Fic: Shooting (SB/OB, NC-17)
Title: Shooting
Author: jenmstar
E-mail: jenmstar@gmail.com
Pairing: Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom
Rating: NC-17
Archive: northern_softy orlandoslash fellow_shippers bean_squee
Disclaimer: This is all fiction.
Beta: None. Please let me know if you find any mistakes.
Notes: Stand alone PWP.
“You aren’t going to be able to kill anything if you can’t actually hit it.”
Orlando jumped and the bow dropped from his hands as he spun around.
“Fucking bastard,” he said, glaring up at Sean as he bent down to pick up his bow. “Real fucking insightful, aren’t you?”
“Now, now, there’s no need for such language,” Sean said, settling himself down on a bale of hay. “Just merely trying to help.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not helping,” Orlando said with a sigh, staring out toward the target, the one containing only a fraction of the arrows he had shot at it.
“You’ve only been at it just over a week,” Sean said, standing and moving behind Orlando, resting his hands on Orlando’s shoulders. “No one expects you to be an expert. Not in a week.”
“I don’t have three months to learn,” Orlando replied, leaning back against Sean. “The boating wasn’t this hard, the sword fighting wasn’t that hard. I don’t know why this is.”
“You just need to relax,” Sean said, one arm wrapping around Orlando, his hand resting low on Orlando’s stomach. “No wonder you can’t hit the target.”
“Well, I’m not going to relax knowing I have to listen to Viggo go on about it again tomorrow,” Orlando said, sighing again.
“It’s going to be dark soon,” Sean pointed out. “You’ll have less luck hitting the target if you can’t see it.”
“Don’t know, blind luck might work better than aiming at this point,” Orlando said, letting his hand drop so the end of the bow rested on the ground.
“Perhaps you need some help relaxing before you finish out here,” Sean said, letting his hand slide lower.
Orlando jerked as Sean’s hand moved precariously close to his groin. “Wh- what are you doing?”
“Helping you relax,” Sean said as if it were perfectly clear. Before Orlando could protest again, his hand moved down to cover Orlando’s erection with his hand.
“B- but someone might see,” Orlando tried to protest, even as his hips moved forward to press his cock against Sean’s hand through his pants.
“I doubt very much that anyone is standing downwind on an archery range,” Sean pointed out, hand starting to move slightly over the bulge in Orlando’s pants, mouth brushing ever so softly against Orlando’s ear. “And anyone looking at us from elsewhere would only see me standing behind you.” He pauses to squeeze Orlando’s cock. “And I don’t think that you want me to stop.”
“No,” Orlando admitted, shivering as Sean’s breath caressed his skin. “Don’t stop. Please.”
“I’m sure this will help you relax,” Sean said with smile, flicking the button of Orlando’s pants open with one hand before dragging down the zipper.
“It better,” Orlando managed to grind out. “Because otherwise you are wasting my practice time.
“Well, I can always stop and let you get back to practicing,” Sean said, stopping just before his hand slid inside of Orlando’s fly.
“Don’t you dare,” Orlando hissed. “There’s no way I could practice now, even if you did leave me to it.” He squirmed as Sean nipped at his earlobe. “And I don’t fancy a wank in the middle of an archery range.”
“Poor Southern Softy,” Sean said with a smile, placing a soft kiss to Orlando’s neck before working his hand into Orlando’s pants. It only took a moment or two to work his hand into Orlando’s boxers and wrap around his cock.
Orlando sighed as Sean’s large hand finally found his cock and grasped it firmly. There was a clatter as Orlando’s bow fell out of his grasp and hit the ground.
“There we go,” Sean whispered, lips moving over the sensitive skin of Orlando’s neck with ever word. His hand finally starts to move over Orlando’s cock, drawing out moans with each move of his hands.
“Oh fuck yes,” Orlando whimpered. “Just like that.” His body moved backward, craving more contact with Sean’s body while at the same time moving forward to get more of the friction of Sean’s hand working over his achingly hard penis.
“Better than practicing?” Sean teased, swiping his thumb over the head of Orlando’s cock, feeling the moisture there smear against the pad of his thumb.
Orlando nodded, a low moan spilling past his lips, but no words coming out. His hips started to move in time with Sean’s strokes, all but fucking Sean’s hand in his haste for release.
“Just let it go,” Sean encouraged, his stokes moving ever faster over Orlando’s cock. “I know you want to. I can feel how much you want it. You’re damp and twitching.”
Orlando moaned, cheeks flushing with both embarrassment and arousal. It took only a moment or two more and he was coming, his semen shooting over Sean’s fist and falling to the ground at his feet.
Sean laughed gently as Orlando slumped back against his chest as his arousal subsided. “Feel less tense?” he asked with a kiss to the dark, damp curls in front of him.
Orlando nodded, head leaning back on Sean’s shoulder as Sean wiped his hand on his pants, then moved to zip up Orlando’s pants.
“Good,” Sean said, stepping back and giving Orlando a firm pat on the arse. “Now try shooting again...”
Author: jenmstar
E-mail: jenmstar@gmail.com
Pairing: Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom
Rating: NC-17
Archive: northern_softy orlandoslash fellow_shippers bean_squee
Disclaimer: This is all fiction.
Beta: None. Please let me know if you find any mistakes.
Notes: Stand alone PWP.
“You aren’t going to be able to kill anything if you can’t actually hit it.”
Orlando jumped and the bow dropped from his hands as he spun around.
“Fucking bastard,” he said, glaring up at Sean as he bent down to pick up his bow. “Real fucking insightful, aren’t you?”
“Now, now, there’s no need for such language,” Sean said, settling himself down on a bale of hay. “Just merely trying to help.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not helping,” Orlando said with a sigh, staring out toward the target, the one containing only a fraction of the arrows he had shot at it.
“You’ve only been at it just over a week,” Sean said, standing and moving behind Orlando, resting his hands on Orlando’s shoulders. “No one expects you to be an expert. Not in a week.”
“I don’t have three months to learn,” Orlando replied, leaning back against Sean. “The boating wasn’t this hard, the sword fighting wasn’t that hard. I don’t know why this is.”
“You just need to relax,” Sean said, one arm wrapping around Orlando, his hand resting low on Orlando’s stomach. “No wonder you can’t hit the target.”
“Well, I’m not going to relax knowing I have to listen to Viggo go on about it again tomorrow,” Orlando said, sighing again.
“It’s going to be dark soon,” Sean pointed out. “You’ll have less luck hitting the target if you can’t see it.”
“Don’t know, blind luck might work better than aiming at this point,” Orlando said, letting his hand drop so the end of the bow rested on the ground.
“Perhaps you need some help relaxing before you finish out here,” Sean said, letting his hand slide lower.
Orlando jerked as Sean’s hand moved precariously close to his groin. “Wh- what are you doing?”
“Helping you relax,” Sean said as if it were perfectly clear. Before Orlando could protest again, his hand moved down to cover Orlando’s erection with his hand.
“B- but someone might see,” Orlando tried to protest, even as his hips moved forward to press his cock against Sean’s hand through his pants.
“I doubt very much that anyone is standing downwind on an archery range,” Sean pointed out, hand starting to move slightly over the bulge in Orlando’s pants, mouth brushing ever so softly against Orlando’s ear. “And anyone looking at us from elsewhere would only see me standing behind you.” He pauses to squeeze Orlando’s cock. “And I don’t think that you want me to stop.”
“No,” Orlando admitted, shivering as Sean’s breath caressed his skin. “Don’t stop. Please.”
“I’m sure this will help you relax,” Sean said with smile, flicking the button of Orlando’s pants open with one hand before dragging down the zipper.
“It better,” Orlando managed to grind out. “Because otherwise you are wasting my practice time.
“Well, I can always stop and let you get back to practicing,” Sean said, stopping just before his hand slid inside of Orlando’s fly.
“Don’t you dare,” Orlando hissed. “There’s no way I could practice now, even if you did leave me to it.” He squirmed as Sean nipped at his earlobe. “And I don’t fancy a wank in the middle of an archery range.”
“Poor Southern Softy,” Sean said with a smile, placing a soft kiss to Orlando’s neck before working his hand into Orlando’s pants. It only took a moment or two to work his hand into Orlando’s boxers and wrap around his cock.
Orlando sighed as Sean’s large hand finally found his cock and grasped it firmly. There was a clatter as Orlando’s bow fell out of his grasp and hit the ground.
“There we go,” Sean whispered, lips moving over the sensitive skin of Orlando’s neck with ever word. His hand finally starts to move over Orlando’s cock, drawing out moans with each move of his hands.
“Oh fuck yes,” Orlando whimpered. “Just like that.” His body moved backward, craving more contact with Sean’s body while at the same time moving forward to get more of the friction of Sean’s hand working over his achingly hard penis.
“Better than practicing?” Sean teased, swiping his thumb over the head of Orlando’s cock, feeling the moisture there smear against the pad of his thumb.
Orlando nodded, a low moan spilling past his lips, but no words coming out. His hips started to move in time with Sean’s strokes, all but fucking Sean’s hand in his haste for release.
“Just let it go,” Sean encouraged, his stokes moving ever faster over Orlando’s cock. “I know you want to. I can feel how much you want it. You’re damp and twitching.”
Orlando moaned, cheeks flushing with both embarrassment and arousal. It took only a moment or two more and he was coming, his semen shooting over Sean’s fist and falling to the ground at his feet.
Sean laughed gently as Orlando slumped back against his chest as his arousal subsided. “Feel less tense?” he asked with a kiss to the dark, damp curls in front of him.
Orlando nodded, head leaning back on Sean’s shoulder as Sean wiped his hand on his pants, then moved to zip up Orlando’s pants.
“Good,” Sean said, stepping back and giving Orlando a firm pat on the arse. “Now try shooting again...”