(no subject)
Title: Mostly Shameless (3/?)
Author: Captain Daisyshine (HaveYouSeenBean@yahoo.com)
Pairing: OrliBean
Rating: NC-17
Series: Sequel to “Up Against the Wall” and “Sex, Orlando, and Everything.” In that order. Unless you invoke time-traveling and such. Someone suggest a name for the series, please!
Summary: Hey, I know it’s been a while, but remember Sean’s suggestion at the end of the last fic that maybe the boys needed a shower? Well, no plot here, just that long-awaited shower. Because I *heart* shower!fic in a big way. Mmm, PWP.
Warnings: Er, mind the gap?
Disclaimer: I made it all up. I think. There may actually be a parallel universe or alternate reality or something where ’Landy and Beanie are shagging each other’s brains out, but, to the best of my knowledge, they are not doing so in this galaxy/dimension. The author means no disrespect.
Archive: Green Opals. Anyone else want it? Pick up the phone, you know who to call. Or something.
Feedback: I love it like a fat kid loves cake, like Michael Jackson loves little boys, like Rose loves Jack. Feedback is like liquid crack. On a stick. While you’re working that one out, drop me a line, pretty please.
Notes: God, I haven’t written in ages. Pardon moi.
Dedication: Razzie, my bestest gal; moblo413, Bunny Feeder and beta extraordinaire; my dirty sidekick; Captain Nibbles; Cap’n Sami-Jack; laura_iskra; pureanimal; jenmstar; fairyspell; darknight999; ariadni; and all of my other OrliBean ladies & gents.
“Mmnee mmfphud mpfhrrr.”
“Mmphfr?”
“Impf mphu mngud mfet mmph nf mphee...”
“Sean, what in fuck’s name are you going on about?” Orlando inquires.
I shove him off of me. “I said, we should shower.”
He raises an eyebrow, interested. “Oh? Should we now?”
“Well, yes,” I reply. “See, since we started having sex, oh, twelve hours ago... I’ve wanted to fuck you up against the shower wall.”
He chokes on his breath, and it’s a few seconds before he can reply. “Yeah?”
“‘Yeah.’”
We are quiet for a bit.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Orli asks impatiently, bounding off the bed and scampering into the bathroom. I grin and, shrugging out of the bed sheet that has wrapped itself around my thighs, follow him, albeit less enthusiastically, since I’m sore as fuck. Er, bad comparison, but you know what I mean.
Oh, shit.
The shower is fucking huge. Fully equipped. Shiny.
Orlando turns and flashes a brilliant, evil grin. “Come on, old man,” he teases. I can feel the playful snarl tugging at my lip. He wants to play that, fine. I may have only discovered my homosexual tendencies, oh, last night or so, but I catch on quick. Ish. When all of the blood in my body hasn’t rushed to my dick. Which it’s threatening to do, since Orlando has chosen this moment to begin, ah, displaying his wares, as it were.
“Wanker,” I growl good-naturedly as he turns the shower on while fondling himself idly. I still his hand and begin tracing a path down the muscles of his chest, stopping along the way to toy with his dark nipples. His mouth falls open, and his breathing becomes shallower. Good. ‘S what he deserves for teasing me, the little bastard.
“Seaaaannnn,” he whines, glaring balefully at me. I feign innocence. He steps into the shower and pulls me in beside him roughly. I nearly trip and send us both sprawling but manage to catch myself at the last moment.
The water quickly dishevels his perfect mop of curls, and, good Lord, he looks so debauched, so fucking... wet. I blink. My brain seems to ’ve gone on holiday, so now’s the time for me to start molesting him in earnest. I drop to my knees in front of him. He studiedly avoids my eyes as I gaze up at him hungrily. I smirk.
“Fuck!” he swears as I practically inhale his cock, and his controlled breathing rapidly turns ragged as I make an “O” with my thumb and index finger ‘round his dick just above the “O” of my mouth. Having a penis myself, I know how to give a good blow job. The ease with which it comes to me (ha, ha, what an awful pun) is less surprising than it ought to be. How long have I been a closet queer?
Orli gurgles above me, and I know he’s getting close. The spray of the shower hits the top of my head comfortingly. I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks. He positively wails, while all I can think is, “Mmmmm, Elven BlowPop”, even as I find myself growing hard.
“Sean, I’m gonna-“ he attempts to warn me. I reach around and grab his ass, slamming him forward into my mouth and he keens noisily as he comes, panting my name.
I stand, slightly sorer for my efforts. Fuck, but it’s worth it to hear my name pour forth from those delectable lips. Glad I stopped being latently gay and started being blatantly gay. Ah, so nice that I’m coming (hah) to terms with it.
“’Lando?” I inquire.
“Mmmm,” he replies, grinning like the cat that’s eaten not only the canary but also the parakeet, a bluejay, and three or four sparrows.
Gently, I twirl him around so he’s leaning on his arm against the shower wall. One glance down at that hot ass and my brain can do nothing but conjure images of fucking him into next Thursday. But not next Thursday, because Thursday is a terrible day, and everyone knows nothing good ever happened on a Thursday. Next Friday, then, so not only will I be shooting my brains out through my dick, but we’ll have missed Thursday. Fuck, I’m a genius.
I smirk, revelling in my own brilliance momentarily before returning to the task at hand. I can’t believe I’ve got such a beautiful creature all to myself. I lean forward to whisper dirty things in his ear while groping aimlessly for some sort of shower gel on the shelf behind me. He shivers against my chest, a delicious sensation, and I curl my fingers around my prize.
“Got it,” I rasp. “God, Orli, I’m going to fuck you until you feel it in your throat,” I purr, and he groans, pushing his hips back toward me. Flipping the cap of the gel open one-handed (bravo!), I squirt some onto the fingers of the other hand. Then, one hand braced on Orli’s hip, I begin curling my fingers into him one by one as he swears unintelligibly under his breath.
The shower is hitting my collarbone, a fine, massaging spray.
“Pl- please,” Orlando whispers shakily, as if I could deny him anything. Reluctantly (but not too reluctantly), my fingers pull out and I begin coating my cock with a thin sheen of the shower gel. Lips pressed close to Orli’s ear once more, I growl, “Ready?” He nods furiously, and I can feel him shaking.
Bracing myself with a hand on each of his hips, I push in as slowly as humanly possible. He cries out brokenly when I brush the mound inside him.
“Hard, Sean, hard, hard, Sean,” he repeats, a litany of pleading. As an obliging fellow, what else can I do?
I fuck him hard. My breath catches; he’s still unbelievably tight, even after last night. Slamming into him over and over and over until long after my brain has melted to nuclear waste, I fuck him while he begs, needing to hear my name. And then my orgasm is fast approaching and I reach around to grab his cock, which is rallying bravely, and I coax it to stand at attention as I pound into him from behind. Our screams begin to merge.
“Come for me,” I moan, shocked at my own coherence.
He draws a harsh breath, simultaneously pushing his hips forward into the circle of my fingers, and comes, screaming hoarsely, and his body squeezes it out of me; I come, too, groaning his name.
We collapse slowly onto the floor of the shower, letting the water wash away bodily fluids.
For several minutes, we are too weak even for joking, but Orli seems to recover first. He smiles a wicked smile.
“Remind me to get you dirty more often.”
Author: Captain Daisyshine (HaveYouSeenBean@yahoo.com)
Pairing: OrliBean
Rating: NC-17
Series: Sequel to “Up Against the Wall” and “Sex, Orlando, and Everything.” In that order. Unless you invoke time-traveling and such. Someone suggest a name for the series, please!
Summary: Hey, I know it’s been a while, but remember Sean’s suggestion at the end of the last fic that maybe the boys needed a shower? Well, no plot here, just that long-awaited shower. Because I *heart* shower!fic in a big way. Mmm, PWP.
Warnings: Er, mind the gap?
Disclaimer: I made it all up. I think. There may actually be a parallel universe or alternate reality or something where ’Landy and Beanie are shagging each other’s brains out, but, to the best of my knowledge, they are not doing so in this galaxy/dimension. The author means no disrespect.
Archive: Green Opals. Anyone else want it? Pick up the phone, you know who to call. Or something.
Feedback: I love it like a fat kid loves cake, like Michael Jackson loves little boys, like Rose loves Jack. Feedback is like liquid crack. On a stick. While you’re working that one out, drop me a line, pretty please.
Notes: God, I haven’t written in ages. Pardon moi.
Dedication: Razzie, my bestest gal; moblo413, Bunny Feeder and beta extraordinaire; my dirty sidekick; Captain Nibbles; Cap’n Sami-Jack; laura_iskra; pureanimal; jenmstar; fairyspell; darknight999; ariadni; and all of my other OrliBean ladies & gents.
“Mmnee mmfphud mpfhrrr.”
“Mmphfr?”
“Impf mphu mngud mfet mmph nf mphee...”
“Sean, what in fuck’s name are you going on about?” Orlando inquires.
I shove him off of me. “I said, we should shower.”
He raises an eyebrow, interested. “Oh? Should we now?”
“Well, yes,” I reply. “See, since we started having sex, oh, twelve hours ago... I’ve wanted to fuck you up against the shower wall.”
He chokes on his breath, and it’s a few seconds before he can reply. “Yeah?”
“‘Yeah.’”
We are quiet for a bit.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Orli asks impatiently, bounding off the bed and scampering into the bathroom. I grin and, shrugging out of the bed sheet that has wrapped itself around my thighs, follow him, albeit less enthusiastically, since I’m sore as fuck. Er, bad comparison, but you know what I mean.
Oh, shit.
The shower is fucking huge. Fully equipped. Shiny.
Orlando turns and flashes a brilliant, evil grin. “Come on, old man,” he teases. I can feel the playful snarl tugging at my lip. He wants to play that, fine. I may have only discovered my homosexual tendencies, oh, last night or so, but I catch on quick. Ish. When all of the blood in my body hasn’t rushed to my dick. Which it’s threatening to do, since Orlando has chosen this moment to begin, ah, displaying his wares, as it were.
“Wanker,” I growl good-naturedly as he turns the shower on while fondling himself idly. I still his hand and begin tracing a path down the muscles of his chest, stopping along the way to toy with his dark nipples. His mouth falls open, and his breathing becomes shallower. Good. ‘S what he deserves for teasing me, the little bastard.
“Seaaaannnn,” he whines, glaring balefully at me. I feign innocence. He steps into the shower and pulls me in beside him roughly. I nearly trip and send us both sprawling but manage to catch myself at the last moment.
The water quickly dishevels his perfect mop of curls, and, good Lord, he looks so debauched, so fucking... wet. I blink. My brain seems to ’ve gone on holiday, so now’s the time for me to start molesting him in earnest. I drop to my knees in front of him. He studiedly avoids my eyes as I gaze up at him hungrily. I smirk.
“Fuck!” he swears as I practically inhale his cock, and his controlled breathing rapidly turns ragged as I make an “O” with my thumb and index finger ‘round his dick just above the “O” of my mouth. Having a penis myself, I know how to give a good blow job. The ease with which it comes to me (ha, ha, what an awful pun) is less surprising than it ought to be. How long have I been a closet queer?
Orli gurgles above me, and I know he’s getting close. The spray of the shower hits the top of my head comfortingly. I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks. He positively wails, while all I can think is, “Mmmmm, Elven BlowPop”, even as I find myself growing hard.
“Sean, I’m gonna-“ he attempts to warn me. I reach around and grab his ass, slamming him forward into my mouth and he keens noisily as he comes, panting my name.
I stand, slightly sorer for my efforts. Fuck, but it’s worth it to hear my name pour forth from those delectable lips. Glad I stopped being latently gay and started being blatantly gay. Ah, so nice that I’m coming (hah) to terms with it.
“’Lando?” I inquire.
“Mmmm,” he replies, grinning like the cat that’s eaten not only the canary but also the parakeet, a bluejay, and three or four sparrows.
Gently, I twirl him around so he’s leaning on his arm against the shower wall. One glance down at that hot ass and my brain can do nothing but conjure images of fucking him into next Thursday. But not next Thursday, because Thursday is a terrible day, and everyone knows nothing good ever happened on a Thursday. Next Friday, then, so not only will I be shooting my brains out through my dick, but we’ll have missed Thursday. Fuck, I’m a genius.
I smirk, revelling in my own brilliance momentarily before returning to the task at hand. I can’t believe I’ve got such a beautiful creature all to myself. I lean forward to whisper dirty things in his ear while groping aimlessly for some sort of shower gel on the shelf behind me. He shivers against my chest, a delicious sensation, and I curl my fingers around my prize.
“Got it,” I rasp. “God, Orli, I’m going to fuck you until you feel it in your throat,” I purr, and he groans, pushing his hips back toward me. Flipping the cap of the gel open one-handed (bravo!), I squirt some onto the fingers of the other hand. Then, one hand braced on Orli’s hip, I begin curling my fingers into him one by one as he swears unintelligibly under his breath.
The shower is hitting my collarbone, a fine, massaging spray.
“Pl- please,” Orlando whispers shakily, as if I could deny him anything. Reluctantly (but not too reluctantly), my fingers pull out and I begin coating my cock with a thin sheen of the shower gel. Lips pressed close to Orli’s ear once more, I growl, “Ready?” He nods furiously, and I can feel him shaking.
Bracing myself with a hand on each of his hips, I push in as slowly as humanly possible. He cries out brokenly when I brush the mound inside him.
“Hard, Sean, hard, hard, Sean,” he repeats, a litany of pleading. As an obliging fellow, what else can I do?
I fuck him hard. My breath catches; he’s still unbelievably tight, even after last night. Slamming into him over and over and over until long after my brain has melted to nuclear waste, I fuck him while he begs, needing to hear my name. And then my orgasm is fast approaching and I reach around to grab his cock, which is rallying bravely, and I coax it to stand at attention as I pound into him from behind. Our screams begin to merge.
“Come for me,” I moan, shocked at my own coherence.
He draws a harsh breath, simultaneously pushing his hips forward into the circle of my fingers, and comes, screaming hoarsely, and his body squeezes it out of me; I come, too, groaning his name.
We collapse slowly onto the floor of the shower, letting the water wash away bodily fluids.
For several minutes, we are too weak even for joking, but Orli seems to recover first. He smiles a wicked smile.
“Remind me to get you dirty more often.”