Improv Fic: "Morning" 3/5? (LOTR-RPS HS/OB)
Woohoo! On time & everything. Again, this didn't turn out *quite* the way I expected, but I'm beginning to think that these two are just like that.
Title: “Morning” 3/5?
Series: “Dance” Universe, set after the “Spin” drabble.
Author: Brenda
Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Orlando Bloom
Rating: PG
Summary: Orli has to tell Harry something.
Website: The Rolling Smut Factory
http://lionessandviper.com/rpsindex.html
Feedback: Of course.
Disclaimer: Hell, I don’t know if they’ve even met.
Notes: Improv fic--45 minutes time limit. Sound, this time. Zarah’s trying to kill me. *nods* Written in 28 minutes, tinkered with for 10.
“Heaven smiles above me
What a gift here below”
--Queens of the Stone Age
“On second thought, breakfast can wait.”
“Huh?” Harry was zapped out of his pleasant haze of sleepy...lust?...want?...still too early to define his emotions...when Orli tugged on his hand after setting his plate in the microwave--“to keep it warm”--and led him outside.
“I want you to do something for me,” Orli said, smile shimmerbright in the early morning sunlight.
“Alright.”
“Close your eyes.”
Harry looked at Orli’s smile for another minute, looked *into* Orli’s smile, and closed his eyes a second later. Immediately, the sounds of early morning birds in the rustling trees assaulted his ears, each call distinctive--some plaintive, some cheerful. Harry wasn’t much of a bird person--they tended to be early morning people--but this was nice. Smelled the azaleas that he knew grew in wild disarray in his backyard. One day he’d prune them; or so he kept telling himself. Felt the damp ground between his bare toes, the cool breeze brush over his bare chest. “Is this some kind of Viggo communing with nature thing?” he asked, grinning, eyes still shut.
Orli’s laughter was bright and clean, cut through the other sounds like they weren’t even there. And maybe they weren’t. “Not quite.” Harry stumbled when Orli pulled him down, but settled comfortably on the lounge chair across Orli’s prone body. “Just because I look up to him doesn’t mean I really want to *be* him,” Orli continued, still sounding richly amused. His voice was such a pleasant thing, just as nice as the rest of him. Harry thought it was a pity that most people, himself included, were so distracted by the stunning looks that the voice got the shrift.
“So why’re we here, then?” Harry asked, even though he didn’t really care. He was content to lie here, sprawled across Orli, listening to the steady rhythm--‘tha-thumptha-thump’--of Orli’s heartbeat, listen to the steady sound of Orli’s breath as it tickled the top of his ear.
“Because I want to tell you something.” Lilting voice, each word carefully measured, studied. Completely unlike Orli when he was excited. Then his words were rushed, full of ‘um’s and ‘y’know’s and ‘really’s, voice slightly higher. Both sounds were equally interesting, in their own way. When Orli was excited, he vibrated, he radiated. When he was thinking, when he was still, he seduced, he invited, he intimated.
“What was it?” Harry became aware that his own breathing now matched Orli’s, and their heartbeats were almost in sync. The sound of the wind, the shrill of the neighbor’s phone ringing, the sound of a child’s laughter, all seemed very far away. Muted. Only Orli’s voice, his heartbeat, the warmth of him seeping into Harry, were real.
“You remember that one time we talked about the guy I was interested in, but didn’t know how to tell him what he meant to me? Because words seemed inadequate?” Each word rumbled delightfully in Orli’s chest, and Harry pressed his ear deeper to capture the reverb. Wanted the echo, wanted to know what the purr was saying to him.
“Yeah.”
Orli took a deep breath, the sound harsh, full of nervous energy. “I’m ready to tell you now.”
Harry smiled, turned his head slightly to kiss the hollow of Orli’s throat, just peeking above his t-shirt collar. “I think I know already,” he answered, lifting his head, eyes fluttering open. He smiled down at Orli, smiled into fathomless eyes and a shy smile.
tbc...
Title: “Morning” 3/5?
Series: “Dance” Universe, set after the “Spin” drabble.
Author: Brenda
Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Orlando Bloom
Rating: PG
Summary: Orli has to tell Harry something.
Website: The Rolling Smut Factory
http://lionessandviper.com/rpsindex.html
Feedback: Of course.
Disclaimer: Hell, I don’t know if they’ve even met.
Notes: Improv fic--45 minutes time limit. Sound, this time. Zarah’s trying to kill me. *nods* Written in 28 minutes, tinkered with for 10.
“Heaven smiles above me
What a gift here below”
--Queens of the Stone Age
“On second thought, breakfast can wait.”
“Huh?” Harry was zapped out of his pleasant haze of sleepy...lust?...want?...still too early to define his emotions...when Orli tugged on his hand after setting his plate in the microwave--“to keep it warm”--and led him outside.
“I want you to do something for me,” Orli said, smile shimmerbright in the early morning sunlight.
“Alright.”
“Close your eyes.”
Harry looked at Orli’s smile for another minute, looked *into* Orli’s smile, and closed his eyes a second later. Immediately, the sounds of early morning birds in the rustling trees assaulted his ears, each call distinctive--some plaintive, some cheerful. Harry wasn’t much of a bird person--they tended to be early morning people--but this was nice. Smelled the azaleas that he knew grew in wild disarray in his backyard. One day he’d prune them; or so he kept telling himself. Felt the damp ground between his bare toes, the cool breeze brush over his bare chest. “Is this some kind of Viggo communing with nature thing?” he asked, grinning, eyes still shut.
Orli’s laughter was bright and clean, cut through the other sounds like they weren’t even there. And maybe they weren’t. “Not quite.” Harry stumbled when Orli pulled him down, but settled comfortably on the lounge chair across Orli’s prone body. “Just because I look up to him doesn’t mean I really want to *be* him,” Orli continued, still sounding richly amused. His voice was such a pleasant thing, just as nice as the rest of him. Harry thought it was a pity that most people, himself included, were so distracted by the stunning looks that the voice got the shrift.
“So why’re we here, then?” Harry asked, even though he didn’t really care. He was content to lie here, sprawled across Orli, listening to the steady rhythm--‘tha-thumptha-thump’--of Orli’s heartbeat, listen to the steady sound of Orli’s breath as it tickled the top of his ear.
“Because I want to tell you something.” Lilting voice, each word carefully measured, studied. Completely unlike Orli when he was excited. Then his words were rushed, full of ‘um’s and ‘y’know’s and ‘really’s, voice slightly higher. Both sounds were equally interesting, in their own way. When Orli was excited, he vibrated, he radiated. When he was thinking, when he was still, he seduced, he invited, he intimated.
“What was it?” Harry became aware that his own breathing now matched Orli’s, and their heartbeats were almost in sync. The sound of the wind, the shrill of the neighbor’s phone ringing, the sound of a child’s laughter, all seemed very far away. Muted. Only Orli’s voice, his heartbeat, the warmth of him seeping into Harry, were real.
“You remember that one time we talked about the guy I was interested in, but didn’t know how to tell him what he meant to me? Because words seemed inadequate?” Each word rumbled delightfully in Orli’s chest, and Harry pressed his ear deeper to capture the reverb. Wanted the echo, wanted to know what the purr was saying to him.
“Yeah.”
Orli took a deep breath, the sound harsh, full of nervous energy. “I’m ready to tell you now.”
Harry smiled, turned his head slightly to kiss the hollow of Orli’s throat, just peeking above his t-shirt collar. “I think I know already,” he answered, lifting his head, eyes fluttering open. He smiled down at Orli, smiled into fathomless eyes and a shy smile.
tbc...