Q: What was the funniest thing that happened during filming of LotR? Orlando stopped his semi-drunken rambling and started laughing again, holding his aching sides. "Oh Jesus, Dommie...you're..." He couldn't finish the sentence, just sank to the floor himself, overcome with guffaws that were beginning to sound suspiciously like giggles -- not that he ever giggled, of course. Giggles were for 12 year-old girls...well, and Elijah, who really was a 12 year-old girl. Orlando was convinced. Dom rolled over, shoved himself into a sitting position, kicked a leg out at Orlando, laughter still rolling through him in weak waves. "St-stop. I'm gonna have to be sedated or something." "You fall asleep and I'll tie you to the tree out front in your knickers, and cover you with honey, let the ants have at you." Orlando thought that was the funniest thing he'd said all night, and the image of Dom, covered in honey, begging for mercy was a really good one...even though, for some odd reason, the image wasn't as funny as he thought it would be. Odd that he was still breathless, though. "Sod off, you couldn't even lift me," Dom grumbled, rubbing his ribs, faded t-shirt riding high, showing glimpses of fair skin. Orlando was only staring because...God, he was staring, wasn't he? Fuck...he brought his eyes back to Dom's face, hoping his faint blush was only internal. "I think I bruised something," Dom continued, smiling as he rubbed just under his sternum. "Well, I'd offer to kiss it and make it better for you, but you'd probably just get off on it, ya perv." There. Stated in just the right mixture of friendly banter and teasing innuendo. Orlando had practically invented the technique. He didn't mention that the idea of running his lips across the trail of light hairs disappearing into Dom's boxer shorts had him...fuck, he was blushing again. Time for another beer. Dom sprang up, and followed Orlando into his tiny kitchen. "Me? Heh. You wish. One taste of the Monaghan Special and you'll be ruined for all others." "That so?" Orlando chuckled again, passing Dom another beer, checking the refrigerator to see if any food had mysteriously appeared since the last time he'd checked. Nope. Guess he'd be forced to go shopping, after all. He shut the door, crossed his arms, bottle dangling loosely from between two fingers. "You forget, I've seen you in action. You can't kiss for dick." Which should have cooled off the last of this breathless...whatever...Orlando was feeling. "Can so." Dom's mouth was slightly open in a pout that should have looked ridiculous. But didn't. "I'll have you know I've been called an Oral God," he stated, poking a finger at Orlando's chest. "Oral God?" Orlando pursed his lips, chewed the lower one...the fresh bout of laughter threatening to bubble out would kill him if he gave into it. He refused to admit that the idea of Dom being an Oral God (and who used a phrase like that, anyway?) had him looking at Dom's lips in an entirely new light. Fuck, he needed a grip. Instead, he took a healthy swig of beer and watched as Dom's grey eyes went wide with indignation. "You're maligning my abilities, mate." Dom nodded sharply to emphasize. He slammed his unopened beer on the counter, gestured at Orlando with a determined wave of his hand. "Come on, then. We'll settle this." "We will? How we gonna do that?" Dom rolled his eyes, grabbed a fistful of Orlando's shirt, yanked him into heat. "I'm going to kiss you," he stated, as if it was the most perfectly natural thing in the world. Like he and Orlando had done this a million times before, like Dom always went around kissing his mates. And, before Orlando was quite able to wrap his brain around the concept, Dom's lips were on his, and... ...okay, he took it back. All of it. Dom was...Orlando moaned as Dom's tongue swept across his teeth, licked the roof of his mouth, moist lips conforming to his, slipping, sliding in careless heat. Orlando flailed, tried to regain balance, couldn't. Could only sink in deeper, snaking his tongue to meet Dom's, taunting and retreating, daring Dom to follow. Should've remembered Dom lived for dares. Both were panting, chests heaving for an entirely different reason when Dom finally drew back, licking bruised lips as if trying to capture the last bit of Orlando's taste. Orlando wanted to ask him what the hell that was all about, but all that came out was a breathless "Oh." Dom untangled his hands from Orlando's shirt, and Orlando let go of his death grip on Dom's arm, stepping back and gulping his beer in a daze, needing moisture, needing distance. Dom watched him with a raised eyebrow. "Well?" Orlando lowered the bottle, eyed his friend...yes, his friend, still...with a hard stare. He didn't want to make a wrong move here, didn't want to fuck that up. Dom returned his gaze steadily, and Orlando saw everything he needed to see in mischievous eyes. "Can you do anything else with that mouth of yours?" he teased, leaning back in, taking the bait, welcoming the heat. Dom grabbed the back of his head, strong fingers closing around his neck. "I was hoping you'd ask," he murmured, just before those lips were on Orlando's again.
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