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broadwritingTitle: "Companion" 1/4
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
azewewish & idiosyncratic
Series Title: "Changes" (Part Eight)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Harry Sinclair (Jake Gyllenhaal)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry’s stuck with babysitting duty. Claimed Universe Piece.
Feedback: Love it.
Disclaimer: Vampires still don’t exist. And we doubt that Harry and Orlando are fucking each other, let alone have their hooks in Jake. But you never know.
"It's my desire
To give myself to you"
-- Depeche Mode
"Harry," Orlando said, all smiles and innocence as he sidled up behind Harry's chair. "I want to go out." Crossing his arms over the back of the chair and leaning forward, Orlando flashed his most charming smile as his fingertips trailed across the back of Harry's neck. "Please?"
Harry didn’t even bother to glance up, which rather wasted the effect, Orlando thought. "Aren’t you grounded?"
Bastard would have to bring that night up.
"Well, it wasn't an actual grounding, right?" Taking his time, Orlando slid around the chair and perched on the arm. Near enough that it would be pretty close to impossible for Harry to ignore him. Which, Orlando thought, was the idea. "I mean, you know, I'm just not supposed to go out alone with Dave for a, um, while."
"Next century, if memory serves," Harry replied, mildly. Orlando frowned as he watched Harry continue to flip through his evening paper, looking every inch the relaxed man at leisure. Crisp white shirtsleeves rolled up, tie dangling loose around a strong neck, top two buttons undone, showing the barest hint of dark hair underneath. Yeah, Harry was pretty relaxed, alright. Which didn’t bode well at all.
Think, idiot. Orlando's hand came up, teeth nibbling at the side of his thumb as he studied Harry. Yeah, definitely relaxed. Fuck. Which mean that Orlando had a slightly better chance than a snowball in hell of getting Harry out of the house.
//Stop that.//
Orlando frowned again when Harry's hand came up and curled around his wrist, pulling his thumb from his mouth. "Well," Orlando said, striving for a casual tone, "I suppose I could just go out by myself, then. Just for a little while."
"Now you’re a comedian as well as an entrepreneur."
Orlando narrowed his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to jerk his hand out of Harry’s steadfast grasp. "Bastard."
"I’m wounded, truly." But the quick, wicked grin said something completely different. Harry flipped Orlando’s hand over, nails stroking along the palm in a slow, tantalizing sweep.
Okay, time to change tactics. With another smile, Orlando twisted around and slid down until he was sitting in Harry's lap. Just ignore the thumb moving over his palm. He could do it.
Right. Like he could ever ignore Harry.
"I'd be good," Orlando murmured, looking at Harry with wide eyes. "Promise."
"Do you even know what that words means?" Harry asked, but Orlando was pleased to see that Harry had at least dropped the paper to the floor and wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him close. Orlando snuggled into the warmth, instinctively dropping his ear to Harry’s chest to listen to the slow, steady heartbeat.
"I'm a quick learner," Orlando offered, body curling around Harry before he even thought about it. Nice. And something they didn't do far often enough anymore. What the hell...maybe he'd just stay....
Wait a sec. Uh uh. No.
Orlando's head popped up, and he gave Harry a level look. "You're trying to distract me."
"I would never do such a thing."
"Oh, and now you're lying to me." Orlando sniffed and gave a sad little shake of his head. "I'm crushed."
The kiss to surprised lips was far too brief. "I don’t think that’s the word I’d have chosen," Harry grinned. "Is there a reason you singled me out for babysitting duty and not Karl?"
"It's not babysitting," Orlando replied at once, eyes flashing with indignation. He started to sit up, thought better of it when Harry's arm tightened. "But if you don't want to go," he continued, calmer, fingers toying with the buttons on Harry's shirt, "I suppose I could ask Karl to take me to the club...."
"You think I’d trust the two of you alone anymore than I would trust you with Dave?" Harry placed a hand over Orlando’s, stilling his movements. "And you still haven’t answered my question."
Orlando sat very still, barely breathing as he looked at Harry's hand covering his. "We haven't spent much time alone lately," he finally said in a quiet voice. "And it's not that I don't love Karl and Dave, you know I do, it's just... Like with Karl. Sometimes I just, you know, want to spend time alone with you, and I thought that you might want to..."
"Go to a crowded club with you among teeming masses of people with music I can barely tolerate?" Harry yanked Orlando back to his chest before Orlando could protest or wiggle away. "None of that," he murmured, brushing another light kiss across Orlando’s curls. "If you want to go dancing and drive the male and female populations of Hollywood insane, far be it from me to deny you. But that's your idea of fun, not mine."
"I'll dance for you," Orlando murmured, peeking up at Harry through his lashes. He knew what Harry said, sure, but what Harry said wasn't always what Harry meant. And Orlando was going stir crazy in the house after the incident that had got him and Dave grounded (well into the next century, yes, thank you, he didn't need the reminder). At this point, he was willing to agree to any condition Harry made.
"You’ll dance for me anyway," and Orlando couldn’t really deny it. He’d pretty much do anything Harry asked of him, and they both knew it. "Question is, what will you be wearing?"
"Mmmm..." Orlando pretended to think it over as he twisted around to straddle Harry's lap. Much better. Leaning in to lick a slow stripe along warm skin, he grinned at Harry's soft growl. "I was thinking the black leather pants and the scarlet silk shirt Karl just bought me."
"Sounds like too much clothing to me, little one," Harry smirked, and yeah, Orlando could definitely see lust mixed in with the amusement.
"Well," Orlando said slowly, eyes heavy lidded, fingers working to unbutton Harry's shirt. "I suppose I could wear nothing..."
Much better. All that lovely skin to see and touch. He released a happy sigh as he flattened his palms against Harry's ribs. Harry shifted under him, muscles flexing under questing fingers. His head lolled back, but dark eyes were clear and intent when they focused on Orlando. "Does this mean you want a different sort of entertainment?" Harry asked, rumbly voice a husky murmur that sent shivers down Orlando’s spine.
"I still want to go out." Orlando's gaze never wavered, locked as it was with Harry's. His fingers continued to trace ancient scars, and he licked his lips, smiled slowly. "Thought maybe we could go to Miss Kitty's. Crowd there always amuses you. Or...you pick."
"Maybe you could convince me." Strong thighs bunched when Harry stretched underneath him, all lethal grace and potent seduction.
"Maybe I could," Orlando murmured. He flashed a wicked grin as one hand slid down Harry's stomach. Deft fingers unfastened Harry's dress slacks as Orlando slid back. "Don't suppose asking nicely will do?"
Harry grinned, running the tip of his tongue across sharp fangs. His knees fell open, hips arching to better facilitate Orlando’s movements. "Love, this is asking nicely."
"Oh?" One eyebrow lifted when Harry just continued to grin. Cocky bastard. Orlando leaned in, swiped his tongue over Harry's fangs, then slid backwards again. Only, this time, he didn't stop until he was kneeling between Harry's thighs.
//Getting warmer// and there was no denying the heat now. Just feeling the haze of lust and need pulsing through their bond was enough to make Orlando hard. He didn’t even question how Harry did it anymore. What would be the point when the reward was all of this?
//So why don't we make it really hot?// Harry tugged, and then Orlando's lips were wrapped around Harry's cock, tongue flicking across the head. Instantly, greedy hands slid through Orlando’s hair, gently guiding, encouraging. Not that Orlando needed much encouraging, but he loved the feel of calloused fingers sifting over his scalp. The heavy, hot taste of Harry filled his senses as he swept his tongue along the head. Harry growled his appreciation, and Orlando thought that there might not be a hotter sound in the universe.
//Like that?// Orlando smiled around Harry's cock, slid his lips down the shaft. One hand slid into Harry's trousers to cup his balls. The way Harry was moving, the sounds he was making, the sensations swamping their bond...all of it, fucking perfect. And damned if Orlando wasn't going to enjoy every second of it as he drew back a little, fangs delicately raking sensitive skin.
Harry growled again, low and indistinct, and he lifted his hips, pushing his cock deeper into Orlando’s mouth. Orlando took the hint, lips tightening along the shaft, tongue swirling in intricate patterns along the head. He continued to knead Harry’s balls, rolling them between his fingers as he sought to drive Harry completely out of his mind.
//Love doing this for you...// Orlando tipped his head just a bit, just enough to focus on Harry's face. Fuck all, but he was pretty sure there wasn't anything hotter than Harry like this. His fingers continued to move, sliding back to tease, then trailing up to circle the base of Harry's cock. Harry's fingers tightened in his hair, and Orlando smiled to himself. //Love the way you fuck my mouth...//
//Love the way you love my cock// and even Harry’s mental voice was all low and rumbly, sending delicious shivers all over Orlando’s body. Harry slid his hands to Orlando’s shoulders, holding them in a tight grip as he thrust up. Fuck yes, Orlando thought, and widened his mouth to take even more, wanted everything Harry had to give him, wanted Harry choking him, using him.
//Come for me, love// he urged, and was rewarded with Harry shuddering and brokenly moaning his name, coming in thick, jerky spurts down Orlando’s willing throat.
Still smiling, Orlando slid his tongue up Harry's cock one last time. Then he licked his lips, braced his hands on the arms of the chair, and slithered back up into Harry's lap. "You are," he murmured, lips just barely brushing Harry's, "the hottest fucking thing, you know that?" And he really was, with his eyes almost closed, faint flush high on his cheeks, lips parted as he breathed. Orlando tucked the image away to savor later, and covered Harry's lips with his.
The kiss was lazy and slow, but still over much too soon. Orlando lifted dazed eyes, and smiled, cat-like, when he sat back. "You look far too smug," Harry murmured, but Orlando could tell (or thought he could) that it was all bluster. The strong hands currently sliding along Orlando’s back were far more important.
"You always say that." His own eyes starting to close, Orlando arched his back, sighing happily when Harry's fingers traced his spine. Calluses and all, Harry's hands felt fucking amazing. With extreme reluctance, Orlando opened his eyes, focused on Harry. "So...convinced?"
"What, that you give a good blowjob? There was never any doubt, not with your mouth."
Dark eyes narrowed, and one slender index finger poked Harry in the center of the chest. "You're a right bastard," Orlando muttered. "My oral skills are legendary, thanks very much. I was talking about the club."
Harry lifted Orlando’s finger and bit the tip softly. "Now, what’ve I told you about giving blowjobs to strange men at clubs, hmm?"
Immediately, Orlando went wide-eyed and flashed Harry his most charming, innocent smile. "I doubt I'd find anyone stranger than you, so you're safe."
"Yes, but you’re not giving me blowjobs at clubs. And that smile doesn’t work on me." Harry tapped Orlando’s nose. "You’ve got five minutes to change clothes."
Orlando wasted several seconds blinking at Harry. Then, without speaking, he was tearing up the stairs, trailing clothes in his wake. //Never say never.// He ignored Harry's laughter echoing up the stairs.
Four minutes and thirty-nine seconds later (and he knew because he timed it), Orlando skid to a halt in front of the library door. He peered in, and frowned when he saw the empty room. //Harry?//
//Outside, little one.//
//We taking the bike?// Making sure he had his wallet (because God knew the idiots at the club would probably card him), he strolled through the house and out the front door. Still no Harry.
//Garage.//
Figures, Orlando thought, and trudged his way across the grounds and to the darkened garage. A flash of silver danced before him and he caught the keys out of reflex before he even had a chance to realize what Harry had tossed at him. "These aren’t the bike keys."
"No one ever said you weren’t bright."
Impossible to resist the urge to stick out his tongue. Then he looked at the keys again. Huh. "These aren't for any of Karl's cars..." Orlando looked up, wary, and met Harry's gaze across the garage. "You don't let me drive your stuff."
"It’s not mine," Harry grinned. "And before you go off getting ideas, it’s not yours, either. It’s a restoration job for a friend." He cocked his head and Orlando swiveled around. And whistled, low and reverent. Even with his limited knowledge of cars, this was a thing of beauty. And class.
"What is it?" he breathed, feeling like he should be at church or some other holy place.
Harry strolled over to the low-slung car, and stroked a loving hand along a cherry red panel. "A 1952 Ferrari 340 Mexico Vignale Spyder. V12 engine, 280 horsepower, top speed 174 miles per hour. Built for the Carrera Panamerica Race." He grinned at Orlando’s blank look. "Just think of it as a very old, very rare, very fast toy."
"And you're going to let me drive it?" Orlando was suspicious. It sounded too good to be true. Just the idea of taking that car down all the twists and turns to get them into Hollywood.... No way in hell Harry was serious.
"No, I’m going to let you back it out of the garage. And look very good next to me while I drive it. Nice shirt, by the way. Karl’s?"
"No, mine." Orlando wrinkled his nose, then turned his attention back to the car. "Told you Karl just bought it for me." Back it out of the garage. He almost snorted. Figured.
"Close enough to Karl’s, then," Harry shrugged. "You just gonna look at it or are you getting in?"
"Be glad I didn't pick one of yours," Orlando retorted, opening the door and sliding behind the wheel. He closed his eyes for a moment, slid one hand along the dash. "This is nice. You sure I can't drive?"
Harry rocked back on his heels, small smile playing on his face as he watched Orlando. "You have any idea how long it took for me to find all the original parts and to rebuild it?"
Eyes still closed, Orlando cocked his head and smiled. "Is that a no?"
"Start the engine, little one," Harry said gently.
Smile fading just a little, Orlando opened his eyes and did as Harry said. He hummed low in his throat when the engine turned over. "Nice," he murmured, listening to the purr, feeling the power through the steering wheel.
"Should’ve been with me earlier when I was taking it for a spin on Mulholland. Baby can slide." Orlando’s smile returned at the little-boy glee in Harry’s voice. Boys and their toys, he thought, and wondered if Karl had seen the car yet. The idea that Harry might be showing it to him first sent a little thrill down his spine.
"Mulholland, hmm?" Orlando put the gear-stick in reverse, felt his own smile stretch wide as it responded to the softest touch. Very nice. "What'd you get up to on those curves?"
"Had it tacked into triple digits." Harry followed Orlando at a leisurely pace, but Orlando could feel Harry’s possessive stare. Whether it was for him or the car, he wasn’t certain. He decided he didn’t want to ask. Instead, he guided the car out of the garage and pulled the parking brake with something close to regret. This car was even sweeter than the Viper.
Harry opened the driver’s side door, and ruffled Orlando’s curls. "Slide over like a good boy and maybe, if you behave, I’ll let you drive home."
Orlando slid over and immediately pounced on the loophole. "Define behave."
Harry slid an arm around Orlando’s shoulders and eased the car down the drive. "My definition of behave."
Ah...going to be one of those nights. Orlando crinkled his nose, but scooted closer to Harry. "Doesn't seem very fair," he said once he firmly nestled, as close as he could be, against Harry's side.
Harry placed a kiss to Orlando’s forehead before turning onto Laurel. "I’m a Sinclair," he said. "We’ve never believed in fair."
"So you won't even give me a hint of what you're going to consider misbehaving?"
"If you think it’s misbehaving, then it is."
"You know," Orlando said, eyes focused on the road as Harry navigated each turn with ease, "your definition of misbehaving and Karl's are vastly different."
"I’m not Karl," Harry replied, and squeezed Orlando’s shoulder. "Be like me complaining that you’re not like Dave."
"I suppose." Orlando chewed his lip for a moment, then twisted until his lips were touching Harry's ear. "Drive faster."
He could feel, rather than see, Harry’s smile. "Now that would be misbehaving."
"Please?" A soft kiss, placed just below Harry's ear, accompanied the word. "I want you to show me what this car can do."
"What’s in it for me?" Rough grumble, but Harry’s thigh flexed under Orlando’s hand.
Orlando smiled as his teeth nipped Harry's earlobe. His fingers, still up to this point, began to slide along Harry's leg, traveling from knee to hip and back. "What's in it for you? Anything you want, love..." He couldn’t contain his glee when Harry revved the engine, taking the sharp turns, shifting gears with speed and reckless skill.
//Suppose you show me...//
//Just make sure you don't get pulled over.// Orlando didn't even bother trying to speak. Doubtful Harry would hear him over the wind anyway.
He could feel the car responding to Harry's easy touch, feel it surge forward as he slid his hand up Harry's inseam. Fuck, but this was better than he'd imagined. Then his fingers slipped over Harry's zipper, and Orlando grinned.
//Tease.// The word was an affectionate hum in Orlando’s mind as Harry flexed up. His eyes never once left the road, but the engine’s roar matched the dark thrill in Orlando’s chest as he tugged down on the zipper.
//Only a tease if I don't follow through.// Orlando grinned again, curled his fingers around Harry's cock. Harry's expression never changed, but his hips flexed once more in a not so subtle hint. Well, Orlando had said anything...
A moment later, he’d wedged himself under Harry’s arm, careful to avoid the steering wheel and gear-stick as he licked a slick stripe up the rigid length of Harry’s cock. Christ, but the taste was addictive, almost like he hadn’t just done this for Harry, hadn’t just had him. //Faster// he urged, and sucked Harry as far back in his throat as his position would allow.
Harry obliged, and Orlando could feel the chill rush of the wind over the top of the windshield as he used his lips and tongue in messy, fast slides. There wasn’t anything practiced or slow about this round -- Orlando wanted fast and hot and dangerous.
The angle he had his body in was awkward as hell, but damned if Orlando was going to stop long enough to move. Instead, he dropped a hand between Harry's knees, braced his palm against the floorboard.
Much better.
Now he could feel the smooth thrum of the engine as he moved, feel the burn of his bond with Harry as he licked and sucked. Much better, indeed. Now, there was new trick that he'd tried on Karl the other night...
He was rewarded with a deep, harsh growl, and he smiled around Harry’s cock as he tried it again -- a combination of tongue flutters and suction that had Harry’s hips lifting completely off the seat as he came. Tasted just as sweet as it had last time. Or maybe better.
Taking his time -- after all, there was no reason to rush -- Orlando tucked Harry’s cock back into his pants and zipped him before sitting up again. //Handles beautifully.// His grin was wide and unrepentant when Harry's eyes slid towards him.
"Definitely not my idea of behaving."
"I did ask," Orlando was quick to point out, still smiling.
"Where’d you learn that little tongue thing, anyway?" Harry glanced over when he stopped for a red light. "You been holding out on us with your playthings?"
"I don't have any playthings," Orlando said, voice low as he looked around before looking back to Harry. "It was just something I tried the other night with Karl."
"Bet he loved that."
"Well, it kinda scrambled his brains up for a bit." Orlando turned to Harry and grinned. Karl with his wits scrambled was something Orlando was going to remember for a long time.
"That's not exactly difficult for you to do," Harry pointed out, and swung into the valet parking area of the club with an ease that Orlando could only envy.
"I do have my uses." Another grin as Orlando crawled out of the car. He bounced impatiently on his heels as Harry gave very explicit instructions in rapid Spanish to the valet, and Orlando swore he saw a crisp hundred change hands when Harry handed over the keys. The bass from the club thumped through the walls, along the sidewalk, in Orlando’s blood. This was what he was talking about -- a hot night and plenty of room to dance.
And, finally, they were inside. Finally. Orlando closed his eyes, took a deep breath, let the music wash over him. He could feel Harry in his head, coiled there like an electrical storm on the verge of breaking, but it wasn't enough to keep him still. Not with a beat like that. //Drink first?//
//I plan on having several, thank you.//
Orlando laughed. His body was moving even as his head turned so he could look at Harry. //Why am I not surprised, love? Don't have too many, or you'll miss the floor show.//
He felt a fleeting caress across the back of his neck, but when he turned again, Harry had already blended into the shadows. //Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.//
Orlando had no doubts about that.
Easy enough to make his way to the dance floor. The crowd didn't so much move for him as flow around him. And more than one pair of eyes followed him. Not that he took more than a passing notice of any of them. He never did.
And tonight was going to be no exception because he simply wanted to enjoy himself. He just had to remember to stay out of trouble. He touched the bond he had with Harry, felt the love flowing through it as physical as any caress, then lost himself to the dark rhythm of the music. Primal and fast and more than a little raw. Perfect.
He closed his eyes and lost himself in the beat. Time slipped away, unnoticed, lost in the haze of pleasure that dancing gave him. Sweat rolled from his forehead, along his neck, plastered the silk shirt to his body as intimately as a lover. Songs changed -- sensual and earthy, followed by driving techno -- and through it all, he swayed and moved, at one with the music.
//Enjoying yourself, little one?//
Orlando opened his eyes, smiled at the amusement in Harry's question. Of course he was enjoying him...
Oh, hello.
(To Be Continued...)
Authors:
azewewish & idiosyncraticSeries Title: "Changes" (Part Eight)
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Harry Sinclair (Jake Gyllenhaal)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry’s stuck with babysitting duty. Claimed Universe Piece.
Feedback: Love it.
Disclaimer: Vampires still don’t exist. And we doubt that Harry and Orlando are fucking each other, let alone have their hooks in Jake. But you never know.
"It's my desire
To give myself to you"
-- Depeche Mode
"Harry," Orlando said, all smiles and innocence as he sidled up behind Harry's chair. "I want to go out." Crossing his arms over the back of the chair and leaning forward, Orlando flashed his most charming smile as his fingertips trailed across the back of Harry's neck. "Please?"
Harry didn’t even bother to glance up, which rather wasted the effect, Orlando thought. "Aren’t you grounded?"
Bastard would have to bring that night up.
"Well, it wasn't an actual grounding, right?" Taking his time, Orlando slid around the chair and perched on the arm. Near enough that it would be pretty close to impossible for Harry to ignore him. Which, Orlando thought, was the idea. "I mean, you know, I'm just not supposed to go out alone with Dave for a, um, while."
"Next century, if memory serves," Harry replied, mildly. Orlando frowned as he watched Harry continue to flip through his evening paper, looking every inch the relaxed man at leisure. Crisp white shirtsleeves rolled up, tie dangling loose around a strong neck, top two buttons undone, showing the barest hint of dark hair underneath. Yeah, Harry was pretty relaxed, alright. Which didn’t bode well at all.
Think, idiot. Orlando's hand came up, teeth nibbling at the side of his thumb as he studied Harry. Yeah, definitely relaxed. Fuck. Which mean that Orlando had a slightly better chance than a snowball in hell of getting Harry out of the house.
//Stop that.//
Orlando frowned again when Harry's hand came up and curled around his wrist, pulling his thumb from his mouth. "Well," Orlando said, striving for a casual tone, "I suppose I could just go out by myself, then. Just for a little while."
"Now you’re a comedian as well as an entrepreneur."
Orlando narrowed his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to jerk his hand out of Harry’s steadfast grasp. "Bastard."
"I’m wounded, truly." But the quick, wicked grin said something completely different. Harry flipped Orlando’s hand over, nails stroking along the palm in a slow, tantalizing sweep.
Okay, time to change tactics. With another smile, Orlando twisted around and slid down until he was sitting in Harry's lap. Just ignore the thumb moving over his palm. He could do it.
Right. Like he could ever ignore Harry.
"I'd be good," Orlando murmured, looking at Harry with wide eyes. "Promise."
"Do you even know what that words means?" Harry asked, but Orlando was pleased to see that Harry had at least dropped the paper to the floor and wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him close. Orlando snuggled into the warmth, instinctively dropping his ear to Harry’s chest to listen to the slow, steady heartbeat.
"I'm a quick learner," Orlando offered, body curling around Harry before he even thought about it. Nice. And something they didn't do far often enough anymore. What the hell...maybe he'd just stay....
Wait a sec. Uh uh. No.
Orlando's head popped up, and he gave Harry a level look. "You're trying to distract me."
"I would never do such a thing."
"Oh, and now you're lying to me." Orlando sniffed and gave a sad little shake of his head. "I'm crushed."
The kiss to surprised lips was far too brief. "I don’t think that’s the word I’d have chosen," Harry grinned. "Is there a reason you singled me out for babysitting duty and not Karl?"
"It's not babysitting," Orlando replied at once, eyes flashing with indignation. He started to sit up, thought better of it when Harry's arm tightened. "But if you don't want to go," he continued, calmer, fingers toying with the buttons on Harry's shirt, "I suppose I could ask Karl to take me to the club...."
"You think I’d trust the two of you alone anymore than I would trust you with Dave?" Harry placed a hand over Orlando’s, stilling his movements. "And you still haven’t answered my question."
Orlando sat very still, barely breathing as he looked at Harry's hand covering his. "We haven't spent much time alone lately," he finally said in a quiet voice. "And it's not that I don't love Karl and Dave, you know I do, it's just... Like with Karl. Sometimes I just, you know, want to spend time alone with you, and I thought that you might want to..."
"Go to a crowded club with you among teeming masses of people with music I can barely tolerate?" Harry yanked Orlando back to his chest before Orlando could protest or wiggle away. "None of that," he murmured, brushing another light kiss across Orlando’s curls. "If you want to go dancing and drive the male and female populations of Hollywood insane, far be it from me to deny you. But that's your idea of fun, not mine."
"I'll dance for you," Orlando murmured, peeking up at Harry through his lashes. He knew what Harry said, sure, but what Harry said wasn't always what Harry meant. And Orlando was going stir crazy in the house after the incident that had got him and Dave grounded (well into the next century, yes, thank you, he didn't need the reminder). At this point, he was willing to agree to any condition Harry made.
"You’ll dance for me anyway," and Orlando couldn’t really deny it. He’d pretty much do anything Harry asked of him, and they both knew it. "Question is, what will you be wearing?"
"Mmmm..." Orlando pretended to think it over as he twisted around to straddle Harry's lap. Much better. Leaning in to lick a slow stripe along warm skin, he grinned at Harry's soft growl. "I was thinking the black leather pants and the scarlet silk shirt Karl just bought me."
"Sounds like too much clothing to me, little one," Harry smirked, and yeah, Orlando could definitely see lust mixed in with the amusement.
"Well," Orlando said slowly, eyes heavy lidded, fingers working to unbutton Harry's shirt. "I suppose I could wear nothing..."
Much better. All that lovely skin to see and touch. He released a happy sigh as he flattened his palms against Harry's ribs. Harry shifted under him, muscles flexing under questing fingers. His head lolled back, but dark eyes were clear and intent when they focused on Orlando. "Does this mean you want a different sort of entertainment?" Harry asked, rumbly voice a husky murmur that sent shivers down Orlando’s spine.
"I still want to go out." Orlando's gaze never wavered, locked as it was with Harry's. His fingers continued to trace ancient scars, and he licked his lips, smiled slowly. "Thought maybe we could go to Miss Kitty's. Crowd there always amuses you. Or...you pick."
"Maybe you could convince me." Strong thighs bunched when Harry stretched underneath him, all lethal grace and potent seduction.
"Maybe I could," Orlando murmured. He flashed a wicked grin as one hand slid down Harry's stomach. Deft fingers unfastened Harry's dress slacks as Orlando slid back. "Don't suppose asking nicely will do?"
Harry grinned, running the tip of his tongue across sharp fangs. His knees fell open, hips arching to better facilitate Orlando’s movements. "Love, this is asking nicely."
"Oh?" One eyebrow lifted when Harry just continued to grin. Cocky bastard. Orlando leaned in, swiped his tongue over Harry's fangs, then slid backwards again. Only, this time, he didn't stop until he was kneeling between Harry's thighs.
//Getting warmer// and there was no denying the heat now. Just feeling the haze of lust and need pulsing through their bond was enough to make Orlando hard. He didn’t even question how Harry did it anymore. What would be the point when the reward was all of this?
//So why don't we make it really hot?// Harry tugged, and then Orlando's lips were wrapped around Harry's cock, tongue flicking across the head. Instantly, greedy hands slid through Orlando’s hair, gently guiding, encouraging. Not that Orlando needed much encouraging, but he loved the feel of calloused fingers sifting over his scalp. The heavy, hot taste of Harry filled his senses as he swept his tongue along the head. Harry growled his appreciation, and Orlando thought that there might not be a hotter sound in the universe.
//Like that?// Orlando smiled around Harry's cock, slid his lips down the shaft. One hand slid into Harry's trousers to cup his balls. The way Harry was moving, the sounds he was making, the sensations swamping their bond...all of it, fucking perfect. And damned if Orlando wasn't going to enjoy every second of it as he drew back a little, fangs delicately raking sensitive skin.
Harry growled again, low and indistinct, and he lifted his hips, pushing his cock deeper into Orlando’s mouth. Orlando took the hint, lips tightening along the shaft, tongue swirling in intricate patterns along the head. He continued to knead Harry’s balls, rolling them between his fingers as he sought to drive Harry completely out of his mind.
//Love doing this for you...// Orlando tipped his head just a bit, just enough to focus on Harry's face. Fuck all, but he was pretty sure there wasn't anything hotter than Harry like this. His fingers continued to move, sliding back to tease, then trailing up to circle the base of Harry's cock. Harry's fingers tightened in his hair, and Orlando smiled to himself. //Love the way you fuck my mouth...//
//Love the way you love my cock// and even Harry’s mental voice was all low and rumbly, sending delicious shivers all over Orlando’s body. Harry slid his hands to Orlando’s shoulders, holding them in a tight grip as he thrust up. Fuck yes, Orlando thought, and widened his mouth to take even more, wanted everything Harry had to give him, wanted Harry choking him, using him.
//Come for me, love// he urged, and was rewarded with Harry shuddering and brokenly moaning his name, coming in thick, jerky spurts down Orlando’s willing throat.
Still smiling, Orlando slid his tongue up Harry's cock one last time. Then he licked his lips, braced his hands on the arms of the chair, and slithered back up into Harry's lap. "You are," he murmured, lips just barely brushing Harry's, "the hottest fucking thing, you know that?" And he really was, with his eyes almost closed, faint flush high on his cheeks, lips parted as he breathed. Orlando tucked the image away to savor later, and covered Harry's lips with his.
The kiss was lazy and slow, but still over much too soon. Orlando lifted dazed eyes, and smiled, cat-like, when he sat back. "You look far too smug," Harry murmured, but Orlando could tell (or thought he could) that it was all bluster. The strong hands currently sliding along Orlando’s back were far more important.
"You always say that." His own eyes starting to close, Orlando arched his back, sighing happily when Harry's fingers traced his spine. Calluses and all, Harry's hands felt fucking amazing. With extreme reluctance, Orlando opened his eyes, focused on Harry. "So...convinced?"
"What, that you give a good blowjob? There was never any doubt, not with your mouth."
Dark eyes narrowed, and one slender index finger poked Harry in the center of the chest. "You're a right bastard," Orlando muttered. "My oral skills are legendary, thanks very much. I was talking about the club."
Harry lifted Orlando’s finger and bit the tip softly. "Now, what’ve I told you about giving blowjobs to strange men at clubs, hmm?"
Immediately, Orlando went wide-eyed and flashed Harry his most charming, innocent smile. "I doubt I'd find anyone stranger than you, so you're safe."
"Yes, but you’re not giving me blowjobs at clubs. And that smile doesn’t work on me." Harry tapped Orlando’s nose. "You’ve got five minutes to change clothes."
Orlando wasted several seconds blinking at Harry. Then, without speaking, he was tearing up the stairs, trailing clothes in his wake. //Never say never.// He ignored Harry's laughter echoing up the stairs.
Four minutes and thirty-nine seconds later (and he knew because he timed it), Orlando skid to a halt in front of the library door. He peered in, and frowned when he saw the empty room. //Harry?//
//Outside, little one.//
//We taking the bike?// Making sure he had his wallet (because God knew the idiots at the club would probably card him), he strolled through the house and out the front door. Still no Harry.
//Garage.//
Figures, Orlando thought, and trudged his way across the grounds and to the darkened garage. A flash of silver danced before him and he caught the keys out of reflex before he even had a chance to realize what Harry had tossed at him. "These aren’t the bike keys."
"No one ever said you weren’t bright."
Impossible to resist the urge to stick out his tongue. Then he looked at the keys again. Huh. "These aren't for any of Karl's cars..." Orlando looked up, wary, and met Harry's gaze across the garage. "You don't let me drive your stuff."
"It’s not mine," Harry grinned. "And before you go off getting ideas, it’s not yours, either. It’s a restoration job for a friend." He cocked his head and Orlando swiveled around. And whistled, low and reverent. Even with his limited knowledge of cars, this was a thing of beauty. And class.
"What is it?" he breathed, feeling like he should be at church or some other holy place.
Harry strolled over to the low-slung car, and stroked a loving hand along a cherry red panel. "A 1952 Ferrari 340 Mexico Vignale Spyder. V12 engine, 280 horsepower, top speed 174 miles per hour. Built for the Carrera Panamerica Race." He grinned at Orlando’s blank look. "Just think of it as a very old, very rare, very fast toy."
"And you're going to let me drive it?" Orlando was suspicious. It sounded too good to be true. Just the idea of taking that car down all the twists and turns to get them into Hollywood.... No way in hell Harry was serious.
"No, I’m going to let you back it out of the garage. And look very good next to me while I drive it. Nice shirt, by the way. Karl’s?"
"No, mine." Orlando wrinkled his nose, then turned his attention back to the car. "Told you Karl just bought it for me." Back it out of the garage. He almost snorted. Figured.
"Close enough to Karl’s, then," Harry shrugged. "You just gonna look at it or are you getting in?"
"Be glad I didn't pick one of yours," Orlando retorted, opening the door and sliding behind the wheel. He closed his eyes for a moment, slid one hand along the dash. "This is nice. You sure I can't drive?"
Harry rocked back on his heels, small smile playing on his face as he watched Orlando. "You have any idea how long it took for me to find all the original parts and to rebuild it?"
Eyes still closed, Orlando cocked his head and smiled. "Is that a no?"
"Start the engine, little one," Harry said gently.
Smile fading just a little, Orlando opened his eyes and did as Harry said. He hummed low in his throat when the engine turned over. "Nice," he murmured, listening to the purr, feeling the power through the steering wheel.
"Should’ve been with me earlier when I was taking it for a spin on Mulholland. Baby can slide." Orlando’s smile returned at the little-boy glee in Harry’s voice. Boys and their toys, he thought, and wondered if Karl had seen the car yet. The idea that Harry might be showing it to him first sent a little thrill down his spine.
"Mulholland, hmm?" Orlando put the gear-stick in reverse, felt his own smile stretch wide as it responded to the softest touch. Very nice. "What'd you get up to on those curves?"
"Had it tacked into triple digits." Harry followed Orlando at a leisurely pace, but Orlando could feel Harry’s possessive stare. Whether it was for him or the car, he wasn’t certain. He decided he didn’t want to ask. Instead, he guided the car out of the garage and pulled the parking brake with something close to regret. This car was even sweeter than the Viper.
Harry opened the driver’s side door, and ruffled Orlando’s curls. "Slide over like a good boy and maybe, if you behave, I’ll let you drive home."
Orlando slid over and immediately pounced on the loophole. "Define behave."
Harry slid an arm around Orlando’s shoulders and eased the car down the drive. "My definition of behave."
Ah...going to be one of those nights. Orlando crinkled his nose, but scooted closer to Harry. "Doesn't seem very fair," he said once he firmly nestled, as close as he could be, against Harry's side.
Harry placed a kiss to Orlando’s forehead before turning onto Laurel. "I’m a Sinclair," he said. "We’ve never believed in fair."
"So you won't even give me a hint of what you're going to consider misbehaving?"
"If you think it’s misbehaving, then it is."
"You know," Orlando said, eyes focused on the road as Harry navigated each turn with ease, "your definition of misbehaving and Karl's are vastly different."
"I’m not Karl," Harry replied, and squeezed Orlando’s shoulder. "Be like me complaining that you’re not like Dave."
"I suppose." Orlando chewed his lip for a moment, then twisted until his lips were touching Harry's ear. "Drive faster."
He could feel, rather than see, Harry’s smile. "Now that would be misbehaving."
"Please?" A soft kiss, placed just below Harry's ear, accompanied the word. "I want you to show me what this car can do."
"What’s in it for me?" Rough grumble, but Harry’s thigh flexed under Orlando’s hand.
Orlando smiled as his teeth nipped Harry's earlobe. His fingers, still up to this point, began to slide along Harry's leg, traveling from knee to hip and back. "What's in it for you? Anything you want, love..." He couldn’t contain his glee when Harry revved the engine, taking the sharp turns, shifting gears with speed and reckless skill.
//Suppose you show me...//
//Just make sure you don't get pulled over.// Orlando didn't even bother trying to speak. Doubtful Harry would hear him over the wind anyway.
He could feel the car responding to Harry's easy touch, feel it surge forward as he slid his hand up Harry's inseam. Fuck, but this was better than he'd imagined. Then his fingers slipped over Harry's zipper, and Orlando grinned.
//Tease.// The word was an affectionate hum in Orlando’s mind as Harry flexed up. His eyes never once left the road, but the engine’s roar matched the dark thrill in Orlando’s chest as he tugged down on the zipper.
//Only a tease if I don't follow through.// Orlando grinned again, curled his fingers around Harry's cock. Harry's expression never changed, but his hips flexed once more in a not so subtle hint. Well, Orlando had said anything...
A moment later, he’d wedged himself under Harry’s arm, careful to avoid the steering wheel and gear-stick as he licked a slick stripe up the rigid length of Harry’s cock. Christ, but the taste was addictive, almost like he hadn’t just done this for Harry, hadn’t just had him. //Faster// he urged, and sucked Harry as far back in his throat as his position would allow.
Harry obliged, and Orlando could feel the chill rush of the wind over the top of the windshield as he used his lips and tongue in messy, fast slides. There wasn’t anything practiced or slow about this round -- Orlando wanted fast and hot and dangerous.
The angle he had his body in was awkward as hell, but damned if Orlando was going to stop long enough to move. Instead, he dropped a hand between Harry's knees, braced his palm against the floorboard.
Much better.
Now he could feel the smooth thrum of the engine as he moved, feel the burn of his bond with Harry as he licked and sucked. Much better, indeed. Now, there was new trick that he'd tried on Karl the other night...
He was rewarded with a deep, harsh growl, and he smiled around Harry’s cock as he tried it again -- a combination of tongue flutters and suction that had Harry’s hips lifting completely off the seat as he came. Tasted just as sweet as it had last time. Or maybe better.
Taking his time -- after all, there was no reason to rush -- Orlando tucked Harry’s cock back into his pants and zipped him before sitting up again. //Handles beautifully.// His grin was wide and unrepentant when Harry's eyes slid towards him.
"Definitely not my idea of behaving."
"I did ask," Orlando was quick to point out, still smiling.
"Where’d you learn that little tongue thing, anyway?" Harry glanced over when he stopped for a red light. "You been holding out on us with your playthings?"
"I don't have any playthings," Orlando said, voice low as he looked around before looking back to Harry. "It was just something I tried the other night with Karl."
"Bet he loved that."
"Well, it kinda scrambled his brains up for a bit." Orlando turned to Harry and grinned. Karl with his wits scrambled was something Orlando was going to remember for a long time.
"That's not exactly difficult for you to do," Harry pointed out, and swung into the valet parking area of the club with an ease that Orlando could only envy.
"I do have my uses." Another grin as Orlando crawled out of the car. He bounced impatiently on his heels as Harry gave very explicit instructions in rapid Spanish to the valet, and Orlando swore he saw a crisp hundred change hands when Harry handed over the keys. The bass from the club thumped through the walls, along the sidewalk, in Orlando’s blood. This was what he was talking about -- a hot night and plenty of room to dance.
And, finally, they were inside. Finally. Orlando closed his eyes, took a deep breath, let the music wash over him. He could feel Harry in his head, coiled there like an electrical storm on the verge of breaking, but it wasn't enough to keep him still. Not with a beat like that. //Drink first?//
//I plan on having several, thank you.//
Orlando laughed. His body was moving even as his head turned so he could look at Harry. //Why am I not surprised, love? Don't have too many, or you'll miss the floor show.//
He felt a fleeting caress across the back of his neck, but when he turned again, Harry had already blended into the shadows. //Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.//
Orlando had no doubts about that.
Easy enough to make his way to the dance floor. The crowd didn't so much move for him as flow around him. And more than one pair of eyes followed him. Not that he took more than a passing notice of any of them. He never did.
And tonight was going to be no exception because he simply wanted to enjoy himself. He just had to remember to stay out of trouble. He touched the bond he had with Harry, felt the love flowing through it as physical as any caress, then lost himself to the dark rhythm of the music. Primal and fast and more than a little raw. Perfect.
He closed his eyes and lost himself in the beat. Time slipped away, unnoticed, lost in the haze of pleasure that dancing gave him. Sweat rolled from his forehead, along his neck, plastered the silk shirt to his body as intimately as a lover. Songs changed -- sensual and earthy, followed by driving techno -- and through it all, he swayed and moved, at one with the music.
//Enjoying yourself, little one?//
Orlando opened his eyes, smiled at the amusement in Harry's question. Of course he was enjoying him...
Oh, hello.
(To Be Continued...)
