Title: "Forbidden Words" Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Orlando Bloom Rating: PG Summary: Harry & Orlando talk about a guy. Takes place between "Twist" and "Sway". Part Two of the Tripudio Series Disclaimer: Hell, I don't know if they've even met. Notes: Written for the Contrelamontre 'show-don't-tell longing' challenge. And, because I'm completely perverse, I used all of the taboo words. At least, I think I did. "Oh, what you do to me No one knows" --Queens of the Stone Age "Oi!" Orlando blocked Harry's progress across the living room with his leg. "What's another word for longing?" "Desire," Harry automatically replied, pointedly gazing down at Orlando's leg, propped up on the littered coffee table. Orlando didn't take the hint. "No, no, I need something better than that." Orlando's bright eyes pleaded -- and Harry, like everyone else, he was sure, was a sucker for them. "Come on, you're the smartest bloke among us. I need help." "Yes, you do." But Harry smiled and dropped on the sofa next to Orlando, thigh pressed against thigh. "Alright, what's this for, then?" "You'll think it's stupid," Orlando mumbled, dropping his head down. He suddenly seemed to find the carpet very interesting. "Possibly, but I'll still listen," Harry replied, tilting Orlando's chin up, thumb rubbing over the stubbled skin. "You asked me for my help; talk to me." "Alright." Orlando sighed and leaned against Harry's shoulder -- warm, welcome weight. "But no laughing." "No promises." "Fine." Orlando was silent for a moment. "Alright, there's this bloke, see --" "Isn't there always?" Harry interrupted, smiling. But he didn't laugh. "Sod off, this is bad enough," Orlando grumbled, nudging Harry's shoulder with his head. Harry simply reached up and started massaging the back of Orlando's neck, relieving tension. "Anyway, point is, I dig on him, yeah --" "Who?" "The bloke. Who else?" Orlando sounded exasperated, but tilted his head forward, giving Harry complete access. "Anyway, as I was saying...I dig on him, but I don't just, like, wanna come up and tell him, y'know?" "Why not?" Harry asked, strong fingers working on a particularly knotted bit of muscle. "Fuck...feels good," Orlando groaned, dropping his head completely on Harry's shoulder. "Um...anyway...yeah, cause, y'know, he's a pretty smart bloke --" another groan "-- and I don't want to sound like a prat." "Is he smarter than me?" Harry teased, pressing a slight kiss to Orlando's forehead. "Sometimes." Orlando's smile was open, dazzling. He shifted again, chest pressed against Harry's, breath fanning over his arm, when he reached over and grabbed his beer. He immediately settled back on Harry's shoulder, still smiling, hands cradling the pint. "Point is, I don't want to be ordinary. He needs more." "So, the standard 'Hey, mate, I fancy you, let's shag' line won't work?" Orlando grimaced, wrinkled his nose. "No. Definitely not." "Alright, how about 'I want to fuck you until your ears bleed'?" "Harry!" Orlando's laugh was half-scandalized, half-delighted and aroused. He shoved Harry deeper into the sofa, tried to pin him with a glare and failed. "Such language. I'm shocked." "Can't help it. My mum never taught me manners." Harry's sigh was long-suffering, and he rubbed the top of Orlando's mostly-shaved head. "So, what do you think this paragon needs? Flowers, poetry, midnight strolls on the beach?" "You're an odd one," Orlando replied, shaking his head. But his kiss on Harry's cheek was gentle. "Lucky I'm fond of you." His hands toyed with the frayed ends of Harry's collar. "I don't want cliché, though. That's the point." "Right, but Shakespeare himself said that there was nothing original under the sun, and that was 500 years ago," Harry pointed out with a wink. "Think you're better than him?" "He also said it was all in the execution, not the plot." Orlando grinned at Harry's raised eyebrow. "What? I've got an education." "And you occasionally use it. I'm impressed." "Look, you gonna help me out here or not?" Orlando asked, fingers warm on Harry's collarbone when he slipped a button free. "I don't want to make a fool of myself." "Yes, but that's the point. 'Love makes fools of us all', remember?" Orlando was silent for another moment, hands still warm on Harry's skin; Harry started rubbing Orlando's neck again. "So, I should make a fool of myself?" Orlando asked, looking up, dark eyes rich with some indefinable emotion. "That's the idea, yeah," Harry replied, unaware that his voice had dropped, become intimate. "Alright." Quick as lightning, Orlando pressed his lips to Harry's surprised ones -- another quick sweep of tongue, another brief sharp taste -- and was up and off the sofa. "Thanks, mate! I'll let you know how it turns out." Harry smiled when Orlando smiled, and remained on the sofa long after Orlando'd left...wondering why the space seemed so big now. Onto Morning: Scent Main Tripudio page If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks!