Realistic Chapter 14
Short and sweet and finished! :D
Title: Realistic - Chapter 14/14
Author: theartoffic
Type: LOTR RPS AU
Pairing: Orlando/Elijah
Rating: Adult
Summary: In the 21st century Artificial Intelligence is still in its infancy, some scientists toy with the idea of creating robots that look, and act, and think like human beings; in the future they are going to succeed. Realistics look real, feel real, and, at a glance, cannot be distinguished from the ones who made them. They are the result of hundreds of years of AI evolution, they are beautiful, perfect, and expensive, but to society at large they are not real. This is the story of one such Realistic.
A/N: Previous chapters can be found by the tag :)
Beta: the amazing lisabellex <3
The American Heritage Science Dictionary
artificial intelligence
The ability of a computer or other machine to perform actions thought to require intelligence. Among these actions are logical deduction and inference, creativity, the ability to make decisions based on past experience or insufficient or conflicting information, and the ability to understand spoken language.
.... or the ability to love.
Banner: the lovely aranel80
Elijah's eyes flutter open to bright morning light and he lays there for a moment watching the cool breeze stir the sheer curtains. The nights are so much shorter on Iaole; no longer something to dread, he actually allows himself to sleep. He smiles contentedly as he curls one hand under his chin and watches the light play over Orlando’s golden skin and dark curls. He has seen Orlando like this every morning for a month now and he never finds the sight any less breathtaking.
He doesn’t really want to leave the bed, but he wants to do something for Orlando, something nice. He casts aside the sheet and reaches for his robe, another plush, cotton robe lifted from the Iaole Hilton and tucked away for him here - Orlando said he had wanted this place to feel like home. He would have felt at home anywhere with Orlando, robe or no robe.
“Where are you going?” Orlando captures him by the wrist, draws him back to the bed and the warm, comfortable circle of his arms.
Elijah grins and nuzzles Orlando’s chin with his nose, inhaling the sleep warm scent of his skin. “Coffee.”
“Do we even have coffee?”
Elijah watches Orlando’s eyes narrow and waits for the little frown-line to form between his eyes and cuts off the protest he knows will come next. “We didn't, but I ordered some yesterday and they should have dropped it by now.” It is not as though they need coffee, or bread, or any food at all, but it keeps up appearances and satisfies the occasional craving.
“Oh, good,” Orlando says as he snuggles into the bedding I’ll just...” The rest is muffled as Orlando burrows his face into the pillow.
“What?”
Orlando peeks up from the scrunched up pillow, a wicked little smirk curls up the corner of his mouth. “I said, I’ll just wait here ‘til you make it.”
“Then, you have to let me go.” He gives his still captured wrist a shake.
“Do I?” Orlando asks petulantly.
“Or you could make it.” Elijah leans forward and rests his chin on Orlando's shoulder.
“You make it better.”
"Liar," Elijah laughs. They both make it following the instructions on the label, though Elijah would have to admit that it always tastes better when Orlando makes it.
"You're the coffee addict," Orlando murmurs as he releases his wrist. "I'm addicted to other things."
Elijah grins as Orlando's hand slips beneath the fold of his robe. “I'm addicted to that too." But he can't let Orlando distract him. At least, not yet. He has a surprise.
"But… you still want coffee?" Orlando arches one eyebrow. "You want coffee more than you want me?"
"I wouldn't say that." Elijah quite enjoys the look of amusement on Orlando's face. "But it has been four days and you were the one who let us run out without mentioning -"
“I said I was sorry," Orlando smiles sheepishly at him, "and I tried to make it up to you.”
“Mmmm," Elijah hums softly and smiles at the memory. "You did, and I suppose I punished you enough for letting us run out, didn’t I?”
Orlando nods, hugging the crisp white pillow. Elijah watches Orlando's grin deepen, little crinkles form at the corner of his eyes, and Elijah feels it - the warm tingling pull behind his navel.
“You should know,” Orlando says softly as he nuzzles the pillow, “that your punishments aren’t really punishments.”
“But you won’t forget the coffee again, will you?”
“I might,” Orlando says a bit breathlessly, “on purpose.”
Elijah leans forward and nips Orlando’s cheek impulsively. Orlando makes a surprised sound and reaches for him but he’s quickly off the bed and padding down the stairs, his robe flapping open because Orlando stole the sashes off both of their robes to use for other, experimental, purposes. He just needs to see to a few things and then he’ll be back in that bed.
There are two boxes sitting in the enclosed entryway, one is the delivery from the grocery store, he can see the Whole Food’s logo emblazoned on the top of the box, and the other is a smaller package, addressed to his own alias, and nearly buried beneath the stack of junk mail addressed to Quinton Decker.
He lifts the lid on the first box and peeks inside; the rich, dark aroma of coffee greets his nose and he leaves the lid open as he carries it into the kitchen. He paws through the contents of the box and for a moment he thinks that perhaps his surprise isn’t in the box, or it has been stolen. He checks the receipt, the shipment could have gotten delayed, but, no, it is listed there, its exorbitant price standing out.
Finally, he finds it. He had been looking for a bottle and not a little crate but it makes sense that it would need to be packaged for such a long trip. He carefully extracts the small container of amber liquid. There are no maple trees on Iaole and this little jar hails all the way from Vermont. The color reminds him of Orlando’s skin.
He makes breakfast in the quiet kitchen. Pancakes from scratch and, while he is neater in the kitchen than Orlando, he still he manages to get flour on his nose and a dusting on his cheek.
As he waits for the pancakes to want flipping he tends to the junk mail, dropping it into the shredder. There is rarely any kind of personal mail but today there is a letter bearing interstellar postage and no return address. He sets it on the tray, puts his own little box on top of it, and fixes a plate of pancakes.
He carries the laden tray up the stairs, leans over Orlando, and carefully sets it on his side of the bed. The sheet has slipped to Orlando’s waist and Elijah takes in the expanse of naked skin bared to his eager eyes.
“Breakfast in bed? What’s the occasion?” Orlando asks as he lifts his head.
Elijah shakes his head and shrugs; he shivers as Orlando reaches for him and long fingers slip beneath his open robe. He bends to that touch and dips his head to give Orlando a soft kiss. An electric spark travels from his lips to his toes and back again; that tingle is like nothing else he has ever known and he still can't get enough.
“Orli?”
“Yeah, Lij?”
He can feel Orlando’s hands underneath his robe, slipping up his ribcage and smoothing over his chest.
“Do you … feel that?”
Orlando’s brows knit together in a quizzical look and Elijah feels a fleeting stab of disappointment. If Orlando doesn't know what he is talking about then he probably doesn't feel it.
“What?” Orlando asks curiously.
Elijah smiles, even if that jolt only happens to him it’s still wonderful but he’d hoped it was something they shared; he shrugs again and shakes his head. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“You mean, when we kiss?”
Elijah looks up shyly and nods. Orlando grins at him and Elijah feels a sweet tickle in his belly.
“I feel it. Of course I feel it. I felt it that night in the limo when I gave you your first taste of champagne and you kissed me.” Orlando’s fingers pull him closer. “Remember I told you that I knew you were different? That’s how I knew.”
Elijah laughs and kisses Orlando enthusiastically. “What do you think it is?”
“Love.”
“Love?” Elijah echoes. “Like, at first sight?”
“From that first moment on the bridge.” Orlando’s fingers move to cup his cheek. “The snowflakes were in your hair, clinging to your lashes, and you were so beautiful.” Orlando has a far-away look in his eye. “You were so alive; more vibrant than anyone I’d ever met.”
“I didn’t want to be,” Elijah says honestly; that feeling is so alien to him now.
“I know, but there was no way I was going to let you go.”
“Thank you.” It suddenly occurs to him that he has never thanked Orlando for saving his life; probably because for a long time he wasn’t sure he was glad.
“For what?”
Elijah turns and places a kiss on Orlando’s palm. “For everything. For saving me, making me breakfast … for loving me.”
“You did the same for me.”
That doesn’t seem possible. It is hard for him to believe that he could be responsible for Orlando’s happiness and he shakes his head.
“It’s true.” Orlando grips his chin gently, turns his face, and holds until he finally meets those warm, dark eyes. “You did.”
Elijah doesn’t think he’ll ever believe it. “As long as you’re happy.”
“I’m more than happy and someday I’ll show you. Someday, I’ll find a way to prove it.”
Elijah nods his head. If Orlando has proved anything it’s that he means what he says. "Your breakfast is getting cold."
"It smells good."
"That's because it is good." Elijah leans over to grab the plate but he can’t quite reach the tray. He shifts a little, draping himself across Orlando’s body and tries again.
“Mmmm,” he hears Orlando purr delightedly, “that looks good.”
Elijah gasps as Orlando’s hand slips beneath his loose robe and gives his ass a little swat.
“What?” Orlando asks innocently. “I couldn't resist the temptation.”
Elijah tries to scowl as he turns for the tray once more, but Orlando’s wandering hand slips beneath his robe, up his inner thigh to give his cock a playful tug.
“Sorry.” Orlando's voice is anything but apologetic. "Couldn't resist that either."
"What about breakfast? I went to all that trouble," Elijah teases.
"Would you rather I stop to eat?" Orlando's voice is like velvet.
"No," Elijah answers with certainty as he shifts his hips, grinding purposefully against Orlando. The movement causes his robe, barely closed to begin with, to fall open, exposing everything to Orlando’s eager hands.
"Didn't think so," Orlando hums.
"Well, I am going to have my breakfast." Orlando grunts a little beneath him as he leans over to grab the small bottle off the tray.
“What …? Is that -?” Orlando tries to prop himself up on his elbows. “That’s real maple syrup?”
Elijah nods with a cheeky grin as he pulls the stopper.
“When did you -?”
“I put it on the list awhile ago." Elijah places his hand squarely on Orlando's chest and pushes him back to the bedding.
"That was the call from the store?"
Elijah nods. "They wanted to make sure that I did want the real stuff, because it's so expensive. So we shouldn’t waste any,” he says seriously as he tips the bottle slowly, causing a droplet or two of the amber liquid to spill onto Orlando’s chest.
Orlando grunts softly as he leans forward to sweep up the meandering trail of sweet with his tongue.
"Is it better on pancakes or me?" Orlando wonders.
"You. Definitely you,” Elijah breathes as he tilts the bottle again. He drizzles a ribbon of syrup over Orlando’s chest to the flat of his stomach and chases the decadent treat eagerly, dipping into Orlando’s navel for the tiny bit that has pooled there.
Orlando’s fingers tighten reflexively around his neck and he rocks his hips seductively against the hardness he can feel trapped between them beneath the sheet.
“Is it good?” Orlando asks a little breathlessly.
In reply Elijah leans forward and claims a deep, open-mouth kiss, sharing the sweetness. "What do you think?"
Orlando's head flops back against the pillows, a grin curling the corners of his mouth. “It's fucking excellent. Can I have some more?"
Elijah chuckles as he shifts to push away the sheet between them. "Thought you weren't interested in breakfast?"
"I never said I wasn't," Orlando protests.
Elijah simply chuckles as he dips his finger into the bottle and smears some over each nipple. "So, I should just leave this and feed you pancakes?"
Orlando shakes his head, grinning madly. "No, no. I'm enjoying your breakfast."
"Mmm, I bet you are." Elijah's eyes narrow, but his lips pull into a predatory grin.
"Don't let me keep you from it," Orlando prompts with a little squirm.
"Subtle," Elijah laughs as he obliges, laving each nipple until they’re hard, and only the faintest residue of the sticky sweet remains. Then he moves lower, lapping at skin that is sweet on its own.
He looks up as he dips his tongue into Orlando's bellybutton and catches heavily lidded eyes watching him. He grins deviously as he uncorks the bottle and pours syrup the length of Orlando’s hard cock. He watches the amber fluid drip and run over taut, flushed skin.
"You look like a wicked angel." Orlando's fingertips trace the curve of his face.
Elijah's grin fades as he slips his mouth over sweet, hard cock. Wicked, yes; angel, no.
“Lijah," Orlando pleads in that breathless voice that tells Elijah his wicked little mouth is doing what he wants. “Lijah you’re… I’m…”
Elijah lifts his head; he knows how close to bring Orlando and just when he needs to stop.
Orlando exhales loudly, shakily. His face is flushed, there is a fine sheen of sweat on his skin and he is scrabbling for the bottle of lube on the nightstand.
“Want you to fuck me.” Orlando holds the tube out with a trembling hand. “Now, Lijah. Please?”
The desperation in Orlando's plea makes Elijah crazy. He surges forward, Orlando’s long legs part, slip around his hips to hold him close, and he greedily claims Orlando’s mouth with a hungry kiss. It isn't enough. He wants to crawl inside Orlando's body; become part of the heat that smolders in those dark brown eyes.
“Want to be inside you,” Elijah pants once he manages to tear his mouth away. The level of want he feels is staggering, terrifying, and he wishes it could be more… more than just his cock, or his tongue, but he’ll get inside anyway he can.
Orlando agrees with a strangled noise that nearly drowns out the sound of the plastic cap being flicked open. Elijah barely gets the gel squirted on his fingers and Orlando is stealing it.
"Impatient," Elijah chides happily. And then Orlando’s hand is on him, caressing him; slicking the slightly cool lube over his cock.
He has to stop himself from thrusting into Orlando’s fist.
"Good enough," Orlando declares.
Elijah agrees. He slips one arm under Orlando’s leg, pushing it back until it slips over his shoulder and he can feel the tiny hairs on Orlando’s calf rasp against his shoulder. He doesn’t need to waste any time positioning himself, Orlando makes it all too easy, bracing his hands against the headboard and bearing down.
Elijah makes a keening noise as Orlando’s body grips him. He is inside at last, connected. He grips the headboard with one hand, the sweet curve of Orlando’s ass with the other and then blindly pounds Orlando’s body.
He becomes aware of the tray, silverware making a rattling noise as it is jostled against the plate or mugs. If it makes a mess he will clean it up but he can't stop now. Orlando’s fingers catch in his hair, yanking him down for a kiss, and he forgets about everything save for he maddening, pleasurable heat building inside him.
Orlando arches beneath him, his kiss goes slack and the tightness of Orlando's body becomes too much. Heat and light explode behind Elijah's eyes. They come as one because they are one - one mind, one heart.
Elijah shivers once before collapsing on top of Orlando, nestling against his chest, spent and happily, relishing the long arms that wrap around him.
Eventually, Elijah lifts his head to peer at the tray. It is still intact.
"I'm afraid to look," Orlando confesses. "I forgot it was there."
“It's fine, actually, though I think our breakfast is cold.”
Orlando chuckles quietly. “Want me to get up and re-heat it?”
"I had my fill of syrup," Elijah grins as he props himself up and reaches for one of the coffees. He expects it to be cold but it's not.
"How is it?"
“It’s perfect,” Elijah says as he takes another sip.
“It sure it is,” Orlando agrees, sliding his thumb over Elijah’s navel and eyeing Elijah’s body.
“I meant the coffee.”
“I didn’t,” Orlando confesses with a wicked grin. “What about the pancakes?”
Elijah reaches out and touches them. “Not so much. They’re cold.”
“Sorry,” Orlando says but clearly he is not.
“Doesn’t matter. The pancakes were just an excuse for the syrup. I hadn’t thought of just eating it off you.”
Orlando whimpers softly. “I’m glad you did think of it though. Really, really glad. Full of surprises, you.”
Elijah laughs as he takes another sip of coffee and he spies the little shipping carton.
“Speaking of surprises, this came for you.” He picks up the box and hands it over. Orlando doesn’t keep any more secrets from him so he is very curious. “I don’t remember you telling me you’d ordered anything.”
Orlando begins to tear off the shipping paper. “I didn’t. I wanted to surprise you for a change.”
“You know, I don’t much care for your surprises.”
“I know, but I thought you might forgive me this one …” A piece of paper flutters to Orlando’s chest and Elijah watches him snatch it up quickly.
“Is that it? What it it?” The smile that lights Orlando’s face makes him insanely curious.
"This is an additional surprise. See for yourself."
Elijah takes the paper from Orlando hand. He flips it over to find a post-it note bearing the solicitor's scrawl, 'Per your request for information on the Olivetti’s.'
He peels away the little note and looks at the formal announcement.
Olivetti, Elijah Mathew James and Orlando Paul Jordan, born August, 8th to Tara and Ronald.
He looks up, catching Orlando's eye. “Twins,” he smiles, “and she named them after us.”
“Bet they call Orlando by his middle name though.”
Elijah continues to smile as he runs his thumb over the smooth paper. “I think about her everyday, you know. I’m happy for them.”
“Me too,” Orlando agrees softly.
“It’s nice to know she hasn’t forgotten us.”
“That's our Tara.”
“Think we’ll ever get to see her again?” He knows it is too risky now. But someday … someday they could go to Halo and maybe see their old friends.
“I know what you’re thinking, Lij, but we can’t. You know we can’t.”
“Why not?” Elijah asks even though he knows the answer.
“Too dangerous, you know that,” Orlando says softly.
“It wouldn’t be if just Tara and Ron knew.”
“It’s still too soon; too risky. People would still recognize me." Orlando stared up at him for a moment.
“I just - " Elijah sighs.
“I know. I miss her too.”
Elijah realizes that he is being selfish. He is feeling sorry for himself and a little irritated by Orlando’s reluctance, but he knows that Orlando really does understand; truthfully, Orlando probably feels it even more keenly. He smiles sheepishly at Orlando and apologizes.
“Don’t be. We both had to give up some things to have this. You're happy though, aren't you?”
Elijah nods. "More than I ever could have imagined."
Orlando's grin is magnetic. "Good. This is for you." He holds up a little box. “Open it.”
Inside the cardboard is a small velvet jewelry box and when Elijah unhinges the lid he sees twin silver rings inside; they are carved with a familiar design.
“I know you’re going to think I’m a goofball, “Orlando laughs, “and maybe you’d still rather have Christmas socks after all, and I know I don’t need to remind you of my promise or give you a reminder that I meant it, but I just thought you might like a replacement for the one the Company took, and I got one to match.”
Elijah loves Orlando's rambling admission. He knows what the rings signify, a custom that dates back almost a thousand years in one form or another.
“Thank you,” Elijah whispers as he takes the ring Orlando holds out. He tries it on his thumb but it’s too small.
“Try your ring finger.”
Elijah blinks slowly. To place the ring on that finger signifies an equal bond, and an equal relationship. It’s the physical representation of the love they share and he’s as in awe of it now as he was that first night at Tara’s wedding.
“It looks like we’re married,” Elijah says softly as he runs his thumb over the symbols.
“We’re better than married, Elijah, we’ve got something no one else has.”
Elijah leans forward and presses a slick, hot kiss to Orlando’s lips. “What’s that?”
“Forever, Elijah, I’ve got you … forever.”
Elijah realizes that the idea of forever no longer terrifies him.
“Forever.” He agrees with happy smile.
The End
Title: Realistic - Chapter 14/14
Author: theartoffic
Type: LOTR RPS AU
Pairing: Orlando/Elijah
Rating: Adult
Summary: In the 21st century Artificial Intelligence is still in its infancy, some scientists toy with the idea of creating robots that look, and act, and think like human beings; in the future they are going to succeed. Realistics look real, feel real, and, at a glance, cannot be distinguished from the ones who made them. They are the result of hundreds of years of AI evolution, they are beautiful, perfect, and expensive, but to society at large they are not real. This is the story of one such Realistic.
A/N: Previous chapters can be found by the tag :)
Beta: the amazing lisabellex <3
The American Heritage Science Dictionary
artificial intelligence
The ability of a computer or other machine to perform actions thought to require intelligence. Among these actions are logical deduction and inference, creativity, the ability to make decisions based on past experience or insufficient or conflicting information, and the ability to understand spoken language.
.... or the ability to love.
Banner: the lovely aranel80
Elijah's eyes flutter open to bright morning light and he lays there for a moment watching the cool breeze stir the sheer curtains. The nights are so much shorter on Iaole; no longer something to dread, he actually allows himself to sleep. He smiles contentedly as he curls one hand under his chin and watches the light play over Orlando’s golden skin and dark curls. He has seen Orlando like this every morning for a month now and he never finds the sight any less breathtaking.
He doesn’t really want to leave the bed, but he wants to do something for Orlando, something nice. He casts aside the sheet and reaches for his robe, another plush, cotton robe lifted from the Iaole Hilton and tucked away for him here - Orlando said he had wanted this place to feel like home. He would have felt at home anywhere with Orlando, robe or no robe.
“Where are you going?” Orlando captures him by the wrist, draws him back to the bed and the warm, comfortable circle of his arms.
Elijah grins and nuzzles Orlando’s chin with his nose, inhaling the sleep warm scent of his skin. “Coffee.”
“Do we even have coffee?”
Elijah watches Orlando’s eyes narrow and waits for the little frown-line to form between his eyes and cuts off the protest he knows will come next. “We didn't, but I ordered some yesterday and they should have dropped it by now.” It is not as though they need coffee, or bread, or any food at all, but it keeps up appearances and satisfies the occasional craving.
“Oh, good,” Orlando says as he snuggles into the bedding I’ll just...” The rest is muffled as Orlando burrows his face into the pillow.
“What?”
Orlando peeks up from the scrunched up pillow, a wicked little smirk curls up the corner of his mouth. “I said, I’ll just wait here ‘til you make it.”
“Then, you have to let me go.” He gives his still captured wrist a shake.
“Do I?” Orlando asks petulantly.
“Or you could make it.” Elijah leans forward and rests his chin on Orlando's shoulder.
“You make it better.”
"Liar," Elijah laughs. They both make it following the instructions on the label, though Elijah would have to admit that it always tastes better when Orlando makes it.
"You're the coffee addict," Orlando murmurs as he releases his wrist. "I'm addicted to other things."
Elijah grins as Orlando's hand slips beneath the fold of his robe. “I'm addicted to that too." But he can't let Orlando distract him. At least, not yet. He has a surprise.
"But… you still want coffee?" Orlando arches one eyebrow. "You want coffee more than you want me?"
"I wouldn't say that." Elijah quite enjoys the look of amusement on Orlando's face. "But it has been four days and you were the one who let us run out without mentioning -"
“I said I was sorry," Orlando smiles sheepishly at him, "and I tried to make it up to you.”
“Mmmm," Elijah hums softly and smiles at the memory. "You did, and I suppose I punished you enough for letting us run out, didn’t I?”
Orlando nods, hugging the crisp white pillow. Elijah watches Orlando's grin deepen, little crinkles form at the corner of his eyes, and Elijah feels it - the warm tingling pull behind his navel.
“You should know,” Orlando says softly as he nuzzles the pillow, “that your punishments aren’t really punishments.”
“But you won’t forget the coffee again, will you?”
“I might,” Orlando says a bit breathlessly, “on purpose.”
Elijah leans forward and nips Orlando’s cheek impulsively. Orlando makes a surprised sound and reaches for him but he’s quickly off the bed and padding down the stairs, his robe flapping open because Orlando stole the sashes off both of their robes to use for other, experimental, purposes. He just needs to see to a few things and then he’ll be back in that bed.
There are two boxes sitting in the enclosed entryway, one is the delivery from the grocery store, he can see the Whole Food’s logo emblazoned on the top of the box, and the other is a smaller package, addressed to his own alias, and nearly buried beneath the stack of junk mail addressed to Quinton Decker.
He lifts the lid on the first box and peeks inside; the rich, dark aroma of coffee greets his nose and he leaves the lid open as he carries it into the kitchen. He paws through the contents of the box and for a moment he thinks that perhaps his surprise isn’t in the box, or it has been stolen. He checks the receipt, the shipment could have gotten delayed, but, no, it is listed there, its exorbitant price standing out.
Finally, he finds it. He had been looking for a bottle and not a little crate but it makes sense that it would need to be packaged for such a long trip. He carefully extracts the small container of amber liquid. There are no maple trees on Iaole and this little jar hails all the way from Vermont. The color reminds him of Orlando’s skin.
He makes breakfast in the quiet kitchen. Pancakes from scratch and, while he is neater in the kitchen than Orlando, he still he manages to get flour on his nose and a dusting on his cheek.
As he waits for the pancakes to want flipping he tends to the junk mail, dropping it into the shredder. There is rarely any kind of personal mail but today there is a letter bearing interstellar postage and no return address. He sets it on the tray, puts his own little box on top of it, and fixes a plate of pancakes.
He carries the laden tray up the stairs, leans over Orlando, and carefully sets it on his side of the bed. The sheet has slipped to Orlando’s waist and Elijah takes in the expanse of naked skin bared to his eager eyes.
“Breakfast in bed? What’s the occasion?” Orlando asks as he lifts his head.
Elijah shakes his head and shrugs; he shivers as Orlando reaches for him and long fingers slip beneath his open robe. He bends to that touch and dips his head to give Orlando a soft kiss. An electric spark travels from his lips to his toes and back again; that tingle is like nothing else he has ever known and he still can't get enough.
“Orli?”
“Yeah, Lij?”
He can feel Orlando’s hands underneath his robe, slipping up his ribcage and smoothing over his chest.
“Do you … feel that?”
Orlando’s brows knit together in a quizzical look and Elijah feels a fleeting stab of disappointment. If Orlando doesn't know what he is talking about then he probably doesn't feel it.
“What?” Orlando asks curiously.
Elijah smiles, even if that jolt only happens to him it’s still wonderful but he’d hoped it was something they shared; he shrugs again and shakes his head. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“You mean, when we kiss?”
Elijah looks up shyly and nods. Orlando grins at him and Elijah feels a sweet tickle in his belly.
“I feel it. Of course I feel it. I felt it that night in the limo when I gave you your first taste of champagne and you kissed me.” Orlando’s fingers pull him closer. “Remember I told you that I knew you were different? That’s how I knew.”
Elijah laughs and kisses Orlando enthusiastically. “What do you think it is?”
“Love.”
“Love?” Elijah echoes. “Like, at first sight?”
“From that first moment on the bridge.” Orlando’s fingers move to cup his cheek. “The snowflakes were in your hair, clinging to your lashes, and you were so beautiful.” Orlando has a far-away look in his eye. “You were so alive; more vibrant than anyone I’d ever met.”
“I didn’t want to be,” Elijah says honestly; that feeling is so alien to him now.
“I know, but there was no way I was going to let you go.”
“Thank you.” It suddenly occurs to him that he has never thanked Orlando for saving his life; probably because for a long time he wasn’t sure he was glad.
“For what?”
Elijah turns and places a kiss on Orlando’s palm. “For everything. For saving me, making me breakfast … for loving me.”
“You did the same for me.”
That doesn’t seem possible. It is hard for him to believe that he could be responsible for Orlando’s happiness and he shakes his head.
“It’s true.” Orlando grips his chin gently, turns his face, and holds until he finally meets those warm, dark eyes. “You did.”
Elijah doesn’t think he’ll ever believe it. “As long as you’re happy.”
“I’m more than happy and someday I’ll show you. Someday, I’ll find a way to prove it.”
Elijah nods his head. If Orlando has proved anything it’s that he means what he says. "Your breakfast is getting cold."
"It smells good."
"That's because it is good." Elijah leans over to grab the plate but he can’t quite reach the tray. He shifts a little, draping himself across Orlando’s body and tries again.
“Mmmm,” he hears Orlando purr delightedly, “that looks good.”
Elijah gasps as Orlando’s hand slips beneath his loose robe and gives his ass a little swat.
“What?” Orlando asks innocently. “I couldn't resist the temptation.”
Elijah tries to scowl as he turns for the tray once more, but Orlando’s wandering hand slips beneath his robe, up his inner thigh to give his cock a playful tug.
“Sorry.” Orlando's voice is anything but apologetic. "Couldn't resist that either."
"What about breakfast? I went to all that trouble," Elijah teases.
"Would you rather I stop to eat?" Orlando's voice is like velvet.
"No," Elijah answers with certainty as he shifts his hips, grinding purposefully against Orlando. The movement causes his robe, barely closed to begin with, to fall open, exposing everything to Orlando’s eager hands.
"Didn't think so," Orlando hums.
"Well, I am going to have my breakfast." Orlando grunts a little beneath him as he leans over to grab the small bottle off the tray.
“What …? Is that -?” Orlando tries to prop himself up on his elbows. “That’s real maple syrup?”
Elijah nods with a cheeky grin as he pulls the stopper.
“When did you -?”
“I put it on the list awhile ago." Elijah places his hand squarely on Orlando's chest and pushes him back to the bedding.
"That was the call from the store?"
Elijah nods. "They wanted to make sure that I did want the real stuff, because it's so expensive. So we shouldn’t waste any,” he says seriously as he tips the bottle slowly, causing a droplet or two of the amber liquid to spill onto Orlando’s chest.
Orlando grunts softly as he leans forward to sweep up the meandering trail of sweet with his tongue.
"Is it better on pancakes or me?" Orlando wonders.
"You. Definitely you,” Elijah breathes as he tilts the bottle again. He drizzles a ribbon of syrup over Orlando’s chest to the flat of his stomach and chases the decadent treat eagerly, dipping into Orlando’s navel for the tiny bit that has pooled there.
Orlando’s fingers tighten reflexively around his neck and he rocks his hips seductively against the hardness he can feel trapped between them beneath the sheet.
“Is it good?” Orlando asks a little breathlessly.
In reply Elijah leans forward and claims a deep, open-mouth kiss, sharing the sweetness. "What do you think?"
Orlando's head flops back against the pillows, a grin curling the corners of his mouth. “It's fucking excellent. Can I have some more?"
Elijah chuckles as he shifts to push away the sheet between them. "Thought you weren't interested in breakfast?"
"I never said I wasn't," Orlando protests.
Elijah simply chuckles as he dips his finger into the bottle and smears some over each nipple. "So, I should just leave this and feed you pancakes?"
Orlando shakes his head, grinning madly. "No, no. I'm enjoying your breakfast."
"Mmm, I bet you are." Elijah's eyes narrow, but his lips pull into a predatory grin.
"Don't let me keep you from it," Orlando prompts with a little squirm.
"Subtle," Elijah laughs as he obliges, laving each nipple until they’re hard, and only the faintest residue of the sticky sweet remains. Then he moves lower, lapping at skin that is sweet on its own.
He looks up as he dips his tongue into Orlando's bellybutton and catches heavily lidded eyes watching him. He grins deviously as he uncorks the bottle and pours syrup the length of Orlando’s hard cock. He watches the amber fluid drip and run over taut, flushed skin.
"You look like a wicked angel." Orlando's fingertips trace the curve of his face.
Elijah's grin fades as he slips his mouth over sweet, hard cock. Wicked, yes; angel, no.
“Lijah," Orlando pleads in that breathless voice that tells Elijah his wicked little mouth is doing what he wants. “Lijah you’re… I’m…”
Elijah lifts his head; he knows how close to bring Orlando and just when he needs to stop.
Orlando exhales loudly, shakily. His face is flushed, there is a fine sheen of sweat on his skin and he is scrabbling for the bottle of lube on the nightstand.
“Want you to fuck me.” Orlando holds the tube out with a trembling hand. “Now, Lijah. Please?”
The desperation in Orlando's plea makes Elijah crazy. He surges forward, Orlando’s long legs part, slip around his hips to hold him close, and he greedily claims Orlando’s mouth with a hungry kiss. It isn't enough. He wants to crawl inside Orlando's body; become part of the heat that smolders in those dark brown eyes.
“Want to be inside you,” Elijah pants once he manages to tear his mouth away. The level of want he feels is staggering, terrifying, and he wishes it could be more… more than just his cock, or his tongue, but he’ll get inside anyway he can.
Orlando agrees with a strangled noise that nearly drowns out the sound of the plastic cap being flicked open. Elijah barely gets the gel squirted on his fingers and Orlando is stealing it.
"Impatient," Elijah chides happily. And then Orlando’s hand is on him, caressing him; slicking the slightly cool lube over his cock.
He has to stop himself from thrusting into Orlando’s fist.
"Good enough," Orlando declares.
Elijah agrees. He slips one arm under Orlando’s leg, pushing it back until it slips over his shoulder and he can feel the tiny hairs on Orlando’s calf rasp against his shoulder. He doesn’t need to waste any time positioning himself, Orlando makes it all too easy, bracing his hands against the headboard and bearing down.
Elijah makes a keening noise as Orlando’s body grips him. He is inside at last, connected. He grips the headboard with one hand, the sweet curve of Orlando’s ass with the other and then blindly pounds Orlando’s body.
He becomes aware of the tray, silverware making a rattling noise as it is jostled against the plate or mugs. If it makes a mess he will clean it up but he can't stop now. Orlando’s fingers catch in his hair, yanking him down for a kiss, and he forgets about everything save for he maddening, pleasurable heat building inside him.
Orlando arches beneath him, his kiss goes slack and the tightness of Orlando's body becomes too much. Heat and light explode behind Elijah's eyes. They come as one because they are one - one mind, one heart.
Elijah shivers once before collapsing on top of Orlando, nestling against his chest, spent and happily, relishing the long arms that wrap around him.
Eventually, Elijah lifts his head to peer at the tray. It is still intact.
"I'm afraid to look," Orlando confesses. "I forgot it was there."
“It's fine, actually, though I think our breakfast is cold.”
Orlando chuckles quietly. “Want me to get up and re-heat it?”
"I had my fill of syrup," Elijah grins as he props himself up and reaches for one of the coffees. He expects it to be cold but it's not.
"How is it?"
“It’s perfect,” Elijah says as he takes another sip.
“It sure it is,” Orlando agrees, sliding his thumb over Elijah’s navel and eyeing Elijah’s body.
“I meant the coffee.”
“I didn’t,” Orlando confesses with a wicked grin. “What about the pancakes?”
Elijah reaches out and touches them. “Not so much. They’re cold.”
“Sorry,” Orlando says but clearly he is not.
“Doesn’t matter. The pancakes were just an excuse for the syrup. I hadn’t thought of just eating it off you.”
Orlando whimpers softly. “I’m glad you did think of it though. Really, really glad. Full of surprises, you.”
Elijah laughs as he takes another sip of coffee and he spies the little shipping carton.
“Speaking of surprises, this came for you.” He picks up the box and hands it over. Orlando doesn’t keep any more secrets from him so he is very curious. “I don’t remember you telling me you’d ordered anything.”
Orlando begins to tear off the shipping paper. “I didn’t. I wanted to surprise you for a change.”
“You know, I don’t much care for your surprises.”
“I know, but I thought you might forgive me this one …” A piece of paper flutters to Orlando’s chest and Elijah watches him snatch it up quickly.
“Is that it? What it it?” The smile that lights Orlando’s face makes him insanely curious.
"This is an additional surprise. See for yourself."
Elijah takes the paper from Orlando hand. He flips it over to find a post-it note bearing the solicitor's scrawl, 'Per your request for information on the Olivetti’s.'
He peels away the little note and looks at the formal announcement.
Olivetti, Elijah Mathew James and Orlando Paul Jordan, born August, 8th to Tara and Ronald.
He looks up, catching Orlando's eye. “Twins,” he smiles, “and she named them after us.”
“Bet they call Orlando by his middle name though.”
Elijah continues to smile as he runs his thumb over the smooth paper. “I think about her everyday, you know. I’m happy for them.”
“Me too,” Orlando agrees softly.
“It’s nice to know she hasn’t forgotten us.”
“That's our Tara.”
“Think we’ll ever get to see her again?” He knows it is too risky now. But someday … someday they could go to Halo and maybe see their old friends.
“I know what you’re thinking, Lij, but we can’t. You know we can’t.”
“Why not?” Elijah asks even though he knows the answer.
“Too dangerous, you know that,” Orlando says softly.
“It wouldn’t be if just Tara and Ron knew.”
“It’s still too soon; too risky. People would still recognize me." Orlando stared up at him for a moment.
“I just - " Elijah sighs.
“I know. I miss her too.”
Elijah realizes that he is being selfish. He is feeling sorry for himself and a little irritated by Orlando’s reluctance, but he knows that Orlando really does understand; truthfully, Orlando probably feels it even more keenly. He smiles sheepishly at Orlando and apologizes.
“Don’t be. We both had to give up some things to have this. You're happy though, aren't you?”
Elijah nods. "More than I ever could have imagined."
Orlando's grin is magnetic. "Good. This is for you." He holds up a little box. “Open it.”
Inside the cardboard is a small velvet jewelry box and when Elijah unhinges the lid he sees twin silver rings inside; they are carved with a familiar design.
“I know you’re going to think I’m a goofball, “Orlando laughs, “and maybe you’d still rather have Christmas socks after all, and I know I don’t need to remind you of my promise or give you a reminder that I meant it, but I just thought you might like a replacement for the one the Company took, and I got one to match.”
Elijah loves Orlando's rambling admission. He knows what the rings signify, a custom that dates back almost a thousand years in one form or another.
“Thank you,” Elijah whispers as he takes the ring Orlando holds out. He tries it on his thumb but it’s too small.
“Try your ring finger.”
Elijah blinks slowly. To place the ring on that finger signifies an equal bond, and an equal relationship. It’s the physical representation of the love they share and he’s as in awe of it now as he was that first night at Tara’s wedding.
“It looks like we’re married,” Elijah says softly as he runs his thumb over the symbols.
“We’re better than married, Elijah, we’ve got something no one else has.”
Elijah leans forward and presses a slick, hot kiss to Orlando’s lips. “What’s that?”
“Forever, Elijah, I’ve got you … forever.”
Elijah realizes that the idea of forever no longer terrifies him.
“Forever.” He agrees with happy smile.
The End