final challenge fic!
Title: After Hours
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Pairing: BB/OB
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: So fiction. So fun.
Feedback: The icing on my proverbial tiramisu.
Response to the following: Summer romance (AU or not) [Request by mod_journal]
Summary: I was all too happy to be able to fulfil a request for our lovely moderator, and this idea just screamed modern day “Dirty Dancing” to me, so here it is, minus Patrick Swayze and plus lots of boy lovin’!
It wasn’t a bad summer job. Preparing for his last year at Guildhall, Orlando needed to make a little extra money before he would be stuck on the streets as a “real world” actor, a profession that wasn’t exactly lucrative. When a friend had told him about the American resort catering to the country club set, he was a little unsure, but then he saw the figure he could make just from waiting tables in the resort restaurant and serving as a concierge when meals weren’t being served. It was more than enough to cover his plane ticket from Heathrow and back, plus a substantial amount to put away. Not to mention the fact that he’d be working with his good friend Dominic for the summer, and Dom had told him that some of the rich female patrons were only too willing to dole out generous tips to a “precious” British waiter with such a “precious” accent.
Orlando had almost smirked in a woman’s face the first time he actually heard that comment, but he soon learned to swallow his amusement when his good looks and charm actually did tend to earn sizeable tips from the patrons, mainly well-off businessmen and their wives. The Massachusetts summer was a bit warmer than what Orlando was used to, but the sun was a welcome element, and during his off time Orlando loved to shuck the white suit he wore while working and cool off in the lake or enjoy a game of volleyball with the patrons. Staff-patron intermingling was encouraged to some level, especially when it involved those incessant wives, always too happy to watch their husbands play a sport with an attractive tanned male employee wearing swim trunks and little else. Orlando didn’t mind so much, for there was often a need for an extra player and he liked the exercise.
It was about midway through July when Orlando was covering a dinner shift for a co-worker who had unexpectedly fallen ill with heatstroke. Personally, Orlando thought it was quite a coincidence that Rob happened to get sick on his girlfriend’s night off, but he didn’t say anything, figuring that he might one day need a similar favour. Instead, he dutifully showed up in the kitchen at five thirty, and prepared himself for a standard four- hour shift.
By nine ‘o clock, the dining room was fairly empty, and Orlando was happy to be done with the stress of the evening rush. He was somewhat surprised, then, to find a late diner show up, settling alone at a corner table. He hadn’t seen the man before, and it was highly unusual for patrons to dine alone, as almost everyone was there with a spouse and/or children, or at least a group of co-workers, and the few businessmen who did come alone would generally dine in groups with others like themselves.
This man, however, looked like he had just hopped the train from New York, still dressed in a dark blue suit and tie rather than the usual board shorts and polo shirt combo. Orlando smiled as he approached the table, as this would surely be an easy customer.
“Good evening, sir. My name is Orlando and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Can I get you something to drink to start off?”
The man smiled broadly, perusing the wine list quickly and selecting a Chardonnay. “Excellent choice, sir,” Orlando complimented, noting the Scottish accent and wondering what the hell this guy was doing in Massachusetts. “And can I interest you in a starter?”
“No thank you,” the man declined. “Just the chicken dish, please, with a ceasar salad.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll have your wine out right away.”
“Cheers… and it’s Billy, mate. I get enough of this ‘sir’ shite in the boardroom, yeah?” Orlando smiled broadly at Billy’s causal nature and nodded, walking the first few steps from the table backwards before turning around to avoid collision with the rest of the wait staff or an unfortunately placed table. Orlando didn’t want to relive his embarrassing loss of control over a plate of tiramisu the previous evening, and was only too glad that the woman who had ordered it decided that she’d prefer the vanilla ice cream after all.
After twenty minutes, the dining room had all but cleared out, and Billy was the only diner who remained, finishing off his chicken. Still, Orlando was quite surprised when, noticing the lack of customers when he came to refill Billy’s water glass, the businessman gestured for him to sit.
“Um, I’m afraid that’s not really…”
“… in accordance with policy?” Billy asked, a smile bringing out the thin lines around his eyes that were more endearing than unattractive. “It’s okay, mate. I just want some company, and the customer’s always right, yeah?”
Orlando smiled and, admitting defeat, set his water pitcher on a nearby table and took the seat opposite Billy. “So are you enjoying your stay so far?”
“It’s tolerable,” Billy agreed, shrugging his shoulders. “A co-worker suggested the place to recharge the batteries, so to speak. I must say I personally find the three weeks allotted holiday time absolutely criminal, but I’m only a junior vice president, so I take what I can get, and I’m spending two of them here.”
Orlando smiled and nodded. “I really don’t understand the American system either, but our customers give overwhelmingly positive feedback about their time here. I’m sure you won’t regret it.”
Billy smiled and held Orlando’s gaze with a small smile. “I’m sure I won’t, either… now.”
Orlando blushed, almost certain that he was taking the man’s comment the wrong way, but Billy didn’t seem phased. “So what do you do after this?” Billy asked. “Have the night off?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I’m only covering a shift for a friend, actually, so I’ll be working the concierge desk from 10 to 3,” he explained.
“Ah, I see. And what does one do at the concierge desk?” Billy asked.
“Answer calls from visitors, make sure they have everything they need.”
“Everything?” Billy asked, letting the pause hang heavily in the air. Orlando just gulped, willing himself not to respond as he normally would. Can’t flirt like you’re back on the West End, he chided himself mentally, schooling his features.
“Anything the customers request. We have a full DVD library, books, CDs, board games… we can also provide information and take care of any problems with the rooms.”
“Ah. Is that all?” Billy asked, a sparkle in his eye that Orlando didn’t want to try to identify.
“Well… actually, I…. well it’s not an often-requested service, but I am technically trained as a masseuse. It’s listed in the brochure, and occasionally someone will request a massage to help them relax at night.”
“I see,” Billy replied with a smile. “And you’re the only one trained to do this?”
“Well no, there are a few of us. Everyone on the staff learns a speciality during training.”
“Okay… what about tonight, though? Anyone else working at the desk who can give a massage?”
“Well… no,” Orlando admitted, starting to get an inkling of what Billy was getting at. The other man just smiled, however, giving nothing away, and took his last bite of rice.
“Excellent. I think I’m ready for my check then, Orlando.”
“Oh… of course.” Orlando hurried back towards the kitchen, willing the redness out of his face, and wondering how hard it was going to be to banish the image of sparkling green eyes and a kind, inviting smile from his mind tonight.
“Hey Orlando, someone asking for a massage in 214.” Orlando sighed as Sophie put the phone back in its cradle, having almost managed to banish the thoughts of earlier in the evening, now that it was almost midnight. Checking the roster, he found the name-Mr. William Boyd-and his suspicions were confirmed. There might be a number of clients name Billy or William staying at the resort, of course, but he had a feeling about this one. And so, with a dramatic sigh, he grabbed the folded massage table and bag of oils and left the main office, heading across the grounds to a cabin just on the woods’ edge.
After a few knocks, the man from earlier answered, wearing a pair of shorts and a wide grin. It took everything Orlando had to keep his eyes focused on Billy’s face as he ushered him inside, and had to remind himself not to react to the height difference or the rush of power he got from standing over the older man. It’s only an illusion, he reminded himself. He’s holding all the cards. And so Orlando was completely the consummate professional as he set the table up in the centre of the living area, unzipped his bag, and instructed Billy to lie on his stomach.
Orlando warmed a palm full of oil in his hands before applying it, letting the familiarity of practiced actions soothe his mind and calm his body, leaning into Billy’s back with nearly his full strength once he had sufficiently warmed the muscles. This wasn’t any different, he reminded himself, than a million other encounters-it wasn’t, after all, like wealthy women hadn’t invited him in as a masseur, hoping for a more illicit encounter while their husbands were off drinking and playing cards. He had always politely declined their offers or feigned innocence, but then there was a fundamental difference. Those were women. Would he really be able to stay as calm and professional if Billy were to continue his advances past a very subtle flirting? Orlando had no idea.
“So, what do you do during the year?” Billy mumbled in a relaxed and sleepy-sounding brogue as Orlando’s hands dug into his back, startling Orlando out of his thoughts.
“I… I’m an actor. Or, well, I’m in drama school, rather.”
“Ah, that sounds nice. I always enjoyed the theatre.”
“Really?” Orlando replied with a smile. “Who’s your favourite playwright?” he asked, hoping to call the other man out.
Billy, however, just smiled and considered. “I’d have to say Albee or Wilde. Though if I’m pretending to be a true patriot my answer is J.M. Barrie.”
Orlando laughed, and internally congratulated Billy for passing the first test. “Well I’m not one to talk. My favourite playwright is an American.”
Billy gasped dramatically, and Orlando just laughed louder. “You don’t say? Scandal! And which American, pray tell, is so lucky to earn your artistic affection?”
Orlando smiled at the phrasing. “Tennesse Williams,” he admitted, and Billy smiled.
“A brilliant man, I’ll agree.”
“Are you serious, though?” Orlando asked, working the delicate cords of Billy’s neck. “J.M. Barrie?”
“Yes, Orlando, I admit I have a penchant for women dressing as young men parading in tights,” Billy replied with a comically dry tone. “But honestly, I’m a sucker for a good fairytale. Don’t you think?”
“Hmm, maybe. I never much fancied myself a heroic prince, though.”
“No?”
“I think the princesses got it better off,” Orlando answered honestly. “I mean come on. You just wait around in a castle for twenty years or so, possibly take an extended nap or grow your hair really long, and then this guy shows up and kisses you, and boom! Happily ever after. Sounds appealing.”
Billy laughed. “I suppose if you put it that way… so have you met your fairy prince yet, then?” he asked, and Orlando sucked in a breath at the implication.
“Not quite yet,” he admitted, not quite brave enough to look for Billy’s expression.
“Ah, shame, that. Though I must admit to feeling a perverse pleasure in your own misfortunes, for I too have not yet captured the heart of a suitable young prince,” Billy admitted in a teasing tone. Orlando just inhaled, slowly, and willed himself not to react.
“Um, I don’t think… well, I mean…”
“Let me guess? You’re on duty,” Billy predicted, sighing as Orlando pressed into a particularly tense knot.
“Yes,” Orlando replied automatically.
“Well, you did say your job was to provide anything the customer desires…” Billy teased, but Orlando just frowned.
“That’s not what I’m paid for, Mr. Boyd,” Orlando replied in a clinical tone, and Billy just sighed, flipping over and forcing Orlando to end his attentions as Billy propped himself up on his elbows on the table.
“Orlando, please. That came out wrong… I only meant, well, I would like to see you again. I understand that I may be difficult to trust when you know my happiness could affect your career, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say I never yield my influence towards such purposes.”
“I…”
“Wait! Don’t answer. Come back… when you’re not on duty, okay? It’s your call, but I’d really like to see you again, on your own terms.”
“Well…”
“Look, I’ll leave it up to you. Are you working after dinner tomorrow night?” Orlando shook his head. “Okay, perfect. I’ll be in my room after nine. Your choice; don’t come if you don’t want to. But I’ll be here.”
The next day, Orlando tended to all his duties with almost clinical precision. Fortunately, the Gods smiled upon him and did not place Billy at his table during any of the days’ three meals, and in-between times he was busy helping stock the kitchen from the morning’s delivery and resetting the tables. Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t think about the Scottish businessman at any opportunity.
At breakfast, Orlando was happy to note that Billy had shed his highly out-of-place business suit for a pair of cream coloured linen pants and a light yellow short-sleeved button up that contrasted well with the green gleam of his eyes. He also noted, that despite the fact that he was waiting on a table only a few feet away from Billy at lunch, he was being studiously ignored by the other man. He supposed this was a good thing, as Billy seemed to be trying to give him space while working, but he couldn’t deny that he missed the flirtations from the previous day, and he desperately wanted to see the corners of that cute little mouth tug up into a grin.
By dinner, it was hopeless.
Orlando had made up his mind; despite the fact that it might be grounds for getting him fired, he was going to sneak off to Billy’s cabin tonight and at least see what exactly the man was after. As soon as he was able to finish up in the kitchen, he clocked out and rushed to his own staff cabin, hurriedly unknotting the stiff black bowtie and shucking the white jacket with tails that he was required to wear when serving. He was thankful that Dominic was working tonight, as he wouldn’t have to explain his exuberant behaviour to his friend and cabin mate, but also didn’t want to appear to eager by showing up as soon as his shift had ended. No, he reasoned with himself. You’re off the clock now, and if you want this guy you’re going to make him wait like you would any bloke. Make him sweat a little.
Orlando grinned at his reflection in the mirror as he undid his cuffs, feeling much more comfortable in his familiar role as the seducer than as a bumbling waiter being flirted with by a confident (and admittedly attractive) patron. After all, London drama school had given Orlando plenty of time to hone his skills in this particular area, and he was by no means unappealing. He was happy to note that he was even a bit improved this summer as he removed his crisp cotton shirt and revealed tanned musculature underneath. The sun served only to highlight a natural olive complexion, his dark brown curls also streaked with almost red highlights from the exposure, and his active lifestyle kept him trim but still well-built, his arm muscles defined from lifting heavy trays. Yes, he decided as he removed his trousers and stepped underneath the steamy spray of the shower, Billy wasn’t going to know what hit him. And if someone found out about this, well, at least he could get a great lay out of the loss of a job.
It was after eleven by the time Orlando finally found himself standing on Billy’s porch again, rapping lightly on the door dressed in black jeans and a navy blue button-down shirt. His hair, as usual, was completely untameable, so he just wet-combed it, undeterred, and let it hang loose, spraying on a bit of cologne for good measure. When he heard footsteps from inside the door, he stepped back a bit and adopted his best casual seduction pose, leaning against a post with one foot propped up behind him, best sexy smile prepared to dazzle…
And almost fell over.
Billy, dressed in a black button-down, casually unbuttoned halfway down and paired with a pair of grey slacks, was the true definition of the phrase “dressed to kill.” His eyes flashed with a smouldering look that was clearly meant as a challenge to Orlando’s attempt, and he had to admit, as he pushed off the post and stepped forward as nonchalantly as possible, that he had lost this round.
“Mr. Boyd,” he stated with a slight smile, extending a hand.
Billy just stared at him a moment, grabbed the proffered hand, and expertly swung Orlando in a wide arc that just barely missed the doorframe, essentially throwing him inside and stalking after him as gracefully as a tiger, pinning the taller man effectively to the opposite wall as he kicked the door behind him.
“Didn’t I tell you yesterday to cut this ‘Mister’ shite? It’s Billy, mate.” Orlando just raised an eyebrow, unmoving, trapped against the wall by the slighter man and not entirely sure of how to react.
“Well, Billy. Nice to see you again, then,” he finally replied with a sarcastic smirk.
Billy just smiled and stood on his toes, placing his lips just against Orlando’s left earlobe and exhaling in a long, calculated breath. “Charmed.”
Orlando took a deep breath as Billy pushed off the wall and led the way inside the cabin, as casual as if he were inviting a mate over to tea. Shaking his head to compose himself, Orlando followed, and found himself sitting next to Billy on the couch, gratefully taking the glass of Scotch that was held out for him and indulging in a long swallow.
“So, Billy. That was quite a move back there,” Orlando commented with a raised eyebrow, waving vaguely towards the door.
Billy laughed lightly, his eyes crinkling slightly around the corners when he did show, and Orlando found himself already calculating ways to hear that laugh again. “Martial arts, mate. I’m a little guy; thought being able to defend myself could come in handy one day.”
“Yeah well, what did I ever do to you?” Orlando asked with a wry smile, taking a more polite sip of his Scotch this time.
“You threw me off,” Billy answered honestly, leaning comfortably back against the cushions and swirling the liquid around in his glass.
“Threw you off?”
“You’re quite a disarming man, Orlando. I was quite expecting a relaxing, rejuvenating, and perfectly boring holiday,” he admitted with a knowing smile, prompting Orlando’s laughter in return. “And here you are. Throwing my plans off entirely,” Billy explained with a shrug.
Orlando just laughed louder, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he did so. “Well my greatest apologies, mate. But to be fair, you know, I think I could be quite relaxing,” he replied, shifting easily back into his seductive role, setting his glass down on the coffee table and sliding effortlessly across the couch to show Billy just how disarming he could be. And found himself promptly flat on his back, a hundred and thirty pounds of laughing Scotsman atop him.
“You just never learn, do you?” Billy commented, shaking his head. “I’m not a quivering girl, Orlando,” he whispered, the deep, rumbling tone against his ear making Orlando wonder if that wasn’t to be his role as he tried to suppress a full-body shiver. “I’m not even a quivering twink, or whatever else it is that you’re used to picking up in London, so you may as well quit trying. I’m a thirty-six year old successful businessman. I’m even Catholic.”
Orlando laughed at this last admission and tried to wriggle slightly under Billy, finding it near impossible and giving up as quickly as he had begun. “Not very Catholic of you then, Boyd. Straddling a strange man in your summer resort cabin. Downright scandalous, that,” he commented with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Billy just smiled, combing a hand through Orlando’s curls as the other rested affectionately again Orlando’s cheek. “I believe it was your precious Tennessee Williams who said ‘Life is all memory, except the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going.’ No sense in being repressed now if I can collect some lovely memories to reflect on in my conservative old age, is there, love?”
Orlando shivered as Billy bent and spontaneously nipped at his earlobe, sighing in spite of himself and then suddenly regaining his senses as he considered the position he currently found himself in. Oh, what Dominic would say.
“Well I’m not a quivering twink either, love,” Orlando growled with resolve, reaching up to get a firm grip on the back of Billy’s neck and tugging him down for a long, feral kiss. And to his absolute disgust, when Billy pulled away, he was laughing.
“I do love a man who fights back. Quite a lot, actually,” Billy mused, rolling his hips almost absently to demonstrate his point.
Orlando growled, getting the distinct impression that he was not being taken seriously, and used the opportunity to flip Billy over, letting him land on the floor with a thud and then lowering himself to the floor a bit more languidly, reversing their positions as he straddled Billy’s slim hips and pulled his upper body up a few inches off the floor with a fistful of shirt. “Well that’s what you’re going to get,” he growled, his next kiss almost savage, pulling fiercely at Billy’s lower lip with his teeth.
And again, Billy was just laughing. Laughing at him. The fucker!
“You are so…fucking…infuriating,” Orlando bit out as he lowered Billy back to the floor, speaking only between increasingly hot kisses. “Stop…fucking…laughing at me!”
And then, just as suddenly, Orlando found himself flipped again, Billy’s eyes flaming and not a trace of laughter in them. In fact, he looked downright fucking evil. “I’m either laughing at yeh, love…” Billy paused, taking the sides of Orlando’s shirt in his hands, and yanked them soundly apart, sending buttons flying. “…or I’m taking yeh,” he growled, leaning back down to claim Orlando’s mouth once again, his hands firmly holding Orlando’s head in place as he took exactly what he wanted.
“You fucker!” Orlando repeated, helplessly, when Billy pulled up for air. “I liked that shirt!”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” Billy growled, evidently not giving a shit, his thumbs reaching between them to rub firm circles against Orlando’s nipples as he reclaimed the other man’s mouth. And, to Orlando’s utter disgust, he found himself actually moaning into Billy’s lips at that move. Orlando Bloom, he reminded himself in a very angry mental voice, does not moan.
“Fucker,” he growled, surging forward and knocking Billy flat on his ass, straddling him again and holding onto his shirt for balance as he delivered another searing kiss, determined to dominate the exchange.
They continued in such a manner for several minutes, thoroughly demolishing both their outfits before both were standing at the foot of the bed, eyes flashing, practically growling at each other in rage and lust. Frankly, Orlando had never been so hot in his life.
“You know what I think?” Billy suggested, his voice low and angry. “I think you’re not cooperating because I haven’t properly convinced you of the mutual benefits of this situation.”
“Yeah? Not a very good businessman are you, then?” Orlando smirked. Billy’s eyes flashed at that response, and then, before Orlando really had a chance to think about what was going on, he found himself pressed face first against the bed, one arm twisted behind his back and his right cheek held against the mattress by Billy’s firm grip.
“No, Orlando. I’m one of the best,” Billy growled out, his erection grinding shamelessly against the crack of Orlando’s arse. “Give me a go, lad. Let me sell you on this one,” Billy suggested, only his tone of voice belying the casual nature of his words.
“Give it your best shot,” Orlando bit out, squirming against the hold he couldn’t seem to break out of until Billy twisted his arm a bit harder, warning him that struggle would be a bad idea at this juncture.
“Well first, lad, I’d like to take you, right here, against the foot of the bed like this. It’d feel nice, wouldn’t it, your cock rubbing up against the mattress like that, my hands on your hips, my cock buried balls deep in your arse?” Orlando let out a shuddering breath, trying not to lose control of the situation. The words alone weren’t really enough to convince him, but Billy’s accent growling out such naughty suggestions did beautiful things to his cock while the older man’s erection dragged luridly between Orlando’s arse cheeks. “You want to know what I’ll do next, lad?” Orlando simply growled, and Billy pressed his face slightly harder into the mattress, licking a long stripe up his spine. “After I’m done fucking you, I think I’ll give you a few minutes to recover, and then I’ll suck you off until you’re so hard again that you can barely breathe on your own. And then, if you’re really good, love, I’ll ride you like a fucking stallion,” he growled, drawing a hard gasp from Orlando as his hips jerked forward of their own accord. Billy riding him, his cock nestled between those pert little arse cheeks… oh God. “Sound good to you, love?”
In spite of himself, Orlando nodded, and he could practically feel Billy’s grin as the older man bent down to retrieve a condom from his discarded trousers. “I’ll admit, I didn’t exactly expect my holiday to turn out like this,” Billy mumbled as he distributed an even trail of love bites down Orlando’s back. “But I suppose my lack of preparedness translates to a bonus for you,” he mused, sinking to his knees on the carpet and suddenly parting Orlando’s arse cheeks with his thumbs, stabbing his tongue inside without preamble.
“Oh, fuck!” Orlando cried, hoping belatedly that no one in the surrounding cabins heard that. “Oh… oh God, Billy. Please keep doing that,” he added in a quieter tone, only slightly embarrassed that he had been reduced to such a state of begging after all the attempted bravado. Hell, he’d beg for days on end if only Billy would keep licking him like that.
“Okay, lad, I think you’re ready enough,” Billy growled after a minute, rising up to his feet again and stroking his cock a few times before rolling the condom on and lining up. “Brace yourself,” he added, and Orlando rolled his eyes at Billy’s ego before the older man held his cheeks open again and rammed into him in a single thrust.
“Fuck!” he yelled, driven almost all the way up onto the mattress, and Billy just chuckled as Orlando took his advice and righted himself, grasping the sides of the mattress with both hands as Billy continued to angle his thrusts deep and long.
“Told you,” Billy whispered, but Orlando wasn’t too annoyed as the Scot’s tongue dipped into his ear and both hands clutched his hips as promised, hard enough to bruise but blessedly stabilising.
Both men had been considerably aroused by the evening’s previous events, and so it wasn’t long before Orlando found himself coming hard against the duvet, the friction against the mattress too much to hold out against. Billy was only a few strokes behind him, releasing with a grunt and a deep bite into Orlando’s shoulder that he might have minded had he not been so thoroughly well-fucked.
True to his word, Billy gave Orlando a suitable amount of time to recover, spooning up behind him in silence on the big bed. Once that recovery period had passed, however, Orlando quickly found a hand slipping down his hip and wrapping deftly around his now-soft organ, eliciting a low moan as it gently began to stroke him to life again, sliding his foreskin almost lazily back and forth as Billy’s lips attached firmly to his neck.
“Bloody vampire,” Orlando muttered, and Billy just laughed against his neck.
“Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is redu…. oh, fuck!” Orlando cried as Billy slipped down his body and simultaneously pushed him by one hip to lie on his back while swallowing his half-hard cock in one go. The organ quickly began to pulse in its approval of this move, and Billy smiled against it as his head began to bob up and down, catching Orlando’s eye and keeping his lover’s gaze as he continued his ministrations. Orlando gasped when Billy chose to roll each of his bollocks around with his tongue and lips, a move that few lovers had tried on him but one that he enjoyed immensely. Grinning widely, Billy moved to lick a firm stroke across Orlando’s perineum before returning to his cock, licking lazily up and down with his eyes still on Orlando’s, stopping a moment to suck tightly on the head before laying off again.
“Oh fuck, Billy… please… you’ve got to ride me, mate. Please…” Billy smiled as he dove back down on Orlando’s cock, sucking enthusiastically for a few more moments before he finally gave into Orlando’s litany of pleas, not wanting the party to be over before it had started.
Orlando just groaned as Billy first rolled the condom over his length, then raised up on his knees to reach under himself with fingers moistened by a swipe through his own pre come. Billy fucked himself eagerly onto his fingers for a few minutes, stretching the tissue as far as he could, and then, when Orlando thought he could truly take no more teasing, lowered himself slowly onto Orlando’s cock, throwing his head back and letting out a long moan.
“Oh, fuck… that’s just it, love, oh that’s the ticket…. fuck me, God…”
Orlando grinned as the other man proved himself just as capable of losing control, and reached out to take a hold of Billy’s hips, guiding his movements as Billy rode his cock first slowly, then at an increasingly frenzied pace. As they both neared orgasm, Billy reached back to put his hands on the mattress behind him, arching his back to display himself in a particularly erotic manner to Orlando’s eyes, pale chest stretching as it heaved with exertion, red cock slapping lewdly against Billy’s stomach. Mercifully, Orlando allowed one hand to stray to this organ as he felt his own orgasm becoming increasingly inevitable, and brought Billy off with a few quick, hard strokes, earning a yelp from the older man as he came all over Orlando’s slender fingers. Again, Orlando was fast behind him, and when Billy had lifted off of him, quickly discarded the used condom before raising his hand to his mouth, slowly licking the evidence of Billy’s release from his fingers.
“Jesus fuck,” Billy breathed, watching the younger man with slow-to-dissipate desire reflecting in his eyes, his hands absently stroking Orlando’s hip as he curled up next to him. “Mighty trusting, you are,” he commented, and Orlando just shrugged, pulling him into his arms.
“You clean?”
“Yeah.”
“Well then there you go. I figured if you weren’t, you’d stop me. You seem like the trustworthy type, Mr. Boyd.” Billy just rolled his eyes and pulled Orlando to his chest, pulling a blanket up over them both.
“Think you can risk spending the night?” Billy asked, his voice quickly becoming laced with tones of sleep.
“Yeah. I’ll risk it,” Orlando affirmed, placing a quick kiss to Billy’s forehead. Yeah, Dominic was going to let him hear it in the morning, but this was worth it. Well worth it.
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Pairing: BB/OB
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: So fiction. So fun.
Feedback: The icing on my proverbial tiramisu.
Response to the following: Summer romance (AU or not) [Request by mod_journal]
Summary: I was all too happy to be able to fulfil a request for our lovely moderator, and this idea just screamed modern day “Dirty Dancing” to me, so here it is, minus Patrick Swayze and plus lots of boy lovin’!
It wasn’t a bad summer job. Preparing for his last year at Guildhall, Orlando needed to make a little extra money before he would be stuck on the streets as a “real world” actor, a profession that wasn’t exactly lucrative. When a friend had told him about the American resort catering to the country club set, he was a little unsure, but then he saw the figure he could make just from waiting tables in the resort restaurant and serving as a concierge when meals weren’t being served. It was more than enough to cover his plane ticket from Heathrow and back, plus a substantial amount to put away. Not to mention the fact that he’d be working with his good friend Dominic for the summer, and Dom had told him that some of the rich female patrons were only too willing to dole out generous tips to a “precious” British waiter with such a “precious” accent.
Orlando had almost smirked in a woman’s face the first time he actually heard that comment, but he soon learned to swallow his amusement when his good looks and charm actually did tend to earn sizeable tips from the patrons, mainly well-off businessmen and their wives. The Massachusetts summer was a bit warmer than what Orlando was used to, but the sun was a welcome element, and during his off time Orlando loved to shuck the white suit he wore while working and cool off in the lake or enjoy a game of volleyball with the patrons. Staff-patron intermingling was encouraged to some level, especially when it involved those incessant wives, always too happy to watch their husbands play a sport with an attractive tanned male employee wearing swim trunks and little else. Orlando didn’t mind so much, for there was often a need for an extra player and he liked the exercise.
It was about midway through July when Orlando was covering a dinner shift for a co-worker who had unexpectedly fallen ill with heatstroke. Personally, Orlando thought it was quite a coincidence that Rob happened to get sick on his girlfriend’s night off, but he didn’t say anything, figuring that he might one day need a similar favour. Instead, he dutifully showed up in the kitchen at five thirty, and prepared himself for a standard four- hour shift.
By nine ‘o clock, the dining room was fairly empty, and Orlando was happy to be done with the stress of the evening rush. He was somewhat surprised, then, to find a late diner show up, settling alone at a corner table. He hadn’t seen the man before, and it was highly unusual for patrons to dine alone, as almost everyone was there with a spouse and/or children, or at least a group of co-workers, and the few businessmen who did come alone would generally dine in groups with others like themselves.
This man, however, looked like he had just hopped the train from New York, still dressed in a dark blue suit and tie rather than the usual board shorts and polo shirt combo. Orlando smiled as he approached the table, as this would surely be an easy customer.
“Good evening, sir. My name is Orlando and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Can I get you something to drink to start off?”
The man smiled broadly, perusing the wine list quickly and selecting a Chardonnay. “Excellent choice, sir,” Orlando complimented, noting the Scottish accent and wondering what the hell this guy was doing in Massachusetts. “And can I interest you in a starter?”
“No thank you,” the man declined. “Just the chicken dish, please, with a ceasar salad.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll have your wine out right away.”
“Cheers… and it’s Billy, mate. I get enough of this ‘sir’ shite in the boardroom, yeah?” Orlando smiled broadly at Billy’s causal nature and nodded, walking the first few steps from the table backwards before turning around to avoid collision with the rest of the wait staff or an unfortunately placed table. Orlando didn’t want to relive his embarrassing loss of control over a plate of tiramisu the previous evening, and was only too glad that the woman who had ordered it decided that she’d prefer the vanilla ice cream after all.
After twenty minutes, the dining room had all but cleared out, and Billy was the only diner who remained, finishing off his chicken. Still, Orlando was quite surprised when, noticing the lack of customers when he came to refill Billy’s water glass, the businessman gestured for him to sit.
“Um, I’m afraid that’s not really…”
“… in accordance with policy?” Billy asked, a smile bringing out the thin lines around his eyes that were more endearing than unattractive. “It’s okay, mate. I just want some company, and the customer’s always right, yeah?”
Orlando smiled and, admitting defeat, set his water pitcher on a nearby table and took the seat opposite Billy. “So are you enjoying your stay so far?”
“It’s tolerable,” Billy agreed, shrugging his shoulders. “A co-worker suggested the place to recharge the batteries, so to speak. I must say I personally find the three weeks allotted holiday time absolutely criminal, but I’m only a junior vice president, so I take what I can get, and I’m spending two of them here.”
Orlando smiled and nodded. “I really don’t understand the American system either, but our customers give overwhelmingly positive feedback about their time here. I’m sure you won’t regret it.”
Billy smiled and held Orlando’s gaze with a small smile. “I’m sure I won’t, either… now.”
Orlando blushed, almost certain that he was taking the man’s comment the wrong way, but Billy didn’t seem phased. “So what do you do after this?” Billy asked. “Have the night off?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I’m only covering a shift for a friend, actually, so I’ll be working the concierge desk from 10 to 3,” he explained.
“Ah, I see. And what does one do at the concierge desk?” Billy asked.
“Answer calls from visitors, make sure they have everything they need.”
“Everything?” Billy asked, letting the pause hang heavily in the air. Orlando just gulped, willing himself not to respond as he normally would. Can’t flirt like you’re back on the West End, he chided himself mentally, schooling his features.
“Anything the customers request. We have a full DVD library, books, CDs, board games… we can also provide information and take care of any problems with the rooms.”
“Ah. Is that all?” Billy asked, a sparkle in his eye that Orlando didn’t want to try to identify.
“Well… actually, I…. well it’s not an often-requested service, but I am technically trained as a masseuse. It’s listed in the brochure, and occasionally someone will request a massage to help them relax at night.”
“I see,” Billy replied with a smile. “And you’re the only one trained to do this?”
“Well no, there are a few of us. Everyone on the staff learns a speciality during training.”
“Okay… what about tonight, though? Anyone else working at the desk who can give a massage?”
“Well… no,” Orlando admitted, starting to get an inkling of what Billy was getting at. The other man just smiled, however, giving nothing away, and took his last bite of rice.
“Excellent. I think I’m ready for my check then, Orlando.”
“Oh… of course.” Orlando hurried back towards the kitchen, willing the redness out of his face, and wondering how hard it was going to be to banish the image of sparkling green eyes and a kind, inviting smile from his mind tonight.
“Hey Orlando, someone asking for a massage in 214.” Orlando sighed as Sophie put the phone back in its cradle, having almost managed to banish the thoughts of earlier in the evening, now that it was almost midnight. Checking the roster, he found the name-Mr. William Boyd-and his suspicions were confirmed. There might be a number of clients name Billy or William staying at the resort, of course, but he had a feeling about this one. And so, with a dramatic sigh, he grabbed the folded massage table and bag of oils and left the main office, heading across the grounds to a cabin just on the woods’ edge.
After a few knocks, the man from earlier answered, wearing a pair of shorts and a wide grin. It took everything Orlando had to keep his eyes focused on Billy’s face as he ushered him inside, and had to remind himself not to react to the height difference or the rush of power he got from standing over the older man. It’s only an illusion, he reminded himself. He’s holding all the cards. And so Orlando was completely the consummate professional as he set the table up in the centre of the living area, unzipped his bag, and instructed Billy to lie on his stomach.
Orlando warmed a palm full of oil in his hands before applying it, letting the familiarity of practiced actions soothe his mind and calm his body, leaning into Billy’s back with nearly his full strength once he had sufficiently warmed the muscles. This wasn’t any different, he reminded himself, than a million other encounters-it wasn’t, after all, like wealthy women hadn’t invited him in as a masseur, hoping for a more illicit encounter while their husbands were off drinking and playing cards. He had always politely declined their offers or feigned innocence, but then there was a fundamental difference. Those were women. Would he really be able to stay as calm and professional if Billy were to continue his advances past a very subtle flirting? Orlando had no idea.
“So, what do you do during the year?” Billy mumbled in a relaxed and sleepy-sounding brogue as Orlando’s hands dug into his back, startling Orlando out of his thoughts.
“I… I’m an actor. Or, well, I’m in drama school, rather.”
“Ah, that sounds nice. I always enjoyed the theatre.”
“Really?” Orlando replied with a smile. “Who’s your favourite playwright?” he asked, hoping to call the other man out.
Billy, however, just smiled and considered. “I’d have to say Albee or Wilde. Though if I’m pretending to be a true patriot my answer is J.M. Barrie.”
Orlando laughed, and internally congratulated Billy for passing the first test. “Well I’m not one to talk. My favourite playwright is an American.”
Billy gasped dramatically, and Orlando just laughed louder. “You don’t say? Scandal! And which American, pray tell, is so lucky to earn your artistic affection?”
Orlando smiled at the phrasing. “Tennesse Williams,” he admitted, and Billy smiled.
“A brilliant man, I’ll agree.”
“Are you serious, though?” Orlando asked, working the delicate cords of Billy’s neck. “J.M. Barrie?”
“Yes, Orlando, I admit I have a penchant for women dressing as young men parading in tights,” Billy replied with a comically dry tone. “But honestly, I’m a sucker for a good fairytale. Don’t you think?”
“Hmm, maybe. I never much fancied myself a heroic prince, though.”
“No?”
“I think the princesses got it better off,” Orlando answered honestly. “I mean come on. You just wait around in a castle for twenty years or so, possibly take an extended nap or grow your hair really long, and then this guy shows up and kisses you, and boom! Happily ever after. Sounds appealing.”
Billy laughed. “I suppose if you put it that way… so have you met your fairy prince yet, then?” he asked, and Orlando sucked in a breath at the implication.
“Not quite yet,” he admitted, not quite brave enough to look for Billy’s expression.
“Ah, shame, that. Though I must admit to feeling a perverse pleasure in your own misfortunes, for I too have not yet captured the heart of a suitable young prince,” Billy admitted in a teasing tone. Orlando just inhaled, slowly, and willed himself not to react.
“Um, I don’t think… well, I mean…”
“Let me guess? You’re on duty,” Billy predicted, sighing as Orlando pressed into a particularly tense knot.
“Yes,” Orlando replied automatically.
“Well, you did say your job was to provide anything the customer desires…” Billy teased, but Orlando just frowned.
“That’s not what I’m paid for, Mr. Boyd,” Orlando replied in a clinical tone, and Billy just sighed, flipping over and forcing Orlando to end his attentions as Billy propped himself up on his elbows on the table.
“Orlando, please. That came out wrong… I only meant, well, I would like to see you again. I understand that I may be difficult to trust when you know my happiness could affect your career, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say I never yield my influence towards such purposes.”
“I…”
“Wait! Don’t answer. Come back… when you’re not on duty, okay? It’s your call, but I’d really like to see you again, on your own terms.”
“Well…”
“Look, I’ll leave it up to you. Are you working after dinner tomorrow night?” Orlando shook his head. “Okay, perfect. I’ll be in my room after nine. Your choice; don’t come if you don’t want to. But I’ll be here.”
The next day, Orlando tended to all his duties with almost clinical precision. Fortunately, the Gods smiled upon him and did not place Billy at his table during any of the days’ three meals, and in-between times he was busy helping stock the kitchen from the morning’s delivery and resetting the tables. Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t think about the Scottish businessman at any opportunity.
At breakfast, Orlando was happy to note that Billy had shed his highly out-of-place business suit for a pair of cream coloured linen pants and a light yellow short-sleeved button up that contrasted well with the green gleam of his eyes. He also noted, that despite the fact that he was waiting on a table only a few feet away from Billy at lunch, he was being studiously ignored by the other man. He supposed this was a good thing, as Billy seemed to be trying to give him space while working, but he couldn’t deny that he missed the flirtations from the previous day, and he desperately wanted to see the corners of that cute little mouth tug up into a grin.
By dinner, it was hopeless.
Orlando had made up his mind; despite the fact that it might be grounds for getting him fired, he was going to sneak off to Billy’s cabin tonight and at least see what exactly the man was after. As soon as he was able to finish up in the kitchen, he clocked out and rushed to his own staff cabin, hurriedly unknotting the stiff black bowtie and shucking the white jacket with tails that he was required to wear when serving. He was thankful that Dominic was working tonight, as he wouldn’t have to explain his exuberant behaviour to his friend and cabin mate, but also didn’t want to appear to eager by showing up as soon as his shift had ended. No, he reasoned with himself. You’re off the clock now, and if you want this guy you’re going to make him wait like you would any bloke. Make him sweat a little.
Orlando grinned at his reflection in the mirror as he undid his cuffs, feeling much more comfortable in his familiar role as the seducer than as a bumbling waiter being flirted with by a confident (and admittedly attractive) patron. After all, London drama school had given Orlando plenty of time to hone his skills in this particular area, and he was by no means unappealing. He was happy to note that he was even a bit improved this summer as he removed his crisp cotton shirt and revealed tanned musculature underneath. The sun served only to highlight a natural olive complexion, his dark brown curls also streaked with almost red highlights from the exposure, and his active lifestyle kept him trim but still well-built, his arm muscles defined from lifting heavy trays. Yes, he decided as he removed his trousers and stepped underneath the steamy spray of the shower, Billy wasn’t going to know what hit him. And if someone found out about this, well, at least he could get a great lay out of the loss of a job.
It was after eleven by the time Orlando finally found himself standing on Billy’s porch again, rapping lightly on the door dressed in black jeans and a navy blue button-down shirt. His hair, as usual, was completely untameable, so he just wet-combed it, undeterred, and let it hang loose, spraying on a bit of cologne for good measure. When he heard footsteps from inside the door, he stepped back a bit and adopted his best casual seduction pose, leaning against a post with one foot propped up behind him, best sexy smile prepared to dazzle…
And almost fell over.
Billy, dressed in a black button-down, casually unbuttoned halfway down and paired with a pair of grey slacks, was the true definition of the phrase “dressed to kill.” His eyes flashed with a smouldering look that was clearly meant as a challenge to Orlando’s attempt, and he had to admit, as he pushed off the post and stepped forward as nonchalantly as possible, that he had lost this round.
“Mr. Boyd,” he stated with a slight smile, extending a hand.
Billy just stared at him a moment, grabbed the proffered hand, and expertly swung Orlando in a wide arc that just barely missed the doorframe, essentially throwing him inside and stalking after him as gracefully as a tiger, pinning the taller man effectively to the opposite wall as he kicked the door behind him.
“Didn’t I tell you yesterday to cut this ‘Mister’ shite? It’s Billy, mate.” Orlando just raised an eyebrow, unmoving, trapped against the wall by the slighter man and not entirely sure of how to react.
“Well, Billy. Nice to see you again, then,” he finally replied with a sarcastic smirk.
Billy just smiled and stood on his toes, placing his lips just against Orlando’s left earlobe and exhaling in a long, calculated breath. “Charmed.”
Orlando took a deep breath as Billy pushed off the wall and led the way inside the cabin, as casual as if he were inviting a mate over to tea. Shaking his head to compose himself, Orlando followed, and found himself sitting next to Billy on the couch, gratefully taking the glass of Scotch that was held out for him and indulging in a long swallow.
“So, Billy. That was quite a move back there,” Orlando commented with a raised eyebrow, waving vaguely towards the door.
Billy laughed lightly, his eyes crinkling slightly around the corners when he did show, and Orlando found himself already calculating ways to hear that laugh again. “Martial arts, mate. I’m a little guy; thought being able to defend myself could come in handy one day.”
“Yeah well, what did I ever do to you?” Orlando asked with a wry smile, taking a more polite sip of his Scotch this time.
“You threw me off,” Billy answered honestly, leaning comfortably back against the cushions and swirling the liquid around in his glass.
“Threw you off?”
“You’re quite a disarming man, Orlando. I was quite expecting a relaxing, rejuvenating, and perfectly boring holiday,” he admitted with a knowing smile, prompting Orlando’s laughter in return. “And here you are. Throwing my plans off entirely,” Billy explained with a shrug.
Orlando just laughed louder, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he did so. “Well my greatest apologies, mate. But to be fair, you know, I think I could be quite relaxing,” he replied, shifting easily back into his seductive role, setting his glass down on the coffee table and sliding effortlessly across the couch to show Billy just how disarming he could be. And found himself promptly flat on his back, a hundred and thirty pounds of laughing Scotsman atop him.
“You just never learn, do you?” Billy commented, shaking his head. “I’m not a quivering girl, Orlando,” he whispered, the deep, rumbling tone against his ear making Orlando wonder if that wasn’t to be his role as he tried to suppress a full-body shiver. “I’m not even a quivering twink, or whatever else it is that you’re used to picking up in London, so you may as well quit trying. I’m a thirty-six year old successful businessman. I’m even Catholic.”
Orlando laughed at this last admission and tried to wriggle slightly under Billy, finding it near impossible and giving up as quickly as he had begun. “Not very Catholic of you then, Boyd. Straddling a strange man in your summer resort cabin. Downright scandalous, that,” he commented with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Billy just smiled, combing a hand through Orlando’s curls as the other rested affectionately again Orlando’s cheek. “I believe it was your precious Tennessee Williams who said ‘Life is all memory, except the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going.’ No sense in being repressed now if I can collect some lovely memories to reflect on in my conservative old age, is there, love?”
Orlando shivered as Billy bent and spontaneously nipped at his earlobe, sighing in spite of himself and then suddenly regaining his senses as he considered the position he currently found himself in. Oh, what Dominic would say.
“Well I’m not a quivering twink either, love,” Orlando growled with resolve, reaching up to get a firm grip on the back of Billy’s neck and tugging him down for a long, feral kiss. And to his absolute disgust, when Billy pulled away, he was laughing.
“I do love a man who fights back. Quite a lot, actually,” Billy mused, rolling his hips almost absently to demonstrate his point.
Orlando growled, getting the distinct impression that he was not being taken seriously, and used the opportunity to flip Billy over, letting him land on the floor with a thud and then lowering himself to the floor a bit more languidly, reversing their positions as he straddled Billy’s slim hips and pulled his upper body up a few inches off the floor with a fistful of shirt. “Well that’s what you’re going to get,” he growled, his next kiss almost savage, pulling fiercely at Billy’s lower lip with his teeth.
And again, Billy was just laughing. Laughing at him. The fucker!
“You are so…fucking…infuriating,” Orlando bit out as he lowered Billy back to the floor, speaking only between increasingly hot kisses. “Stop…fucking…laughing at me!”
And then, just as suddenly, Orlando found himself flipped again, Billy’s eyes flaming and not a trace of laughter in them. In fact, he looked downright fucking evil. “I’m either laughing at yeh, love…” Billy paused, taking the sides of Orlando’s shirt in his hands, and yanked them soundly apart, sending buttons flying. “…or I’m taking yeh,” he growled, leaning back down to claim Orlando’s mouth once again, his hands firmly holding Orlando’s head in place as he took exactly what he wanted.
“You fucker!” Orlando repeated, helplessly, when Billy pulled up for air. “I liked that shirt!”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” Billy growled, evidently not giving a shit, his thumbs reaching between them to rub firm circles against Orlando’s nipples as he reclaimed the other man’s mouth. And, to Orlando’s utter disgust, he found himself actually moaning into Billy’s lips at that move. Orlando Bloom, he reminded himself in a very angry mental voice, does not moan.
“Fucker,” he growled, surging forward and knocking Billy flat on his ass, straddling him again and holding onto his shirt for balance as he delivered another searing kiss, determined to dominate the exchange.
They continued in such a manner for several minutes, thoroughly demolishing both their outfits before both were standing at the foot of the bed, eyes flashing, practically growling at each other in rage and lust. Frankly, Orlando had never been so hot in his life.
“You know what I think?” Billy suggested, his voice low and angry. “I think you’re not cooperating because I haven’t properly convinced you of the mutual benefits of this situation.”
“Yeah? Not a very good businessman are you, then?” Orlando smirked. Billy’s eyes flashed at that response, and then, before Orlando really had a chance to think about what was going on, he found himself pressed face first against the bed, one arm twisted behind his back and his right cheek held against the mattress by Billy’s firm grip.
“No, Orlando. I’m one of the best,” Billy growled out, his erection grinding shamelessly against the crack of Orlando’s arse. “Give me a go, lad. Let me sell you on this one,” Billy suggested, only his tone of voice belying the casual nature of his words.
“Give it your best shot,” Orlando bit out, squirming against the hold he couldn’t seem to break out of until Billy twisted his arm a bit harder, warning him that struggle would be a bad idea at this juncture.
“Well first, lad, I’d like to take you, right here, against the foot of the bed like this. It’d feel nice, wouldn’t it, your cock rubbing up against the mattress like that, my hands on your hips, my cock buried balls deep in your arse?” Orlando let out a shuddering breath, trying not to lose control of the situation. The words alone weren’t really enough to convince him, but Billy’s accent growling out such naughty suggestions did beautiful things to his cock while the older man’s erection dragged luridly between Orlando’s arse cheeks. “You want to know what I’ll do next, lad?” Orlando simply growled, and Billy pressed his face slightly harder into the mattress, licking a long stripe up his spine. “After I’m done fucking you, I think I’ll give you a few minutes to recover, and then I’ll suck you off until you’re so hard again that you can barely breathe on your own. And then, if you’re really good, love, I’ll ride you like a fucking stallion,” he growled, drawing a hard gasp from Orlando as his hips jerked forward of their own accord. Billy riding him, his cock nestled between those pert little arse cheeks… oh God. “Sound good to you, love?”
In spite of himself, Orlando nodded, and he could practically feel Billy’s grin as the older man bent down to retrieve a condom from his discarded trousers. “I’ll admit, I didn’t exactly expect my holiday to turn out like this,” Billy mumbled as he distributed an even trail of love bites down Orlando’s back. “But I suppose my lack of preparedness translates to a bonus for you,” he mused, sinking to his knees on the carpet and suddenly parting Orlando’s arse cheeks with his thumbs, stabbing his tongue inside without preamble.
“Oh, fuck!” Orlando cried, hoping belatedly that no one in the surrounding cabins heard that. “Oh… oh God, Billy. Please keep doing that,” he added in a quieter tone, only slightly embarrassed that he had been reduced to such a state of begging after all the attempted bravado. Hell, he’d beg for days on end if only Billy would keep licking him like that.
“Okay, lad, I think you’re ready enough,” Billy growled after a minute, rising up to his feet again and stroking his cock a few times before rolling the condom on and lining up. “Brace yourself,” he added, and Orlando rolled his eyes at Billy’s ego before the older man held his cheeks open again and rammed into him in a single thrust.
“Fuck!” he yelled, driven almost all the way up onto the mattress, and Billy just chuckled as Orlando took his advice and righted himself, grasping the sides of the mattress with both hands as Billy continued to angle his thrusts deep and long.
“Told you,” Billy whispered, but Orlando wasn’t too annoyed as the Scot’s tongue dipped into his ear and both hands clutched his hips as promised, hard enough to bruise but blessedly stabilising.
Both men had been considerably aroused by the evening’s previous events, and so it wasn’t long before Orlando found himself coming hard against the duvet, the friction against the mattress too much to hold out against. Billy was only a few strokes behind him, releasing with a grunt and a deep bite into Orlando’s shoulder that he might have minded had he not been so thoroughly well-fucked.
True to his word, Billy gave Orlando a suitable amount of time to recover, spooning up behind him in silence on the big bed. Once that recovery period had passed, however, Orlando quickly found a hand slipping down his hip and wrapping deftly around his now-soft organ, eliciting a low moan as it gently began to stroke him to life again, sliding his foreskin almost lazily back and forth as Billy’s lips attached firmly to his neck.
“Bloody vampire,” Orlando muttered, and Billy just laughed against his neck.
“Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is redu…. oh, fuck!” Orlando cried as Billy slipped down his body and simultaneously pushed him by one hip to lie on his back while swallowing his half-hard cock in one go. The organ quickly began to pulse in its approval of this move, and Billy smiled against it as his head began to bob up and down, catching Orlando’s eye and keeping his lover’s gaze as he continued his ministrations. Orlando gasped when Billy chose to roll each of his bollocks around with his tongue and lips, a move that few lovers had tried on him but one that he enjoyed immensely. Grinning widely, Billy moved to lick a firm stroke across Orlando’s perineum before returning to his cock, licking lazily up and down with his eyes still on Orlando’s, stopping a moment to suck tightly on the head before laying off again.
“Oh fuck, Billy… please… you’ve got to ride me, mate. Please…” Billy smiled as he dove back down on Orlando’s cock, sucking enthusiastically for a few more moments before he finally gave into Orlando’s litany of pleas, not wanting the party to be over before it had started.
Orlando just groaned as Billy first rolled the condom over his length, then raised up on his knees to reach under himself with fingers moistened by a swipe through his own pre come. Billy fucked himself eagerly onto his fingers for a few minutes, stretching the tissue as far as he could, and then, when Orlando thought he could truly take no more teasing, lowered himself slowly onto Orlando’s cock, throwing his head back and letting out a long moan.
“Oh, fuck… that’s just it, love, oh that’s the ticket…. fuck me, God…”
Orlando grinned as the other man proved himself just as capable of losing control, and reached out to take a hold of Billy’s hips, guiding his movements as Billy rode his cock first slowly, then at an increasingly frenzied pace. As they both neared orgasm, Billy reached back to put his hands on the mattress behind him, arching his back to display himself in a particularly erotic manner to Orlando’s eyes, pale chest stretching as it heaved with exertion, red cock slapping lewdly against Billy’s stomach. Mercifully, Orlando allowed one hand to stray to this organ as he felt his own orgasm becoming increasingly inevitable, and brought Billy off with a few quick, hard strokes, earning a yelp from the older man as he came all over Orlando’s slender fingers. Again, Orlando was fast behind him, and when Billy had lifted off of him, quickly discarded the used condom before raising his hand to his mouth, slowly licking the evidence of Billy’s release from his fingers.
“Jesus fuck,” Billy breathed, watching the younger man with slow-to-dissipate desire reflecting in his eyes, his hands absently stroking Orlando’s hip as he curled up next to him. “Mighty trusting, you are,” he commented, and Orlando just shrugged, pulling him into his arms.
“You clean?”
“Yeah.”
“Well then there you go. I figured if you weren’t, you’d stop me. You seem like the trustworthy type, Mr. Boyd.” Billy just rolled his eyes and pulled Orlando to his chest, pulling a blanket up over them both.
“Think you can risk spending the night?” Billy asked, his voice quickly becoming laced with tones of sleep.
“Yeah. I’ll risk it,” Orlando affirmed, placing a quick kiss to Billy’s forehead. Yeah, Dominic was going to let him hear it in the morning, but this was worth it. Well worth it.