Title: "Shotgun" Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Sean Bean Rating: PG Disclaimer: Don't know 'em, don't claim to. Summary: Two guys. One cigarette. Notes: Because I told Jenwyn I'd give her a shotgun fic, and I keep my promises. "We can't breathe when we come around Nothing hurts like your mouth" --Bush Sean sighed, took another drag off of his cigarette. Really, it was too bleedin' cold to be smoking, but cravings must be satisfied. He drew his coat closer around him, looked up at the stars, tried to count the constellations. Such a different sky, a different world really. The last six months had been on a totally different level from anything he'd ever done. In more ways than one. "Hey, you." Orlando stepped out of the sliding glass door, nudged Sean with a shoulder, thin t-shirt molded to his frame by the relentless wind. "No fair sneaking out for a smoke while I'm inside entertaining the troops." Sean smiled, wrapped an arm around Orlando's back, pulling his shivering body close, sharing the coat. "Sorry, mate. Got twitchy." "You got another one on you?" Sean patted his pockets, brought out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. "Empty." He shrugged, offered his lit one to Orlando's lips. "I'll share." Orlando's smile was infectious, wide. "Thanks." He leaned in, took a drag, inhaled slowly. Sean watched in aroused fascination as Orlando closed his eyes and slowly exhaled, full lips slightly parted, the smoke curling around them. "You should really try bottling that sometime." Orlando lifted long lashes, snuggled closer to Sean's warmth. "Bottle what?" "The sex appeal. You'd make a straight monk beg with that mouth of yours." Orlando laughed. "I hope like hell that was a compliment." "It was." They passed the cigarette back and forth for a couple of minutes in companionable silence, enjoying the clear night sky and each other. Ditching the rest of the dinner and staying out here with Orlando sounded like a grand idea, but Sean knew one of the kids would just come bounding out and hound them into coming back inside. Sean loved his friends, but sometimes they were hell on his private life. "Last drag's for you." Orlando handed Sean the cigarette, wormed a hand around Sean's back to stroke his hip. "We'll share," Sean said. "Open your mouth." Orlando obeyed, lips forming a perfect 'o', waited patiently as Sean put the cigarette to his lips, inhaled deeply, closing his mouth to keep the smoke in. He leaned forward, crushing the butt under his boot, lips barely touching Orlando's as he opened his mouth, shared the smoke with him, exhaling in slow degrees, tasting faint traces of Orlando mixed up with nicotine on Orlando's lips. Orlando shifted slightly, brought their chests in slight contact with each other, licked at the smoke with the curve of his tongue, the edge of it grazing the tops of Sean's teeth. They stayed in place long after the smoke dissipated, not moving, not pressing, just touching -- staring deep into each other's eyes, lips ghosting on lips, chests and thighs whispering together. A promise given and received in the sharing of nicotine and smoke. Finally Sean drew back, and smiled. "Ready to go in, then?" Orlando leaned into Sean's arm for another minute, smiled back. "Yeah." They slid open the door, walked into the sounds and clatter of friends and companionship. But the promise of the smoke lingered in every shared look or casual touch. A promise they meant to fulfill as soon as possible. If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks!