broadwriting: (orlando (lips))
[personal profile] broadwriting
Title: "Temporary Monogamy" (26/27)
Author: Brenda ([ profile] azewewish)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean (Harry Sinclair/Karl Urban)
Click here for full disclaimers & notes.

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven (and Epilogue) |

It's your life. If you don't live it, who will?

The words – spoken by Harry so long ago, or so it seemed – echoed in Orlando's head all throughout the long night of contemplation and, yes, brooding, thank you, Miranda (and for giving him yet another word he knew he'd always associate with his time in New Zealand). Maybe Harry really was right. Maybe things really were just that simple. Maybe Orlando wasn't getting ready to walk up to Sean's door and knock and make a complete and utter ass of himself for the third time in less than a month. Which had to be a record, by the way. If anyone was keeping score, that was. Orlando sincerely hoped not.

He still couldn't believe he'd been that naïve about his own feelings. How the hell could he trust himself when he'd missed all of the basic signs that he was in love – in love, ferfuckssake – and had to have Karl, of all people (because, honestly, the irony that Sean's ex-lover had pushed him towards his epiphany was just too much to contemplate), point it out to him? Sean would have to be completely off his nutter to want to get mixed up with a man like him.

But, if he didn't at least try, Karl probably would sit on him or, worse yet, tell Viggo about it.

He banged on Sean's door for a solid two minutes before a bleary-eyed, shirtless Sean opened it. His pajama pants rode so low around his hips that Orlando was surprised they weren't falling down around his ankles. His hair was all spiked and crazed, his face was lined from his bedsheets, and his cheeks and chin were covered in stubble.

Orlando couldn't stop staring. Sean was the most beautiful man Orlando had ever seen.

How the fuck could he have been so blind for so long?

"Why didn't you use your key?" Sean asked on a yawn, using the doorjamb as a prop to hold himself up. He still looked mostly asleep.

"Umm..." Everything Orlando'd planned to say evaporated like mist. He didn't think anyone would blame him for being incoherent when all he wanted to do was trace each and every inch of Sean's very naked chest with his lips and tongue. A sight like this should give him a free pass on the whole speaking thing, right?

Sean scratched at his chin when he yawned again, then turned. "Didn't know we had a call today."


"No matter, I'll just put the kettle on..."

"No. Sean, wait." Lethargy broken, Orlando lunged out, caught Sean's arm. He had an awful premonition that if Sean went inside, things would go back the way they were and he'd never be able to say anything. "Stop."

Sean rubbed sleep out of his eyes, blinked. His eyes were the sort of green that Orlando associated with springtime and renewal. "Alright. I'm stopped."

There was no way Orlando could do this. He looked at Sean, the words lodged in his throat, and just froze. He couldn't. What if he ruined their friendship? What if he lost everything he already had? What if Sean really didn't look at him like that, and here Orlando was, getting ready to stick his foot in it, to pour his heart out at Sean's feet and offer himself, a little flawed and full of good intentions, but not much else? What the hell could he hope to give Sean in return for everything that Sean meant to him?

But if Orlando didn't try...

"I'm in love with you."

Sean's spine snapped to attention as he straightened. He no longer looked tired. Instead, he looked far too awake. "I'm...I'm sorry, did you...?"

"I'm in love with you," Orlando repeated, stronger this time. An oddly profound sense of relief swept through him at finally stating the words out loud. He could do this. Even if Sean rejected him, he could rest easy, knowing they had complete honesty between them. "I think I've been in love with you from the first, and it's alright if you don't feel the same, I mean, I know I've been a cock up about the whole –"

His words were abruptly cut off by the press of Sean's lips against his. He blinked into the kiss, his heart stuttering, then hammering in his chest as the kiss deepened, Sean's lips sliding over his own, possessive and hard. It was just as mind-blowing as the last time.

Orlando was still gasping for breath when Sean pulled back.

"Fucking hell, you have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that," Sean said. His voice was a rough, low tangle of too many emotions for Orlando to name.

" have?" Time seemed to stand completely still as he waited for Sean's answer.

"Aye." Gentle fingers rubbed over Orlando's mohawk, then down his cheek. "Think I fell for you the very first time I saw you."

Orlando could just feel himself blushing to the tips of his toes at the admission. "You did?"

"I did," Sean smiled, and leaned in for another kiss, this one soft, gentle, giving a promise that Orlando was eager for Sean to keep.

Orlando kept his eyes closed when he leaned back, still seeking the taste of Sean on his tongue. He couldn't believe he'd almost screwed up his chance at getting Sean's lips on a full-time basis. "I'm sorry I was so –"

"Doesn't matter," Sean interrupted, thumb still rubbing over Orlando's chin, the gesture innately possessive. "We're here now. That's the important thing."

"This isn't..." Orlando collected his thoughts, slid his palm over the heated skin of Sean's chest. He couldn't wait to continue exploring. But first, he had to make sure Sean knew that this wasn't just some silly whim or crush or what have you, something easily felt and easily forgotten. "I'm in this for the long haul. Thought I might warn you up front."

Sean frowned again. "We don't have to..."

"No, we do. This is important." Orlando put his head over Sean's heart, felt the steady beat beneath his fingers. He knew his own heartbeat matched it. "This isn't about any of Viggo's dodgy talk on finding someone for the shoot. I want to be with you for the shoot. I want to be with you after the shoot's over. I want to be with you when we both get other jobs and are apart and have to live with short visits and shorter phone calls. When we're between jobs and get to be all crazy domestic and spend far too much time living in each other's pockets. I want everything - the whole package."

Sean's brows furrowed again, but Orlando leaned forward before he could reply, swallowed half-formed words with a hot, tangled kiss. Lost himself in honest need, in the way Sean responded, in the heat that the two of them created together. Now that he was finally here, he didn't intend to waste any more time playing games.

"Point taken," Sean breathed, when they both parted. Then he reached up and fiddled with the skin just behind Orlando's ear. "You've, um, got a bit of..."

"Typical," Orlando grimaced, over Sean's smile of apology. Figured that the most important moment of his life would be punctuated by Elf glue.

"Can I...can I ask what brought you here?"

"Would you believe it was Karl?"

"Aye, I would," Sean chuckled, and shook his head. "Shoulda known he'd have an ace up his sleeve if I didn't move fast enough to suit him."

"Wait, you two..." Then Orlando stopped. "Never mind, actually. I have no problems believing you two talked about this."

"In his own way, he loves both of us." Sean's fingers toyed with the small hairs at the back of Orlando's neck. Orlando shivered into the contact. "Think he knew we'd both brood about it forever and not act if given half a chance."

"I know," Orlando murmured, and slid his lips over Sean's again. He thought he might get sick of doing this in the next century or two.

"I, um, I don't want to presume, but –" Sean stopped to give Orlando another kiss than quickly turned into several.

"If that's your way of inviting me in, the answer is hell yes," Orlando finally said, when he thought he could speak through the haze of need, and started pushing at Sean to get him in the door and up the stairs.

The sheets on the bed were still a messy tangle. A glass half-full of water was on the nightstand, along with the next day's sides and what looked like a partially eaten protein bar, still in the wrapper. Muted sunlight shone through gauzy curtains. The room was cozy, familiar, but it was like Orlando was truly seeing it for the first time.

He turned, some remark or pseudo-witty saying at the ready...and completely forgot everything he'd meant to say when Sean stepped forward and started to pull at Orlando's t-shirt. "I've had so many dreams about this," Sean said, the words a low hum in Orlando's ear.

"Me too," he whispered, lips parting in a soft 'o' of surprise when Sean dropped to his knees to get at the zipper of his jeans. He lifted his hands, not surprised to see that they were shaking, rested them on Sean's shoulders, and did his best to not panic as Sean finished undressing him.

"Christ, yer a sight," Sean breathed, coming back to his feet in one smooth motion. Orlando shivered, clenched his hands into fists to keep from trying to cover himself. He felt vulnerable, naked, young. But he also knew, without a doubt, that there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

Sean slowly circled him, touching him only with his eyes, his gaze so intimate that Orlando's breath caught in his throat. He wasn't worthy of this, of the worship and love he saw reflected back at him. But he'd get there. If it took him the rest of his life, he would prove to himself – to the both of them – that Sean's faith in him wasn't misplaced.

"I feel, uh, a little like there should be some sort of, y'know, chica bow music," he said, with a small, high-pitched laugh.

Sean's answering chuckle did nothing to ease Orlando's nerves. "Somehow I don't see you making it as a stripper."

"Well, no, I'm – oi, wait a minute." Orlando put his fists to his hips. "Are you insulting my dancing?"

"No," Sean promptly replied, and stepped back into Orlando's space, running feather-light fingers along Orlando's ribs. "Just your coordination."

"I've got great coordination."

"Good." Then Sean winked at him. "Prove it."

Orlando opened his mouth, indignant reply on his lips, then just as abruptly closed it. "You were bamming me on purpose," he accused.

Sean shrugged, unapologetic. "You were looking a little green around the gills. It's just sex."

"I know that," Orlando huffed out in an exasperated breath. "I mean, I know that, it's just, it's sex with you, now, isn't it, and here we both are, and I'm, well, naked, and you're so fucking perfect, and what if I get it wrong?"

Sean framed Orlando's face with gentle hands. They were so close that Orlando could see gold flecks in Sean's eyes. "I don't know how plain I can be, Orlando," Sean said, each word a pledge across Orlando's lips. "I love every single thing about you, including your imperfections. Especially your imperfections."

Orlando's throat worked, and he nodded, the motion small. "Okay."

Sean's lips were light on his. "We'll figure everything else out together."

Together. Fuck, but Orlando liked the sound of that. "Okay," he repeated, clearer, and rubbed his lips across Sean's as his hands ran down Sean's sides to the waistband of his pajama pants.

They fell to the bed, naked and greedy for each other. Orlando couldn't stop touching Sean, gliding his hands along every bit of exposed skin he could reach. He couldn't believe how different this felt than everything he'd done with Jerry. All of which had been mind-blowing and fantastic, really, and he was so grateful that he'd had someone like Jerry to show him the ropes on the whole bloke on bloke thing, but now? With Sean's harsh groans in his ears and muscled body beneath his fingers and the knowledge that Sean was in this for the long haul, too?

There just wasn't any comparison.

He nuzzled the wiry curls that framed Sean's cock, breathed in the sharp scent of sex, the darker scent of Sean underneath. "Been dreaming about this," he murmured, and slid a delicate tongue along the length.

"Oh fuck..." Sean clutched at Orlando's shoulders as Orlando wrapped his lips around the head, fully tasted Sean for the first time. He moved, going slow, feeling clumsy and inadequate, but trusting that Sean would guide him to what he liked best. He wanted to learn everything there was to know, wanted to learn what made Sean moan, what made him shiver in need, what made him lose control. He wanted to be inside Sean, wanted to sink himself deep inside Sean's body and lose himself for a year or two, wanted Sean inside him, claiming him in the most elemental way possible.

When Sean finally urged him up and reached for the small bottle of lube on the nightstand, asking permission with his eyes, Orlando was more than ready. He wanted this final step with an intensity that would have scared him if he wasn't sure that Sean wanted it just as much.

Wordlessly, he spread his legs, pulled Sean to him, traded slow, soft kisses as Sean eased one finger, then two, inside him. Offered himself, nails digging into the small of Sean's back as he hissed out a moan of pleasure when Sean brushed against his prostate. His skin burned everywhere Sean touched him, every nerve aflame with need.

"Please..." he whispered, trusting that Sean would hear him.

"I've got's alright, love." Sean raised Orlando's arms over his head, threaded their fingers together in a tight grip. Orlando could feel the hammer of Sean's heart against his own as Sean started to push inside him, filling him inch by inch. When Sean was fully seated, Orlando's legs wrapped tight around him to hold him in place, he stopped. Their eyes met. Held.

In unison, they both started to laugh, the sound a joyful, relieved reverberation that bound them even closer together.

"Yeah?" Sean asked, still smiling as he started to slowly move, hips barely rocking forward.

"Fuck yes," Orlando answered, certain his grin had to rival entire constellations for brilliance, then lost the power of speech altogether when Sean started to thrust in earnest.

Karl had been right all those months ago. Love made all the difference.


When Orlando finally flopped, face first, on the pillows, boneless and sated and pleasantly sore in all the right places, the sun was beginning its descent onto the horizon. There were definitely worse ways of spending one's day off than in bed having fucking first-rate fantastic sex. Especially when said sex involved a man as inventive as Sean.

"You really weren't kidding about the god with your tongue thing," he said, the words muffled as he turned his head to the side to study Sean's profile.

"I would never joke about something as important as my tongue," Sean solemnly replied, then ruined the effect by winking.

"I expect Karl's going to be smug about the whole thing."

"Dunno about smug, but he has been trying to foist me off on you for months now," Sean grinned, running light fingers along Orlando's still sweat-slick spine.

"He has been rather Cupid-esque about the entire thing," Orlando agreed, arching into the touch like a satisfied cat.

"And here I was thinking he only wore the wings for show," Sean murmured, lowering his head to follow the same path his fingers were taking, each kiss feather-light. Orlando thought it was a damn good thing he didn't know how to purr, otherwise he'd be liable to embarrass himself.

His eyes fluttered, then closed, as his body stirred back to life. "Did you ever, y'know, get him to model them for you?"

"Never asked."

"Prime missed opportunity there, mate."

Sean chuckled, the sound a low hum that sent more shivers down Orlando's back. "Trust me, if you'd ever seen Karl naked and ready to go, covering him with anything other than your own body would have been the farthest thing from your mind."

"Good point," Orlando conceded, then groaned when Sean's teeth scraped along the back of his neck. "Although I' as glad things, y'know, uh, worked out the way they did."

Sean wrapped a strong, loving arm around him, and placed a soft kiss between Orlando's shoulder blades. "So am I, love," he whispered, turning the words into their first secret. "So am I."

(To Be Concluded)

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