"Beg pardon?" Orlando sighed. "Board. House. Boards are made of wood, which makes houses. Get it?" Dom threw a piece of popcorn at Orlando's chest. "Next time, could you be a little less vague and obvious?" "And you call my brain a pretzel." Orlando scooped up a handful of popcorn from the bowl on Dom's lap and started popping pieces in his mouth with a satisfying crunch. "What're you talking about? That made perfect sense." "Only to you, Dom, only to you." "Look, I'm trying to watch the game, so shh." Dom pointed at the television, which was on mute. "It's on a commercial break." "Yes, but the game's coming back on, innit? If you're so bored, go bother Lij or Billy." "Too lazy to get up and go out," Orlando grinned, flopping his head on Dom's shoulder. "Don't you want to entertain me?" "Not particularly, no." "Since when did you get all boring on me?" "Since there were three minutes left in 2nd period and Beckham has the ball," Dom replied, not taking his eyes from the screen. "So, you're not going to entertain me?" "Just said that, didn't I?" "Fine." Orlando sighed dramatically. "Guess I'll have to entertain myself." "Fine, you do -- Christ! Orlando!! -- the fuck are you doing?" Orlando's hand continued its steady movements under the waistband of his shorts. "What's it look like?" he asked, somewhat breathlessly. "I don't believe you're, um...uh...Christ." Dom licked his lips, gaze flickering helplessly between the game and Orlando's hand. "This is so not playing fair," he moaned. "Never claimed to play fair." Orlando lifted his sticky-slick hand to his lips, started sucking on his index finger. Dom moaned again. "Wanna help?" Orlando asked, pulling his finger out of his mouth. "Orlando -- I --" Dom gazed longingly at the tv, then sighed. "So not fair," he lamented, setting the popcorn bowl aside and climbing on Orlando's lap. Orlando gripped Dom's hips, settled Dom's legs firmly on either side of his thighs, and brought Dom's hand to his shorts, which were now tenting in a rather impressive display. "Two minutes, forty-seven seconds," Orlando breathed, leaning forward. Dom shivered when Orlando's lips touched the side of his neck. "Told you I could --" low moan as his hand closed over Orlando and started moving "--resist you." "Yeah, you've completely proven your point." Orlando fisted his hands in Dom's hair and yanked. "Now, shut up and kiss me." "If they score, you owe me," Dom gasped, tongue tracing Orlando's lips. "Who cares about Beckham when you can score with me?" "Good point." 2nd period ended -- Beckham scoring off a foul shot -- but, by then, neither Orlando nor Dom noticed, nor cared. There were, after all, far more important things than football. By tacit agreement, however, neither one mentioned that to Bean.
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