FIC: It must be the hair... (SB/OB), NC-17
Title: It must be the hair...
Pairing: SB/OB
Author: shrinetolust
Rated: NC-17
Story: Pure nonsense. Smut. Rambling.
Disclaimer: Don't know these lovely men, don't know what they get up to in their free time. This is all part of my overactive imagination, done with love and respect, and no harm or offense is intended. It's FICTION!!
Feedback: Yes, please. I know it's not brain surgery but I hope you have a bit of fun with it. ~ Leave a note here or mail me at shrinetolust AT hotmail.com
Crossposted: more_than_mates, bean_uncensored, orlandoslash, fellow_shippers
Archive: My own LJ. Green Opals. Others, please ask.
Notes: Written very late and un-beta-ed, but hopefully still acceptable! Please point out any glaring errors so I'm not embarrassed for too long!
WARNINGS: Lack of real plot. Inappropriate treatment of costumes. Sinfully abundant use of adjectives.
It must be the hair...
Sean locked the door. It was a stupid thing to do, and truth was, they only had maybe twenty minutes before they had to be on set. He wasn't even sure what exactly it was he was planning on doing. But he had to do something.
Mostly it was the blonde hair. Swinging back and forth over Orlando's shoulders, not so much when he was Legolas, but himself, so animated and youthful and bouncing around in his chair. Swish, swish, silky blonde hair cascading over broad masculine shoulders. It were a bit of a mind bend, that.
Day in and day out, watching that hair as it gleamed golden in the sunlight, fluttered brightly in the gentle breeze. He watched as the wardrobe girl's manicured fingers worked diligently at the tiny, delicate braids. Watched as Orlando leaned over to straighten his soft leather boots, blonde hair sliding forward strand by strand, brushing against his cheeks and eventually obscuring his face from view.
It had gotten tangled yesterday, the wind machines roaring and suddenly Orlando's hair was wound around the arrows in his quiver. Sean had reached out, had wanted to be the one to help, but Viggo (damn him) had gotten there first. Then the wardrobe people had swarmed around and he'd missed his chance. Viggo had smirked at him, the bastard, and Orlando had got all dreamy-eyed because Viggo had touched him.
Sean had sulked over several pints and this morning he was irritable, touchy, and--he wasn't sure what. Horny? He didn't know, he hadn't felt this way about a bloke in awhile, but really, it was just the hair. He just wanted to touch it. There was something about it, something that made his skin prickle and the back of his neck hot and his damn trousers tighter than they were before.
So the door was locked. Orlando wasn't paying attention; he was studying a picture Viggo had taped to the wall, leaning forward and squinting at the tiny scrawling print that snaked around the edges of the photo. Orlando was fidgeting, hand scratching at the side of his tunic, trying to get his long fingers in between the leather laces.
Sean was closer now, looking at the lean lines of Orlando's body, the broad shoulders tapering down to a ridiculously narrow waist, slender hips melding into shapely legs. Fuck. Maybe it weren't just the hair then. But mostly, mostly just the hair.
It was hanging down the center of Orlando's back, meticulously perfect braids curving and joining and Sean was finding that very symbolic all of a sudden. Sean could see Orlando's profile in the mirror to their left, the razor sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, a few silken strands of hair cutting across and adding to the beauty. He looked almost unreal, like a painting, or one of those seductive Japanese anime creations.
Sean reached out to touch.
He barely made contact at first, fingertips just sliding along the surface of that beautiful golden hair. He felt himself blushing hotly, his hand trembling, but he couldn't stop now. Not now that he'd felt that sweet, soft hair against his skin.
Orlando turned toward the mirror, a friendly smile on his face, no doubt thinking it was a day like any other. No doubt thinking Sean had merely touched him to get his attention. "Yeah?" he asked, soft voice husky as it always was this early in the morning. "Time to go?"
"Not yet," Sean answered, and then he had both hands pushed into the ends of Orlando's hair. He combed through it with his fingers, shuddering at the sinfully decadent feel of it, nails scratching at Orlando's tunic with each pass.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Orlando's smile fade slightly. The blue eyes were focused on him, trying to gauge his intentions, Sean guessed. "Sean?" Long lashes brushing pale skin as he blinked nervously. "What are you doing?"
"Touching your hair," Sean answered.
"Oh." Dark brow arching above the pale, ethereal eye. "Um...why?"
"Because I want to." Sean lifted a section of hair, leaning forward to inhale, smelling a faint hint of herbal styling products, and a faint hint of Orlando. Maybe it was just his imagination, but everyone had a scent, didn't they? Lij a bit bubble-gummy and Viggo a bit smoky and Orlando a bit...musky. Yes, there was definitely something arousing in a sort of animal way, light sweat on pale olive skin, a smell he knew would be stronger and darker under the arms, behind the knees, and in other hidden places.
Maybe it wasn't just the hair.
Orlando was blushing now, pink showing even through the make-up, highlighting the curves of his cheeks. "Oh," he said again. And then quietly, and maybe permissively, "Okay."
Sean stepped closer, and Orlando stayed where he was. Sean pushed at the surprisingly heavy hair, moving it off to one side, exposing the smooth pale skin of Orlando's neck. He saw the slight shiver shift Orlando's shoulders, and he turned to catch their reflection in the mirror.
Orlando was staring at him, looking uncertain and knowing all at once. Of course it was possible he only hoped to see innocence in those wide eyes, maybe the kid had planned it all along. Maybe he knew what that blonde hair did to men like Sean. Maybe he knew lots of things.
The eyes stayed the same, the cheeks were still pink. But then a tiny flash of tongue appeared between the exquisitely shaped lips, and Orlando tilted his head, ever so slightly and subtly.
Sean blinked, and turned back to the warm flesh just inches from his lips. Saw the fully exposed neck, the taut tendon standing out, the glistening sheen of sweat near the hairline. He reached up and cradled Orlando's jaw, tilting his own head and opening his mouth, to bite into that sweet soft skin.
Orlando made pretty sounds, pretty as the rest of him. Little gasping breaths and moans, higher-pitched than his usual voice, boyish sounds of submission that went straight to Sean's groin. He wasn't so much of a pervert, really. The kid was over twenty and a man several times over--if the stories could be believed, of course. But with a face and a body and wide, soulful eyes like that? No, Sean didn't find it hard to fathom a rather extensive pattern of notches on Orlando's bedpost.
Not that his own bed hadn't long collapsed into a pile of matchsticks. So worldly as the boy was, he was still a delicious, untainted innocent as far as Sean was concerned. And he tasted as good as he looked. Sean lapped at every bit of sweat, tongue soothing over gentle bite marks that would hopefully fade before they got back out into the sunlight.
So maybe it were, fuck it, quite a bit more than just the hair.
Orlando leaned against him, writhing and clutching at Sean's costume. Then he turned, swinging his body around to face Sean's, his hands coming up to cradle Sean's face. "Sean," he sighed, before pressing their mouths together and pushing his tongue hard inside Sean's mouth.
Orlando, Sean thought with a groan, wrapping his arms tightly around Orlando's waist. He opened his mouth wide, letting Orlando get as deep as he wanted, his own tongue sliding and curving around each wet thrust. His hands wandered down, bunching up the green tunic, getting underneath so he could grab at the little round arse.
Orlando moaned into his mouth, his hands pulling open the front of Sean's leather coat, his hips bucking forward thanks to the pressure Sean was exerting on his backside. Their erections rubbed together and they both bit down, teeth briefly imprisoning tongues and bruising lips.
Sean squeezed hard, fingers digging into Orlando's arse, lifting the kid to his toes. Orlando was letting him do it, letting him rub their cocks together until he thought the heat might set their leggings on fire.
"Can I? Orlando breathed against his swollen lips. "Please, Sean..." He wiggled and twisted, making his body heavy so he could slip out of Sean's grasp. His nails dragged across the heavy brocade as he sank down to his knees. "Can I?" he repeated, hands on Sean's hips, hypnotic eyes capturing Sean's gaze.
"Fuck yeah," Sean agreed, unable to stop from shuddering as he wound a hand into the long, silky smooth hair.
"Don't pull," Orlando whispered as his fingers tugged at Sean's clothes. "The girls'll kill me if it comes undone."
"I'll be careful," Sean said, curving his hand to cradle the back of Orlando's head. He'd just make sure he pushed instead of pulled, that would do.
Orlando purred appreciatively as he freed Sean's length, sliding his generously wide tongue over the head. Sean felt his knees buckle, and his free hand swung out to grip the nearest make-up chair for balance. "No teeth, yeah?" Orlando asked, just before licking a broad stripe over Sean's velvety skin.
"No teeth," Sean agreed, letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction as Orlando's warm mouth closed over his cock. Things went dark for a moment, the sensation almost too much, too fast to comprehend. This was going to be so fucking good, just what he needed, just what he'd been wanting since the first time he'd seen that boy toss his hair over his shoulder in an unconsciously sensual gesture.
So it was the hair. Well, it got him going, anyway. Orlando did the rest.
Sweet, boyish Orlando, with his seductively smooth skin and taut youthful body, all muscle and lickable flesh and no fat anywhere--aside from maybe a bit of softness in the very inner thighs. Not that Sean had been looking when they changed, not on purpose anyway. Orlando's hair had been dark, then, on his head and between his legs.
And Sean wanted to get there, wanted to slip between those thighs, with his mouth and his hands and his cock. But not now, not when Orlando's lips and tongue were all over him, not when Orlando's hand was gently stroking him with perfect rhythm. He could feel it all the way down to his toes, that tingle of overwhelming arousal, the tingle that tightened his balls and made his cock drip onto Orlando's fingers.
Orlando pulled back for a breath, licking his lips as he looked up at Sean. "I like tasting you," he said softly, cheeks pinking up again before he leaned forward and devoured Sean's cock once again.
It didn't take long after that. Sean closed his eyes, but his head still spun with images of that stunning face, damp swollen lips and that artful tongue. Orlando was holding him and stroking him and sucking and licking, and then it seemed his fingers were everywhere, touching and pressing and teasing and coaxing.
Orlando was aggressive and yet obedient, letting Sean set the pace, letting Sean push on the back of his head, letting Sean fuck his mouth and tickle the back of his throat. Sean felt his orgasm rising up inside, his muscles tightening, knuckles turning white as he gripped the chair back.
He dared to look down again, and saw Orlando's lips so perfectly puckered around him, eyes closed tight in concentration, hands so sure and steady. "Pretty boy Orlando," Sean breathed out, unable to keep himself quiet. "Don't stop, pretty boy, don't stop..."
He came into Orlando's mouth, body shuddering over and over again, his knees barely holding him as he spilled everything he had. Orlando took it all, drinking him in, pressing a damp hand to his hip to keep him steady.
Fifteen seconds later he was on the floor, panting for breath, Orlando curled up next to him. His hand was still tangled in the blonde hair, the siren snare he'd fallen into headfirst.
"Was that okay?" Orlando asked, warm breath against his ear, hot fingers caressing his neck.
"I'llletyouknow," Sean slurred sleepily, "whenIcanfeelmylegsagain..."
Orlando's gentle laugh tickled his skin, and then Orlando was nibbling his earlobe. "Okay," he said, words following Sean on the wave of a dream. "Pretty man Sean..."
~~
"Finish your coffee and then get the hell out of here," Viggo said, following the two make-up girls to the door. "No dallying like yesterday. Pete's expecting us up on the ridge."
"Will do," Sean assured, taking a sip from his mug and sinking back into his chair.
The door slammed behind them and Orlando sighed deeply. "Reckon Pete can wait a few minutes while we finish our brekkie, yeah?"
Sean nodded his agreement and took another sip. "He can wait."
Orlando got up and locked the door.
Sean set his coffee down and smiled at their reflection in the mirror. Orlando stood behind him, golden hair sliding over his shoulders as he tilted his head to look down at Sean. And then Sean felt it, long, graceful fingers combing gently through his strawberry blonde hair.
He licked his lips. This was definitely going to be a good hair day.
~~End
Pairing: SB/OB
Author: shrinetolust
Rated: NC-17
Story: Pure nonsense. Smut. Rambling.
Disclaimer: Don't know these lovely men, don't know what they get up to in their free time. This is all part of my overactive imagination, done with love and respect, and no harm or offense is intended. It's FICTION!!
Feedback: Yes, please. I know it's not brain surgery but I hope you have a bit of fun with it. ~ Leave a note here or mail me at shrinetolust AT hotmail.com
Crossposted: more_than_mates, bean_uncensored, orlandoslash, fellow_shippers
Archive: My own LJ. Green Opals. Others, please ask.
Notes: Written very late and un-beta-ed, but hopefully still acceptable! Please point out any glaring errors so I'm not embarrassed for too long!
WARNINGS: Lack of real plot. Inappropriate treatment of costumes. Sinfully abundant use of adjectives.
It must be the hair...
Sean locked the door. It was a stupid thing to do, and truth was, they only had maybe twenty minutes before they had to be on set. He wasn't even sure what exactly it was he was planning on doing. But he had to do something.
Mostly it was the blonde hair. Swinging back and forth over Orlando's shoulders, not so much when he was Legolas, but himself, so animated and youthful and bouncing around in his chair. Swish, swish, silky blonde hair cascading over broad masculine shoulders. It were a bit of a mind bend, that.
Day in and day out, watching that hair as it gleamed golden in the sunlight, fluttered brightly in the gentle breeze. He watched as the wardrobe girl's manicured fingers worked diligently at the tiny, delicate braids. Watched as Orlando leaned over to straighten his soft leather boots, blonde hair sliding forward strand by strand, brushing against his cheeks and eventually obscuring his face from view.
It had gotten tangled yesterday, the wind machines roaring and suddenly Orlando's hair was wound around the arrows in his quiver. Sean had reached out, had wanted to be the one to help, but Viggo (damn him) had gotten there first. Then the wardrobe people had swarmed around and he'd missed his chance. Viggo had smirked at him, the bastard, and Orlando had got all dreamy-eyed because Viggo had touched him.
Sean had sulked over several pints and this morning he was irritable, touchy, and--he wasn't sure what. Horny? He didn't know, he hadn't felt this way about a bloke in awhile, but really, it was just the hair. He just wanted to touch it. There was something about it, something that made his skin prickle and the back of his neck hot and his damn trousers tighter than they were before.
So the door was locked. Orlando wasn't paying attention; he was studying a picture Viggo had taped to the wall, leaning forward and squinting at the tiny scrawling print that snaked around the edges of the photo. Orlando was fidgeting, hand scratching at the side of his tunic, trying to get his long fingers in between the leather laces.
Sean was closer now, looking at the lean lines of Orlando's body, the broad shoulders tapering down to a ridiculously narrow waist, slender hips melding into shapely legs. Fuck. Maybe it weren't just the hair then. But mostly, mostly just the hair.
It was hanging down the center of Orlando's back, meticulously perfect braids curving and joining and Sean was finding that very symbolic all of a sudden. Sean could see Orlando's profile in the mirror to their left, the razor sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, a few silken strands of hair cutting across and adding to the beauty. He looked almost unreal, like a painting, or one of those seductive Japanese anime creations.
Sean reached out to touch.
He barely made contact at first, fingertips just sliding along the surface of that beautiful golden hair. He felt himself blushing hotly, his hand trembling, but he couldn't stop now. Not now that he'd felt that sweet, soft hair against his skin.
Orlando turned toward the mirror, a friendly smile on his face, no doubt thinking it was a day like any other. No doubt thinking Sean had merely touched him to get his attention. "Yeah?" he asked, soft voice husky as it always was this early in the morning. "Time to go?"
"Not yet," Sean answered, and then he had both hands pushed into the ends of Orlando's hair. He combed through it with his fingers, shuddering at the sinfully decadent feel of it, nails scratching at Orlando's tunic with each pass.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Orlando's smile fade slightly. The blue eyes were focused on him, trying to gauge his intentions, Sean guessed. "Sean?" Long lashes brushing pale skin as he blinked nervously. "What are you doing?"
"Touching your hair," Sean answered.
"Oh." Dark brow arching above the pale, ethereal eye. "Um...why?"
"Because I want to." Sean lifted a section of hair, leaning forward to inhale, smelling a faint hint of herbal styling products, and a faint hint of Orlando. Maybe it was just his imagination, but everyone had a scent, didn't they? Lij a bit bubble-gummy and Viggo a bit smoky and Orlando a bit...musky. Yes, there was definitely something arousing in a sort of animal way, light sweat on pale olive skin, a smell he knew would be stronger and darker under the arms, behind the knees, and in other hidden places.
Maybe it wasn't just the hair.
Orlando was blushing now, pink showing even through the make-up, highlighting the curves of his cheeks. "Oh," he said again. And then quietly, and maybe permissively, "Okay."
Sean stepped closer, and Orlando stayed where he was. Sean pushed at the surprisingly heavy hair, moving it off to one side, exposing the smooth pale skin of Orlando's neck. He saw the slight shiver shift Orlando's shoulders, and he turned to catch their reflection in the mirror.
Orlando was staring at him, looking uncertain and knowing all at once. Of course it was possible he only hoped to see innocence in those wide eyes, maybe the kid had planned it all along. Maybe he knew what that blonde hair did to men like Sean. Maybe he knew lots of things.
The eyes stayed the same, the cheeks were still pink. But then a tiny flash of tongue appeared between the exquisitely shaped lips, and Orlando tilted his head, ever so slightly and subtly.
Sean blinked, and turned back to the warm flesh just inches from his lips. Saw the fully exposed neck, the taut tendon standing out, the glistening sheen of sweat near the hairline. He reached up and cradled Orlando's jaw, tilting his own head and opening his mouth, to bite into that sweet soft skin.
Orlando made pretty sounds, pretty as the rest of him. Little gasping breaths and moans, higher-pitched than his usual voice, boyish sounds of submission that went straight to Sean's groin. He wasn't so much of a pervert, really. The kid was over twenty and a man several times over--if the stories could be believed, of course. But with a face and a body and wide, soulful eyes like that? No, Sean didn't find it hard to fathom a rather extensive pattern of notches on Orlando's bedpost.
Not that his own bed hadn't long collapsed into a pile of matchsticks. So worldly as the boy was, he was still a delicious, untainted innocent as far as Sean was concerned. And he tasted as good as he looked. Sean lapped at every bit of sweat, tongue soothing over gentle bite marks that would hopefully fade before they got back out into the sunlight.
So maybe it were, fuck it, quite a bit more than just the hair.
Orlando leaned against him, writhing and clutching at Sean's costume. Then he turned, swinging his body around to face Sean's, his hands coming up to cradle Sean's face. "Sean," he sighed, before pressing their mouths together and pushing his tongue hard inside Sean's mouth.
Orlando, Sean thought with a groan, wrapping his arms tightly around Orlando's waist. He opened his mouth wide, letting Orlando get as deep as he wanted, his own tongue sliding and curving around each wet thrust. His hands wandered down, bunching up the green tunic, getting underneath so he could grab at the little round arse.
Orlando moaned into his mouth, his hands pulling open the front of Sean's leather coat, his hips bucking forward thanks to the pressure Sean was exerting on his backside. Their erections rubbed together and they both bit down, teeth briefly imprisoning tongues and bruising lips.
Sean squeezed hard, fingers digging into Orlando's arse, lifting the kid to his toes. Orlando was letting him do it, letting him rub their cocks together until he thought the heat might set their leggings on fire.
"Can I? Orlando breathed against his swollen lips. "Please, Sean..." He wiggled and twisted, making his body heavy so he could slip out of Sean's grasp. His nails dragged across the heavy brocade as he sank down to his knees. "Can I?" he repeated, hands on Sean's hips, hypnotic eyes capturing Sean's gaze.
"Fuck yeah," Sean agreed, unable to stop from shuddering as he wound a hand into the long, silky smooth hair.
"Don't pull," Orlando whispered as his fingers tugged at Sean's clothes. "The girls'll kill me if it comes undone."
"I'll be careful," Sean said, curving his hand to cradle the back of Orlando's head. He'd just make sure he pushed instead of pulled, that would do.
Orlando purred appreciatively as he freed Sean's length, sliding his generously wide tongue over the head. Sean felt his knees buckle, and his free hand swung out to grip the nearest make-up chair for balance. "No teeth, yeah?" Orlando asked, just before licking a broad stripe over Sean's velvety skin.
"No teeth," Sean agreed, letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction as Orlando's warm mouth closed over his cock. Things went dark for a moment, the sensation almost too much, too fast to comprehend. This was going to be so fucking good, just what he needed, just what he'd been wanting since the first time he'd seen that boy toss his hair over his shoulder in an unconsciously sensual gesture.
So it was the hair. Well, it got him going, anyway. Orlando did the rest.
Sweet, boyish Orlando, with his seductively smooth skin and taut youthful body, all muscle and lickable flesh and no fat anywhere--aside from maybe a bit of softness in the very inner thighs. Not that Sean had been looking when they changed, not on purpose anyway. Orlando's hair had been dark, then, on his head and between his legs.
And Sean wanted to get there, wanted to slip between those thighs, with his mouth and his hands and his cock. But not now, not when Orlando's lips and tongue were all over him, not when Orlando's hand was gently stroking him with perfect rhythm. He could feel it all the way down to his toes, that tingle of overwhelming arousal, the tingle that tightened his balls and made his cock drip onto Orlando's fingers.
Orlando pulled back for a breath, licking his lips as he looked up at Sean. "I like tasting you," he said softly, cheeks pinking up again before he leaned forward and devoured Sean's cock once again.
It didn't take long after that. Sean closed his eyes, but his head still spun with images of that stunning face, damp swollen lips and that artful tongue. Orlando was holding him and stroking him and sucking and licking, and then it seemed his fingers were everywhere, touching and pressing and teasing and coaxing.
Orlando was aggressive and yet obedient, letting Sean set the pace, letting Sean push on the back of his head, letting Sean fuck his mouth and tickle the back of his throat. Sean felt his orgasm rising up inside, his muscles tightening, knuckles turning white as he gripped the chair back.
He dared to look down again, and saw Orlando's lips so perfectly puckered around him, eyes closed tight in concentration, hands so sure and steady. "Pretty boy Orlando," Sean breathed out, unable to keep himself quiet. "Don't stop, pretty boy, don't stop..."
He came into Orlando's mouth, body shuddering over and over again, his knees barely holding him as he spilled everything he had. Orlando took it all, drinking him in, pressing a damp hand to his hip to keep him steady.
Fifteen seconds later he was on the floor, panting for breath, Orlando curled up next to him. His hand was still tangled in the blonde hair, the siren snare he'd fallen into headfirst.
"Was that okay?" Orlando asked, warm breath against his ear, hot fingers caressing his neck.
"I'llletyouknow," Sean slurred sleepily, "whenIcanfeelmylegsagain..."
Orlando's gentle laugh tickled his skin, and then Orlando was nibbling his earlobe. "Okay," he said, words following Sean on the wave of a dream. "Pretty man Sean..."
~~
"Finish your coffee and then get the hell out of here," Viggo said, following the two make-up girls to the door. "No dallying like yesterday. Pete's expecting us up on the ridge."
"Will do," Sean assured, taking a sip from his mug and sinking back into his chair.
The door slammed behind them and Orlando sighed deeply. "Reckon Pete can wait a few minutes while we finish our brekkie, yeah?"
Sean nodded his agreement and took another sip. "He can wait."
Orlando got up and locked the door.
Sean set his coffee down and smiled at their reflection in the mirror. Orlando stood behind him, golden hair sliding over his shoulders as he tilted his head to look down at Sean. And then Sean felt it, long, graceful fingers combing gently through his strawberry blonde hair.
He licked his lips. This was definitely going to be a good hair day.
~~End