale, of verdant fields and winding stretches of road, of match days and cheering his team on with his mates in the fuck-off cold, of misty rain and tiny alleyways and buildings with history and the toxic experiment that was the Thames.
And Sean, in all of his thick Northern glory, was England, as far as Orlando was concerned.
He stepped out onto the patio and flipped his phone open, wide smile already in place. "You've reached Orlando Bloom's voicemail, how may I direct your call?"
The low, smoky voice on the other end chuckled. "Orlando himself too busy to talk to an old friend?"
"Well, you know how he is. Big important movie star and all. He's too busy chasing starlets and trashing hotel rooms to hang with his old mates."
"I see. Which starlets?"
"Oh no, no favors. You'll just have to read 'Life & Style' like everyone else," Orlando laughed, and fished a cigarette out of his coat pocket. His host had a strict non-smoking policy at his parties, but fuck it. Orlando started talking to Sean and immediately wanted a smoke.
"Fair enough," Sean replied in a genial tone. "Where are you, anyway?"
"Oh, a friend's. He's celebrating taking over the free world or it's a wrap party or he's introducing his new girlfriend or...hell, I don't know why he's throwing it."
"Why're you there, then?"
"That, luv, is a very good question, and one I was just contemplating when you called."
"Well, then," Sean's voice dropped, deepened, "maybe I could rescue you from that. If you've a mind."
Orlando squeezed on his cock to ease a bit of the pressure. Every. Single. Time. Didn't matter where Orlando was or what he was doing, if Sean pulled that voice trick on him, he always got rock hard. Bloody inconvenient at times. "So, you're just ordering me up like room service, is that it?" he joked, even though his voice was far too breathless for his liking.
There was a slight pause on the other end, and Orlando took a long, cleansing drag of his cigarette while he waited. "Well, I wouldn'ta put it quite like that," Sean finally said, in that same rough, low voice that screamed of danger and sticky sex, "but yeah. Maybe I am."
"Bugger off. I'm not your bloody personal whore." Although there'd been a few people on both the 'Rings' and 'Troy' sets that would beg to differ, not that Orlando paid any attention. Well, much attention.
"That's hardly fair."
Orlando turned away from the view, stared through the sliding glass door at the party, the milling crowds of girls in skinny jeans, jewel-tone chemise tops and razor-straight hair, and men with open-collared shirts, million-dollar smiles and fake tans. Some days, he wondered if there was anything real in this town. "How's that?" he asked, focusing on Sean's voice.
"Never called you a whore, did I?"
"Well, no, but -"
"Come over, then. I'll even tip you."
Orlando raised an eyebrow, even though he knew Sean couldn't see him. "Tip me?"
"Well, if you are room service..." Sean trailed off meaningfully, and Orlando couldn't help the laugh.
"Selfish bastard, I knew this was all about you."
"Don't be thick, I was only teasing. 'Sides, 't'int like you don't want it."
Which was neither here nor there, and they both knew it. "Maybe I'm waiting for you to ask nice," Orlando said, and ground out the cigarette butt before putting it in his pocket. No evidence, no crime.
"And maybe if I'd wanted nice, I'd've sent you flowers and chocolates." When Sean spoke again, his voice was a slithering, dangerous growl that sent heat spiking along Orlando's spine. "Do I need to woo you like some bird to get hard, bangin' sex?"
Really, how was Orlando supposed to react when Sean started cheating like that? "You best be naked and still hard when I get there."
"That's my boy."
***
Orlando barely made it in the door.
There was no 'hi, how are you, missed you, let's catch up'...no words at all, when it came right down to it. Orlando knocked politely, then had just enough time to shove his hands in his coat pockets before the door opened and Sean yanked him inside. Orlando stumbled, a half-assed joke on his lips about Sean not being able to wait, but then Sean's mouth was on his, tongue pushing past his teeth, and the words were forgotten in a sharp, brutal haze of heat.
Sean slammed him against the door, and he winced when his head bounced against unforgiving wood, but it didn't stop him from pushing back. From tugging up on the thin fabric of Sean's t-shirt and returning the kiss with everything in him. Teeth clanked, tongues tangled, and Orlando could taste the sour bite of lemons in Sean's kiss.
Then Sean tugged at the rubber band holding Orlando's hair back from his face and grabbed a handful, yanking Orlando's head back to scrape a stubbled kiss along his throat. Orlando's moan was part wild animal, part human greed, and he gave up trying to get Sean's shirt off in favor of popping the button's of Sean's jeans and shoving them down muscled legs. He didn't much care about naked at this point - he just wanted Sean's cock.
Sean let out a low groan when Orlando wrapped long fingers around him, started to tug with a hard, practiced slide. "Fuck..."
"I certainly hope so," Orlando laughed, and nipped at Sean's ear. "Tell me you've got something close by."
Sean pointed at the end table by the door, and Orlando grinned when he saw the bottle of 'Wet'. "Told you what I wanted, didn't I?" Sean growled.
It wasn’t really a question.
Orlando shrugged out of his coat and unzipped his jeans as Sean snagged the bottle and tossed his shirt off in a careless sweep.
They went crashing onto the carpet in a pile of limbs, lips fused together as Orlando tried to crawl inside Sean's body and Sean cupped Orlando's ass. Cocks slid together in rough friction - Christ, Sean was bloody good at frottage - and Orlando sucked hard on Sean's tongue to disguise the whimper. His shirt was matted to his chest, felt heavy, cumbersome on heated skin, but it was too much effort to remove it.
Removing it would mean moving from Sean.
Sean finally gained the upper hand and rolled Orlando onto his back, using muscle and mass to keep him pinned. "You gonna fuck me or we just gonna snog messy-like all night like a couple of girls?" Orlando asked, arching against the hold, wanting more.
Sean's answering smirk was the sexiest thing Orlando'd ever seen. He let go of one of Orlando's hands to grab the bottle. "Just begging for it, aren't you?"
Orlando finished kicking off his jeans, pulled off his shirt and watched in hungry fascination as Sean coated his cock. He found himself jealous of the lube for getting closer to Sean than he currently was, and the hunger made his voice thick. "Not getting any younger."
"Pushy bastard." Sean hooked his arms under Orlando's knees and yanked him close. "This won't be gentle."
Orlando appreciated the sentiment in the warning, really, he did, but honestly? He didn't care. "You didn't promise gentle," he reminded Sean, then hissed as Sean started to slide inside, cock invading him inch by tortuous inch.
"Always...tight…as buggery," Sean bit out between clenched teeth, and looked down at Orlando, lust turning already brilliant green eyes into a glittering inferno. The next moment, he started moving, hips pumping relentless and fast, driving himself deep inside Orlando's ass.
More...more...c'mon... Orlando kept up a steady chant in his head, even as his back arched off of rough carpet and he tried to match Sean's movements, tried to match each of the brutal thrusts with his own. Felt like Sean was splitting him in two.
Every single time with Sean was better than the last, which was saying something. After however many years of this open, easy relationship, Orlando used to think he'd wake up one day and be immune to Sean's crooked grin, the rough way he said Orlando's name, the way the sex was always different, yet always the same. Used to think that one day he'd be able to say no.
The idea seemed laughable these days.
"Gimme yer tongue," and Orlando obeyed without thought, gripping tight onto Sean's shoulders as their tongues tangled, slid in slick friction. Muscle bunched under his hands as Sean moved, hips pumping with hard, staccato thrusts. Sweat dripped from Sean's forehead onto Orlando's, a fine sheen sticking to the hairs on Sean's chest, onto Orlando's, as Sean drove Orlando into the carpet.
Then Sean pulled back, yanked Orlando's legs further apart and slammed forward, balls slapping against Orlando's ass. "Touch yourself." The command was grunted out with another thrust.
Orlando never could resist that tone... He licked at dry lips, curled a shaking hand around his cock, meeting Sean's eyes as he twisted his fist in time with the flex of Sean's hips. It only took three tugs, white-hot sparks dancing behind his eyes as he came all over his hand and stomach. He was still light-headed and lethargic when Sean stiffened, and collapsed on top of him.
For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were of harsh breathing.
"So, where's my tip, then, yeah?" Orlando finally asked, summoning enough energy to lift his head and give Sean an expectant smirk. He was sticky, sweaty and had rug burn from hell. He felt bloody fantastic.
Sean's laugh was slightly breathless as he dropped his elbows to each side of Orlando's head. "Christ, you're mercenary."
"And you're a cheap bastard," Orlando retorted, and jabbed Sean's chest. "Couldn't wait for me to get my kit off to lay into me, and now no tip."
"I'll give you everything in my wallet if you stay the night. How's that?"
"Fuck off." Orlando stretched under Sean, feeling the twinge in sore, used muscles. "Probably only have a fiver in there."
"If that," Sean replied, and dropped his head for a quick kiss. "But, you are staying?"
"Course I'm bloody staying." What the fuck kind of daft question was that? "Ain't fucked you blind yet, have I?"
Sean just shook his head, and moved his hand, fingers threading through Orlando's hair as he drew him up for a soft kiss. "I love you too, Orlando."
Orlando returned the smile. "Yeah, I know."
***
There wasn't a sexier sound in the world than Sean's voice begging Orlando to fuck him faster, harder, move yer bleedin' arse. And Orlando would cheerfully beat anyone that said different.
"This it?" he asked and twisted his hips, driving himself deeper into Sean's heat.
"Fuck yeah..." Sean clawed at Orlando's shoulders, sweat stinging over red marks and Orlando leaned down, lost himself in the sin that was Sean's kiss.
***
Orlando flopped onto his back with a satisfied moan, chest heaving as he sucked in much-needed oxygen. His limbs felt like rubber. "Fucking brilliant..."
"Haven't lost yer touch," Sean agreed, the words slurred, low.
"Feel like I could eat a horse now, though."
"So order something up." Orlando watched in envious fascination as Sean swung his legs off the bed and stood, stretching his arms to the ceiling. Bastard could at least have the decency to pretend that Orlando'd fucked him too hard to move. But it was hard to be all that put out when watching the play of muscle under gold-hued, gleaming skin. From the blond strands of hair curling behind his ears to the arch of his feet, Sean radiated sex and confidence.
Orlando still dreamed of the day when he would grow up and be like Sean.
"You, uh..." he forced his gaze away from chiseled pecs, "you want anything?"
"They do an alright steak sandwich. Order me up one, and join me in the shower when you're done."
Orlando watched in lustful appreciation as Sean walked into the bathroom. Absolutely world-class arse.
The call to room service was the fastest one Orlando could remember making.
***
"So, what've you been up to, then, besides hanging about at dull parties?"
"Eh, not a lot. Taking some time, reading through a few scripts," Orlando replied, and took a big bite of his salad. They were both naked, still damp from the shower, and cozied together at the small dining table tucked into a corner of the suite. "Bought a house in London, fixing it up," he continued, between crunches.
Sean dropped a bite of steak into his mouth and gave Orlando an interested look. "Yeah?"
"Mmhmm. Not too far off from Belsize Park."
"Cheeky. You stalking me now?"
Orlando leaned over and gave Sean a sticky kiss on the cheek. "Always, love."
Sean's smile was just this side of shy, made the crinkles around his eyes even more pronounced. It was Orlando's favorite smile. "Got anything planned for the big birthday?"
"Yeah, of course." Orlando's eyes lit up. "Party here, then I'm headed out to get in some surfing in Hawaii."
"Sounds like fun."
"You should come with."
"What, to Hawaii?" Sean asked, after swallowing his final bite of sandwich.
"Yeah, c'mon. It'll be great. Sun, surf, plenty of hot sex..." Orlando's brows waggled, the leer friendly. "I'd make it worth your while."
Sean fitted their hands together, fingers sliding comfortably over each other, and Orlando read the apology in the gesture before Sean opened his mouth. "I've got a film to promote, you know that."
"Yeah, well, I don't turn 30 every day," Orlando shrugged, and tried not to be too disappointed. It was as spur of the moment invite, nothing to get upset over.
"I know. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
***
The sun was blinding bright, reflecting off the water in brilliant prisms as Orlando made his way towards the shore, pushing his board in front of him. His muscles were pleasantly tired from exertion. His toes dug deep into the sand, and he unzipped his wetsuit once he was only calf-deep. Good morning, man; the waves had been killer.
He shook his head to get the worst of the excess water out of his hair and ran a hand across his face to clear his eyes. When his vision cleared, it took him a minute to process the person waiting for him.
Sean, in loose linen pants, deck shoes and a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned halfway. Sean, who was offering a crooked, sheepish grin as he cocked his head and shrugged.
"Forgive me?"
The shock only lasted a moment before pure, unadulterated joy took its place. "Fuck me, you came. You're here!" With a loud whoop, Orlando launched himself at Sean, dropping the board on the sand.
Sean caught him easily enough, then went stumbling backwards as Orlando wrapped his legs around Sean's hips and gave him a loud, wet kiss.
"Christ, you weigh a bleedin' ton," Sean grumbled, but Orlando noticed Sean wasn't letting go of his grip on Orlando's ass.
"Oh, stuff it, you love me," he grinned, certain it had to rival the sun for brilliance. Sean, the sneaky bugger, was here.
"I must. Here, an't I?" Orlando hummed happily into the kiss, parting Sean's lips with a flicker of his tongue. "So, when do I get this sex you were goin' on about?" Sean asked, when he lifted his head.
"Soon as we get back to my room."
"Now we're talking." He set Orlando on his feet and the kiss was firm, full of need and heat. Orlando was rock hard by the time they pulled apart. "Oh, and Orlando?"
"Yeah?"
"Happy birthday."
***
Author: Brenda (azewewish)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sean rescues Orlando from the world's dullest party.
Feedback: Love it.
Disclaimer: Never happened. Well, except for the bit with Sean really being in L.A. to promote 'The Hitcher' and Orlando really being in Hawaii for his birthday.
Notes: Because I've missed writing Lotrips and the idea wouldn't leave me alone. Thanks to cupiscent and trianne for the betas. :)
January 5, 2007
Orlando was on his second pint and trying to figure out how to gracefully get the hell out of this party without the host knowing - said host being one of his really good friends and all, even if the bloke couldn't put together a decent party to save his life - when 'Club Foot' by Kasabian started playing on his cell phone. If it was 'Club Foot' - because he'd had it programmed with different rings for different people a long time ago so he'd know when to avoid Eric calling at random times to tell him to wash behind his ears, Elijah's high-pitched enthusiasm about bands Orlando'd never heard of, and Viggo's, uh, well, everything, mostly non-sequiter, some of it in languages Orlando didn't even know - but, the point was, if it was 'Club Foot', it could only be one person.
Bean.
Not that Orlando thought Sean would get the choice of song, of course, or that it was special to him or anything - hell, he didn't even think that Sean listened to new Britrock - but the band, and the song, reminded Orlando of England. Of smoky pubs with bitter ale, of verdant fields and winding stretches of road, of match days and cheering his team on with his mates in the fuck-off cold, of misty rain and tiny alleyways and buildings with history and the toxic experiment that was the Thames.
And Sean, in all of his thick Northern glory, was England, as far as Orlando was concerned.
He stepped out onto the patio and flipped his phone open, wide smile already in place. "You've reached Orlando Bloom's voicemail, how may I direct your call?"
The low, smoky voice on the other end chuckled. "Orlando himself too busy to talk to an old friend?"
"Well, you know how he is. Big important movie star and all. He's too busy chasing starlets and trashing hotel rooms to hang with his old mates."
"I see. Which starlets?"
"Oh no, no favors. You'll just have to read 'Life & Style' like everyone else," Orlando laughed, and fished a cigarette out of his coat pocket. His host had a strict non-smoking policy at his parties, but fuck it. Orlando started talking to Sean and immediately wanted a smoke.
"Fair enough," Sean replied in a genial tone. "Where are you, anyway?"
"Oh, a friend's. He's celebrating taking over the free world or it's a wrap party or he's introducing his new girlfriend or...hell, I don't know why he's throwing it."
"Why're you there, then?"
"That, luv, is a very good question, and one I was just contemplating when you called."
"Well, then," Sean's voice dropped, deepened, "maybe I could rescue you from that. If you've a mind."
Orlando squeezed on his cock to ease a bit of the pressure. Every. Single. Time. Didn't matter where Orlando was or what he was doing, if Sean pulled that voice trick on him, he always got rock hard. Bloody inconvenient at times. "So, you're just ordering me up like room service, is that it?" he joked, even though his voice was far too breathless for his liking.
There was a slight pause on the other end, and Orlando took a long, cleansing drag of his cigarette while he waited. "Well, I wouldn'ta put it quite like that," Sean finally said, in that same rough, low voice that screamed of danger and sticky sex, "but yeah. Maybe I am."
"Bugger off. I'm not your bloody personal whore." Although there'd been a few people on both the 'Rings' and 'Troy' sets that would beg to differ, not that Orlando paid any attention. Well, much attention.
"That's hardly fair."
Orlando turned away from the view, stared through the sliding glass door at the party, the milling crowds of girls in skinny jeans, jewel-tone chemise tops and razor-straight hair, and men with open-collared shirts, million-dollar smiles and fake tans. Some days, he wondered if there was anything real in this town. "How's that?" he asked, focusing on Sean's voice.
"Never called you a whore, did I?"
"Well, no, but -"
"Come over, then. I'll even tip you."
Orlando raised an eyebrow, even though he knew Sean couldn't see him. "Tip me?"
"Well, if you are room service..." Sean trailed off meaningfully, and Orlando couldn't help the laugh.
"Selfish bastard, I knew this was all about you."
"Don't be thick, I was only teasing. 'Sides, 't'int like you don't want it."
Which was neither here nor there, and they both knew it. "Maybe I'm waiting for you to ask nice," Orlando said, and ground out the cigarette butt before putting it in his pocket. No evidence, no crime.
"And maybe if I'd wanted nice, I'd've sent you flowers and chocolates." When Sean spoke again, his voice was a slithering, dangerous growl that sent heat spiking along Orlando's spine. "Do I need to woo you like some bird to get hard, bangin' sex?"
Really, how was Orlando supposed to react when Sean started cheating like that? "You best be naked and still hard when I get there."
"That's my boy."
***
Orlando barely made it in the door.
There was no 'hi, how are you, missed you, let's catch up'...no words at all, when it came right down to it. Orlando knocked politely, then had just enough time to shove his hands in his coat pockets before the door opened and Sean yanked him inside. Orlando stumbled, a half-assed joke on his lips about Sean not being able to wait, but then Sean's mouth was on his, tongue pushing past his teeth, and the words were forgotten in a sharp, brutal haze of heat.
Sean slammed him against the door, and he winced when his head bounced against unforgiving wood, but it didn't stop him from pushing back. From tugging up on the thin fabric of Sean's t-shirt and returning the kiss with everything in him. Teeth clanked, tongues tangled, and Orlando could taste the sour bite of lemons in Sean's kiss.
Then Sean tugged at the rubber band holding Orlando's hair back from his face and grabbed a handful, yanking Orlando's head back to scrape a stubbled kiss along his throat. Orlando's moan was part wild animal, part human greed, and he gave up trying to get Sean's shirt off in favor of popping the button's of Sean's jeans and shoving them down muscled legs. He didn't much care about naked at this point - he just wanted Sean's cock.
Sean let out a low groan when Orlando wrapped long fingers around him, started to tug with a hard, practiced slide. "Fuck..."
"I certainly hope so," Orlando laughed, and nipped at Sean's ear. "Tell me you've got something close by."
Sean pointed at the end table by the door, and Orlando grinned when he saw the bottle of 'Wet'. "Told you what I wanted, didn't I?" Sean growled.
It wasn’t really a question.
Orlando shrugged out of his coat and unzipped his jeans as Sean snagged the bottle and tossed his shirt off in a careless sweep.
They went crashing onto the carpet in a pile of limbs, lips fused together as Orlando tried to crawl inside Sean's body and Sean cupped Orlando's ass. Cocks slid together in rough friction - Christ, Sean was bloody good at frottage - and Orlando sucked hard on Sean's tongue to disguise the whimper. His shirt was matted to his chest, felt heavy, cumbersome on heated skin, but it was too much effort to remove it.
Removing it would mean moving from Sean.
Sean finally gained the upper hand and rolled Orlando onto his back, using muscle and mass to keep him pinned. "You gonna fuck me or we just gonna snog messy-like all night like a couple of girls?" Orlando asked, arching against the hold, wanting more.
Sean's answering smirk was the sexiest thing Orlando'd ever seen. He let go of one of Orlando's hands to grab the bottle. "Just begging for it, aren't you?"
Orlando finished kicking off his jeans, pulled off his shirt and watched in hungry fascination as Sean coated his cock. He found himself jealous of the lube for getting closer to Sean than he currently was, and the hunger made his voice thick. "Not getting any younger."
"Pushy bastard." Sean hooked his arms under Orlando's knees and yanked him close. "This won't be gentle."
Orlando appreciated the sentiment in the warning, really, he did, but honestly? He didn't care. "You didn't promise gentle," he reminded Sean, then hissed as Sean started to slide inside, cock invading him inch by tortuous inch.
"Always...tight…as buggery," Sean bit out between clenched teeth, and looked down at Orlando, lust turning already brilliant green eyes into a glittering inferno. The next moment, he started moving, hips pumping relentless and fast, driving himself deep inside Orlando's ass.
More...more...c'mon... Orlando kept up a steady chant in his head, even as his back arched off of rough carpet and he tried to match Sean's movements, tried to match each of the brutal thrusts with his own. Felt like Sean was splitting him in two.
Every single time with Sean was better than the last, which was saying something. After however many years of this open, easy relationship, Orlando used to think he'd wake up one day and be immune to Sean's crooked grin, the rough way he said Orlando's name, the way the sex was always different, yet always the same. Used to think that one day he'd be able to say no.
The idea seemed laughable these days.
"Gimme yer tongue," and Orlando obeyed without thought, gripping tight onto Sean's shoulders as their tongues tangled, slid in slick friction. Muscle bunched under his hands as Sean moved, hips pumping with hard, staccato thrusts. Sweat dripped from Sean's forehead onto Orlando's, a fine sheen sticking to the hairs on Sean's chest, onto Orlando's, as Sean drove Orlando into the carpet.
Then Sean pulled back, yanked Orlando's legs further apart and slammed forward, balls slapping against Orlando's ass. "Touch yourself." The command was grunted out with another thrust.
Orlando never could resist that tone... He licked at dry lips, curled a shaking hand around his cock, meeting Sean's eyes as he twisted his fist in time with the flex of Sean's hips. It only took three tugs, white-hot sparks dancing behind his eyes as he came all over his hand and stomach. He was still light-headed and lethargic when Sean stiffened, and collapsed on top of him.
For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were of harsh breathing.
"So, where's my tip, then, yeah?" Orlando finally asked, summoning enough energy to lift his head and give Sean an expectant smirk. He was sticky, sweaty and had rug burn from hell. He felt bloody fantastic.
Sean's laugh was slightly breathless as he dropped his elbows to each side of Orlando's head. "Christ, you're mercenary."
"And you're a cheap bastard," Orlando retorted, and jabbed Sean's chest. "Couldn't wait for me to get my kit off to lay into me, and now no tip."
"I'll give you everything in my wallet if you stay the night. How's that?"
"Fuck off." Orlando stretched under Sean, feeling the twinge in sore, used muscles. "Probably only have a fiver in there."
"If that," Sean replied, and dropped his head for a quick kiss. "But, you are staying?"
"Course I'm bloody staying." What the fuck kind of daft question was that? "Ain't fucked you blind yet, have I?"
Sean just shook his head, and moved his hand, fingers threading through Orlando's hair as he drew him up for a soft kiss. "I love you too, Orlando."
Orlando returned the smile. "Yeah, I know."
***
There wasn't a sexier sound in the world than Sean's voice begging Orlando to fuck him faster, harder, move yer bleedin' arse. And Orlando would cheerfully beat anyone that said different.
"This it?" he asked and twisted his hips, driving himself deeper into Sean's heat.
"Fuck yeah..." Sean clawed at Orlando's shoulders, sweat stinging over red marks and Orlando leaned down, lost himself in the sin that was Sean's kiss.
***
Orlando flopped onto his back with a satisfied moan, chest heaving as he sucked in much-needed oxygen. His limbs felt like rubber. "Fucking brilliant..."
"Haven't lost yer touch," Sean agreed, the words slurred, low.
"Feel like I could eat a horse now, though."
"So order something up." Orlando watched in envious fascination as Sean swung his legs off the bed and stood, stretching his arms to the ceiling. Bastard could at least have the decency to pretend that Orlando'd fucked him too hard to move. But it was hard to be all that put out when watching the play of muscle under gold-hued, gleaming skin. From the blond strands of hair curling behind his ears to the arch of his feet, Sean radiated sex and confidence.
Orlando still dreamed of the day when he would grow up and be like Sean.
"You, uh..." he forced his gaze away from chiseled pecs, "you want anything?"
"They do an alright steak sandwich. Order me up one, and join me in the shower when you're done."
Orlando watched in lustful appreciation as Sean walked into the bathroom. Absolutely world-class arse.
The call to room service was the fastest one Orlando could remember making.
***
"So, what've you been up to, then, besides hanging about at dull parties?"
"Eh, not a lot. Taking some time, reading through a few scripts," Orlando replied, and took a big bite of his salad. They were both naked, still damp from the shower, and cozied together at the small dining table tucked into a corner of the suite. "Bought a house in London, fixing it up," he continued, between crunches.
Sean dropped a bite of steak into his mouth and gave Orlando an interested look. "Yeah?"
"Mmhmm. Not too far off from Belsize Park."
"Cheeky. You stalking me now?"
Orlando leaned over and gave Sean a sticky kiss on the cheek. "Always, love."
Sean's smile was just this side of shy, made the crinkles around his eyes even more pronounced. It was Orlando's favorite smile. "Got anything planned for the big birthday?"
"Yeah, of course." Orlando's eyes lit up. "Party here, then I'm headed out to get in some surfing in Hawaii."
"Sounds like fun."
"You should come with."
"What, to Hawaii?" Sean asked, after swallowing his final bite of sandwich.
"Yeah, c'mon. It'll be great. Sun, surf, plenty of hot sex..." Orlando's brows waggled, the leer friendly. "I'd make it worth your while."
Sean fitted their hands together, fingers sliding comfortably over each other, and Orlando read the apology in the gesture before Sean opened his mouth. "I've got a film to promote, you know that."
"Yeah, well, I don't turn 30 every day," Orlando shrugged, and tried not to be too disappointed. It was as spur of the moment invite, nothing to get upset over.
"I know. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
***
The sun was blinding bright, reflecting off the water in brilliant prisms as Orlando made his way towards the shore, pushing his board in front of him. His muscles were pleasantly tired from exertion. His toes dug deep into the sand, and he unzipped his wetsuit once he was only calf-deep. Good morning, man; the waves had been killer.
He shook his head to get the worst of the excess water out of his hair and ran a hand across his face to clear his eyes. When his vision cleared, it took him a minute to process the person waiting for him.
Sean, in loose linen pants, deck shoes and a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned halfway. Sean, who was offering a crooked, sheepish grin as he cocked his head and shrugged.
"Forgive me?"
The shock only lasted a moment before pure, unadulterated joy took its place. "Fuck me, you came. You're here!" With a loud whoop, Orlando launched himself at Sean, dropping the board on the sand.
Sean caught him easily enough, then went stumbling backwards as Orlando wrapped his legs around Sean's hips and gave him a loud, wet kiss.
"Christ, you weigh a bleedin' ton," Sean grumbled, but Orlando noticed Sean wasn't letting go of his grip on Orlando's ass.
"Oh, stuff it, you love me," he grinned, certain it had to rival the sun for brilliance. Sean, the sneaky bugger, was here.
"I must. Here, an't I?" Orlando hummed happily into the kiss, parting Sean's lips with a flicker of his tongue. "So, when do I get this sex you were goin' on about?" Sean asked, when he lifted his head.
"Soon as we get back to my room."
"Now we're talking." He set Orlando on his feet and the kiss was firm, full of need and heat. Orlando was rock hard by the time they pulled apart. "Oh, and Orlando?"
"Yeah?"
"Happy birthday."
***