"Dear boy, it's your house, too," Ian replied, holding open the door. "You should always feel comfortable staying here." "After what happened last time, I had nightmares for weeks." "Funny…I had very pleasant dreams." "Figures." "Well, you should rest easy this time. Harry and Karl are a couple, Sean and Viggo have been pretty exclusive and the rest of your young Hobbits seem none the worse for wear on their adventures. And we all know that nothing fazes Orlando. This long weekend should be quite relaxing." "I'll believe it when I see it." ***
Sean studied his plate of waffles covered in marmalade and honey -- took a bite, and savored the taste on his tongue. Sweet, tangy, filling. Just what he was in the mood for. He felt guilty about leaving Viggo to go off pottering about, making waffles and such. But cravings needed to be satisfied, and Viggo wasn't too good in the kitchen. Paints were more his thing...Paints. Sean smiled at the memory of the last time he and Viggo had been at the beach house -- wondered if Elijah had any more body paints lying about. He could do with another round of sticky, sweet sex. "Oh, hullo, didn't know anyone was in here." Sean glanced up, saw Karl standing in the doorway, looking all scholarly, yet rumpled, in dark boxers, light white t-shirt and reading glasses that made him looking like a very sexy Clark Kent. His long dark hair was in a disarrayed ponytail that barely brushed his neck, which gave him a slightly piratical air. Seemed to suit him. "It's alright, just having a late night snack," Sean said, smiling. He liked Karl a lot. Great guy. It was too bad they had no scenes together. And, truth be told, Sean was in of a mood for company. Viggo was pulling one of those brooding, intense-y, artist type moods, which was fine and good and all, but not what Sean wanted tonight. Tonight he wanted uncomplicated, cool, fun. Karl was cool. And fun. Karl walked the rest of the way in the door, sat down at the table, eyed the plate of food. "What is that?" he asked. "Honey and marmalade waffles," Sean replied. He held out his fork. "Fancy a taste? I made a ton." "Sure." Karl took a bite, chewing slowly, letting the taste linger on his tongue. Sean just watched in somewhat fascinated silence. Amazing how sexy it was to watch someone who truly enjoyed food. "Very nice," Karl said, licking his lips to get all the sticky honey off his mouth. "You missed a spot." Sean's voice had gone all husky. "Did I?" Karl snaked out the tip of his tongue to find the elusive drop of honey. "Here, let me." Sean reached out a finger, hardly aware that his pupils had dilated, that his breathing had grown shallow, that he was getting the mother of all hard-ons. He was only aware of that tiny spot of honey so enticingly placed on the corner of Karl's mouth. That cupid's bow, full, pouty, begging to be kissed mouth. Fuck, it was hot in here. Sean brushed the honey off Karl's lips, lingering on soft flesh, and slowly drew his hand to suck the sweet substance off his fingers. Karl watched in almost paralyzed fascination as Sean's finger disappeared into his mouth, as Sean licked his finger clean with one bold swipe of his tongue. Why had he never noticed how sexy Sean's hands were...lovely, long, tapered, capable? Hands that were made to cradle, to seduce, to bring pleasure. And that voice...Karl was having visions of slow sex on satin sheets. He cleared his throat, tried to shake the image out of his head. Must be the air in here. Something. "Thanks," Karl said, gaze still fixed on Sean, on those pale green eyes that had darkened with...he didn't know what. He just knew he wanted to drown in that look. "Anytime." Sean needed to look away from Karl's mouth. Away from the seductive curve of it…in a minute...just a minute... Neither one was aware of who exactly made the first move. Their mouths were just on each other's, lips finally pressed against each other, tongues finally touching, tasting, dueling. Fiery, intense, insane, unending...the kiss burned, branded, scorched skin, seared flesh and obliterated the brain. Karl yanked none too gently on Sean's hair, swooped in with his tongue, wanted to dive into that mouth with his whole body and get lost for days, for years, a few millennia might be just long enough. Sean pulled Karl to him, on his lap, his hold cutting off air-flow, his touch hungry, voracious. Yes, yes, more of that mouth. His teeth worried Karl's full lower lip, his tongue traced that delectable upper lip. He feasted, he pillaged, he conquered. Hands fisted in Karl's hair, ripped out the string holding the hair back, needed to feel the silk of it on his fingers, wanted to feel it on his thighs, his cock, brushing over all points of his body in a slow torture. They parted, panting, dazed and stared at each other as Karl leaned back, still on Sean's lap, hands still tangled in blond hair. His glasses had flown off God alone knew where. Not that he really cared at the moment where the fuck they were. Sean still had his grip firmly on Karl's head. Hazel eyes and green eyes stared at each other as they tried to make some sense of what the hell had just happened. And how soon they could do it again. "I thought you were with Viggo," Karl gasped, desperately trying to suck air into empty lungs. Sean blinked, tried to get rid of the black spots behind his eyes. God, that had been… "I am with Viggo. Thought you were with Harry." "I am with Harry." "Okay." "Okay." And then they were on each other again, attacking, grappling with clothing, tearing it off, trying to crawl into each other's skin. Mouths were still fused together, tongues sliding, teeth scraping, when Sean tumbled Karl onto the dining room table, knocking the plate of waffles to the floor in his haste to get Karl horizontal. He just wanted to be all over every fucking inch of that bared flesh, that toned, bronzed body. He moved his mouth to Karl's neck, plundered the sweet spot on his collarbone. More skin, more taste, had to have more, had to have it all right now. Hands roved over Karl's muscular chest, eliciting groans of encouragement. Sean's mouth followed closely behind his hands, eager to taste and sample all that he could. This was better than waffles, better than honey and marmalade combined... Oh hello, wait a minute. Sean jerked his head up, focused on the panting, hot, sexy as hell man under him. "How do you feel about honey?" he asked. "What?" "Never mind, just lay back and enjoy." Sean grabbed the bottle of honey, upended it on Karl's right nipple. Karl jumped as cool liquid hit his sensitized flesh, but any thought of the slight discomfort quickly turned to cinders as Sean's mouth closed over the puckered flesh. Hot, sticky...fucking bloody hell, Sean had the most talented tongue in all of the Southern Hemisphere. Sean lifted sticky lips, licked them with a lascivious grin. "This was more like what I had in mind," he said and poured more of the honey on Karl's chest, let it dribble on his neck. He bent back down, tongue swirling on every inch of flesh, licking and nibbling, taking great delight in his new and improved late-night snack. Karl continued to hold on, groaning his enthusiasm. Fuck, Sean had a mouth that made him want to beg, to weep in fucking sublime joy. Sean finally moved his mouth back to Karl's, and the potent combination of honey and Sean inflamed Karl to almost dizzying heights. He simply could not get enough. He plundered again and again, kissed Sean with what seemed like eons of pent-up lust and need. Karl reached between them, started stroking Sean's straining cock, determined to bring Sean to total incoherence. Sean arched into his hand, pumped those lean hips, continued to kiss Karl like his lips were fashioned for that purpose alone. Sean's hands roamed all over every inch of Karl's skin he could touch -- could not get enough of this body, this pliant, hot flesh trembling under his fingers. "Karl, if I don't get inside you this instant, I'm going to explode." "Okay." And Sean found himself flipped over, back flat on the table as Karl loomed over him, straddling his hips. Hazel eyes burned a path of need from Sean's brain to his groin. Karl's chest still had tracks of sweet honey trailing across it and Sean's mouth watered at the sight. He wanted, he hungered. Karl noticed Sean's gaze, looked down at his chest and shook his head. "No, it's my turn to eat now," he said and grabbed the somewhat empty jar of honey, pouring a judicious amount on Sean's hard, hurting cock. Sean shivered when the gooey liquid hit his sensitive skin. "I could just gobble you up with a spoon," Karl said, sitting back on his haunches, observed the panting, lithe man under him. All that toned grace, that charismatic pull...Jesus, it made Karl ache just to look at him. "I'd prefer if you did it with your mouth," Sean moaned, beyond all rational thought except for more and now and Karl. "As you wish." Karl bent down and closed those sweet, tempting lips over Sean's cock, and goddamn, it was the best fucking thing...it was just so goddamn good. Ah yes...warm, sticky, honey-coated Sean cock -- this was the perfect meal. Karl moved his mouth over, on, down the tasty flesh in swift movements, with solid swipes of his tongue. Karl absolutely loved sucking cock -- could not get enough. It was one of his favorite pastimes and one thing he knew he could do better than just about anyone else in his acquaintance. He set about applying all that knowledge and passion on Sean. Karl used his tongue to swirl over the blond thatch of hair that nestled Sean's cock, teased his lips on aching balls, licked his way up Sean's still honey-sweet shaft. Over and over, he consumed, devoured, took Sean deep in his mouth with bold thrusts, teased the head with gentle nips. And got high on the taste, on Sean's utter responsiveness and the feel of hard cock at his utter and complete mercy. Sean had died and gone to oral heaven. Or something very close. Sweet Jesus, Karl was amazing -- Christ. He hadn't been sucked off like this in...hell, maybe he'd never been sucked off like this. Karl devoured Sean's soul as well as his dick -- sucked him off with such skill and dedication that all Sean could do was tangle fingers in dark hair and ride the waves of pleasure that washed over and through him. Yes, yes, more, had to have...more...God...Karl...more. Sean wasn't aware he was chanting aloud, wasn't aware his hand had tightened on the back of Karl's neck, that Karl had outright abandoned skill and teasing in favor of just earnestly devouring Sean's cock with his mouth. Just a min...hold on...Oh God...just like that...Karl...Sean came in a sputtering, thick spasm, twisting on the table, beyond sound or thought. Karl moved his lips up Sean's pliant, blissed-out body, once again claiming sweet lips. His kiss this time was quiet, gentle, soothing, yet no less thorough. Sean drifted into it, floated along, sighing into Karl's steady lips, soothing hands. And gradually came back down to Earth, became aware of his surroundings once again. Karl was still above him, still kissing his cheeks, shoulders in gentle, unhurried movements...and he was still rock hard against Sean's stomach "You didn't come." Brilliant observation, Sean. Obviously Karl has sucked out more than just bodily fluids. Karl smiled against Sean's neck, moved up to place another soft kiss on yielding lips. "It's okay. I'll wait til you're recovered." In answer, Sean simply reached out a hand and grabbed the opened jar of marmalade that, by some miracle, was still on the table. He coated his hand in the jam and closed nimble fingers around Karl, smoothed a hand over needy skin. Karl gasped into Sean's mouth, lurched into the heated contact. "Don't worry about my recovery time. Just come for me." Sean swallowed ragged, choked moans as he stroked Karl into a jagged, intense, almost violent climax. Karl's world splintered, fractured into a thousand pieces. He felt like he was imploding from his blood vessels to his atoms. Fuck me...yes. This time, Sean's kiss soothed and calmed as Karl shook, gasping and boneless in the aftershocks. "Feel better?" he asked, reaching out with his other hand to twirl of that silky dark hair around his index finger. "Fuck yeah," Karl yawned, snuggling into Sean's embrace. "Now I wonder what Harry and Viggo are up to," Sean mused. "If we're lucky, they'll tell us all about it in the morning," Karl said, lifting his head. "In the meantime, we've still got honey and marmalade left on this table. And I didn't get nearly enough of you to satisfy my craving." "Funny," Sean said, as he sighed back into Karl's kiss, "I was just getting ready to say the same thing." *** Thank God Astin wasn't standing next to him, was Ian's first thought, as he observed the two sated, sticky and sleeping men still sprawled all over each other and the dining room table. He bent down, picked up Karl's glasses and stuck them in his pocket, knowing that the younger man would most assuredly want them back. Sean and Karl. Well, certainly stranger things had happened...and proved Ian's theory that the beach house was certainly good for the creative impulses. He strolled back to the library, went straight over to the bar and poured a very large tumbler of vodka -- no cranberry -- and handed it to Sean. "What's this for?" he asked, tone fearful. "Never mind, dear boy. Just drink it." "Who is it this time?" John wanted to know. "Sean and Karl with honey...and marmalade, bless their hearts...in the dining room," Ian answered, a small smile curving his lips. "Oh bloody hell." Sean downed the glass and held out a hand. "Just keep filling me up. And I am not leaving this room. Ever." ***
"Hey, Vig..." A vague sort of grunt emerged from Viggo, who didn't even bother to look up. So much for company. Oh well, he could just read or something. A magazine lying on the coffee table looked mindlessly entertaining enough. Hmm, drink? Yeah, sure, why not. He walked over to the bar. "Viggo, you want a drink?" Another grunt. Dom took that as a yes and poured Viggo a scotch. He walked over, set it down on the end table nearest to Viggo and turned to walk away. Viggo looked up, surprise on his face as he finally realized that there was another person in the room with him. "Hey, Dom." Viggo looked at the glass. "Thanks." And he returned to his writing. "Sure." Dom walked back to the bar poured his own healthy tumbler full of whiskey and settled in on the couch. Picking up the magazine, he threw it back down after a few seconds. Bored, bored, fucking bored. He got up and wandered around the room more. Hmm, snacks sounded good. He could do with a snack. Yeah, a snack to go with the drink. The kitchen seemed much too far away, so he settled for rummaging around behind the bar. There should at least be some crisps or peanuts back there, he thought. His search proved fruitless, however, and the only thing he turned up was, well, some fruit. One jar of maraschino cherries to be precise. Fuck. Oh well, cherries, whisky and 'People' it was then. At least for the next fifteen minutes. Lovely movie-star lifestyle he had going. He settled in on the couch, taking a large swig of whisky to prepare for the scintillating reading ahead. Twisting open the jar of cherries, he propped it against his leg and opened the magazine. Silently he sat, reading and munching, munching and reading. Meanwhile, in his little corner of the room, Viggo was watching. After he realized that Dom was indeed in the room with him, he had noticed Dom's pacing and food hunting. Thanking his lucky stars that he had a bored, slightly-pouty Dom rather than a bored, twitchy Orlando in the room with him, he had turned back to his writing. When complete silence descended over the room again, he looked up. Dom was engrossed in his magazine, absentmindedly sucking on a cherry before popping it into his mouth. Chewing, swallowing, repeating, this time licking the remains of the juice from the tiny red globe before biting it from the stem. Viggo was entranced, not even realizing that he was staring. A dark, slick tongue darted out to lick juice, full lips pursed to suck before engulfing the entire cherry. Then a drink, lips parted for the whisky, adam's apple moving as the liquid was swallowed. It was Viggo's turn to swallow, his throat suddenly dry. Dom kept reading, oblivious at first. Then, slowly, he began to shift in his seat, feeling strange. He had a weird feeling that someone was looking at him. Ridiculous really, as the only person in the room was Viggo, and he would have hardly noticed the beach house collapsing around their ears. Dom's eyes darted up from the magazine to see...Viggo staring at him like he was a gallon of Evian and Viggo'd been wandering the Sahara for two weeks. What the...? Viggo's eyes widened before flying back to his pen and paper. Dom sat and pondered. He'd just imagined it right? Viggo hadn't really been staring at him with lust in his eyes, had he? No, of course not. Viggo had just looked up at the same time that Dom had, and Dom had misinterpreted things. Or Viggo had been writing about something particularly sexy or sensual and looked up, thinking about his next word. Yes, that was it. Besides, there was absolutely no reason for Viggo to be thinking any sort of those thoughts about him. Was there? He picked up 'People' again and reached back into the cherry jar. He'd eaten quite a lot so far and had to dig around in the juice for a while, chasing after one of the slippery little buggers. Damn, now his fingers were completely covered in juice. One by one, he began to lick them off, his head turning as he did to notice....fucking hell. Viggo was watching him. Startled once again, the older man returned to his notebook, but Dom could tell that he was sneaking surreptitious glances every now and again. What was going on? Dom sat and read quietly, noticing that Viggo's attention returned fully to his writing once more. Hmm. Dom looked down at the mostly empty jar of cherries beside him and smiled. Aha. He fished around again, making more of a production out of it and taking care to get lots of juice on his fingers. Pulling out another cherry, he tilted his head back, letting the cherry drip into his open mouth before dropping it in and chewing it slowly. Returning his head forward, his eyes locked onto Viggo's. This time neither of them looked away. Dom smiled but Viggo simply stared, eyes burning into Dom's. Nonplussed, Dom's smile only grew as he dangled the cherry stem in front of his mouth, licking it once or twice before sucking it ever so slowly into his mouth. Viggo couldn't have looked away if he wanted to. He knew he was being teased but had no desire to stop the show. Not particularly feeling talkative, and especially not wanting to spoil the mood, he sat in silence and simply watched, wondering why the hell he had never noticed Dom in this way before. Dom was still grinning as he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Resting atop it, lay the cherry stem, now tied in a perfect knot. Viggo raised an eyebrow, considering his options. Did he just let it pass and continue writing, or did he go and find out what that tongue could do to things other than cherry stems? He stood up, walking over to Dom. Dom had taken the cherry stem from his mouth, fished out another cherry and was repeating his performance, still smirking at Viggo. The second knotted stem popped out and Viggo reached for it, letting his hand linger on Dom's tongue just long enough to be licked ever so lightly. He drew in a sharp breath before reaching down to take the opened bottle of cherries (now mostly juice sloshing around) and putting it out of Dom's reach. Meeting Dom's puzzled gaze, he pulled him to his feet. "Viggo?" Dom started to talk but was silenced when Viggo shook his head, placing a finger over Dom's lips. Their eyes locked for a long moment before Viggo broke the gaze, his eyes sweeping over Dom from head to toe. He smiled, a long, lazy, wickedly promising smile that made Dom shiver. Dom leaned forward but found himself held back by a light hand on his chest. Viggo shook his head slowly, that sex-on-a-plate smile still plastered on his face. Again, he swept his eyes over Dom, staring pointedly at Dom. There was a message here, but Dom's brain, currently stuck in a traffic jam with a large number of hormones also involved in migrating to his groin, just wasn't getting it. His eyes reflected his confusion. He wanted to ask Viggo what the point was and why they weren't getting naked already, but he had a feeling that verbal answers would no longer be given by Viggo. He cocked his head to one side and shrugged his shoulders, hoping that would convey "I don't get it," well enough. It did. Viggo changed his stare. Now he was staring at the top of Dom's trousers. All well and good, but why was he just staring and not taking them off...oh...wait just a minute. Dom reached his hands to the top button of his trousers, looking hopefully at Viggo, who nodded and then settled himself into the sofa to watch. Oh, so he wanted a show, did he? Dom was more than happy to oblige him, although he wasn't about to put on a full musical production. The point was to get naked relatively quickly and then move on to the real activity portion of the evening. Oh yes. He unbuttoned the trousers slowly, kicking off his shoes before sliding them off along with his boxers to save time. Viggo watched, eyes locked on Dom's, enjoying the show as well as the slight blush on Dom's face as he stripped. Socks were next, hurriedly tossed aside and soon followed by his shirt. His blush deepened as he stood before Viggo, completely naked and utterly aroused. Again, he was rewarded with the slow, burning, "you have no idea what I want to do to you" smile. Viggo stood, walking a complete circle around Dom to fully appreciate all angles of the marvelous view. He paused in front of Dom, running one finger all the way down Dom's chest before pulling it away right before reaching his navel. Then he simply stood in front of Dom, his eyes now looking down at himself and then back to Dom. This time, Dom understood right away. He reached forward, grinning madly as he undid the buttons on Viggo's shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. He let his hands roam about Viggo's chest before drifting down to undo his trousers and push them off, following them down with his body, until he was kneeling on the floor in front of Viggo. Smiling up at Viggo, he reached tentatively for the hard cock staring him in the face. Licking it gently and slowly, he still stared up through his lashes at Viggo, whose eyes were fixed on Dom. Opening his mouth wider, he took almost the entire length in, moving in and out, letting his tongue swirl around, feather light licks mimicking his earlier actions with the cherries. Viggo's eyes were closed, an expression of extreme pleasure on his face. Oh yes, that tongue was so amazingly talented. Fucking incredible. Dom continued, bringing Viggo to the brink several times, but always pulling back. He slid Viggo out of his mouth almost completely, letting his tongue graze over the underside of Viggo's cock as he did. Taking just the tip in his mouth, he sucked gently, letting his tongue do most of the work. Viggo's breathing was hard and heavy, chest heaving, hands digging into Dom's shoulders for support. Dom pulled the tip in and out of his mouth a few times, still keeping his touch and his tongue light, letting himself take more of Viggo in, but always pulling back. Finally, he smiled, and without warning, flicked his tongue once over the head of Viggo's cock before taking it all the way in his mouth in one quick movement. Viggo wanted to scream. Sweet god, this was a blowjob to end all blow jobs. Deep and hard and fast, Dom knew exactly what to do. He kept up the pace, tongue still moving wildly about and around Viggo's cock. Still not wanting to break the silence, Viggo bit down on his own tongue and came, gasping for air, body bucking wildly, hands tangled in Dom's hair. Dom sat back, watching Viggo float back to earth. Very nice cure for boredom. He shifted, moving to sit on the couch, gently taking Viggo's hands to lead him. They sat in silence, Dom trying to ignore his still rock-hard dick. But when Viggo still sat, eyes closed, he could take it no longer and wrapped his hand around it and started to take care of business. A hand clamped down on his, stilling it. He looked over and found Viggo's eyes still closed. Slowly, they drifted open to focus on Dom and Viggo shook his head 'no'. He pushed Dom onto his back, and shifted them around on the couch so that Dom was stretched out fully and Viggo was sitting by his side. Viggo cocked his head and simply looked, enjoying the sight of the delectable, naked man laid out before him. Where to begin? Top or bottom? Hmm, such a decision. Those calves looked tempting, toned and flexing as Dom shifted his feet back and forth in anticipation. But then again, the neck and shoulders had always been a favorite of Viggo's, and Dom's were looking particularly irresistible. Viggo leaned forward. He trailed a path of kisses down Dom's neck, biting and sucking as he went, suckling on Dom's ear for a while before moving down to his shoulders. Taking his time, he feasted on Dom, who simply squirmed and writhed and wanted more. That was it. Dom could take no more of this fucking teasing. It felt fucking great, and yes, long and slow was all well and good, but Dom wanted to come, and he wanted to come soon. Fuck foreplay, he wanted hard cock in him, right the hell now. He pushed Viggo off him, taking him by surprise. Viggo fell backward, and Dom pushed him further so that Viggo was now lying on the couch and Dom was straddling his hips. "Fucking hell, Vig. Are you going to fuck me or what?" Viggo blinked, Dom's voice sounding quite loud as it broke the silence. He could only stare at Dom, who continued. "Time to ditch the strong, silent routine. It's already worked its magic." He stroked his cock, looking down at it to make his point. "I don't think I'm going to get much harder than this. Fuck me now, dammit. And fucking say something while you're doing it." Viggo's eyes narrowed. Dom never saw it coming and was completely bewildered to find himself breathless, lying on his back on the carpet, Viggo looming over him, looking dangerous and feral. "So you want me to talk, do you?" A sprinkling of kisses, some light, yet fierce bites to Dom's neck followed. "You want me to tell you what I'm going to do to you?" He moved down to Dom's cock, eyes dark and shining as they stared up at Dom. He reached for the jar of cherries on the table, dipping two fingers in and pulling them out, juice pouring off them. He practically growled, still staring at Dom. "You want me to tell you that I'm going to spread this all over your cock and then, before you know what's happening, lick it off all at once, with your cock buried so deep in my throat you won't be able to see straight?" Dom only had time for a brief whimper before Viggo did exactly as he had promised, slick fingers dripping juice onto his cock and then that mouth on him, quick and fast and deep and sweet mother... There was no slowness, no pause or respite, only total possession and blinding speed. Viggo sucked and licked, tongue lapping up every bit of juice, every bit of Dominic as he came within seconds, his senses overloaded from all the kissing and teasing and talking, oh my god, the talking and then the mouth, hot and willing and all over the place. His body shook as he moaned incomprehensible fragments and came for what seemed like hours. Viggo held on, mouth still wrapped around Dom, gentled as he licked every bit of cherry sweet saltiness from him. Dom slumped back, eyes closed as he reached for Viggo. When his hands found empty air, he was forced to open his eyes and see a still smirking Viggo staring at him. "That's not it, Dominic. That's just to shut you up for a while. It was rather selfish of me to not take care of you right away, though I know my skills in that area cannot hold a candle to that tongue of yours." He leaned over Dom, waggling his own tongue in invitation. Dom, still languid and sated, grinned before sticking out his own tongue to slide around with Viggo's. They laughed together before Viggo pulled away again. "Where was I? Oh, yes, talking to you. I believe you wanted to be fucked, wasn't that right?" Viggo paused, looking off as if remembering something, absentmindedly stroking his own returned erection. "Yes, I think that was it. And with running commentary no less. Okay, so where to begin?" He ran his hands over Dom's body. "I know you think we've focused too much on foreplay, but I do think that I need just another taste of your lips." He leaned over, finding Dom's lips already parted in invitation. They kissed long and slow, Viggo's hands roaming all over Dom, soothing him, exciting him, claiming him. Bodies pressed together combined with hands and lips and tongues soon had Dom hard as hell all over again. He ground his hips into Viggo, all eagerness and want. "Mmm, looks like you're back on your feet, so to speak," Viggo growled into Dom's mouth. "Now I can get to work." Still kissing Dom, he reached for the cherry juice. "No lube, so this will have to do. Think you'll mind being all sweet and sticky inside while my cock slides in and out of you?" He dipped a finger in the juice, running it over Dom's lips. Dom opened his mouth, sucking on Viggo's finger, licking it clean. "You didn't answer me. Dom?" Viggo moved his mouth to Dom's right nipple, swirling his tongue over it, nipping and licking it into full arousal. Dom, struggling at that point to remember his own name, managed to shake his head in a negative manner and gasp out a few words. "No....fine...don't mind...good." "And every time you smell cherries, you'll think of me, and think of me inside you, cherry juice slick on my cock, maybe even all over us both." He smeared Dom's left nipple with more cherry juice, sucking it off slowly in between words as his other hand, also coated with juice, began to explore inside Dom, one gentle finger at a time. Dom's gasp was swallowed by Viggo's mouth on his. Viggo kept Dom distracted with touches, kisses and soothing, whispered words as he slowly prepared him, opening him, making him so full of need that Dom thought he would just explode into a million pieces from it. Searching, he finally found that one spot inside Dom, letting his fingers brush over it, making Dom rise up from the floor and cry out. "Tell me, Dom, tell me again what you want..." "You. Inside me now. Fuck me, Viggo. Now. I want your cherry cock deep inside me now." "Mmm, anything for you, Dom." One last fierce and deep kiss, and Viggo was inside with one swift thrust, Dom's legs wrapped around his waist as they began to move together. Viggo thought he would try to go slow, wanting to prolong the moment. That was quickly abandoned as the hot, eager body beneath his moved frantically, hands grabbing onto him, legs squeezing to bring his cock even further in with each movement. Fuck it, they could do slow later. He wanted this...this bat-out-of-hell tornado sweeping them along full speed ahead, mind and body so overloaded that thought was focused only on want, need, yes, more, more, yes, searing, deep, sliding, moving, yes, more, more, Dom, need.... Yelling and crying out, they held to each other as they crashed over the edge of an incredible orgasm together. Viggo's arms gave way and he slid to the ground, rolling over to pull Dom with him. They lay quietly for a while, sharing a few caresses and soft kisses. Dom looked up at Viggo, smiling. "Mmmm, now that we've got that out of the way, you can do slow next." "Next? Who said there would be a next?" Viggo grinned. "Oh, well, if you don't want to, that's fine. I can just, oh, have another snack or something." Dom's eyes attempted innocence as he lifted a cherry from the jar, dangling it over his mouth while staring at Viggo. He smirked, letting it fall in and pulling the stem out. Viggo snarled, smile still on his face as he leaned over to retrieve his share of the cherry from Dom's mouth. *** John blinked. Quite a few times he blinked, bewildered, yet slightly intrigued by the sight in front of him. He nodded, a puzzled look still on his face before heading back to the library. He was met with raised eyebrows. "Viggo and Dominic. In the living room, maraschino cherries strewn about and what appears to be cherry juice all over them and the carpet. Ian nodded, trying to hide his grin and reaching surreptitiously behind him to the bar to shove the jar of cherries into a corner and out of Sean's view. Sean simply glared darkly into his vodka, as if it held the answers to the universe, or at least to the disturbing happenings at the beach house. He muttered under his breath in between sips and glares. All Ian and John caught were snippets. "crazy... horny bastards...damn house...nothing against...but....too far...too far...normal sex...." followed by a snort. They shot each other a worried glance. Was their dear Samwise cracking under the strain? ***
"Going to bed so soon, old man?" Harry stopped, shook his head. And turned. Young, impossibly pretty Orlando stood in the middle of the hallway, a stoppered bottle of wine hanging loosely in his long fingers. "I beg your pardon?" Harry asked. Orlando sauntered forward, his lean hips swaying gently in baggy jeans. Boy should bottle up the sex appeal in that walk, Harry thought, amused. It was going to be positively lethal in a few years. "I was asking why you were headed off to bed so soon," Orlando said, peering up at Harry through wide, knowing eyes. "Evening's young yet." "But I'm not," Harry smiled. He reached out and ruffled Orlando's spiky Mohawk. "Goodnight, young Elf." He turned to leave, but was stopped by Orlando's soft touch on his arm. "Don't go. Stay. Have a drink with me." Orlando's soft voice seduced, beckoned. His fingers curled around Harry's muscled arm, stroked up his forearm to his elbow. Damn, but the kid was really good. "I'm thinking you've had quite enough tonight," Harry replied, and gently took Orlando's hand off of him. Orlando continued to gaze up at him. That face really could tempt an angel. Which Harry most assuredly wasn't. It was almost too bad Harry was with Karl now...and that cocky, young, irrepressible men didn't really do it for him. Teaching the young Elf a few things could have been a most diverting way to pass the time. "Now, I really am going to bed," he said. And was once again stopped. This time, the hand on his arm was a little more forceful as Orlando turned him around. "If you're going to bed, why don't we go together?" So much for subtlety, Harry thought. "Because I'm not sharing my bed with you. That position's been filled. But I thank you for your interest." "I want you." The words stopped him cold. Orlando didn't even need to touch him this time. Okay, that was a much bolder move. And Harry wasn't sure if he was flattered or pissed. "What is it with you guys?" he sighed, exasperated. "Dunno what you mean." "You know, New Zealand's a decent sized country -- plenty of women and men to choose from. I don't get why you guys are always on each other." The question had puzzled Harry for the last few weeks. Orlando shrugged, bunching lean shoulders. "Dunno. Don't want other men." He leaned in, dark eyes intent, stance predatory. "Want you." Harry raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, you do not want to do this." A hand on his chest stopped him when he would have continued down the hall. "You afraid?" The challenge in Orlando's hot eyes was unmistakable. His young, lean body fairly crackled with energy, with impatience. Harry just looked down at him, mentally sighing. He'd tried. And the kid was practically begging for it. "Okay," he said genially and, the next thing Orlando knew, he was slammed up against the wall, pinned between it and Harry's heavily muscled body...and he was being devoured. Harry's kiss wasn't gentle, sweet or slow -- it was soul-sucking and fierce and bruising and every fucking thing Orlando wanted it to be. More. Now. Everything. All. The bottle of wine slipped from his nerveless fingers as he grabbed onto solid shoulders and sunk into Harry's mouth, into his body. Orlando's more than enthusiastic response pushed every thought of punishment out of Harry's head. With a growl, he pushed Orlando further up against the wall, hooked a slim leg around his waist. Better -- now he could feel Orlando against him, straining, twitching. Goddamn, the boy was sweet. Succulent. Everything that little walk of his had promised. Harry ran one hand down Orlando's chest, felt the racing heart beneath his palm. Yes, he wanted Orlando to sweat, wanted him to burn, wanted him naked and screaming and filled with Harry's cock, his hands, his mouth. He leaned back, pressed his groin against Orlando's and they both groaned as hard flesh rubbed against hard flesh through too-tight jeans. "Be sure you want this, Orlando." Harry's voice was rough, but the hand on Orlando's cheek was gentle. Orlando moved his head, kissed Harry's palm. And looked Harry right in the eyes, those knowing, sybaritic, dark eyes, and smiled. "I want you," he stated, enunciating each word clearly so there would be no mistake. And had the pleasure of seeing those eyes go all hot before he was sucked under again by devouring lips on his and that strong, solid body pressing into him. Shirts were discarded with the bare minimum of fuss. Orlando's jeans were shoved down over his hips, off his legs, in one smooth motion and Harry made short work of his own pants. Christ, yes, naked Harry rubbing on him...hard, muscled thighs pressed into his, toned calves entwined with his, hard, heavy cock rubbing against his. Fuck yeah. "Christ, you're just big all over, aren't you?" Orlando sounded impressed as he reached between their two sweaty bodies to caress Harry's erection. Harry smiled, arched into Orlando's fingers. "You scared?" "I can handle you, Harry Sinclair." Dark eyes turned almost black with sensuous intent. "Watch me." "I intend to." Harry pressed Orlando further into the wall, embedding his skin into Orlando's. Orlando simply could not look away from Harry -- got lost inside dark eyes and a wicked grin. "I intend to watch you as I fuck you so senseless your only thought will be of me. I intend to make you come so hard you'll think the universe is exploding behind your eyes. I intend to fill you so completely that you'll wonder where you end and I begin, but it won't matter as long as I'm still inside you." Orlando almost came at just Harry's softly delivered words. "Promise?" "Oh yeah," Harry replied, and that lush mouth sucked Orlando under again, stole his breath. Carnal, hot need drilled into his senses as he rubbed his body on Harry's, plummeted into the overwhelming appetite Harry had awoken in him. "Fuck." Harry's oath was sharp, annoyed. "I thought that's what we were trying to do here, love." Harry kissed Orlando hard on the lips again. "No lube. Again. Fuck, I should just start carrying some around in my jeans." Again? Orlando didn't want to know. He glanced about, trying to find something they could use...anything really...and his eyes widened as he spotted the forgotten wine bottle resting against the wall beside them. "Wine," he gasped, as Harry wrapped his hand around Orlando's cock, started moving his hand up and down. "Wine?" "Bottle...on...floor," Orlando panted, each word punctuated by a groan as Harry moved over him with lazy strokes. Fuck me Christ...Harry was so fucking magnificent. Harry glanced down, saw the bottle. "Think that'll work?" "Don't care. Need you in me." Orlando jerked Harry's lips back to his, plundered with his tongue. "Now," he said, resting his head back against the wall. "If you insist." Harry tightened his grip a little more firmly on Orlando's hips, bent down and grabbed the bottle with his free hand. Orlando wrapped his legs around Harry's waist, plastered his body closer. If he could have crawled inside all that muscle and bone, he'd have done it in a heartbeat. Harry used his teeth to worry the stopper out of the bottle, spilled some in his haste. Orlando was once again slammed back into the wall, once again covered in Harry's body as lips drank the wine lightly coating his chest. "Mm, merlot goes well with you," Harry said, lifting his head. "Harry..." The word was drawn-out, breathless, reedy. "Impatient child, aren't you?" But Harry obliged, coated his erection with the wine and dropped the empty bottle back on the floor. Wet fingers dove between Orlando's cheeks, teased and probed, getting him ready. Orlando clutched onto Harry's shoulders, quivered...and practically screamed when Harry started to move smoothly into him, wet, hot, heavy and full...moving so slow it seemed an infinity passed with every hard inch sliding into him. Harry kept his word, never looked away from Orlando as he pushed inside, began to move with slow thrusts, baby strokes that caused Orlando to whimper in need. The look in Harry's dark eyes inflamed him, scorched him. And the slow movements were making him crazy. Orlando crossed his legs around Harry's hips a little tighter, pushed Harry deeper inside him. "Fuck me," he commanded, biting on a muscled shoulder, desperate for the mindless release that was so close he could see it, could almost feel it. "Hold on." Harry wrapped Orlando's leg under his arm, shoved him so far into the wall that Orlando wondered how it was still holding him up...and...fuck yes...now Harry slammed into him, now he was fucking him hard and fast, long and deep, so furious, so overwhelming that Orlando was drowning. Over and over, Harry moved in him, pistoning hips, grasped Orlando's neglected cock with his free hand, moved over him with skillful fingers. Yes...yes...cock inside him, hands over him, body pressed into him...more. Now...everything...God. And Harry kept his eyes on Orlando the whole time and it was just so fucking sexy...so fucking hot. Yes...more...yes. They came together with twin hoarse shouts, kissed the groans from each other's mouths, shuddered into each other's bodies. Harry slumped into Orlando, leaned his head into the crook of his shoulder, tasted the sweat on bronzed skin. Nice...tasted like clove. "Is this what you had in mind?" Harry asked, when he felt he could trust his brain to function long enough to form words. Orlando laughed, exposing the long column of his throat and just that sight had Harry ready to go all over again. "Maybe not quite what I had in mind, but yeah, it'll do," Orlando said and winked. "For a start." Cheeky kid. "I'm still not sharing my bed with you." "That's okay, I have a perfectly good one we can use." Harry laughed, the sound rich and deep in his chest. He moved Orlando off the wall, secured him in his strong arms. "Which way?" Orlando just pointed. *** You'd have thought the goddamn hallway would have been safe. It's in public view of everybody. Any innocent person could just walk down and see things. All kinds of things... Sean stood, rooted to the spot, too shocked to move, too stunned to even whimper in terror. Orlando...Harry...naked...hallway...right in front of him...Dear God. Sean closed his eyes, tried to block out the image of sweaty men kissing on each other, tried to think of his wife, her skin, her smell, her curvy, very womanly thank you very much, body. He inched his way back down the hall, eyes still closed, using the wall as his guide until he came to the door of the library and quickly stepped inside and closed the door. Ian and John looked up from their game of chess. "Everything alright?" Ian asked, noticing Sean's clammy skin and shortened breathing. Sean shook his head, opened his mouth to tell them, but all that came out was a squeak. "Sean?" "Harry...Orlando...hallway...wine...Need to call my wife." Sean dove for the phone and was dialing the long-distance number before he could talk himself out of it. Ian and John continued to stare at him, although Ian was smiling again. "Hello?" Yes, Christine, finally. A woman's voice. Thank God. "Hi, honey," Sean said. "Sean? Are you okay? You sound a little shaky." "I miss you," Sean sighed. "You called just to tell me that?" "I miss normal sex." "WHAT?!?! Sean, honey, what's going on over there?" "You don't want to know," Sean said, shuddering. "I don't want to know. And I'm sorry I do." He ignored the sounds of Ian and John chortling behind him. ***
I'm straight again. Those two thoughts played over and over again in Billy's alcohol addled brain. The first was brought on by the sight of Elijah, sprawled out in the hot tub, arms across the back, eyes closed, head back, visible body parts coated with a light sheen of sweat and a few droplets of water. Glistening nakedness looking just absolutely perfect. This in turn brought about the second thought, repeated over and over again. Billy closed his eyes and lay back himself, letting the warm water relax him. Except it wasn't relaxing him at all. His dick couldn't be any harder and it showed no signs of returning to relaxed status any time soon. He was straight, he was straight, he was straight. Just because the steam was making Lij's hair curl up and just frame his face perfectly was no reason to get all horny. Horny! He was not horny, especially not for Lij, lying there looking like an angel. Well, an angel built for sin and all those clichéd phrases that just happened to be true in this case. Damn Orlando. Damn him to hell for even starting the explorations with the bottle of lube that wound up lasting for hours and had them both chipping in to buy Ian a complete set of every flavor lube that WET made out of guilt for using up almost all of his. Straight. S-bloody-t-bloody-raight. That's what Billy was. And his dick would just have to learn to accept this. And of course, Elijah picked just that moment to open his eyes and see why Billy kept shifting and sloshing around. Oh no! Red alert, red alert! Billy tried to close his eyes again before...but he was too late. Blue eyes of a shade he was sure contact makers the world round would've thrown themselves off buildings to duplicate were turned on him, full of concern. "Billy? You okay?" Words. Yes, you take words, put them into proper order and spew them out of your mouth as sentences. That's how it works. "Um, yeah, sure, Lij. Just, you know, trying to get comfortable. Stiff. Shoulders. My shoulders are stiff." Okay, so perhaps not in sentences, but he managed to get out a few words and not sound completely daft. Not completely. 'Stiff' indeed. Yes, he was stiff and not in the shoulder area either. But fuck, he'd said the wrong thing. The damn, damn, beautiful eyes were even more concerned, and now he'd got the lips involved, pouting in worry. "Oh! That sucks. Come on, I'll give you a rub down and you'll feel good as new." What?! No! Rub down?! No! No, no, no, no, no. Billy's eyes went wide with panic. "Oh, no, that's okay, mate. You're just as tense as I am. Let's just rest here. I'm sure I'll be just fine." But Elijah was having none of it and swung himself out of the tub to grab a bottle of body oil from a nearby shelf. Returning to the water, he moved closer to Billy, who instinctively scooted away from him. Elijah smiled an exasperated smile. "Will you relax already? I'm not some big burly Swedish woman named Inga who's going to rip your arms off! I'm just going to rub out some of the knots in your shoulder, that's all. Relax, for fuck's sake!" With that, he forcibly turned Billy around and got himself comfortable behind him. Pouring some oil into his hand, he set the bottle next to the hot tub before working the oil through both hands. Settling his hands on Billy's shoulders, he began to rub, massaging the oil into Billy's skin, and working through the tension he felt under his hands. "Jesus, you are a fucking mess! A bundle of nerves," he commented, his hands still moving. And not likely to change anytime soon as long as you're sitting right the hell behind me, naked as hell, with your slick hands all over me, thought Billy. He tried to relax, tried thinking about his Gran yelling at him, a footie match, Gimli in a dress. That last one made him snort out loud. "What's so funny?" "Gimli in a dress," Billy laughed. "What?!?" "I was thinking about Gimli wearing a dress." Elijah stopped rubbing, peeking his head around Billy's shoulder to stare at him. "You want to tell me why?" Billy blushed, ducking his head. "No reason. Just thinking about stuff, that's all. Random thoughts." Elijah just shook his head and resumed his rubbing. Billy finally decided that his best course of action was just to eschew all thoughts, and simply close his eyes and drift, pretending that the hands roaming all over his upper body were those of...Liv. Yes, Liv. Or Cate. Or Miranda. Shit, that wasn't working. Would his dick ever be soft again? Should he even wish that, or would he jinx himself forever? "Fuck you, Orlando," he muttered under his breath, casting dark thoughts in the general direction of one dark-haired elf-man who had started all this. Elijah stopped again, his hands resting on Billy's shoulders. What was going on with Billy? All fidgety and tense, babbling about Gimli in drag, and now did he just say he wanted to fuck Orlando? Isn't Billy the straight one? And if wasn't, why did he want to fuck Orlando and not Lij? Everybody wanted Orlando, dammit. Damn those cheekbones. Elijah may have youthful looks, but some people, like Dommie for one, seemed to like them pretty damn well. Elijah turned Billy around so that they were facing each other. Billy cringed as the full-on pout combined with the sad damnable eyes hit him right in the gut. "You want Orlando?" Elijah whimpered. Oh fucking hell. Billy couldn't stop the blush that spread out on his face. He stared at the water. Elijah's eyes widened. "Do you?" Billy hurried to stammer out some words. "No, no, no, not at all. I don't want him." "Then why are you blushing and embarrassed and not able look me in the eyes?" Elijah could not believe that Billy, sweet, wonderful Billy, wanted Orlando, of all people. "It was just, um, well, you know, last time we were here, and..." His voice drifted off. Elijah smirked, recalling his own adventures in snacking with Dom on the last visit. Forcing himself back to the present, he was determined to get to the bottom of Billy's Elf-fancying. "And what, Billy? You can tell me." "Well, we were talking, you know, just about stuff, and Ian's bottle of WET was there, and we were talking about it and I wanted to know what it felt like and, um, well, he just, um, ah, well, showedme." He tried to blend the last two words, hurrying them out of his mouth together in hopes that Elijah wouldn't really hear them. But he had. "He showed you? What WET felt like?" Damn him. Damn Orlando and his WETness. Billy bent his head further. He just wanted to dive under the water and hold his breath until Elijah left. "I wanted to know. And so, he, and we, and, um..." "But I thought you were straight?" How had Orlando managed to corrupt Billy? "I was. I mean, I am, I mean..." Billy was frustrated beyond all rational comprehension. Repressing had failed, the dam had broken and the words were just going to pour out. "Oh fuck, I don't know. I was, and I think I still am, except you're over there all curly haired and sweaty and I was doing just fine until you had to come over and give me a damn back rub and now I'm harder than I was before you started and you're all staring at me with those damn eyes that I wish I were floating around in instead of this hot tub and I just don't bloody well know anymore." He slumped back into the tub, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. Fucking hell. There was complete silence in the room. Why was Elijah not saying anything? Billy heard the soft swish of waves and felt the water moving. He opened his eyes just seconds before Elijah pounced, straddling his lap and plastering his lips onto Billy's. Bloody hell on a stick. Elijah wasn't kissing him. No, he had slipped under the water and was drowning. That was why he couldn't breathe, couldn't think and had his mouth full of warmth and wetness. He came up for air for just a second, sucking it down before returning to have Elijah suck on his tongue some more. Granted he'd only kissed one other man, but this was more than kissing. This was hot lava boiling in his veins, one of those giant dragon fireworks exploding all around him, devastation of the best possible kind. "Jesus Christ, Lij," Billy gasped, clinging onto Elijah for dear life. "What?" Elijah was all innocence and light, even as he was sucking on Billy's neck in a way that would make Lestat proud. "You. Kisses. Damn..." Elijahbeamed, smiling against Billy's neck before moving his mouth up to plant yet another toe-curling, ship-launching kiss on Billy. He paused. "Can Orlando do that?" "Who?" You could almost see the small yellow feather drift out of the corner of Elijah's mouth. No cat had ever smiled more over any canary. He kissed Billy a few more times before he just had to have more. Reaching over Billy's shoulder for the bottle of oil, he smiled sweetly at Billy. "Show me what you learned?" The naked fallen angel grinding into him while holding up a bottle of oil was all the temptation that Billy could take. He rose from the tub, grabbing Elijah's ass to hold him tight as he stood. Elijah wrapped his arms around Billy, nearly sending them both to the ground as he decided to use their travel time to suction-kiss the entire left side of Billy's neck. Billy was forced to set Elijah down for a second as he threw towels and robes down to cover up the cold tile. Snatching Elijah back to him, he lowered them both to the makeshift bedding. He grinned down at Elijah, framed by the white towels, hair damp and messy, eyes impossibly wide and overflowing with lust. Pouring a nice amount of oil in his hand, he slid down Elijah's body so that he was straddling his thighs, Elijah's cock straining upwards just in front of his own. He turned his palm so that some oil dripped down onto the tip. Elijah closed his eyes and moaned. "Open," Billy whispered. "Hmm?" "I want to see your eyes..." That accented voice, lowered and hoarse, sent a thrill up Elijah's spine. He opened his eyes, locking them onto Billy's. Billy finally lowered his hand to the base of Elijah's cock, taking it firmly before stroking, coating it liberally with oil from top to bottom. Elijah's eyes stayed open, darkening to almost indigo as Billy moved, slow, gentle strokes, hard, fast strokes, little wrist flicks, fingers playing Elijah's cock as if it were a baby grand and they were writing a concerto. Fuck. Billy had learned a lot. Drawing Billy down to him, Elijah kissed him with all he had, needing to give as well as take. His own hand made its way to Billy's cock, stroking him without pretense. Squirming and kissing and writhing together, they came almost at the same time, moans and yells muffled by lips melted together. Quite a while later, Billy lifted his head to smirk at Elijah. "Wanna see what else I learned?" Elijah's eyes widened and in perfect Pippin-voice, with a huge grin on his face, he asked, "There's more?" Billy picked up the bottle of oil and, grin on his own face, nodded vigorously. *** Ian made his way to the spa. He wanted to find out when Elijah and Billy would be done with their soak so that he could have some much needed alone time in the hot tub. Mmm, he could almost feel the hot water soaking into him, relaxing every one of his muscles. What the...? His feet struggled for purchase on the floor, and he slid into the room. Why the hell was the floor so damned slippery? Looked like someone had spilled oil all over. He opened his mouth to yell for Elijah and Billy, but then happened to glance in the corner at what appeared to be a pile of towels and robes. A pile with two tousled heads tucked close together. Holding to the wall, he slipped and slid his way over to it, peering into the mass of terry cloth and tangled limbs. A smile crossed his face and he nodded in admiration once again. Making his way back to the library, he found Sean passed out, curled in a rather fetal position on the sofa while John was talking on the phone to Christine. A questioning eyebrow had John covering the phone to explain that Sean had made Christine stay on the phone until he fell asleep. Ian took the phone from John. "Christine? Hello, you beautiful creature. I really do think you should pay your poor husband a visit soon. Perhaps the next long weekend? He could definitely do with your company. What? Oh, I'll explain all when you get here. See you then." Hanging up, he smiled at John. "Elijah and Billy. In the spa with a large quantity of that expensive Swedish body oil that Viggo brought." John shook his head and took a sip of his drink. "Must be something in the water."
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