This being, of course, getting ready to knock on Karl's door so he could fuck Orlando Bloom. When the hell had his life gone from mildly boring to utterly ridiculous? Probably right around the time Karl had dropped next to him in between takes and blithely told him to be at his place at 7 to tutor Orlando in the ways of male sex. Karl had then given him a quick pat on the shoulder and left, whistling some tune Sala had thought might have been "Sexy Sadie" but wasn't certain. Sala had been too shocked to even be shocked. Fuck, not even his thoughts were making sense. Karl answered on the first hesitant knock while Sala was debating coming, going, leaving a note, pretending the invite had never happened, and why was he here again? Didn't he have better things to do with his Friday nights? Apparently not. "Good, you're early," Karl said, flashing a bright smile. Fucker had to know that he could talk just about anyone into anything with that smile. Probably why Harry let him get away with half the shit he did. "We can have a beer and set up a few things." Set up? Oh fuck, no way they were filming. "See, here's the thing," Sala started. "I'm not sure..." "Oh, sure you are." Karl dragged him into the spacious living room. "You're just having nerves because I'm here." "It is your house." But, yeah, Karl was right. This would be a completely different playing field, so to speak, if things between him and Orlando had just, y'know, happened. Like normal folk. Well, normal except for the guy on guy bit, which still made Sala twitch sometimes when he thought too closely about it. Latent straight genes and all. But, no, Karl had to be involved, and that boy had a talent for complicating things. Another reason Sala didn't get the whole Karl with Harry thing. Harry was so simple he made single-celled organisms look complex. "Beer?" Karl asked, heading for the kitchen. "Yeah, sure." Although what Sala really wanted was a whiskey. Maybe a double. Karl came back with two fresh, cold bottles, and Sala savored the tart malt tang on his tongue. Alright, maybe beer wasn't such a bad idea. "So, listen, about this whole..." "Sit." Karl tugged Sala on the sofa beside him. "Christ, the two of you'd think you'd never done this before." "Not in front of you, I haven't." Or any audience for that matter. "Orlando wants me here to give him pointers, I'll stay and give the man pointers," Karl grinned. "Never said I wasn't above being a voyeur." "Why the hell is he doing this again?" "Something about a hot guy he wants to shag on some other film." "Oh." Well, that certainly put things all in perspective. "So, what, he's just using me?" "Pretty much, yeah." "Alright," Sala nodded, clinking his bottle to Karl's. That made it much better. Using each other? Well, that he could handle. "I'll do it." "I never thought you wouldn't," Karl grinned. "I mean, it's Orlando. If Harry weren't my ideal in so many ways, I'd have done this myself." "Harry would kill you if you tried anything and we know it." "True." Karl tipped his bottle back and took a long swallow. "Not that I really want to do anyone else. You want a snack or anything?" Sala surprised himself by nodding. "Yeah, I could eat." "Probably need carbs for stamina," Karl winked, leading Sala back to the kitchen. "My stamina is fine, I'll have you know." "We'll soon find out." Karl unscrewed a jar of salsa and threw it in a saucepan with a container of Velveeta and a can of chili. "What are you making?" "Queso dip." Karl placed the concoction in the microwave. "What? It's quick and easy. Orlando'll be here soon, and we still need to get ready." "Yeah, about that whole getting ready bit," Sala said, leaning against the counter. "What, exactly, did you mean?" "Just what you thought. You want another beer?" Sala glanced at his bottle and was surprised to see it was empty. "Yeah. No, wait. Whiskey, three fingers, neat. You are not filming us." "The fuck I'm not." Karl grabbed a bottle of Jameson's and handed it to Sala. "Here. Keep the bottle. You'll probably need it." "Karl, you're not. You can't be. I won't have my hairy, bouncing ass winding up on Ebay being sold to the highest bidder." "Of course not." Sala breathed a sigh of relief. "It'll be Orlando's hairy, bouncing ass if I do decide to sell it, which I'm not, so relax already." "Orlando's?" Sala blinked, then blinked again. "Wait just a minute. I thought..." "Shouldn't think, bad for your health." Karl shoved a steaming bowl of queso dip in Sala's hands. "I'll grab the chips. Go sit." Sala obeyed automatically, brain whirring into overdrive. Karl settled across from him, tossing a bag of tortilla chips across the table. "Karl, he's...um...I mean..." Sala munched on a dip-laden chip automatically, brain still buzzing. "I've never been a bottom," he finally said, when he could trust himself to speak. "Well, Orlando's never fucked another guy up the ass, so you're both learning something new." Karl's grin was positively lethal. Sala took another pull from the bottle. "No, I mean, I've never been one. Not changing that." "Don't be nervous." Karl patted Sala's hand and grabbed a fistful of chips. "I'll be here. I'll make sure it's a pleasant experience for both of you." "Pleasant ex--" Sala sputtered, stopped. "Karl, I am not letting some novice fuck me." "How else is he gonna learn?" "He can watch gay porn, same as the rest of us did." Karl chuckled. "Ah, but you're a treasure." He continued to grin around a mouthful of dip. "What'd you think was going to happen tonight?" "I haven't really had a chance to think about any of it," Sala pointed out. The bottle of whiskey, he noted, was a quarter empty. May as well go for half. "But, y'know, I thought I'd be doing him. If anyone was going to be doing anyone. Which, you'll note, I haven't agreed to do anything yet." "You showed up. Agreement enough. 'Sides, you can do him after. Ease him into things, so to speak, by having him do you first." "I cannot believe I'm about to agree to be buggered by a virgin," Sala muttered. This really was just his luck. Had to be the alcohol talking. Sala wondered if Karl had laced it with anything. Wouldn't surprise him. It was Karl, after all. Karl petted his hand again. "Don't sweat it. I'll make sure he sucks you off first." "Great. Probably use teeth." Karl shook his head. "Such an optimist. I am going to be here to tutor him." "Yeah, I know," Sala said, tilting back the bottle again. "That's what scares me." *** Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, Sala thought sometime later. His limbs felt pleasantly numb, the bottle was definitely half-empty, and Orlando fucking Bloom was messily sucking his cock like he was going to be graded on it later. Which he might be. Karl had been a pretty strict teacher so far. But maybe...ahyeahrightthere...Karl could grade Orlando on a curve. Enthusiasm certainly counted for a lot in his opinion. Orlando was definitely enthusiastic. Slick, twist, up, down, glide, full lips and soft tongue wrapped tight around his cock like the snuggest of warm, winter coats. Mmmm...good analogy, that. Orlando's mouth as fleece. Sala dug his fingers into dark curls and practically melted into the sofa. Jesus, this felt good. Really, sublimely, fucking good -- like maybe the best blowjob he'd had all day. Alright, so it was the only blowjob he'd had all day, but, yeah, Godyeah... "Ease up a bit, Orlando, or you're going to choke." Sala peered at Karl, who was sprawled next to him. "Hesfine," Sala mumbled, stroking Orlando's curls. Just for reassurance. Doin' fine, lad, doin' just fine. Orlando mumbled his appreciation with some hot little tongue flicking, licking thing that had Sala's throat closing. Fuckfuckfuck...ohyeah...Christ, kid was talented. Innate or something, 'cause, mmm... "His mouth'll be sore the way you're fucking it," Karl said. Sala waved a hand, like he was trying to shoo away an irritating fly. He wasn't being that rough. 'Sides, Orlando kept sucking him like a lollipop, so he had to be enjoying it. "Orlando, love, give it a rest for a moment, breathe." Orlando pulled off with a wet, popping sound. Sala whimpered in protest. "What now?" Orlando asked, working the stiffness from his jaw. Fine, maybe Karl'd had a point, Sala thought. Still wasn't any need to be rude and tell Orlando to stop. "Should I learn to swallow?" Yesyes, please, let's learn to swallow. Good idea. Sala turned pleading eyes to Karl. He wasn't above begging at this point. Hell, his cock was so hard all Orlando would need to do was breathe on it. "Not just yet," Karl said. Bastard. Sala growled, baring his teeth. Definitely killing Karl as soon as he could move without hurting something. "Karl..." Karl smoothed a hand over Sala's shoulder. "Later. Let's move onto the next bit." "And then we can go back to that wrist-roll thing?" Orlando asked, eyes bright with longing, and Sala could have kissed that beautiful, heavenly, made-to-suck-his-cock mouth. Yeahyeah, definitely go back to the wrist-roll. That had been very nice -- and quite the surprise. No wonder Harry was such a smug bastard all the time, if Karl knew tricks like that one. Karl smirked, lazily let his gaze wander from Orlando to Sala. "Yeah, alright. God, you two are a pair." "Always willing to give my body to science." Orlando chuckled and gave Sala a noisy, sloppy kiss. "I'm glad this is with you." "Somehow, I think I should be insulted by that, but I'm not." Orlando crawled from Sala's lap to Karl's, and kissed him, just as long and intense. "Wow," Orlando breathed, blinking owlishly. "I'll take that for the compliment it was." Karl let go of the back of Orlando's head and gestured at Sala. "Now, I believe you were going to fuck his brains out?" Fuck, Sala'd almost forgotten about that. Alright, was hoping they'd forgotten about it. "Couldn't we just go back to the swallowing bit?" he pleaded. He didn't mind that he was naked on Karl's beaten sofa. Or that Karl was still sitting next to him, fully dressed, mind, watching him get debauched in all kinds of X-rated ways. Hell, he didn't even care that Orlando wasn't even completely naked yet (he figured they'd get around to it). But there were some things he preferred not to have an audience for. "After," Karl promised. "Orlando, grab the bottle. Sala -- assume the position." Bastard was having entirely too much fun with this, Sala fumed. Bloody assume the position like he was some fucking virgin girl-thing or some sort of submissive. Not that his body cared. Oh no, silly thing was raring to go -- cock hard, body aching, nerves trembling, the whole bit. Shameless whore, that's what he was. Oh well, there were worse things. Wait, had he just -- ohohohJesus! -- guess he had. Definitely the alcohol talking. Otherwise there's no way he'd be on his knees, bent over the sofa, while Orlando pushed two slicked fingers into him, and all he could feel was a sharp wave of pleasure. Wasn't this supposed to hurt? Hmm...well, Orlando did have slender fingers. Perhaps that was it. "Gently, love," Karl was saying from somewhere above Sala's head. "Push past the resistance until you get to his prostate." "How will I know when I hit it?" Orlando asked, fingers fluttering, full and probing, deeper inside until Sala couldn't feel anything else. Wasn't sure there was anything else. "You'll know," Karl chuckled. He'll know? "What the bloody hell kind of teacher are you, he'll -- ohmyFUCK!" "That's it." "Wow," Orlando whispered, breath hot on Sala's neck. He pushed his fingers in deeper, and Sala fisted the cushions, held onto sanity by the thinnest of threads. Holy fucking fingers, Batman, that felt incredible. Why the hell didn't more guys take it up the ass if just fingers felt this good? Why the hell hadn't he done this before himself? Masculinity and all be damned, 'cause Jesusfuckme... "Ready for more?" Karl asked, brushing a matted curl from Sala's forehead. Sala could only nod. Was certain he tried to say something, but Orlando's fingers moved again, making any kind of coherent thought, let alone words, impossible. Sala heard Orlando's deep intake of breath and had a moment of panic when those lovely, cleverclever fingers left him. No, wait, come back and, oh. Ohmy. Sala glanced back, swallowing convulsively. Alright, there was a reason more guys didn't take it up the ass. Was it even going to fit? "Very slowly," Karl instructed, smoothing a hand along Sala's shoulder in a comforting gesture. Orlando nodded and took a tight hold of his Kong-sized (or so it seemed to Sala) cock. Slid forward. Sala braced himself for impact. "Y'know, if you'd relax, this would go a lot better," Karl murmured, voice laced with amusement. "You try relaxing," Sala gritted, then yelped into Karl's mouth when Karl jerked his head up and nibbled his lower lip. Damn, Karl had nice lips and whoawhoa, what the hell was... Jesus, Orlando was thick. Sala felt a bit like the tubing over a sausage roll. "Fuck," he breathed into Karl's mouth. Karl's kiss was fleeting. "That's the idea," he smiled. "This..." Orlando shifted and Sala made some sort of whimper in the back of his throat. No, don't go anywhere. Not just yet. "You're so fucking tight," Orlando murmured, tasting Sala's shoulder. "Slowly, now," Karl said. He pushed on the small of Sala's back, and the rush of pleasure was too intense to be anything real. "Tilt your hips up, Orlando. Now move." Karl really needed to be teaching a class in this, Sala thought, then Orlando shifted forward and thinking about anything was sort of the very last thing on Sala's mind. This was...ohyeah...was...ohfuckyeahfuckmelikethat...incredible. Burned like a son of a bitch, but the, um, fullness? thickness? Orlandoness? was hot and strange and fucking incredible. Sala experimentally pushed back, was rewarded when he met Orlando's forward momentum. God, this felt good. Sala moaned his appreciation, let his head fall forward on the cushions. And took. Bucked and writhed and allowed Orlando to direct him with assured touches on his hips, with gentle kisses on his shoulders and neck. His entire lower body felt like it was in a flash fire, only, instead of dousing the flames, he welcomed the heat. Orlando curved over him, sweat-damp skin plastered over his. Breathed nonsensical words in his ear with each push. Or maybe they did make sense. Hard to make out with the blood roaring in Sala's ears. Those same clever fingers wrapped tight around Sala's cock, and he twisted, begging for more. The motion had Orlando slipping forward, pressing and. Fuck. Fuck. Sala's keening moan welled in the back of his throat. He gripped tight on the cushions, held on. Rode it out, allowed his ass to be filled, be fucked, be ridden like a bronco at a rodeo. Giddythefuckup. Orlando's teeth worried Sala's earlobe. Sala felt the scratch and give of the sofa beneath him, the soft/hard press of Orlando's body over him. The faint taste of metal filled his mouth -- must've bitten his lip on that last thrust. Sala's skin was tight, so tight, stretched like thin paper ready to rip, and when Orlando's fist jerked in time with the next deep thrust, Sala just. One thrust, two, three... Orlando stiffened behind him, body rigid, and Sala tightened, pushed back, tried to hold the moment just a second longer, just a second...Christ. Sticky-slick warmth on his stomach, in him, trailing down his inner thighs. Perfect. Just like Orlando slumped, limpet-like, over him. Wasn't planning on moving anyway. Maybe never. Could take up residence on Karl's sofa and be a parasite feeding off Orlando's cock, still half-hard inside him. "Did I pass?" Orlando asked, voice muffled against Sala's neck. Did he...oh, right. Karl. Sala had completely forgotten about him. Funny that. Maybe taking it up the ass affected your short-term memory. Karl's laughter was warm, floated somewhere above Sala's head. "Yeah, you passed. Flying colours." "Good." Orlando snuggled closer, made some small noise of contentment. "We'll give you two a bit of time to recover for the next test." "Next test?" In a stunning bit of motor coordination, Sala managed to lift his head. "Orlando does need to bottom." "Oh, right." Sala grinned, and wrapped a steady hand over Orlando's. "Up for it?" "Gimme a year," Orlando mumbled. "You've got twenty minutes." Orlando summoned the energy for a glare. "Slavedriver." "This was your idea," Karl said. "I'm going to go check the tape." Check the...? "Karl?" "Hmm?" Hard to think while riding the wave of euphoria and slight stretchy-soreness in his ass. But Sala was willing to try. "No one sees this." "I'm offended you would think that." Sala snorted, twisted so he and Orlando were more comfortable. "I know better." Sala could just feel Karl's wide, wicked grin. "Does that mean I need to shut down the webcam?" Onto Pandora's Seduction
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