Comment!fic: PG-NC17; multiple RPS; het & slash
Rating: PG-NC-17
Fandoms: Black Hawk Down RPS, CW RPS, Kane RPS, Leverage RPS, Lotrips, No Rules, Haven/Star Trek RPF
Pairings: Josh/Ewan, Josh/Eric, Christian/Steve, JDM/Misha, Christian/Aldis, Orlando/Bean, Karl/Orlando, Karl/Bean, Karl/Harry/Orlando, Josh/Joaquin, Zoe/Karl/Orlando
Disclaimer: 100% fiction, folks. None of this is real; none of this ever happened. I make no claims as to the real life of any person portrayed herein. Recognizable characters are property of their respective owners. I'm just playing with them for a while.
Notes: All written as part of comment_fic.
Black Hawk Down RPS
for azewewish
Josh Hartnett/Ewan McGregor, parched
When Ewan looked at him like that, Josh's mouth went dry. His throat closed up, tight and raspy, and he felt light-headed. It wasn't hard to know exactly what Ewan was thinking, not with that devilish light dancing in his eyes and his mouth curled tight in that tiny grin.
Josh always tried to ignore it, though. No need to give the others even more gossip fodder. It wasn't easy, though, not with the way Ewan would deliberately start to brush against him each time he passed. Though Josh had to admit that the brushing was easier to ignore than the surreptitious groping that Ewan would start to sneak in, flashing unrepentant grins every time Josh jumped.
Each time was different, and Ewan always tried something new. But it always started the same way, with Ewan looking at him.
It always ended the same way, too. With Ewan yanking him around a corner and slamming him against the nearest wall before yanking Josh's head down for a blistering kiss that went on forever, until Josh couldn't breathe, couldn't think past the addiction of Ewan's taste.
for azewewish
Josh Hartnett/Eric Bana, furtive
"Why do you keep sneaking around?"
It's a question Josh has heard over and over, in so many variations he's lost count, and he just smiles when he hears it again from Orlando. No use telling the rest of the guys that there's nothing sneaky about it. They won't believe him.
So he just smiles and shrugs and goes on about the day.
It's funnier when they catch Eric. He makes up outrageous stories, telling them with a perfectly straight face, that leaves them even more suspicious than before.
But it's not like they're sneaking around. No, not at all. In fact, Josh thinks they've been pretty open about the whole thing, because it's not like they were exactly quiet that one afternoon in his trailer. Or the time in the men's room at that one bar. Hell, Tom had practically walked in on them.
Of course, they hadn't been waving it in their faces, either. Stealing a few minutes here, trading swift, heated kisses there, tip-toeing down hallways at night to avoid waking the others...it was simply being courteous.
Nothing sneaky about it. At all.
CW RPS
for echoing_dream
Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Misha Collins, Misha's first high
When Jeff walks in, Misha is curled up on the floor in front of the sofa. His hysterical laughter is so loud that Jeff heard him the second he got out of his car. The next thing his brain registers is the heavy, sweet smell that permeates the room. His eyes flick to Jensen, who's sprawled in the chair, watching Misha with an indulgent grin.
"Is he...?"
"Oh, yeah," Jensen says. He pushes out of his chair and claps Jeff on the back. "Higher than a kite, man, and he's all yours for the night."
"But..." Jeff doesn't even time to form an objection, let alone speak it, before Jensen is through the door and out of sight. So Jeff looks back at Misha, who's crying now he's laughing so hard. "The hell am I going to do with you?"
"Take me to bed and have your wicked way with me," Misha manages to say through gales of laughter.
Jeff blinks. Wicked way? "You sound like a bad Harlequin novel," he says, unable to keep from grinning.
"We were reading one," Misha admits, subsiding into hiccupping giggles, but he stays on the floor, looking up at Jeff with wet eyes. "Jensen had one of Danneel's in the car. That's some funny fucking shit, man."
"And now you want me to treat you like the damsel in distress?" Jeff asks, finally seeing the humor in all this. Especially with the way Misha keeps giggling.
"Hell, no," Misha says, rolling to his back and sprawling out. His t-shirt rides up to expose his stomach, and Jeff can see the very obvious erection tenting his jeans. "I want you to treat me like the dirty little whore I am."
Uh huh. Jeff tilts his head, studies Misha. "You never been stoned before, have you?"
Misha winks. "What'll you do if I say yes?"
"Give you what you want," Jeff says, willing to play along.
"And if I say no?"
"In that case," Jeff drawls, "I'd have to punish you for lying."
"Well, then," Misha says, clearly struggling to keep a straight face, "I guess I should tell you that I've been stoned lots of times before." He ruins the effect by giggling when Jeff hauls him from the floor and drags him towards the bedroom.
Kane RPS
for merry_gentry
Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, after the party
The last of the stragglers leave, and Christian locks the door behind them. He leans against it, looking around the room. Empty beer bottles, cups, plates, a variety of trash strewn everywhere, and he just doesn't have the energy to deal with it tonight.
Fuck it, it'll still be there in the morning.
He stumbles towards his room, wanting a flat surface and a soft pillow, but the door to Steve's bedroom is open. His fist is up to knock on the doorframe, see if Steve's awake, when Christian's eyes adjust to the darkness.
Seems like not all the stragglers made it out.
He stands there, in the shadow, and watches as Steve fucks the nameless brunette. There's just enough light that he can see big tits and long legs and the curve of Steve's back as he pumps away between her thighs. And the sounds carry all too well -- the wet glide of body parts moving together, the husky murmurs and sloppy kisses, the low moans that spill from the girl's lips as she claws at Steve's back.
It shouldn't be as hot as it is because Steve is one of his best friends.
Still, though, Christian finds himself taking a step back, deeper into the shadows, and unfastening his jeans. He closes his teeth over the knuckles of his free hand, the other busy stroking his cock as he watches. His fist moves in a blur; his eyes are focused on Steve.
They come together, and Christian has to lean against the wall, muscles trembling, breathing hoarse and heavy against his palm. And all he can do is wonder what it would feel like to be that girl.
Leverage RPS
for bwhouwant2b
Christian Kane/Aldis Hodge, faith
Christian's voice is low, hoarse, his words a steady stream tumbling from his lips.
Aldis closes his eyes for a moment, soaks in those words as Christian speaks to God, Mary, and all the angels. Then his eyes open and he looks down. The first thing he sees is contrast. His hands, rich chocolate, against Christian's paler, cream skin. The next thing is his cock, hard and glistening and much darker than his hands, disappearing inside Christian's tight ass, white skin marked with purpled bruises the exact shape of Aldis' hands.
Each thrust sends him a little closer to the edge, earns another hoarsely whispered prayer from Christian. A heavy rolling twist of his hips has Christian arching, shoving back, a louder "Oh, God, fuck!" torn from his throat.
Aldis has never been sure if he really believes in God or religion or any of it, no matter how his mama had tried to force into him when he was younger. Now, though, he wonders. Wonders if perhaps this is it, this closeness between two people, this moment right here when he hovers on the edge and Christian tightens around him, spilling over clean sheets with a sharp gasp.
Aldis has never truly believed, but he thinks he might know the way to Heaven.
Lotrips
for galor5
Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom, a walk in the park
"Taking Sidi out," Orlando said, wrapping the leash around his fingers. "Come with?"
Sean rattled his paper and didn't bother to look up. "Not just now, lad. I've some things to do."
"Oh." For a moment, Orlando just stood there. Then his shoulders slumped just the tiniest bit and he turned to go. "Alright then. I'll be back later."
"Have fun."
The door closed quietly behind Orlando, and silence descended over the house. A few minutes later, Sean lifted his head, peered over the top of his glasses. "Bloody hell," he muttered, folding the paper and tossing it aside. "Sean, yer an idiot."
It took him several more minutes to find his shoes and a light jacket. Then he was out of the house, whistling a jaunty tune as he headed down the street. The sun was bright, the air crisp and cool, and soon enough he was passing through a set of wide gates. He wasn't five yards into the park when he heard Sidi's excited barking. It was easy enough to follow the sound.
When he rounded a bend in the path, Orlando's expression was everything Sean could have hoped. "You came," Orlando said, smile wide and bright. He looked almost as excited as Sidi, who bounced around their feet. "But you said..."
"Nothing that couldn't wait," Sean said, and smiled. He caught Orlando's hand. "Too nice of a day to be inside."
"Exactly," Orlando said, and fell into step with Sean, smile still firmly in place.
for afra_schatz
Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom (author's choice), "Two Steps Behind" (Def Leppard)
I'll be there to remind you
That it only takes a minute of your precious time
To turn and I'll be two steps behind
Sean had just finished making the tea when he heard a knock. He was still wiping his hands with a towel when he answered the door. The person on the other side made him drop his jaw in surprise.
"'lo," Orlando said, with a hesitant smile. He looked older, more mature, and Sean didn't think that was necessarily a good thing.
"Orlando..." Remembering his manners, Sean stepped back, opened the door wider. "Come in, lad, come in."
"I, ah, wasn't sure you'd be home."
When Orlando stepped past him, Sean couldn't resist peeking at the car in the drive. It looked as if Orlando's pretty little super model wasn't with him. Then he turned and winced as he took in the mess in the living room. "Wasn't expecting company."
"Sorry," Orlando said, with that little smile again. "Probably should've called."
"No, it's fine." Sean smiled, made a small gesture towards the kitchen. "Tea?"
"No," Orlando said, then stopped and licked his lips. "No, thank you. I, um...Sean, do you remember what you said right before you left?"
Sean didn't need to ask 'left where'; he already knew. And he remembered every second of that good-bye as if it had just happened. But he just stood there, head cocked, and watched Orlando.
The silence stretched out, then Orlando exhaled slowly. "Did you mean it?"
The hug had lasted for what felt like an eternity, and Sean was reluctant to let go. Orlando was warm in his arms, face buried in the curve of Sean's neck. "Don't fret," Sean said, finally grasping Orlando's shoulders and holding him at arm's length. "We'll see each other so much you'll be sick of me."
"Won't happen," Orlando said, then moved back in for another hug, eyes bright and glistening.
Sean just held him for another moment, one hand cradling the back of Orlando's skull. Then he pressed a light kiss to Orlando's temple and whispered, "When you're ready, lad.
Sean carefully considered his next words. When Orlando shifted, Sean smiled. Some things never changed. "Have you ever known me to say something I didn't mean?"
"I...no." Orlando shook his head, chewed on his bottom lip. "I, um, I'm ready."
With the way Orlando was still fidgeting, Sean didn't believe him. So he remained silent and didn't move. Orlando fidgeted some more and then just stopped. Sean blinked.
He was still working his way through his surprise when Orlando's lips found his. "I'm ready," Orlando whispered, and cradled Sean's head with both hands, pressing in for a slow, thorough kiss. When it ended, Sean realized he wasn't the only one affected. Orlando smiled. "Do you still feel the same?"
"'Lando," Sean said, cupping Orlando's jaw with one hand, brushing his thumb over still moist lips, "I've always been here. Just been waiting on you to take a minute and turn around, that's all."
for galor5
Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom, Valentine's Day love letters
Dear Karl,
I love you more than skydiving. Really.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
More than skydiving? How about skydiving in the nude? Because I love you more than that.
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
In the nude? Mate, you're daft. Imagine the windburn on your dangly bits. I still love you, though, even if you're madder than Vigs after a whole pan of his 'special' brownies.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
Ouch, good point. Still though, it's a nice visual, innit? Anyway, I'd love you even if you WERE Vigs. But only if you were bringing the brownies.
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
Even if I was Vigs? That may be the weirdest, kinkiest thing you've ever said to me. Vigs, huh? Anything you feel like sharing? Whatever. I love you thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
You'd like to share, wouldn't you? Kinky little bugger. That much, huh? Well, I love you more than that.
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
More than that isn't possible. I love you the most, and you can't top that.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
Well, I love you more than Dean Winchester loves pie.
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
You've been watching the telly again, haven't you? Silly bastard.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
Maybe. That's still how much I love you, though. ;)
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
In that case (not that we're having a contest, mind), you win.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
What'd I win?
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
ME. NAKED. IN YOUR BED. WITH A WHOLE CASE OF LUBE.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
Hallelujah, I've hit the lottery!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Love, Karl
for azewewish
Karl Urban/Sean Bean, pulse
They'd sparred often enough over the centuries, but there was something different tonight. Something dark, dangerous.
Predatorial.
And Sean smiled, feeding off it. He pressed his advantage, moved in until he could tangle Karl against the ropes. Gloved hands resting on his shoulders, heavy breathing loud in his ear, Sean leaned close.
The beat of Karl's blood, a hard throb just beneath the skin there, and Sean's nostrils flared as he inhaled. Sweat and cinnamon, clove and corruption, and a dark, sharp scent that was all Karl. A whisperfire of pain lanced through Sean's jaws as his fangs elongated. And Karl did nothing to push him back, push him away.
Sean smiled again, dipped his head until razor sharp points grazed sweat-slicked skin, and whispered, "You lose."
for galor5
Karl Urban/Harry Sinclair/Orlando Bloom, I double dog dare you
"Go on, do it."
Orlando's head whipped around at the hissed words, and he glared at Karl. "Are you daft?"
"Dare you," Karl grinned, leaning back against the bar, eyes dancing with evil glee.
"Piss off," Orlando said, refusing to look at Harry again.
"He's a good kisser," Karl said, leaning in to whisper the words in Orlando's ear. "And he loves to watch. Go on, double dare you."
"Piss off," Orlando said again, trying to hide how his body reacted to the idea of Harry watching. His mind, traitorous thing that is was, immediately jumped on the image of Harry doing and not just watching. Fuck.
"Said he wanted to watch you," Karl murmured, dragging his fingers up the back of Orlando's arm, grinning when Orlando jumped. "Told me he wants to know what you look like with a cock up your arse."
"He...what?" Orlando's eyes glazed over and virtually all higher brain functions ceased. The idea, man.
"Told me himself," Karl said, and smirked. "Orlando Bloom, I double dog dare you."
"Oi! That's playing dirty!"
Karl just continued to smirk. Bastard. There was nothing to do but march right over to Harry's table and do it then. With all of their friends watching. Orlando started across the room, and he could hear Karl clapping behind him. Just as soon as he figured out something suitable, he was going to pay Karl back for this.
He stopped at the table, waited until Harry looked up. "Yeah?"
"Hi," Orlando said, and swallowed. Then, without another word, he straddled Harry's lap, grasped Harry's head firmly with both hands, and kissed him. A proper kiss, per Karl's dare. And that kiss obliterated what little bit of brain function Orlando had left. When he lifted his head, it took him several seconds to register the complete silence that had fallen over the group around them.
"Took you long enough," Harry said, voice raspy, breathing heavy, but he smiled, and that smile sent all of Orlando's blood scrambling for his crotch in a mad rush. "Reckon we best collect Karl and go."
"Yeah, Orlando said, and dove back in for another kiss.
No Rules
for azewewish
Joaquin Phoenix/Josh Hartnett, shaving
"Come on." Josh grabbed Joaquin's arm, started to drag him from the living room.
Joaquin was just startled enough that he went along with it. "Wait, what, where are we going?"
"Bathroom," was all Josh said.
"What? Josh? Hello, let go of me," Joaquin said, trying to dig in his heels.
Josh just kept pulling him along. "Nope."
"What the hell?" Joaquin asked as Josh shoved him into the bathroom.
"Sit," Josh said, and picked up a straight razor from the counter.
Keeping a wary eye on it (after all, this was Josh and there was never any telling what he was planning), Joaquin backed away. "What're you planning on doing with that?"
"I've had enough of you looking like a homeless person," Josh said, and pointed to the closed toilet lid. "Sit."
"No. Get away!" Hands flapped, and Joaquin did his best to hold off Josh's advance.
"Sit still, or no sex for you for the next month."
It was enough to make Joaquin pause. He eyed Josh. "You're lying. You can't go that long."
"I won't have to. Got Jake, don't I?"
Joaquin blinked. Fucker had him there. "But..."
"Yes?" Josh just stood there, arms folded across his chest, razor dangling from one hand.
"Oh, fine," Joaquin said, aware he was pouting as he flopped down onto the toilet. "But cut me, and I'm kicking your ass."
Josh rolled his eyes and picked up the shaving cream. "Whatever you say, Joaq."
Crossover RPS
for azewewish
Haven/Star Trek, Zoe Saldana/Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom, finally
Orlando didn't bother to knock. He didn't need to, given how Karl had left him a keycard at the front desk. Humming quietly, Orlando let himself into the room. He took one step into the room and froze.
The tableau on the bed seared itself into his brain, sent all his blood scrambling for his crotch in a mad rush.
Karl, stark naked, flat on his back on tangled sheets. His skin was the palest gold, evidence of the recent time he'd spent in the sun, and his hands framed a slender waist and hips. Dark hair spread on the white pillowcase, and Karl's eyes were slitted, his lips parted in a low groan.
Zoe, just as naked, straddling Karl's hips, steadied by his hands as they urged her on. Her skin was the color of rich cinnamon and flawless, the perfect contrast to Karl's paler beauty. Slender thighs flexed as her head fell back, black hair brushing the small of her back as she rose and fell.
From where he stood, Orlando had a perfect view of Karl's cock, glistening with Zoe's juices, disappearing into her body. He had a perfect view of the way Karl's hand cupped one ass cheek, fingertips indenting porcelain smooth skin, a perfect view of high breasts and taut nipples and even, white teeth as they closed over her bottom lip.
Another step, then another, and the door whisked closed behind him. Zoe looked over her shoulder, flashed him a wicked smile. Karl's eyes opened, found Orlando's, and he said, "About time you showed up."
Without speaking, Zoe pointed to the nightstand and the bottle of lube there. She continued to rock against Karl as Orlando watched, slowly leaning forward until she lay against his broad chest. Karl shifted his leg, blatantly making room for Orlando to join them.
That was all the invitation Orlando needed.
Fandoms: Black Hawk Down RPS, CW RPS, Kane RPS, Leverage RPS, Lotrips, No Rules, Haven/Star Trek RPF
Pairings: Josh/Ewan, Josh/Eric, Christian/Steve, JDM/Misha, Christian/Aldis, Orlando/Bean, Karl/Orlando, Karl/Bean, Karl/Harry/Orlando, Josh/Joaquin, Zoe/Karl/Orlando
Disclaimer: 100% fiction, folks. None of this is real; none of this ever happened. I make no claims as to the real life of any person portrayed herein. Recognizable characters are property of their respective owners. I'm just playing with them for a while.
Notes: All written as part of comment_fic.
Black Hawk Down RPS
for azewewish
Josh Hartnett/Ewan McGregor, parched
When Ewan looked at him like that, Josh's mouth went dry. His throat closed up, tight and raspy, and he felt light-headed. It wasn't hard to know exactly what Ewan was thinking, not with that devilish light dancing in his eyes and his mouth curled tight in that tiny grin.
Josh always tried to ignore it, though. No need to give the others even more gossip fodder. It wasn't easy, though, not with the way Ewan would deliberately start to brush against him each time he passed. Though Josh had to admit that the brushing was easier to ignore than the surreptitious groping that Ewan would start to sneak in, flashing unrepentant grins every time Josh jumped.
Each time was different, and Ewan always tried something new. But it always started the same way, with Ewan looking at him.
It always ended the same way, too. With Ewan yanking him around a corner and slamming him against the nearest wall before yanking Josh's head down for a blistering kiss that went on forever, until Josh couldn't breathe, couldn't think past the addiction of Ewan's taste.
for azewewish
Josh Hartnett/Eric Bana, furtive
"Why do you keep sneaking around?"
It's a question Josh has heard over and over, in so many variations he's lost count, and he just smiles when he hears it again from Orlando. No use telling the rest of the guys that there's nothing sneaky about it. They won't believe him.
So he just smiles and shrugs and goes on about the day.
It's funnier when they catch Eric. He makes up outrageous stories, telling them with a perfectly straight face, that leaves them even more suspicious than before.
But it's not like they're sneaking around. No, not at all. In fact, Josh thinks they've been pretty open about the whole thing, because it's not like they were exactly quiet that one afternoon in his trailer. Or the time in the men's room at that one bar. Hell, Tom had practically walked in on them.
Of course, they hadn't been waving it in their faces, either. Stealing a few minutes here, trading swift, heated kisses there, tip-toeing down hallways at night to avoid waking the others...it was simply being courteous.
Nothing sneaky about it. At all.
CW RPS
for echoing_dream
Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Misha Collins, Misha's first high
When Jeff walks in, Misha is curled up on the floor in front of the sofa. His hysterical laughter is so loud that Jeff heard him the second he got out of his car. The next thing his brain registers is the heavy, sweet smell that permeates the room. His eyes flick to Jensen, who's sprawled in the chair, watching Misha with an indulgent grin.
"Is he...?"
"Oh, yeah," Jensen says. He pushes out of his chair and claps Jeff on the back. "Higher than a kite, man, and he's all yours for the night."
"But..." Jeff doesn't even time to form an objection, let alone speak it, before Jensen is through the door and out of sight. So Jeff looks back at Misha, who's crying now he's laughing so hard. "The hell am I going to do with you?"
"Take me to bed and have your wicked way with me," Misha manages to say through gales of laughter.
Jeff blinks. Wicked way? "You sound like a bad Harlequin novel," he says, unable to keep from grinning.
"We were reading one," Misha admits, subsiding into hiccupping giggles, but he stays on the floor, looking up at Jeff with wet eyes. "Jensen had one of Danneel's in the car. That's some funny fucking shit, man."
"And now you want me to treat you like the damsel in distress?" Jeff asks, finally seeing the humor in all this. Especially with the way Misha keeps giggling.
"Hell, no," Misha says, rolling to his back and sprawling out. His t-shirt rides up to expose his stomach, and Jeff can see the very obvious erection tenting his jeans. "I want you to treat me like the dirty little whore I am."
Uh huh. Jeff tilts his head, studies Misha. "You never been stoned before, have you?"
Misha winks. "What'll you do if I say yes?"
"Give you what you want," Jeff says, willing to play along.
"And if I say no?"
"In that case," Jeff drawls, "I'd have to punish you for lying."
"Well, then," Misha says, clearly struggling to keep a straight face, "I guess I should tell you that I've been stoned lots of times before." He ruins the effect by giggling when Jeff hauls him from the floor and drags him towards the bedroom.
Kane RPS
for merry_gentry
Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, after the party
The last of the stragglers leave, and Christian locks the door behind them. He leans against it, looking around the room. Empty beer bottles, cups, plates, a variety of trash strewn everywhere, and he just doesn't have the energy to deal with it tonight.
Fuck it, it'll still be there in the morning.
He stumbles towards his room, wanting a flat surface and a soft pillow, but the door to Steve's bedroom is open. His fist is up to knock on the doorframe, see if Steve's awake, when Christian's eyes adjust to the darkness.
Seems like not all the stragglers made it out.
He stands there, in the shadow, and watches as Steve fucks the nameless brunette. There's just enough light that he can see big tits and long legs and the curve of Steve's back as he pumps away between her thighs. And the sounds carry all too well -- the wet glide of body parts moving together, the husky murmurs and sloppy kisses, the low moans that spill from the girl's lips as she claws at Steve's back.
It shouldn't be as hot as it is because Steve is one of his best friends.
Still, though, Christian finds himself taking a step back, deeper into the shadows, and unfastening his jeans. He closes his teeth over the knuckles of his free hand, the other busy stroking his cock as he watches. His fist moves in a blur; his eyes are focused on Steve.
They come together, and Christian has to lean against the wall, muscles trembling, breathing hoarse and heavy against his palm. And all he can do is wonder what it would feel like to be that girl.
Leverage RPS
for bwhouwant2b
Christian Kane/Aldis Hodge, faith
Christian's voice is low, hoarse, his words a steady stream tumbling from his lips.
Aldis closes his eyes for a moment, soaks in those words as Christian speaks to God, Mary, and all the angels. Then his eyes open and he looks down. The first thing he sees is contrast. His hands, rich chocolate, against Christian's paler, cream skin. The next thing is his cock, hard and glistening and much darker than his hands, disappearing inside Christian's tight ass, white skin marked with purpled bruises the exact shape of Aldis' hands.
Each thrust sends him a little closer to the edge, earns another hoarsely whispered prayer from Christian. A heavy rolling twist of his hips has Christian arching, shoving back, a louder "Oh, God, fuck!" torn from his throat.
Aldis has never been sure if he really believes in God or religion or any of it, no matter how his mama had tried to force into him when he was younger. Now, though, he wonders. Wonders if perhaps this is it, this closeness between two people, this moment right here when he hovers on the edge and Christian tightens around him, spilling over clean sheets with a sharp gasp.
Aldis has never truly believed, but he thinks he might know the way to Heaven.
Lotrips
for galor5
Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom, a walk in the park
"Taking Sidi out," Orlando said, wrapping the leash around his fingers. "Come with?"
Sean rattled his paper and didn't bother to look up. "Not just now, lad. I've some things to do."
"Oh." For a moment, Orlando just stood there. Then his shoulders slumped just the tiniest bit and he turned to go. "Alright then. I'll be back later."
"Have fun."
The door closed quietly behind Orlando, and silence descended over the house. A few minutes later, Sean lifted his head, peered over the top of his glasses. "Bloody hell," he muttered, folding the paper and tossing it aside. "Sean, yer an idiot."
It took him several more minutes to find his shoes and a light jacket. Then he was out of the house, whistling a jaunty tune as he headed down the street. The sun was bright, the air crisp and cool, and soon enough he was passing through a set of wide gates. He wasn't five yards into the park when he heard Sidi's excited barking. It was easy enough to follow the sound.
When he rounded a bend in the path, Orlando's expression was everything Sean could have hoped. "You came," Orlando said, smile wide and bright. He looked almost as excited as Sidi, who bounced around their feet. "But you said..."
"Nothing that couldn't wait," Sean said, and smiled. He caught Orlando's hand. "Too nice of a day to be inside."
"Exactly," Orlando said, and fell into step with Sean, smile still firmly in place.
for afra_schatz
Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom (author's choice), "Two Steps Behind" (Def Leppard)
I'll be there to remind you
That it only takes a minute of your precious time
To turn and I'll be two steps behind
Sean had just finished making the tea when he heard a knock. He was still wiping his hands with a towel when he answered the door. The person on the other side made him drop his jaw in surprise.
"'lo," Orlando said, with a hesitant smile. He looked older, more mature, and Sean didn't think that was necessarily a good thing.
"Orlando..." Remembering his manners, Sean stepped back, opened the door wider. "Come in, lad, come in."
"I, ah, wasn't sure you'd be home."
When Orlando stepped past him, Sean couldn't resist peeking at the car in the drive. It looked as if Orlando's pretty little super model wasn't with him. Then he turned and winced as he took in the mess in the living room. "Wasn't expecting company."
"Sorry," Orlando said, with that little smile again. "Probably should've called."
"No, it's fine." Sean smiled, made a small gesture towards the kitchen. "Tea?"
"No," Orlando said, then stopped and licked his lips. "No, thank you. I, um...Sean, do you remember what you said right before you left?"
Sean didn't need to ask 'left where'; he already knew. And he remembered every second of that good-bye as if it had just happened. But he just stood there, head cocked, and watched Orlando.
The silence stretched out, then Orlando exhaled slowly. "Did you mean it?"
The hug had lasted for what felt like an eternity, and Sean was reluctant to let go. Orlando was warm in his arms, face buried in the curve of Sean's neck. "Don't fret," Sean said, finally grasping Orlando's shoulders and holding him at arm's length. "We'll see each other so much you'll be sick of me."
"Won't happen," Orlando said, then moved back in for another hug, eyes bright and glistening.
Sean just held him for another moment, one hand cradling the back of Orlando's skull. Then he pressed a light kiss to Orlando's temple and whispered, "When you're ready, lad.
Sean carefully considered his next words. When Orlando shifted, Sean smiled. Some things never changed. "Have you ever known me to say something I didn't mean?"
"I...no." Orlando shook his head, chewed on his bottom lip. "I, um, I'm ready."
With the way Orlando was still fidgeting, Sean didn't believe him. So he remained silent and didn't move. Orlando fidgeted some more and then just stopped. Sean blinked.
He was still working his way through his surprise when Orlando's lips found his. "I'm ready," Orlando whispered, and cradled Sean's head with both hands, pressing in for a slow, thorough kiss. When it ended, Sean realized he wasn't the only one affected. Orlando smiled. "Do you still feel the same?"
"'Lando," Sean said, cupping Orlando's jaw with one hand, brushing his thumb over still moist lips, "I've always been here. Just been waiting on you to take a minute and turn around, that's all."
for galor5
Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom, Valentine's Day love letters
Dear Karl,
I love you more than skydiving. Really.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
More than skydiving? How about skydiving in the nude? Because I love you more than that.
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
In the nude? Mate, you're daft. Imagine the windburn on your dangly bits. I still love you, though, even if you're madder than Vigs after a whole pan of his 'special' brownies.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
Ouch, good point. Still though, it's a nice visual, innit? Anyway, I'd love you even if you WERE Vigs. But only if you were bringing the brownies.
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
Even if I was Vigs? That may be the weirdest, kinkiest thing you've ever said to me. Vigs, huh? Anything you feel like sharing? Whatever. I love you thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
You'd like to share, wouldn't you? Kinky little bugger. That much, huh? Well, I love you more than that.
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
More than that isn't possible. I love you the most, and you can't top that.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
Well, I love you more than Dean Winchester loves pie.
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
You've been watching the telly again, haven't you? Silly bastard.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
Maybe. That's still how much I love you, though. ;)
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
In that case (not that we're having a contest, mind), you win.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
What'd I win?
Love, Karl
Dear Karl,
ME. NAKED. IN YOUR BED. WITH A WHOLE CASE OF LUBE.
Love, Orlando
Dear Orlando,
Hallelujah, I've hit the lottery!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Love, Karl
for azewewish
Karl Urban/Sean Bean, pulse
They'd sparred often enough over the centuries, but there was something different tonight. Something dark, dangerous.
Predatorial.
And Sean smiled, feeding off it. He pressed his advantage, moved in until he could tangle Karl against the ropes. Gloved hands resting on his shoulders, heavy breathing loud in his ear, Sean leaned close.
The beat of Karl's blood, a hard throb just beneath the skin there, and Sean's nostrils flared as he inhaled. Sweat and cinnamon, clove and corruption, and a dark, sharp scent that was all Karl. A whisperfire of pain lanced through Sean's jaws as his fangs elongated. And Karl did nothing to push him back, push him away.
Sean smiled again, dipped his head until razor sharp points grazed sweat-slicked skin, and whispered, "You lose."
for galor5
Karl Urban/Harry Sinclair/Orlando Bloom, I double dog dare you
"Go on, do it."
Orlando's head whipped around at the hissed words, and he glared at Karl. "Are you daft?"
"Dare you," Karl grinned, leaning back against the bar, eyes dancing with evil glee.
"Piss off," Orlando said, refusing to look at Harry again.
"He's a good kisser," Karl said, leaning in to whisper the words in Orlando's ear. "And he loves to watch. Go on, double dare you."
"Piss off," Orlando said again, trying to hide how his body reacted to the idea of Harry watching. His mind, traitorous thing that is was, immediately jumped on the image of Harry doing and not just watching. Fuck.
"Said he wanted to watch you," Karl murmured, dragging his fingers up the back of Orlando's arm, grinning when Orlando jumped. "Told me he wants to know what you look like with a cock up your arse."
"He...what?" Orlando's eyes glazed over and virtually all higher brain functions ceased. The idea, man.
"Told me himself," Karl said, and smirked. "Orlando Bloom, I double dog dare you."
"Oi! That's playing dirty!"
Karl just continued to smirk. Bastard. There was nothing to do but march right over to Harry's table and do it then. With all of their friends watching. Orlando started across the room, and he could hear Karl clapping behind him. Just as soon as he figured out something suitable, he was going to pay Karl back for this.
He stopped at the table, waited until Harry looked up. "Yeah?"
"Hi," Orlando said, and swallowed. Then, without another word, he straddled Harry's lap, grasped Harry's head firmly with both hands, and kissed him. A proper kiss, per Karl's dare. And that kiss obliterated what little bit of brain function Orlando had left. When he lifted his head, it took him several seconds to register the complete silence that had fallen over the group around them.
"Took you long enough," Harry said, voice raspy, breathing heavy, but he smiled, and that smile sent all of Orlando's blood scrambling for his crotch in a mad rush. "Reckon we best collect Karl and go."
"Yeah, Orlando said, and dove back in for another kiss.
No Rules
for azewewish
Joaquin Phoenix/Josh Hartnett, shaving
"Come on." Josh grabbed Joaquin's arm, started to drag him from the living room.
Joaquin was just startled enough that he went along with it. "Wait, what, where are we going?"
"Bathroom," was all Josh said.
"What? Josh? Hello, let go of me," Joaquin said, trying to dig in his heels.
Josh just kept pulling him along. "Nope."
"What the hell?" Joaquin asked as Josh shoved him into the bathroom.
"Sit," Josh said, and picked up a straight razor from the counter.
Keeping a wary eye on it (after all, this was Josh and there was never any telling what he was planning), Joaquin backed away. "What're you planning on doing with that?"
"I've had enough of you looking like a homeless person," Josh said, and pointed to the closed toilet lid. "Sit."
"No. Get away!" Hands flapped, and Joaquin did his best to hold off Josh's advance.
"Sit still, or no sex for you for the next month."
It was enough to make Joaquin pause. He eyed Josh. "You're lying. You can't go that long."
"I won't have to. Got Jake, don't I?"
Joaquin blinked. Fucker had him there. "But..."
"Yes?" Josh just stood there, arms folded across his chest, razor dangling from one hand.
"Oh, fine," Joaquin said, aware he was pouting as he flopped down onto the toilet. "But cut me, and I'm kicking your ass."
Josh rolled his eyes and picked up the shaving cream. "Whatever you say, Joaq."
Crossover RPS
for azewewish
Haven/Star Trek, Zoe Saldana/Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom, finally
Orlando didn't bother to knock. He didn't need to, given how Karl had left him a keycard at the front desk. Humming quietly, Orlando let himself into the room. He took one step into the room and froze.
The tableau on the bed seared itself into his brain, sent all his blood scrambling for his crotch in a mad rush.
Karl, stark naked, flat on his back on tangled sheets. His skin was the palest gold, evidence of the recent time he'd spent in the sun, and his hands framed a slender waist and hips. Dark hair spread on the white pillowcase, and Karl's eyes were slitted, his lips parted in a low groan.
Zoe, just as naked, straddling Karl's hips, steadied by his hands as they urged her on. Her skin was the color of rich cinnamon and flawless, the perfect contrast to Karl's paler beauty. Slender thighs flexed as her head fell back, black hair brushing the small of her back as she rose and fell.
From where he stood, Orlando had a perfect view of Karl's cock, glistening with Zoe's juices, disappearing into her body. He had a perfect view of the way Karl's hand cupped one ass cheek, fingertips indenting porcelain smooth skin, a perfect view of high breasts and taut nipples and even, white teeth as they closed over her bottom lip.
Another step, then another, and the door whisked closed behind him. Zoe looked over her shoulder, flashed him a wicked smile. Karl's eyes opened, found Orlando's, and he said, "About time you showed up."
Without speaking, Zoe pointed to the nightstand and the bottle of lube there. She continued to rock against Karl as Orlando watched, slowly leaning forward until she lay against his broad chest. Karl shifted his leg, blatantly making room for Orlando to join them.
That was all the invitation Orlando needed.