Not that it was ever a bad time for Sean to call. After all, he was Sean, and, as such, got first dibs on Orlando's time. Sean's low chuckle was a slithering, sexy sound of beauty. Just like Sean, really, to get Orlando all hot and bothered while he was trying to drive. And just like Sean, in his typical Northern way, to get Orlando hot and bothered when they weren't even on the same continent, let alone the same city. Orlando tried very hard not to be depressed by this fact. He'd gotten used to having Sean around the past few months. "Who said I was getting you anything?" Sean asked, amusement still clear in his voice. "I did, just now." "I see." Orlando headed onto Holloway, pondered what to do with the rest of his evening, since what he wanted, he couldn't have, what with Sean being in London and not in L.A. and all. Tea sounded good. It was chilly enough out tonight cold for Los Angeles, at any rate, with a biting wind and a temperature drop that had everyone in the city breaking out their Uggs and fuzzy scarves. Orlando wondered how such thin-blooded people ever survived real weather. It was colder than this in London in September, honestly. Which was one of the reasons he wasn't in London. Of course, London did have Sean, who was good amazingly good, in fact at warming him up in a variety of creative ways. He shook his head quickly, focused on the conversation at hand, and not on Sean and his creativeness. Wouldn't do to get into yet another accident. "We are friends, aren't we?" he asked, turning south on Westbourne. "And friends buy each other gifts." Another low chuckle that went straight to Orlando's cock and settled in to stay. "Is that what we're calling it these days?" "What else would we call it?" "I don't normally like to bugger my friends blind as time permits." "Friends with benefits," Orlando replied, and shivered inwardly at the promise in Sean's voice. He was totally playing with Orlando on purpose, and the worst part was, Orlando knew it. Knew it, and had no defense against it. "And, as such, I expect a bloody memorable gift." "I suppose you'll expect me to deliver it in person." "Can't thank you properly for it if you don't." Orlando could practically feel Sean's frown. "Define proper." Instantly, Orlando thought of a dozen possibilities for a proper thank you, each one more graphic than the last. At this rate, he'd be heading home for some much needed tension relief. "I'll think of something appropriate to the gift. Depending on how special it is." "Highway robbery is what this is," Sean grumbled, but they both knew it was mostly for effect. Sean was ever one for keeping up appearances, even with Orlando, who knew Sean better than practically anyone. "Yes, but I'm worth it," Orlando replied, and crowed silently in triumph when he found a parking spot only a block away from Urth Caffe. The wind whipped under his jacket, and he shoved his hands into his pockets for warmth. If Sean was here with him, instead of across the world, or close enough to it, Orlando would have already tried putting his hands in Sean's pockets instead. And would have definitely already been snuggled against Sean for warmth. "Why aren't you here, anyway?" "Because I'm here?" Which was a stupid reason to be somewhere when he could be keeping Orlando warm. "Fly out. Spend Christmas with me." It wasn't until Orlando said the words that he realized he honestly, truly wanted Sean here with him for the holidays. They could pretend to be domestic and have sex under the mistletoe. "I've got a better idea," Sean said. Orlando wasn't sure how anything was better than sex with Sean, under mistletoe or not, but he was willing to entertain the thought. "Which is?" "Come back home for Christmas. Collect your gift here." "What, fly to London?" Orlando thought about it for a minute. Shivered as another gust of wind stole under his collar. "What's the weather like?" "Fucking frigid," Sean laughed. "But I'll keep you warm, y'daft cunt." Orlando felt the corners of his lips tugging upwards. "Define warm." Sean's voice dropped again, became something intimate and filled with promise, and the tone was one that never failed to make Orlando ache with want. "Come home and find out." *** Less than twenty-four hours later, Orlando stepped out of a cab, slung his overnight bag onto his shoulder, and wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck to ward off the bitter cold. The walk up Sean's drive was, thankfully, a short one. He rocked back on his heels after ringing the buzzer, schooled his features into something resembling nonchalance. And fought hard to maintain it when Sean answered the door wearing only a pair of faded jeans that were lovingly molded to strong thighs and an equally faded shirt that clung to sculpted shoulders. Sean transferred his cigarette from one hand to the other, smoke wreathing around his shaggy mop of hair as he leaned against the doorjamb, and gave Orlando a thorough, heated once-over that missed nothing. "Well. That didn't take long." "Did you miss me?" Orlando asked, and neatly plucked Sean's cigarette from his fingers as he very deliberately brushed past Sean to step inside and out of the wicked chill. Sean shut the door behind him. Instantly, the temperature in the room warmed a good ten degrees. "Get yer own cig if you want one." "Cranky old man," Orlando replied with a grin, and turned to face Sean. Christ, but he was a welcome sight. "I bet you yell at kids to stay off your lawn." "If they need it." "I knew it." "Piss off. And give me back my fag." Orlando's grin was wicked, quick. "Ask me nicely." "Nice is boring," Sean replied, and yanked on Orlando's hand to haul him close for a slow kiss of welcome that heated Orlando's entire body and had spots dancing behind his eyes. No matter how many times he kissed Sean and he planned on keeping up with the practice until they were both old and wrinkled all over and gray the first thrill of Sean's lips on his after a long absence was a visceral shock to the system. One day he might get used to it. But he fervently hoped not. "Now that, love, is a proper welcome," Orlando sighed happily when they parted for air. Sean hummed in agreement, then bumped his forehead softly against Orlando's. "You didn't have to thieve off me in order to get a kiss hello." "No, but this way is more fun," Orlando said, and dropped onto the sofa, putting the cigarette out in the nearby ashtray with a deft twist of his wrist. Sean settled in next to him, warm and tousled and so insanely sexy he made Orlando's toes curl. "So...why'm I here? In London. In the fuck-off cold, I might add, which was why I left for warmer climes to start with." Sean tapped on his chin as if in deep thought. "Your family's here?" "I had been planning on flying them out to Los Angeles for some surfing and sun." "At Christmas?" Sean shook his head sadly. Bangs fells into his eyes, and Orlando reached out to push them out of the way, lingering on warm skin. "Really, Orlando, that's hardly traditional." "We surfed at Christmas in New Zealand," Orlando pointed out. And Christ, but that entire week Sean, surfing, so much sex they'd all but exhausted each other, grilling out, drinking and exchanging outrageously silly gifts had to rank up there in one of his all-time best memories. Funny how many of the top five featured Sean and surfing, come to think on it. Clearly, his happiness had a theme. From Sean's smirk, it was clear he was thinking the same thing as Orlando. "Yeah, and it was grand, but we're not bloody Kiwis now, are we. Let's leave that brand of lunacy to the likes of Karl." Karl was a special sort and that probably why he got on so well with Viggo. Orlando bounced once on the sofa, tested the springs. "So, why am I here, then?" "I'm here?" Sean suggested, with his best leer. Not surprisingly, Orlando's body reacted to it as he did to just about everything Sean did. "You could have joined us at the beach." "My girls are here," Sean replied softly, simply, and that was that. "That's not playing fair," Orlando grumbled, even as he slid closer. Sean met him halfway, and the kiss was both apology and thanks all rolled into one. "When've I ever played fair?" Sean murmured, tracing the laugh lines around Orlando's mouth with a finger. "True." Sean snaked the other arm around Orlando's waist. "C'mon, now, no pouting, as cute as it is. I've got plans for us now that you're here." Plans sounded intriguing. Especially when Sean said the word in that sexy growl he knew drove Orlando crazy. "Plans?" "Aye." Another kiss, this one firm, quietly possessive. "You'll love it, I promise." There wasn't a lot about Sean that Orlando didn't love. Not that he went about telling anyone this or that he needed to. "What's my gift, then?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "Greedy bugger." "Yes, and you love me for it." "Possibly. Be here tomorrow night, eight-ish. We'll make a night of it." "Excellent. How should I dress? Or should I dress at all?" "Taken care of." Orlando frowned. "Cheeky." Sean's smile crinkled his eyes. "You're the one that wanted something memorable." "True enough." Orlando glanced around, then slid a sidelong glance at Sean. Still sexy and warm and rumpled nestled next to him. "Ready for the hot, sweaty reunion sex, then?" Sean reached out to unwind Orlando's scarf from his neck. "I thought you'd never ask." *** The sheets on the bed still smelled of fabric softener when Sean pushed Orlando down and settled on top of him. They tugged and grabbed at clothing in uncoordinated haste, eager for skin on skin, careless of everything except the fact that they were finally reunited. "Nice and slow, yeah," Sean murmured, and Orlando could only nod, a willing slave to whatever Sean wanted from him. He slid his hands along Sean's back, testing firm muscle, and slid into the next kiss with equal fervor and need. By the time they were both naked, Orlando was so in tune with Sean that every slight shift, every sigh of need, was anticipated, answered within the space of a heartbeat. Every single time, and he no longer even wondered these days how Sean did it, no longer cared. It was enough that Sean's hands were on him, firm and assured. It was enough that Sean's skin was warm, supple beneath his own touch, that Sean's rough moans were for him and him alone, that Sean knew how to make him beg without breaking him. He rolled over until he was straddling Sean's hips, nipped on a full lower lip as he grasped Sean's lube-slick cock, guided it inside him with one smooth movement. "Slow," he groaned, then shivered, pleasure sweeping through him, as Sean's hands imprinted themselves on Orlando's thighs, holding him steady as he started to ride Sean's cock. Nice and easy and perfect, like they had all the time in the world, like it hadn't been months since they'd seen each other, since they'd been like this. His eyes fluttered open, locked with Sean's. He rocked slowly back and forth, Sean moving with him, under him. Even if this was all he got from this visit: this right here, Sean brokenly chanting his name, thick cock filling him over and over, Sean's hands on him, sweat mingling with his, this was worth the long, very boring flight. But then, sweaty reunion sex with Sean was worth just about anything. *** "I still don't see why I have to wear a suit," Orlando grumbled the next night as he looked at his reflection in the mirror of Sean's spacious bathroom, eyeing the tastefully subdued slacks and dress shirt with distaste. His gaze moved toward Sean's reflection as the other man walked toward him, already dressed and perfectly groomed, every inch the cultured gentlemen. A small smile curved Orlando's lips as he thought about how decidedly ungentlemanly Sean could get when properly motivated. Shame Orlando was so curious about this 'memorable' night Sean had planned, otherwise he'd put that motivation to the test. Sean turned Orlando around, slowly started buttoning his pressed white shirt. "Because, love, this night was your idea. And you're an adult. Occasionally it's nice of you to actually dress like one instead of in those baggy jeans you're so fond of." Sean lingered over each button, fingers brushing against each inch of tanned skin he covered. Orlando's pulse fluttered at the light contact, lost in brilliant green eyes and a mischievous smile. "You know, I can do this myself," Orlando said, but made no move to take over the task. In truth, he'd be just as happy if Sean never stopped touching him. Soft of him, really, but there it was. Sean simply tucked Orlando's shirt in black dress pants, the tips of his fingers grazing along Orlando's hips. "I know." He placed a soft kiss on Orlando's waiting lips. "But it's much more fun when I do it." "Actually, it's more fun when you undress me," Orlando replied, and reached between them to run a practiced hand along Sean's inseam. "Or, better yet, when I undress you." "We'll be late," Sean muttered. Orlando smiled into the expert lips sliding over his. "So...we'll be fashionable." "Since when've you ever worried about fashion?" "I don't," Orlando replied, and made a move to draw down Sean's zipper. Sean placed his hand over Orlando's, stilling it. "When we get back, I promise." "Oh, fine," Orlando grumbled, without heat. "But you owe me." "Of course, I do." Sean sketched out a half-bow. "My lips and body are, as always, yours." "Damn right they are," Orlando laughed, and pressed a kiss to said lips to drive the point home. *** "Ooooh, posh," Orlando commented, looking around the dining room with a low whistle. A string quartet was in a corner, softly playing something that sounded like Chopin or maybe Vivaldi. Something classical and light, at any rate. Tuxedoed wait staff glided around tables, gracefully balancing trays filled with exotic looking drinks and even more exotic looking food. Everyone seated looked dressed for the opera or someplace equally pretentious. Orlando was suddenly glad of his hand-picked suit, and spent a moment straightening a non-existent crease on his jacket. "Looks like the sort of place one takes a girl to propose," he added, and gave Sean a cheeky grin. "You got a ring in your pocket for me, is that it?" "Hardly." The corners of Sean's mouth twitched. "I don't think I could handle the responsibility of you full-time." Orlando's eyes narrowed. "I'm not that bad." "Diamonds aren't your style, then, how's that?" "Much better," Orlando nodded, ego appeased, and followed Sean and the maitre-d to their secluded, corner table. Once they were seated, and menus were placed in front of them, Orlando looked around again. "Seriously, Sean, why are we here? You know I'd have been just as happy with market fish and chips and the match on the telly before we tumbled back into bed." "Yes, well, you said special." There was something in Sean's voice that Orlando (who did, after all, consider himself an expert) had never heard before. Mystery, from Sean, that was definitely something new. He decided to play along. After all, he loved surprises as well as the next bloke, and if it meant spending more time in Sean's company, then it was already a good night. "So I did." He glanced down at the wine list. "This mean I'm getting the full extravagant treatment?" "I seem to remember you promising me something in return..." "Ah, like that, is it. A bit of the old tit for tat," Orlando nodded, and ran his foot along Sean's calf under the tablecloth. "What were you thinking of in terms of reciprocation?" "Why don't I let you decide what you think the evening is worth at the end?" Sean suggested with a wink. "Depends on how much you're shelling out for my services." The look Sean gave him screamed of hard, wall-banging sex. Orlando's cock got painfully, instantly hard. "You'd bend over and poke that gorgeous arse of yours for me for free." Couldn't argue with logic like that. Not that Orlando wanted to. He cleared a suddenly clogged throat. "Well, yes, but I do appreciate the sentiment in making me feel like I'm wooable." Sean lounged back, point having been made. Smug bastard. He was lucky he made it work for him. "Wasn't it you that did the wooing back on 'Rings'?" "Possibly." "I seem to remember coming home one night to find you naked in my bed." Oh, and what a night that had been. Another one of Orlando's top five. Possibly in the top three, even. "Well, that wasn't so much wooing as just getting bloody tired of the flirting and wanting to get to the actual sex portion of our relationship." "That was a damn good night," Sean grinned, and Orlando returned it until the sommelier came to the table with their bottle of wine. Dining four-star with Sean was its own sort of revelation. Most times when Orlando found himself in Sean's company and they weren't having screamingly fantastic sex everything was chips and vinegar, dark lager, smoke-filled pubs or Sean's living room or hotel suite, and Sean was wearing jeans and possibly an oxford, if he bothered with clothing at all. This side of Sean the posh Englishman about town, who knew how to order the correct wine with appetizers and wore impeccable suits and could converse about the Allegro Non Molto or whatever it was the string quartet was playing was somewhat of a shock. It was sort of like discovering a well-loved book all over again. The analogy amused Orlando during appetizers and salad, and during dinner, when talk inevitably turned to scripts they were currently reading, projects they were currently thinking about taking, the upcoming possible SAG strike and what that might mean for future work, Orlando was surprised at how much he'd missed this. Just the two of them talking. Silly, really, since he'd spent the better part of the summer while he'd been in London for his play, parked on Sean's sofa when he wasn't in the theatre, discussing the day's performances, his role, and theatre in general, but that had mostly been about him. And the conversations had inevitably led to Sean either laying him out on the bed and fucking him, or being fucked by him, until they'd fallen asleep or the two of them snogging all night on the sofa. Funny how much he'd gotten used to the idea of having Sean around. "This was really nice," he said over dessert some cream and chocolate confection that melted on his tongue. He idly wondered what it would taste like off of Sean's body, which led to an internal debate on whether he should order one to take home with them to find out. And if Sean was in the mood to mess up his sheets. He tended to be somewhat fastidious about them at times. "S'nice to mix it up," Sean agreed, eyes mysterious as they studied Orlando. "You do look rather dashing in the suit, you know." "Imagine all the fun you'll have peeling me out of it later." "Oh, I have. All night, in fact." "I feel like such an object," Orlando lamented, with an exaggerated sigh. "I'd say sorry, but I wouldn't mean it." "Of course not," Orlando murmured. Nor would he have Sean any other way. Viggo and Eric both used to tease him about how easy he always was for Sean, but he'd always replied that being easy was getting him laid, and laid very well, so it was all worth it in the end. Orlando privately thought they were both jealous of what he had with Sean. Not that he ever stated such a thought aloud of course. "So," he said, cupping his chin in his hand and looking expectantly across the table. "Where's my gift?" "The gift of my company and loud, banging sex later not enough for you?" "Of course it is, but we've already established that I'm greedy." "Fine then, I made a rather sizeable donation to one of your innumerable green charities." Orlando perked up. "Really?" "Mmhmm." Unexpected, but completely like Sean. "That's fantastic. And for that, you get the special treatment later," he said, and waggled is eyebrows. Sean let out a low laugh. "Excellent." "Now where's my real gift?" "Oh, fine, go on," Sean sighed, and fished a small box with slightly flattened ribbons out of his suit jacket. It was a very small box. Orlando eyed it suspiciously. "You sure you're not proposing, then?" "Absolutely not, I'm done with marriage, even if you are prettier than my ex-wives," Sean replied, and tapped the top of the box. "Now open it before you explode with curiosity." Sean definitely knew him. Orlando didn't need a second invitation. He tore the ribbons off and lifted the top. A rather nicely ornate brass key ring with three keys looked back up at him. "What's this?" he asked, lifting the ring out of the box. The keys jangled together softly. "They're keys." "Stop taking the piss. Keys to what?" "My place," Sean said softly. Orlando lost all of the feeling in his limbs and the breath from his lungs. "Are you...?" "I liked having you underfoot this past summer," Sean shrugged, the motion shifting his jacket across broad shoulders. "Got me to thinking that maybe it's time we made a proper go of it before I get entirely too old to keep up with you." "As if you could," Orlando scoffed. Sean was eternal as far as that went. He looked down at the keys again, already clutched tightly in his hand. A proper go of it. Sounded nice. Hell, it sounded bloody perfect. He was certain everything he was feeling had to be shining out of his eyes when he lifted them, sought Sean's. "And you say you're not romantic." "I'm not. This isn't an invite to move in and rearrange the place." "I know what it is," Orlando replied with his own smile. After all, he did consider himself an expert on Sean. "I'll get you keys made to mine as well." "Which one, here or L.A.?" "All of them," Orlando grinned. "Now you know I'll only use this power for evil, yes?" "Define evil." "Sneaking in at all hours to wake you up for sex." "Ah, well, I suppose I'll have to make that sacrifice," Sean replied, with a shrug that fooled neither of them. "And to return the favor, of course." "I expect nothing less. And this," he jangled the keys for emphasis, "definitely requires lots of sex as a very proper thank you." "Why else d'you think I did it?" Sean asked with a smirk. "I love you too, Sean." Sean's smile was soft. "Merry Christmas, Orlando." If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks! |