Title: "Texture Of Memory" Pairing: Josh Hartnett/Orlando Bloom Rating: G Summary: The fall is easy. Disclaimer: Never happened. Notes: For Koncupiscence, for this scene challenge. You can still remember, without closing your eyes, what his smile had looked like the first time you'd met. How twin sexy dimples had peeked out when he'd shaken your hand, said he was happy to meet you, he'd heard good things. You remember the way he'd ducked his head and leaned in, like what you had to say was the most important thing in the world, like you were the only person in the universe. You remember what he'd been wearing -- baggy tan shorts and a lime green t-shirt that had ridden up his stomach, showing a warm patch of tanned skin. You'd been so fascinated by it, by the dip and hollow and stretch of muscle and bone, wondered what it would feel like, taste like, whether it would reveal its secrets to you. You remember his laugh, low and warm, how it had skittered along your spine, how the sound had made you oddly breathless, sweat clammy against your skin. You remember his voice, how he'd sounded out the vowels of your name, made it sound erotic and obscene, and you'd wondered how he'd sound screaming it or moaning it as you slid deep inside him. You remember wondering if he was even into guys, if you'd even have a chance. Got your answer in the slow flicker of long eyelashes, in fingers that lingered too long on yours when he'd brushed by you to get another drink. You remember him offering to get you whatever you'd wanted, remember that your eyes had locked, held, that you hadn't been able to move, to think. You think maybe that was the moment you first fell. If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks!